#(its actually him eating pizza in a fucked up way and getting sauce all over himself
Photo
some dante doodles that i havent put up here yet
#ive been very busy and very tired from trying to finish school work that im late to submitting...#and i think its showing in these doodles a lot lmao.....#anyway <33 im fucking exhausted i cant wait when im free again so i can get some actual rest#devil may cry#dante(dmc)#forgor that i did that last sketch a few days ago too and added it in after i wrote the pev tags.#now it looks out of place. but its fine <333#im going to bed enjoy ur food#cw // blood#(its actually him eating pizza in a fucked up way and getting sauce all over himself#but it looks like blood so i'll just tag that#dont ask where that came from ive been having conversations abt stuff on twitter and itd take too long to explain)#(hes just a little insane i think we'll leave it at that)#allyart
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Da boys when they have a bad day:
Blue boy Leo here would just remain calm but never shows much on how moody he can get.
Normally he would water his banzai plants, meditate, make calming tea, or read a book to calm his bad days.
When he's asked if he's okay, he would just sigh and say: "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." It can worry his friends and family at some points but they would understand when he needs some space to calm his nerves and not disturb him.
When he's finally at ease from his bad day, he would just lay back on the couch and no longer would worry about it and move on from it.
Bad day or not, he is always the calm leader who knows how to strategies his own bad days.
Big red Raph is always the moodiest. He would grunt, growl, and basically say nothing when having his own bad days.
When bumping into him, he would just have his arms crossed and still say nothing.
He would sometimes hear punk rock music, or punch a pillow, or punch his punching bag at the gym to help ease his most worst times. It depends how bad it is.
Despite his anger problems, Donnie would give Raph a stress relief ball, but they're the shape of a woman's tits. To be honest, it actually helped more than what he usually does. He would thank Donnie and be like: "Thanks bro. I've always wanted to squeeze a human woman's titties!....but not in the shape of a ball!" At least he can finally be at ease with it.....in the meantime until he can feel the real thing. 🤣😅
Oh boy. The smarty purple Donnie.....where do I begin with him? Well first off, when he has a bad day, the first thing that is noticeable would be his eye twitching. Weird right?...it is.
He would lock himself in his lab and hear the song "careless whisper" at full blast to try to calm himself down.
When he snaps on the other hand, is when his brothers want to go to a drive through to get some food other than pizza. Starbucks, Mcdonalds, Taco bell, KFC, Dunkin Donuts, burger king, you name it! When finally at the drive through, They would not stop talking having a hard time choosing what they want to get no matter where they go to. Donnie's blood would boil, his mouth and eye would twitch, and that is when he would make Leo sit in the back of the van, and yell out the orders for them like: "Burger!, Kid's meal!, Salad!, Large fries!, vanilla and chocolate Milkshakes!, extra BBQ sauce!, ice tea!, NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP!" That of course would have his brothers stare in complete shock and stay silent throughout the entire way home, even after they got their meals.
Poor Donnie never would catch a break during those bad days, but at least he would get over it after a nap and working on his stuff in peace with no interruptions at all. Just how he wanted it to be at least.
Mikey...oh...the orange sweet baby. How can this adorable green bean have a bad day? Well its mostly when he gets rejected by human girls he becomes friends with, and being made fun of.
During his bad days, he would be in his room just playing the drums aggressively not caring at all.
He is always quiet and never speak to anyone for a few days.
As for watching TV, uh....he just watches static sitting on the couch like a rag doll. His brothers and April and Casey would approach him asking what he is watching. His only response would be: "My favorite show..." kinda strange, but it's normal for him.
He would eat non stop and not even caring if he gains weight from it either.
Later on he would calm down and move on from the bad days and would go back to his happy self. But to do that would be to do fun stuff with him. At least he'll have someone in his life to cheer him up.
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Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 7
Afterglow chapters
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lunch with Bucky was spent in a little Italian place right across the bar. It belonged to a seventy-year old Italian immigrant named Marco who invested in it with nothing but his savings when he first came to New York. Fifteen years later, his little dining place stood still through its ups and downs. In fact, business was getting stronger for Marco ever since the bar opened. His target customers expanded from fellow immigrants to little boys who played soccer in the little league and finally to drunk bastards who wanted pizza in the middle of the night. He also started putting up a 24/7 sign and hired more people to work for him. Marco gave me a sympathetic smile as soon as he passed by you with a bottle of hot sauce he knew you liked.
"Where's the hunk?" His Italian accent never faltered. "Ditched ya?"
Lunch with Bucky was also cut short when he received a phone call from Leonard about an emergency in the White Wolf. "It's Leonard." He said. "Gotta get back to the hotel." Then you slipped in a tiny question, seeing a different phone on his hand: "Is that your phone? I thought you left it in your penthouse, that's why you crashed into our apartment."
"I borrowed Peter's old phone when we did our little fiancè act back there. Then I got my phone back after I ate all that food."
"And here you are again eating."
"Not anymore, I'm not." He chuckled, getting up from the chair and throwing his napkin gently on the table. "I gotta go, doll. Duty awaits. I'll see you around."
You were left there with two plates of pasta, one large pizza, and a hundred dollar bill that covered the whole meal. "Plus tip." Bucky then fled and hailed a cab. He gave you one last look and a small salute before getting inside then off he went.
"He had some business work to do." You replied. "Can I take these to-go please? Oh, and here." You handed Marco the hundred dollar bill and said something you have never said (not once!) in your entire life. "Keep the change."
Marco grinned, took the money and placed it inside his apron pockets. "Any chance you got four more of this?"
"Hey, that's with the tip already!" You playfully rolled your eyes and leaned back on the chair. "And you should ask the hunk that. Not me."
He started taking some plates off the table, his back a bit hunched as he did. "Who was that anyway? Finally replaced that old boyfriend of yours?"
"Old boyfriend? Marco, I'm single. Oh no, you're not at that stage now, are you?" It was meant as a joke but you did genuinely care for the old guy.
Marco stopped from picking up the plates and stood taller. "What ya talking 'bout?"
"You know," you whispered, "the forgetful stage."
"Oh fuck off." You earned a glare from him then continued to pick up the plates from the table before wiping it clean. A mother covered her three-year-old daughter's ears, with pasta noodles falling out of her mouth. She said something to Marco but was overpowered by his voice. A man in his 40's kept looking at you and Marco, probably wondering what the fuss was all about. "I'm still young!" He added. "And you know who I'm talking about. The guy you live with."
You scoffed and gave him an unbelievable look as you watched him clean, avoiding the stares people were starting to give. "That's not my boyfriend, Marco." You whispered.
"What? He's not?"
"He's my roommate." You took a sip of your bottled water. "We're roommates, nothing more."
"Well, good. I like the hunk better than that skinny roommate of yours." He bellowed laughing, holding his big, round belly. His voice echoed against the walls.
"Wait, so you thought Peter was my boyfriend this whole time?" You genuinely asked.
"Well, yeah! You were always together eating and whatnot. What was I supposed to think?"
You were supposed to argue with Marco that it was okay to be friends with someone of the opposite gender: to platonically hangout twenty-four seven, have pizza nights, movie nights, and all the things couples do but in a very platonic way. But Marco was an old man who stubbornly clung to his ancient beliefs. You didn't want to light a fire you and him. Besides, you were still on your way to earning his trust and getting a friend discount.
"Unbelievable." You mumbled, hoping he wouldn't hear it. Despite his old age, Marco still had the ears of a twenty-year old.
"You and me, both. All the time I was thinking to myself, you could do better!"
Oh, God. I know where this is going. You thought. "I'm not letting you set me up with your son, Marco."
"Why not?"
"Because he's old." You groaned, wishing he would just clear the table and just get it on with your to-go Italian food.
"So was that hunk you were with!"
Tired of all the back and forths, you sighed. "Marco, can't you just give me the food? I still have work to do."
"Yeah, yeah, aight. Don't nag me." Marco grunted. "You sounding like my ex-wife back there." His voice faded once he went back towards the counter, and started placing the food in the little to-go boxes.
Your phone on the table lit up. A text message from Peter asking you if you were still with Bucky. You replied back instantly that he went back to the White Wolf. You received no more messages from him after that.
A few seconds later, a figure approached and stopped right in front of you. You looked up and saw one of your friends who also did photography back in college.
"Wanda?"
Wanda flashed you that sweet smile of hers that reminded you of chocolates, rainbows, and unicorns.
"Aria! Wow, it's so nice to see you!" She crouched down to envelope you in a warm hug, then sat across from you, where Bucky was sitting a few minutes ago. She placed her small, shiny purse right on the table, her painted nails never letting it go. "I was just walking down the street and then saw you from the window. How are you? It's been quite long, huh?"
"Yeah, I'm doing good." Wanda could be such a Chatty Cathy. She was the kind of person that never let silence take over a room. If you memory served you right, you haven't seen each other since you graduated from college. She was a year younger than you and even though you stayed in New York the whole time, you never bothered to visit her at NYU Tisch during her last year. "How about you? How have you been doing?"
"I'm doing real good too! I actually set up my own studio a year ago in Manhattan after being a wedding photographer. I now photograph models, sometimes I do photowalks. I also hold photo exhibits from time to time." Unlike you, Wanda chose to follow her passion and majored in Photography and Imaging. "It's been really fun!"
Albeit feeling happy for her, a pang of jealousy struck you. You tried your best to ignore it and said: "That's great, Wanda. I'm so proud of you. You've come a long way since then."
She grinned. "I did, yeah. How about you? How's the business thing?"
You pursed your lips. "I'm actually juggling two jobs right now. I bartend at that bar over there," you pointed across the street, "and I also started a photography business." You continued. "I just do product photos for small businesses."
It was nothing big like Wanda's. Actually, it wasn't anything compared to her Manhattan studio and photowalks and photo exhibits. Nothing at all.
Her jaw dropped. Eyes wide. "Bartending? Wow! That doesn't sound like you at all!"
You chuckled then shook your head. "Who would've thought, huh? But it's pretty convenient and it pays half of my rent."
"You're still living with the Parker guy?"
"Actually, yes I still am." You replied. "But it's just the two of us now."
"Nothing more comforting than a familiar face around, huh?" She answered. "Oh hey, it's great you're still doing photography. I thought it was just a hobby of yours."
"I fell in love with it more during college, you know that."
Wanda just nodded her head in response then looked at her wrist watch. "Right. Well, this has been fun but I have a meeting to go to at some company who wants to talk about collaborations and stuff. You know the drill." She stood up from the chair, its legs scraping the wooden floors. "It was really nice to see you, Aria. I hope we can see each other again soon."
You mirrored her and stood up, reaching for a hug. "It's nice to see you too, Wanda." You let her go, then rambled. "I'm just in the bar if you ever wanna grab a drink or maybe coffee or lunch or anything, really."
"I will." She replied.
Before walking out, Wanda placed her hand on your shoulder, matched with a tight-lipped smile; like the gesture of someone towards a family member at one's funeral. Funnily enough, it was kind of appropriate. Your career in photography might as well be dead. You haven't received any work inquiry in over a month now, and some businesses have been rejecting your photography services. It was the classic "it's not you, it's me" scenario. They just found someone better.
With Wanda out of sight, you drained your thoughts and continued to stare at the moving cars on the streets. Getting you out of your trance was Marco tapping you on the shoulder.
"You alright there, kid?" He asked while handing you a plastic bag full.
"Yeah, sorry." You answered. "Just got distracted." You relieved him of your to-go food, grabbing it from his calloused hands.
"I know that kid you were talking to."
"Wanda?"
"Yeah, yeah. She photographed my son's wedding."
"The one you kept setting me up with?"
"Not that old bastard." He answered, frowning. "The younger, hotter one. With all the cheekbones and the eyes. Got them from me." Marco looked like a taller Danny DeVito. You doubted this "younger, hotter one" of his looked anything like Marco. "She also photographed my daughter's wedding."
"Jesus. How many children do you have?"
"Five." He chuckled. "I got some great swimmers."
You made a guttural sound and rolled your eyes. "Oh, God. Did not need to know that. Anyway, I gotta go. See you around, Marco." With that, you started to walk out and headed straight to the apartment.
There was nothing much to do once you got in the apartment besides putting the leftovers inside the fridge. The bar usually opened at four in the afternoon for happy hour so you took a short nap and was able to clear you head of all the things that happened overnight.
You woke up at about three in the afternoon and headed down the bar. By the time you got there, Nick was already inside, arranging the tables and chairs that were turned upside down.
"Hey, you got in early today." You greeted him as you approached the bar counter.
Nick looked up, hands still wrapped around a table. "Yeah well, I can't let you be employee of the month every single time."
"Living right above the bar does have some of its perks." You chuckled, grabbing an apron. "Need help with those?"
He answered no but his actions said otherwise. You jogged towards him and lifted the other side of the table, placing it on the floor without making much of a sound. You walked towards the other tables then started lifting one, praying to God you won't let it slip away from your arms but of course, you still had no luck on your side. Once Nick asked you that one question ("Do you want to go on a date with me?") you didn't want to hear, you dropped the table on your right foot. Bam! You stifled the sound of pain that itched your throat. Nick shuffled towards me and asked me if you were okay. You gently shrugged him off, telling him that it was nothing and that you you recently had a concussion less than twenty-four hours ago, this was absolutely nothing.
"You sure?" He asked. His hand gripped my waist, trying to maintain my balance.
"Yes, Nick." You straightened up and tried to stretch your right foot, checking if it was sprained or not. Thankfully, it was still good for running.
He let go of you then scratched the back of his head. His eyes focused on the wooden floors. "That was not a good time to ask that."
"I don't think there was ever a good time to ask that."
"Is that a no?"
Your mind recalled the conversation you and Peter had at the elevator: "Never dip the pen in company ink, right?"
Yes, it was easier to let him down easy with no one else around. You could also tell him you'll think about it but either way, you'd still be spending the remaining minutes in the bar with the fleeting awkwardness hanging in the air. But the silence was becoming heavier each second you weren't saying anything so you just shut your mind for a second and said: "Is it okay if I think about it first?"
"Yes. Sure. Of course!" He replied, finally meeting your eyes. "Just let me know. You know where to find me. Just here in the bar. 'Cause I work here."
"I know, Nick." You snickered. "I work here too."
"Right, right." He shook his head. "I'm just gonna..." He trailed off, pointing to the tables with his thumb.
"Yeah, I'll just..." You didn't know where else to go so you just made up an excuse. "I'll just be in the kitchen."
"What are you gonna do there?"
"I think there are still some shipments there? From earlier?" Lie. "I'll take care of them. Don't worry."
"O-okay."
And with that, you left Nick arranging tables and chairs while you headed towards the kitchen, sat on the floor and scrolled through different social media platforms before one of the cooks entered the kitchen. You ignored the befuddled look she gave you. It was the sign to stand up and walk out of the kitchen. So you did.
Once Peter walked in the doors, you grabbed a bottle of beer and removed the bottle cap. You greeted him with a smile and placed his drink on the counter. "Hey, Parker. Guess what?"
"Hey, y/n." He smiled, sitting on the stool and placing his briefcase on the counter. He immediately grabbed the beer bottle and took his first sip. "Nick finally asked you out?"
"You don't know the rules to the 'Guess What' game, do you?"
"Oh, I know the rules." He replied. "I'm just a born rule breaker. So," he stared at his beer bottle scratching the sticker with his thumbs, "did you say yes?"
"I told him I'll think about it."
"And you've thought about it?"
"Yes."
"...and?"
"I'm gonna tell him no." You walked away from Peter, pouring beer from the beer tap into a beer mug for one of the regulars who just walked in. "It's kind of hard to work with someone you're dating or you've dated. I mean, you learned that the hard way, right?"
Peter groaned, reminiscing the time he dated his co-worker, a certain Denise, for six months, stringing her along for a couple more before dumping her. He couldn't even begin to describe how much hatred Denise had for Peter. One night, you found Peter on the rooftop, writing his resignation letter. Of course, you had to throw it after sneaking up on him behind his back. Apparently, Peter couldn't take any more of Denise's death stares during meetings, lunch breaks, and any time she was around Peter. Luckily, Denise got fired the next day for some legal dispute. Peter drank his whole night away that very day and you ended up taking care of him. The next day, you told him everything he'd done that night except one thing: trying to kiss you.
"Hey," Peter hissed, "here he comes. Good luck." He swiftly left his briefcase and beer bottle on the counter, hurrying his way towards the toilet.
You gave Nick a small smile once he opened the counter pass-through. "Nick. Hi."
"Y/n. Hi!"
"So, about the thing earlier -- "
"Can I get a beer?" Interrupted a man on your left side but you couldn't care less. You put up your hand in front of his face. "In a mug!"
Before you could even say "I'm sorry, Nick, but I can't date a co-worker. It's just not right. But you're great. Not just with me" the man shooed your hand away. "Hey! The hell is this?"
You groaned. "You'll get your beer in just one moment, okay?"
The man huffed and left the counter then sat on a nearby table, flipping me off. You rolled your eyes at him and brought your attention back to Nick who was still waiting for your answer. While halfway through your short speech you have been preparing in your head, he interrupted with a: "Yeah, yeah, I know where this is going. It's fine. It's alright. I understand. I'll let you get back to work."
He started turning around but you immediately stopped him. "So this is okay, right? No weird tension between us, or something like that?"
He nodded his head and sent you a warm smile. "Yeah, everything's good. At least I tried, y'know. I'll, uh, see ya around 'cause y'know -- "
"You work here, yeah."
"Yeah. Well... " And with that, he treaded away towards the pass-through and approached some newcomers.
The man from earlier was still staring at you so you went ahead and opened the beer tap. Before the liquid even reached the top of the mug, a hand laid on top of the tap handle and turned the tap off.
"Now," Bucky's voice rang inside your ears, "how about you make me a mean drink, doll?"
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes story#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky au#au#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes fan fic
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Total drama Surprise
14 Brunch of Disgustingness
Chris: Last time on Total Drama Island… A note from a secret admirer got Gwen and Bridgette up in each other’s business. DJ accidentally knocked his boy Trent off the airplane, sending him deep into the Earth’s crust. Leshawna showed everybody how to hang on for dear life on the moose ride. Harold showed himself to be an ace flag-catcher, until he caught sight of Heather’s… unmentionables, causing him to crash his way right off the island, but not without a little canoodling time with the fair Leshawna. And now, let’s see what’s in store for our campers on this week’s episode of Total. Drama. Island!
Iris found it odd that Chef did want her help today for breakfast. Walking and sat on the dock looking at the moon. It was calm a peaceful just the gentle sound of water. "You couldn't sleep either?" Duncan said making the teen jump. He chuckled sitting behind me. His arms wrapped me into a warm embrace. His chin ontop of her head. No words needed to be spoken they just watch the sun rise.
It was something she didn't want to end but nothing lasts forever. The campers made their way to the mess hall. Before Iris could enter Duncan grabbed her arm. "Duncan what is it?" She asked looking up at him. But the carage he gathered soon turned to cold feet making him let go. "Nothing let's see what your dad has up his sleeve today." Damb so close but no big deal. The girl thought stepping inside sitting with her team.
Iris pov
My dad Was acting weird whenever someone tried to ask about food. Chef would snicker and laugh along with him. " OK seriously enough, what is wrong with the two of you?" I asked making them look at me. Its no secret I get cranky when I don't get food.
Chris: Congratulations to the remaining ten campers for reaching the halfway mark in the competition! You’ll all be on the jury for the final episode.
Geoff: We got the power! Yeah!
Chris: The two teams will become one next week. But first, all the girls will be moved to the Gopher cabin and all the guys will stay in the Bass cabin. This week’s challenge is as old as history itself. A battle of the sexes [Lindsay blows a raspberry at the guys] After everyone is settled in, I’ll announce the challenge. And then, you’ll have an uh… bite to eat.[He and Chef snicker] Ready for a little good news? This week, no one will be kicked off. [everyone cheers] It’s all for reward and it’s a good one. Okay, time to relocate. Let’s move! [He and Chef snicker]
Heather started kissing up to Bridgette. It was sickening to watch so I got up and left.
(Confessional: Bridgette)
Bridgette: I was a bit worried about being the only new girl on the team. Then I figured it can’t be that bad. I don’t buy that hype about how well guys get along and how catty girls can be.
(Confessional Off)
I was sitting outside when Bridgette walked over. "Hi Bridgette have fun in the lions den." I said before laughing.
Leshawna: Nobody’s leaving until I find out who ate my pudding pockets!
Heather: I ate them. So what?
Leshawna: Whoa! Pump the brakes a minute! You’re “so what”ing me? That’s my food. No one touches my food!
Heather: Whatever, deal with it. It serves you right for leaving your junk everywhere, especially that. That is bugging me.
Leshawna: Yeah, it’d bug me too if I didn’t have anything in the front or in the back to shake.
Heather: Yeah? Well, you’ve got so much junk in your trunk, your jeans should come with a trash compactor!
Leshawna: Ooh! You want a piece of this?
Bridgette: Uh-oh.
Heather: Bridgette! It’s so good to see you! Come in, come in! Welcome to our cabin. We’re like a big family in here.
Gwen: Big and dysfunctional.
Heather: Anything you need, just yell.
Bridgette: Thanks for the awesome welcome, Heather.
Lindsay: Welcome to the club! It’ll be so much fun! As long as you do everything Heather says. Ow!
Heather [after she laughs] : Yeah, we love joking around here at girls cabin. I made sure your bunk was next to mine–
Lindsay: Hey! That’s my bed. Ow!
Heather: So we can talk and share and really get to know each other.
Bridgette: Okay, yeah! Hey, thanks everybody, I can’t wait to get to know all of–
Heather: Okay! Plenty of time to chat later! Let’s unpack.
Lindsay: This is great! I bet we’re getting along way better than the guys.
I honestly hope things are going well. This den of vipers is about to explode. If on cue I heard this.
Bridgette: Let’s build bridges, not walls!
Heather: Take your pick.
dramatic music plays as Bridgette picks Gwen and Leshwana's side
Heather: You just dug your own grave.
Bridgette: Let’s try to get along, okay? Otherwise, the guys are going to cream us, don’t you get it? Tough room.
[Chef and Chris snicker]
Heather: Stop doing that!
Chris: Let’s just tell them… Today’s challenge is… The Brunch of Disgustingness! You’ll be getting a nine-course meal. Each member of each team must finish each dish. You will not know if the next dish is grosser than the last, not as gross, or just as gross. Just that it’ll likely be… gross.
Chef: Tell them what they’ll get if they win, Chris!
Chris: The winning team spends two days at a local five-star resort where they’ll be pampered, eat gourmet nosh, and be given antibiotics against anything they may have caught while participating in this challenge! The losing team will go hungry tonight and spend the next two days here. On Total Drama Island. With Chef.
The first round was bull testicles and the point went to the girls. Oh those boys could handle a little meatball.
Chris: The score now stands at one for the girls and zero for the guys! And now, the next course in… The Brunch of Disgustingness! You guys like pizza?
Owen: I could eat pizza any time with anything on it!
Chris: Anything? How about live grasshopper pizza with tangy jellyfish sauce and live anchovies?
Owen: I could eat pizza any time with anything on it!
Chris: How about live grasshopper pizza with tangy jellyfish sauce and live anchovies?
Ok even I thought it was gross please do let me get sick.
Leshawna couldn't eat it giving the guys a point making us tied. The girls freaked on her but honestly not a big deal. "Guys its not a big deal. We will win the next round so stop complaining.
(Confessional: Chef)
Chef: I was excited about the next dish. I made it from scratch.
(Confessional Off)
Chris: All right, who’s ready for the third course? Spaghetti! Well, actually, Earthworms covered in snail slime sauce and hairballs.
I barfed when it was placed infront of me.
(Confessional )
Iris- WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?! THIS SHIT IS FUCKING DISGUSTING!
*static *
(End of Confessionals)
The guys got another point and now I am getting aggravated.
Chris: All right everybody. Time for course number four. No nine-course meal would be complete without soup. Today’s special is French Bunyon soup with hangnail crackers.
(Confessional: Geoff)
Geoff: I think they just use stuff from Chef’s bathroom floor.
(Confessional Off)
Bridgette gasps
DJ strains to eat
Trent gags
Lindsay: I didn’t even taste it.
Chris: The girls win again![Gwen, Heather, Leshawna, and Lindsay cheer] The score’s now tied up at two.
(Confessional: Bridgette)
Bridgette: I think the girls really made a breakthrough as a team.
(Confessional Off)
The rounds continue and the barfing too. But we made it to the final round.
"Oh god I think I'm going to be sick." I said trying to hold it down but I dont think I can.
C
hris: Wow, it’s still tied up. We’re down to the last course in the challenge. It’s delicious dolphin wieners. Hot dogs made of dolphin.
Bridgette [after she gasps] : But dolphins are our friends!
Heather: What are you waiting for? It’s already dead. If you don’t eat it, we don’t win.
Bridgette: Ooh, I can’t! I’m a surfer! I swim with dolphins!
Heather: Eat it!
Bridgette: No! I’m not doing it. You can’t pressure me.
The hell we can't grabbing a hot dog off the plate, and then proceeded to shove it down her throat.
"I'M NOT LOSING THIS BECAUSE YOU CAN'T GROW A PAIR! THE DAMB THING IS DEAD SO SUCK IT UP AND STUFF YOU FUCKING FACE!" They all looked at me Bridgette had tears in her eyes. She coughed it all up.
DJ: I’m with you sister. I’m not eating no dolphin.
(Confessional : Chef)
Chef: I slave over a hot stove cooking dolphin. No appreciation!
(Confessional Off)
Chris: Okay, enough. We’ll solve this by having an eat-off. The one who can drink the most shot glasses of fresh, delicious blended cockroach will be the winner. This unlikely satisfying blend of eight different cockroaches is vitamin rich for your balanced lifestyle. On your mark, get set, go!
Owen and Leshwana drink the cockroaches.
Leshawna groans two times
Chris: Owen wins!
DJ, Duncan, Geoff, and Trent cheer
Leshawna groans
Heather: Leshawna, you are completely useless!
Leshawna: Oh, uh-oh, something’s coming up. [puking]
DJ pukes
Trent:pukes
Chef: Grr… [retches]
Chris retches
Duncan and Geoff Puke
The “elimination” music plays.
Chris: The guys are the big winners today. And the girls go their separate ways. Two definitive cliques have been cemented. [Heather grunts and the door rattles] For now. What shocking surprises are in store for our campers next week as they head for the big merge? Tune in on Total. Drama. Island!
#romance#original characters#oc#jealousy#fanfiction#td heather#td gwen#td chef#td trent#tdi chris#total drama#total drama leshawna#total drama island
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Hockey Shawn Part III
A/N: Lol this took forever. Exams really are the worst. Pls, as always, let me know what you thought of this! Feedback is the best motivator.
Trigger Warning: Talk of Drug Addiction/Usage
Part I
Part II
If you were more confident, you would say you and Shawn are dating.
You aren’t, not really. He just sleeps over at your place every night, texts you at random times to tell you things that reminded him of you, and brings you your favorite restaurant’s takeout on nights he knows you are working too hard to remember to eat, grading papers and emailing parents.
This has been going on for too many months.
One night, while your head rested on his chest, you tapped out the rhythm of his heart on your mattress. It sounded too familiar to be comforting. You knew him better than you knew your roommates. You loved him more than you loved that college boyfriend. You---
“Are you okay?”
You tensed in his arms. Part of you wondered whether your feelings for him were so deep that they melted through you and into him, like sap trailing down a broken branch and into the grass. It seemed impossible for him to not at least be hinted towards your love for him-- it was so obvious to you. A bit too obvious.
“Hmm?” you asked, though you both knew you heard him.
He lightly pinched the skin of your upper arm, playfully scolding you but he asked the question again, this time his lips closer to your ear. “I said, ‘are you okay?’”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Shawn laughed lightly. “You fall asleep in two seconds flat on every other night, but it’s been an hour and you’re still awake.”
You sighed out your exhale. You could’ve told him then. You could’ve said actually, I'm not okay because you don’t love me like I love you and you could’ve gone from there, could’ve made him tell you what he really thinks of you, but instead you told him that “school’s been crazy.”
He didn't believe it. You could tell by the way he didn’t immediately kiss away the fold between your brows or rub his thumb up and down your shoulder. He just mussed up his hair and swallowed like he was keeping something from leaving his lips.
Okay, you thought. He doesn't wanna talk about it either, then.
Since then, although you both act the same way you always have, there’s some kind of unspoken tension between you. When he comes over it seems like he’s biding his time, waiting for you to blurt out what he knows you’re waiting to say. When he hugs you hello, his arms are stiffer. When he kisses you goodbye, his lips are colder. But he still texts you every night with random, seemingly insignificant things that happened that day. You know it’s because he finds some comfort in hearing you interact with these quips of his. You tell him oh, that’s interesting or really, he said that? like you are together. Like you’re dating. Like he loves you.
Shawn’s flying back to New York from Toronto today. Yesterday was the first day in almost three months that he didn’t text you to tell you what he was up to. You checked your phone between each class period, your heart getting lower and lower until it was just about in your stomach. You know why he was there. You knew who he was with.
And you knew you didn’t stand a chance against her.
After school yesterday, you finished up grading and tugged your winter coat closer around your shivering shoulders as you walked from the school to your car. Your mind refused to let you forget the disappointment that now was associated with Shawn’s pretty face, the betrayal that has now settled deep into your bones. How could he love Maddy? How could he be with her while you’re tidying up the bed you two have shared for months on end? How could he hold her while you’re still shivering in his absence?
You rest your head on your steering wheel as tears start to fall down your rosy cheeks. Your car is freezing cold but you barely notice, frustrated sobs ripping from your throat. There’s some kind of rabid, angry energy bouncing around in your chest, and your hands itch to grip your phone and dial his number and scream at him until that feeling goes away.
And why shouldn’t you? Why shouldn’t you scream at him? Does he not deserve it?
Once you compose yourself, you decide that, no. You won’t call him. You’ll wait for his slow slither back to your apartment. You’ll wait until he pretends like nothing happened.
Then. Then you’ll confront him.
🍁⚡️🍁⚡️
“What?”
Shawn has pizza sauce at the corner of his mouth. Your eyes narrow in on it. “Nothing,” you say, finally tearing your gaze away.
Everything he does annoys you. It’s like the knowledge of what he did last week is choking you from the inside out. His hands on her hips, his lips on hers, his clothes in her closet, his clothes on her floor...
“Seriously,” Shawn says, louder than before. “What’s up?”
You shake your head, fiddling your thumbs. The food in front of you has gone cold. Your appetite is gone. The idea of confronting him sounded a lot easier before he was in front of you, all innocent looking and warm. His hair has gotten longer so it falls in his eyes now when he looks down, and you fight the adoration in your chest as he, annoyed, pushes the stray hair from his face. His eyebrows raise, waiting for you to answer him.
When you do, he wishes you hadn’t. “You were with Maddy.” You say it not as a question, but as a one-off statement, something not up for debate.
Shawn finishes up the pizza he was chewing before sliding his empty plate further into the table, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his sweatshirt pocket. He takes a deep breath, pushes his hair back again, and answers with a simple “yes.”
“Why.”
“She asked to see me.”
You bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying angry tears. You can already feel them crawling their way up your throat. “That doesn’t mean you need to see her.”
Shawn has a tick in his jaw and you wonder if he has the audacity to be mad at you, if he thinks you’re being ridiculous. As if he hasn’t spent all his time with you, hasn’t told you things under bed sheets and under streetlights as the New York chill frosted up his car windows. You let one stray tear fall. The rest you manage to hold back, but the damage is done. You’ve broken the facade.
At the sight of your sadness, he seems to lighten just a bit. The tick in his jaw is gone and his arms uncross. But still, he says “we’re not dating” like someone would say ‘today is Tuesday’ or ‘the weather is nice’. “I love spending time with you, Y/N, but we’re not dating.”
“Then what the fuck is this?” you say, your voice rising above its normal volume. “What the fuck are you doing when you spend weeks on end here? What do you tell Maddy you’re doing?” Incredulous, you throw your hands in the air as you exclaim “and I’m crazy?! To think that I had some kind of claim on you?” You wrap your arms around yourself as you suddenly cold and exposed. You’re crying a lot now, and you use the back of your sweatshirt sleeve to wipe at your running nose. “Fuck you Shawn, honestly. You spend your time pretending that you love me for what? For something to do?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then what? What do I offer you that you can’t get from Maddy?”
Shawn just drops his head as he shakes it, rejecting everything you’re throwing at him. “It’s not like that.”
At a loss, you drop your face in your palms. Tears slide through your fingers. You say, sadly, “I can’t keep seeing you if you can’t commit anything to me.”
Shawn stays silent, twisting the ring on his left middle finger around and around.
Quietly, you say, “get out, please.” When he doesn’t move, you say, louder, “I said, get out.”
“I don’t think I should leave--”
“Well I think you should’ve left three fucking months ago,” you bite back, poison in each syllable.
“Stop being so mean: I just wanna talk this through.”
“Then talk!” You yell, throwing your hands to the sides. “Talk! All you’re doing is deflecting! I fucking wish you’d talk to me.”
Angry again, Shawn stands and you feel your confidence shrinking as he dwarfs you in his height. He takes a few cautious steps forward and you can see that he wants to yell, wants to match your volume, but he doesn’t want to scare you. So, instead, he puts his hands out in the same way you do to a wild animal-- cautious, yet imposing, as he walks closer and closer to you. You’re nose to nose now and you're in a cloud of his cologne.
His hands come up to your shoulders and you notice that you’re shaking with all the pent up anger and love and whatever the fuck else you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks. He places a careful kiss on your forehead. You let your eyes close as tears slip out from under your eyelashes.
He handles you like some kind of fine china as he guides you to sit again in the dining chair, him taking the place beside you, his hand gripping your knee lightly. He starts with, “Maddy was my first friend after I got signed.” His thumb rubs over your leggings once before wiping his sweaty palms on his own thighs. “I moved to the city and had no one besides my teammates, but even they weren’t super welcoming. Went to this party and Maddy was there, dancing on a table. She was really drunk and I heard some guys talking about how they could see up her dress so...” he shrugs. “So I helped her down and the rest is history I guess.”
“You started dating?”
Shawn nods. “Yeah. She was a model. She was just getting started, then, but after a year or so she made a good name for herself.”
“And you did too,” you add.
“Yeah, I did alright,” he says, smiling a bit. “But then... um.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts. “I got hurt. I think you said you saw the video. I couldn’t play so I ended up spending a lot of time with Maddy. Stayed at her apartment most of the time, actually. And when you move in with someone, you start to see their... mannerisms, and the way they are when they don’t think anyone is looking.” He leans back in his chair again, faking nonchalance. “I broke up with her and she reacted badly. I think I was the thing keeping her sober, since I was there all the time and she had someone to hang out with besides her friends who all used.”
Things started to click for you, then. “Oh.”
“Yeah. So when we broke up, she went back to hanging out with the wrong group of people. She’s always had addiction problems, to drugs, alcohol, cigarettes. But I had no idea that me living with her was keeping her on the right track.” He clears his throat and you can see his eyes getting red rimmed with tears. “I just want to make it clear that I care for her a lot, but we were never meant to be together. I apologize for keeping this whole situation guarded but it’s... tough. It’s tough for me to talk about.”
“I understand,” you whisper, guilt lacing your words.
“I can see how you’d be angry with me. I really can see it. But I can’t cut Maddy off. I’m afraid that the one time she reaches out and I say no... I don’t know. I just recognize that she’s fragile.”
You nod.
Shawn rubs at his watery eyes. “I care for you, too, though,” he says in quietly. “I just don’t know if I can commit right now.”
You fight the frustration in your chest. Calmly, you ask him, “what is the difference between what we’re doing now and a relationship?”
He’s silent.
You continue. “In my eyes, a relationship is exactly what we are. The label is the only difference.”
“And the publicity.”
“What?”
“The public thinks I’m with Maddy. She likes it that way.”
Your heart sinks. “Okay.”
“It’s not that I don’t care for you—”
“I get it,” you interrupt him.
The two of you sit in silence and it feels like an 80 lb. weight was placed on your shoulders. He moves forward to kiss you and you let him, though your brain is screaming at you to cut him off for good. He doesn’t feel for you the way you do for him. You’re wasting your time.
But as he jokes around with you and tries to stuff pizza in your mouth and tells you that he’ll be around tomorrow you just can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this will work out.
🍁⚡️🍁⚡️
You get home from work the next day and Shawn is waiting for you outside your apartment complex, car running and headlights on.
You recognize his car because it’s much too nice to be in your parking lot that’s riddled with pot holes and fading painted lines. The lot is almost always empty, since most city-dwellers choose to take public transportation over their own vehicles. Plus, he’s easy to spot because when he sees you with your coat pulled around your shoulders and your school bag slipping down to the crook of your elbow, he rolls down his window and shouts “Hey, miss? You’re very beautiful and I’d love to take you to dinner.”
You smile and walk over to the driver’s side, close enough now to see the familiar scar on his cheek. “Hmm,” you tease, “what’s in it for me?”
“A lovely dining experience at the finest restaurant in New York City with the most handsome bachelor on the East Coast.”
The cold wind whipping your hair around, you give him a quick peck on the lips and walk around to the passenger side door, shoving your bag in the back. His cold palms rest on your cheeks as he pulls you in for a deeper kiss this time, his tongue darting in your mouth for only a second before he pulls away. You ask, “what did you do today” in the normal way that you do, unable to stop the wide smile from crossing your face.
“Went to a few meetings,” he says casually. “Then I had a doctor’s appointment...”
The way he trails off makes your ears perk up. “Oh? And what did they say?” You watch as a wide grin takes over his features and your heart leaps for him. “Can you play again?”
Shawn nods and you just about jump out of your seat, wrapping your arms around his neck as his arms meet behind your back, your body leaning over the center console. You can see people walking by your parked car and you know you should be worried about them looking in, but you can’t care about any of that right now. You can feel Shawn’s smile against your shoulder and you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt such joy for someone else’s successes. “They said my hip has healed a lot more than they thought it ever would, so I can maybe get back to practicing in the next few months.”
“Wow, that’s so fantastic, Shawn, really.”
“Thank you, baby.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you, thank you,” he says again. “I thought I’d pick you up for a celebration dinner.”
You kiss him on the cheek and pull away for him to put the car in reverse, turning on to the bustling New York streets. “Where are we going?” you ask. Your mind is racing through all the nicest places, places he surely would fit in like the true celebrity he is. A feeling of dread washes over you as you look down at your outfit. “Oh my god, I need to change. I’m still wearing my work clothes.”
Without missing a beat, Shawn says “oh, don’t worry. I was thinking we could just pick something up.”
You swallow back your disappointment. Of course he can’t take you out in public. You’re stupid for thinking otherwise. You dig your fingernails into your pants to keep yourself from showing any signs of let-down. “Okay, yep. Sounds good.”
He looks over to you like he knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t say anything.
The two of you chat for a bit about where you want to go. He talks about his meetings of the day and how he felt like his life was getting back to normal, like old times.
He speaks and you stare at his ruby red lips as they form each word, and you’re trying your hardest to pay attention, but all you can do is wonder where exactly you fit in his new world.
Deep down, you know you’re on borrowed time, because his new world doesn’t have any room to spare.
#Shawn Mendes imagines#angst#hockey shawn#fluff#hockeyshawn#TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT#it's a bit short
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PART ONE. --- SICHENG
next || masterlist
summary || a collection of crack stories from y/n and nct working together in taeyong’s pizza shop - ncity pizza. written from povs of different characters.
genre || crack
pairings || none.
warnings || swearing. a lot. probably. idk.
word count || 1.8k
taglist || @teasysan @hannie-dul-set // send a dm or an ask to be added to the taglist! though why you’d want to be added, i have no idea why
The cashier grinned at Sicheng as he walked into the pizza shop after his psychology lecture with Professor Kim. It was nice to be welcomed with a smile after a long day, so Sicheng smiled back at him at approached the cashier.
“Hey, you must be the new part-timer, right? Well, you go into the back over there, and Y/n’ll pass you the uniform.”
Sicheng felt the smile slowly slip off his face. What? He hadn’t signed up for this. “Uh,” Sicheng let his eyes wander to the nametag on the cashier’s uniform, squinting at the small writing. “Uh,” he repeated again intelligently. Channeling two years of Japanese lessons which he had mostly forgotten, he tried reading the nametag again. Screw it, he couldn’t remember how to read Kanji - reading it the Chinese way would have to do. “What, think my pecs are impressive? Why do you keep staring at my chest?” Sicheng felt himself flush, heat rushing up to his cheeks. He glared at the cashier silently, too taken aback to say anything else.
“You’ve got it wrong, I’m not a part-timer, uh, Yōu tài-san?” The cashier’s grin grew impossibly wide. “Yuta,” he corrected gently, “Anyway, are you younger than me? Your application says you’re born in 1997- you can call me hyung, then!” Sicheng opened his mouth to protest again, but before he could say anything, Yuta was already calling out for someone. “Y/n! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, THE NEW PART-TIMER IS HERE!”
“COMING! My god, what’s gotten your knickers in a twist today, Yuta?” A girl popped her head of faded purple hair out of the back room. She was a traditional beauty, very pretty with smooth skin, a small face and delicate features. Sicheng felt his breath catch for a moment, momentarily forgetting that he should be correcting the cashier who was so adamant on him being the new part-timer even though Sicheng was not. He felt hot breath on his ear, “Ah, ah, part-timer. It won’t do to ogle now, would it? Don’t worry, we were all like that once. But she’s the devil’s spawn.” Sicheng felt heat rush to his cheeks again, though it had never really left.
The girl looked him up and down, then stretched out a small hand. “You must be the new part-timer! I’m Y/n, one of the workers here at this godforsaken pizza shop.” Sicheng reached out his hand mindlessly to shake hers, “Sicheng. But I’m not the part-timer?” At the same time, Yuta said, “Don’t let Taeyong hear you call his shop godforsaken.”
Y/n looked at Sicheng quizzically, “You’re a funny one, you. And Yuta? I’m the favourite child, you know. The only daughter will never get into trouble.”
“What did you do now, Y/n?” A voice floated into the front from the distance, presumably Taeyong. Y/n gulped, “AH! UH, NOTHING! What are you waiting for, Sicheng? Come on.” Seeing as Sicheng would continue insisting that they’d gotten the wrong person, Yuta pushed him into the back room and slammed the door. “HEY!” Sicheng turned to bang on the now-closed door, but decided against it. He could use some money and he’d been planning on looking for a part-time job anyway.
“Yeah, see? No point arguing with Yuta if he’s made up his mind,” Y/n grinned at him, “And by the way, Donghyuck just stole your wallet.” Huh? Sicheng whirled around, only to be met with a boy with rainbow hair holding up his wallet. The expression of shock on his face must’ve been extremely hilarious, because both workers around him burst into laughter. “Don’t worry, I’m not actually a thief,” Donghyuck smiled at him, “But do consider buying me a meal sometime, I’m broke and hungry.” Dazed, Sicheng nodded slowly along to his words, having zoned out a while ago. Then the realisation hit him that Y/n’s previous words hinting at her knowing about the misunderstanding.
“Wait, you know I’m not the real part-timer?”
“Ooh, an impostor? What are we doing, playing real-life among us?” Donghyuck stuck his head in front of Sicheng’s face, smiling a cheeky grin. “Fuck off,” Sicheng blurted out before he could stop himself. “Ha, I like you already. Anyway, Chenle’s stealing food from the walk-in freezer, do you want me to get you some, Y/n?” Y/n gave a squeal and threw her arms around Donghyuck, nodding her agreement. Looking at another boy who just walked past gnawing on a frozen mozzarella stick, Sicheng decided not to tell them that if the food was in the freezer, it was either frozen or raw, and they couldn’t very well eat it.
Having shooed Donghyuck away, Y/n turned back to him, “Well. Of course you aren’t the real part-timer, I saw his application form thingy, his name is Jung Jaehyun. You’re Chinese, aren’t you, Sicheng?”
“Yes! Oh, it’s great to meet another Chinese speaker, I-” Y/n cut him off in Korean, smiling apologetically, “Sorry, I don’t speak Chinese.” Someone yelled, “Don’t believe her! She just wants to eavesdrop when you speak Chinese, she’s perfectly fluent!”
Y/n’s face darkened, and she lunged after the culprit, “Yangyang, you fucking piece of shit, I was going to have some fun with him!” Grabbing a rolling pin off the nearest counter and out of the hands of the chef, she whacked the wall with it by accident, then threw it at Yangyang, running after him while laughing.
At this point, Sicheng wasn’t even sure if this pizza shop had rules of its own, seeing as theft, violence and eating frozen things belonging to the shop were - apparently - allowed. Someone hit Sicheng’s head with a greasy pizza box by way of greeting, and he turned around, realising that it was Ten, his seatmate in one of his classes. Which made the pizza box greeting not that out of the norm, really.
“Ten-hyung…”
“Sound more awake, motherfucker!” Ten yelled at him, dropping another pizza box into the arms of a passing worker, who only saved it because he kicked it up like he was playing soccer. “Yo, Sungchan! Stop playing soccer with that shit and pass this whole stack over to Mark over there, kay? He’s the driver, he’ll know what to do.”
Sungchan grinned and lobbed all ten pizza boxes one by one across the whole kitchen to Mark, standing by the door, who somehow managed to catch them all, though not without getting cheese and tomato sauce all over his “carefully styled” - his words, not Sicheng’s - hair.
“Shit, why’d you do that?” Mark whined, shaking out his hair, “Now it’s ruined!”
Sungchan rolled his eyes, “Nothing’s ruined, you shit. It looks way better this way, your hair was fugly.”
“Ah, yes! Let’s go,” Ten dusted his hands off on his apron, dragging Sicheng to a rack of clothes sitting in the corner. Sicheng eyed the dust on the uniforms dubiously. Pulling the rack out forcefully, Ten elicited a yelp from the circle of people on their phones behind it. Ten glared at them, “Slacking off during work hours?”
One of them looked up and shot a string of angry German at Ten. Ten, scandalized, gave a mock gasp of shock and put his hand to his chest, “Yangyang taught me how to swear in German! And you did not just call me a-”
“Did too.”
“Oh, you’re the new employee? What was it, Sicheng? Y/n told me about that little misunderstanding, but you look alright, hey! Welcome to Ncity Pizza. That’s Jaemin, Jeno, Donghyuck,” at this, said rainbow-haired boy waved at Sicheng, not taking his eyes off his phone, “Renjun, the one who just swore at Ten is Chenle, and I’m Jisung.” Sicheng offered up a smile, then found a nice corner with fitting clothes that weren’t three sizes too small or five sizes too large (both of which had been proposed by the boys a few minutes prior; they were apparently horrible judges of size).
By the time he’d returned, Ten had been dragged into whatever game they were playing that Sicheng couldn’t recognise. Ah… among us.
“GUYS, I SWEAR IT’S RED. RED’S THE IMPOSTOR.”
“I’M RED!”
“NEVER SAID YOU WEREN’T THE IMPOSTOR, HYUCK!”
“IT’S NOT HYUCK, HE DID ASTEROIDS IN WEAPONS.”
“DID YOU SEE THE GUNS SHOOT OUT STUFF?”
“WHAT GUNS.”
“YOU SEE, IT’S HYUCK!”
“WHAT PROOF DO YOU HAVE?”
“YOU WOULDN’T LET ME COPY YOUR HOMEWORK YESTERDAY.”
“WHY IS IT GETTING PERSONAL?”
“BECAUSE I HADN’T DONE IT EITHER YOU LITTLE SHIT?”
“Oh. WELL, I DON’T CARE! RED’S ALWAYS SUS.”
“YEAH OKAY VOTE RED VOTE RED.”
“Red was not An Impostor, 2 Impostors remain- YOU SEE? IT WASN’T ME!”
“SHUT UP, YOU’RE DEAD.”
“I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU. ALL OF YOU! THEN NONE OF US WILL BE ALIVE!”
“Ooh, scary.”
Chenle - or was it Jisung?- waved at Sicheng, “Care to play?” Sicheng shook his head hurriedly, deciding not to partake in this tomfoolery. The boy shrugged and returned to his game, calling for an emergency meeting and starting up another round of discussion.
“IT’S JENO GUYS, I HADN’T SEEN HIM THE WHOLE GAME.”
“WELL, MAYBE BECAUSE SOMEONE SET THE VISION TO BE 0.25x? AND THE SPEED IS LIKE 0.5x I WILL CRY PLEASE.”
“WHERE WERE YOU JENO?”
“OH WAIT GUYS I JUST PASSED BY ORANGE’S DEAD BODY THAT’D BE CHENLE.”
“YEAH I DIED.”
“THEN WHY ARE YOU GOING AROUND ACCUSING PEOPLE?”
“I WAS IN NAVI GUYS.”
Weird. Sicheng could’ve sworn he’d seen the dude standing around admin, at least two metres (or the in-game equivalent) from any task. Then again, Sicheng was looking over his shoulder, and Jeno was An Impostor.
“Jaemin sus y’all,” Ten fiddled around with his phone, “It’s so definitely him.”
The younger boys stared at him for a while, before Renjun asked, “Are you even playing?” “Yes! I’m playing, okay? Jisung asked me!” Ten replied indignantly. Renjun stared at Jisung accusingly, “Stop inviting all the lame people to our games! Now that I think about it, Ten’s sus too.”
Of course, neither Jaemin nor Ten were The Impostors. Chaos followed, with everyone dogpiling on- the real Impostors? Of course not! Jaemin and Donghyuck and Ten! (“Why’d you act so sus if you’re not An Impostor?”)- including the actual Impostors, which somehow nobody bothered to check at the end of the game. Sicheng would go so far as to say that Jeno and Y/n did a good job, but really all they had to do was keep their mouth shut at the side and add fuel to the brainless “discussion” (what discussion?) going on in the background.
“Y/n,” a man in a white shirt strolled toward the group of people, “Can you go to the front and help out with the register?” Y/n groaned and ran her hand through her hair, putting her phone down, “But Doyoung, Yuta’s being the cashier and Taeyong’s handling the calls and online orders!”
Doyoung arched an eyebrow at her, “You can go on damage control.”
Grumbling and groaning, Y/n made her way back to the front. “And the rest of you! Go and work! What does Taeyong pay you for?” Honestly, Sicheng didn’t know either, noting the fact that he hadn’t seen a single person work in all the time he’d been at the pizza shop.
©danishmiilk, 2020.
#neowritingsnet#kdiner#kpopscape#dreamwritersnet#neo-the-stars-net#nct-writers#nctcreations#starryktown#look id like to know what this is#if yall know#kindly tell me#thanks
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⊱┊7
with the moment past {definitely not mentally}, i make my way to the lounge.
“hey, rosé?”
i see him seated on a 3 seat sofa.
a, i hope he didn’t see the way i shaved my hair down there into a love heart... b, he def saw my boobies!!
“y~yes, mr killian?”
“you hungry or something? i can order you some pizza.”
hell, i’m famished, can’t remember the last time i ate.
“no, aha…”
“you sure?”
“actually, yeah, i am, a little... sorry if that’s an inconvenience.”
“no, not at all! don’t be silly. i’m starving.”
i restrict a smile.
“here,” he shifts to the side, patting the middle seat, “make yourself comfortable. i’ll order some now.”
i place his hoody on the armrest and sit on the other end instead; don’t have it in me to sit right next to him. we would be like idk touching and whatnot. amongst the remote and his wallet, he grabs his phone from the middle seat, dialling a number.
“pineapple on pizza?” he faces me, holding the phone to his ear.
i fucking love pineapple on pizza.
“100%,” i reply confidently.
he grins.
i have just found my soulmate.
i admire how laid back he looks: his white untucked dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal thick veins and a dark tan, tie tossed on the table. is this how every male teacher looks after work?
‘cause, yummy!
“takeaway. one large vegetarian and one large hawaiian...with extra pineapple, please,” sir glances at me adorably. “cheers, sweetheart,” he hangs up after giving his number and address for the order. “should be here in 40 mins,” he informs me, “catch,” and tosses the remote at me. “pick a movie. make it a good one. i’m gonna go freshen up quickly.”
can i come?
-ˋˏ ༻🍷༺ ˎˊ-
i struggle to find a goddamn movie!
sir’s phone vibrates and i look across at it. why does that thing be buzzing and ringing all the time? i mean... hmm… i lean all the way back, peeping down the hallway. i listen to see if the shower is still on.
🚿pshhshhshhshhshhshh
oh good, it’s still on. i sneakily pick up his orange google pixel 4 xl mobile phone. okay, let’s see, what’s his passcode? says his pin contains at least four digits. hmm...
1 2 3 4
incorrect pin entered
4 3 2 1
incorrect pin entered
6 9 6 9
incorrect pin entered
his birth year, maybe?
1 9 8 1
incorrect pin entered
it’s definitely mine, then.
2 0 0 0
try again in 30 seconds
fuck, what is it?!
now i’m adamant.
a while later, i listen for the shower again. no sound. fuck me! i also haven’t even picked a movie yet! i grasp the remote and quickly flip through the movies. in ‘newly added’ a film that goes by the name ‘barefoot’ {2014} appears. this’ll do. i haphazardly click on it, put his phone back in the middle seat and swiftly bring my knees up on the sofa.
bathroom door opens and mr killian returns, setting himself down.
and ohhhh boy, oh jesus h. christ, he is wearing grey sweatpants. grey. sweatpants. oh my goddddddd!!!!
🎵dun da daaaaa! dunda dunda da dun dadada
oo oo oooooo dun da da
i cringe, really should have skipped the first 10 mins or something.
sir looks at me with an amused expression, “just started?”
i nod, embarrassed.
then he cracks up a little, “how long did it take for you to pick a film?”
“i paused it, was waiting for you.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
“alrighty then,” he slumps down, letting me get away with the white lie. “this better be good or else you’re held accountable.”
the professional teacher’s vibe is disappearing and transforming into a perky one.
he’s wearing a loose t~shirt with long sleeves and it’s even rolled up. his hair is damp and floppy, making him so much more attractive. he runs his hands through it, flipping it back as the stray droplets of water roll down his neck. i would gladly lick them off for him if he doesn’t mind...
“why’s my phone locked for 60 minutes?”
“huh?” i snap out of my daydream.
“my phone, why’s it locked?”
*ding dong.*
“maybe...you put the wrong password in?”
“pretty sure i didn’t, and you’re the only other person in this house, no?”
*ding dong!*
“aha..ha,” i giggle nervously.
“does it look like i’m laughing?” he asks me condescendingly.
my smile disappears.
*ding dong! ding dong! ding dong! ding dong!*
“ight, i’m coming!!” sir shouts, grabbing his wallet. “..jesus christ, break my damn doorbell, will you..” he mutters under his breath angrily.
bit hot...
-ˋˏ ༻🍷༺ ˎˊ-
i only ate 2 slices of pizza so i wouldn’t look like a fat bitch in front of sir. he, however, didn’t even eat any. so much for being ‘starving’. he was just casually watching me eat. i could feel his eyes on me each time i took a bite and the odd olive or pineapple went rolling down into my lap. it was so awkward!
we’re halfway through the movie and i felt the need to say something because jay, the character, was such a jerk.
“i mean, it’s actually rather heartbreaking. daisy was locked away for most of, if not, her whole life. and now she is finally free, finally able to experience the pleasures of the real world. she put all of her trust in him and he abandoned her. that’s so not cool.”
as i’m analysing the film, i feel his eyes analysing me.
“well, you can’t blame him,” sir counterattacks. “jay had his own life, his own problems to deal with. she was just another added problem to that.”
“then he should’ve led her back to the hospital again instead of taking her on this joyride purely for his own greed.”
“remember, she chose to take part.”
“he was being selfish.”
“he was lending her a hand.”
“which is what ultimately made her fall in love with him in the first place,” i state like a full stop.
sir’s whole face just speaks wow. “so why didn’t you do my analysis homework then, huh?”
“because it’s boring,” i look him boldly in the eyes, his slicked back hair has me feelin’ oozy and woozy.
“oh, it’s boring?” he emphasises, raising his eyebrows. “is that so?”
“yup,” i purse my lips.
“what was it again?” he grabs my arm, pulling me into his lap. “‘boring’, did you say?”
i’m trying to escape and he’s trying to hold me still. gradually, our laughter dies out and we become aware, so much more aware.
“got some on your mouth,” he says in the heat of the moment, running his thumb over my bottom lip.
there was definitely no pizza sauce or whatever on my mouth, but i play my part. somehow, his thumb finds its way inside my mouth and i instinctively wrap my tongue around it. his green eyes glimmer like shiny marbles as he watches me
suck
on his
thumb.
i feel pressure underneath me, something building up in stiffness. i shift his hand away, glancing down and then back up again. his marble eyes, they just look at me. look through me.
no way in hell did i imagine this moment to actually happen. i mean, most of us girls had these insane crushes on teachers, but never did i think it’d unravel like this.
he firmly places his hand on my lower backside and pushes me closer to himself. “what, you scared now?” he whispers, dominance combined with confidence, topped off with lust.
i gulp, trying to sound brave, “and why would i be scared?”
“you should be,” he replies.
i am lost for words. this kind of intimidation is seductive. all i wanna do is kiss him! though i won’t make the same mistake of glancing at his lips twice.
he speaks in a soft tone, “has anyone ever told you how captivating your~”
“my eyes are?” i finish his cliché line off for him.
“...your lips,” he corrects, casting his gaze down at them.
i bite my bottom lip, flustered for acting like a smartass.
“you know, on some occasions, i’ve noticed that you bite your lip when you’re nervous. it’s cute,” he grins, “i like it more than i should,” and waits patiently for me to fall into his devilish trap.
believe me when i say i’m trying goddamn hard to not sink my teeth into my flesh! which is why i replace it with a mere innocent gulp.
“but on most occasions, you gulp,” he says as i’m gulping.
he removes the hair from my neck.
i get hella anxious, hella aroused so i..
“nuh~uh,” he shakes his head and pulls my bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb. “‘nough biting from you, sweetheart. those are mine to bite now.”
am i dreaming right now?
i try to reposition myself by moving a little back so that i’m not directly on him. as i do this, his erection rubs further into me and i slightly moan kinda too evidently. my eyes open super wide and i instantly shut my mouth. it surprises me that it doesn’t faze him one bit.
“your t~t~thing is p~poking me..” i gesture with my eyes to his manhood.
his orbs shine like someone has stabbed an apocalyptic emerald sunset multiple times. it’s glorifying. magical. the stuff dreams are made from. and instead, he pushes me further down onto his sculpture. he leans his head in, his mouth millimetres away from mine.
“and do you like it?” he questions seriously.
our noses touch, our lips brush...
“answer the question.”
“yes,” i squeak. “i like it.”
i try to remain as calm as possible, but it’s impossible due to the nerves causing havoc inside me, particularly the nerves between my thighs. i don’t know what to focus on. that mouth? his eyes? or down below...
“may i let something be known, luv?” sir requests politely.
i nod.
“i can see your tits...through that shirt...” he whispers sexily.
my breath hitches up.
kiss me! why won’t he kiss me? just fucking kiss me! shit, it’s impossible not to look. i give in and look at his lips. the corners curve slightly into a wayward grin. i see... he wants me to initiate it.
welp, sorry, no can do, mister.
he literally places my bottom lip between his teeth and lightly tugs at it, his breaths hitting my mouth like rose petals. this act is enormously enticing, but i know he’s teasing me.
my turn.
i purposely grind in his lap and he suppresses a hoarse groan. then he scoffs. very conceited. he’s so gonna lose. i keep my lips impossibly close to his for when he forfeits which should be right about...now.
he shakes his head smugly.
i frown, pouting.
he half~smiles adorably.
fine, i have a better idea. one he doesn’t see cumming coming.
i lift away the waistband of my borrowed sweatpants and grip his hand. his body automatically tenses up. i can feel him getting harder from just the thoughts i’m giving him. i bring his hand closer to me. he’s losing and it’s hella entertaining to watch.
unexpectedly, a phone goes off and i jump in fright. i rapidly get off him and he returns to his usual, rigid ways. he aggressively clears his throat before answering that stupid device.
whilst pacing up and down and holding his forehead, he stares at me intently like i’m that fucking maths problem again!
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Consider Yourself Lucky: Clef x Reader
The cafeteria was busy as it was around lunch time and everyone needed to eat something quick before going back to whatever work they had. You were a new transfer at the site and was still getting used to the rapid pace of the larger facility. You from a much smaller and less intense site. You were given an opportunity here and you weren’t going to say no to it. You watched as people rushed past you, moving both in and out of the room, as if ants moving on their set path. You got in line to one of the food options.
As you waited in line, you looked around to the people that stood next to you. One lady in front and a tired looking guard behind you. The lady was just flipping through a social media site on her phone with a bored look on her face. Maybe this could be your chance to make some friends or even get to know what type of people work here.
“Hi, I’m new here. What’s your name?” You asked her, leaning a bit forward towards her.
The lady didn’t even move or even acknowledge you in any way. With a frown, you dropped it as you definitely got the message. You slowly moved through the line and got your tray of cafeteria food. The meal was cardboard like pizza and a couple of day old salad. You looked around the tables to find an empty spot. The elongated lunch tables were beginning to fill up and the first day jitters began to creep back up.
Taking a deep breath, you began to navigate through the makeshift maze made up of people and tables. There was a table located to the side of the cafeteria that had less people than the others and you quickly made your way over there. Sitting on the far end of the table, you dug into the makeshift meal that sat on a dented tray in front of you. People moved around you and even many bumped into you as if you were just a box sitting in their way. You sighed and tried to tell yourself that people are just busy and don’t really think about it.
In the corner of your eye, a person wearing a bright red shirt was walking in your direction. It stuck out against the bland and basic colors of everyone else so your brain was instantly drawn to them. You turn your head to get a better look at this person because it seemed that they really wanted the attention. You were shocked by the sight you saw.
The person was a shorter man compared to the other people that were walking by him. He had a hideous Hawaiian shirt that had scattered dull white and neon yellow flowers all over. He had it halfway tucked into khaki shorts that stopped at his knees. To tie the outfit all together, the man had a worn out cowboy hat that sat lazily on his bundle of blonde hair and bright pink crocs that hugged tightly onto his feet.
As if telling a very similar story, his face followed the same energy as his fashion sense. He had a dull blue eye that clashed with the neon green. His third eye that sat directly in the middle of his forehead with blonde strands of hair that draped over it. The third eye moved in a separate way as if having a mind of its own. His face all sat on top of an elongated Cheshire grin that just stretched from ear to ear. It didn’t fall even a little sliver as he approached you.
“New to the site, huh?” He asked with his grin not falling at all.
“Y-yeah. It’s my first day.” You said surprised that he was even giving you a time of day.
Your eyes darted to his name tag that looked bent and been through a war. His name was Alto Clef with his ID picture not being a picture of his face but instead being the symbol of an alto clef. His ID was lined with a light orange border stating that he had a level 4 clearance. He must be a senior staff member as that was the one explanation for the higher up level clearance.
“I see you don’t do well with other people, don't ‘cha darling?” Clef asked, taking this opportunity to sit in the empty seat exactly next to you.
Clef was watching with interest in his eye. It was hard to tell what exactly it is as it seemed to be muddled with other emotions. He was sitting way too close as he was definitely invading your personal space.His bare knee was touching your thigh. It made you feel uncomfortable but yet relieved as he seemed to be the only person to be able to see you.
“Tell me, how did you manage to get in here?” He asked leaning closer to get a better look at you. His eyes flickering all over you as if trying to find a weak point on you.
“I….I was transferred here from another site.” You said honestly
Clef raised a fluffy eyebrow as if saying that he didn’t believe you. You could see it in his eyes. What can you do? That is really what happened.
“Which site?” He asked in a questioning tone.
You watched him for a bit as you weren’t sure if you should give him this information. Why was he even questioning you so much as you gave him no reason to do so? God, what made you seem like a target to him to float over to.
“It’s classified information” You tried as you didn’t want him to know that much. Why should you? It wasn’t his place to know anything about you.
But at the same time it felt good for someone to notice you now. Maybe you weren’t as invisible as you thought. That or he actually sees something in you. Your brain felt confused as you couldn’t make a decision on how you should feel about him. You did felt somewhat of a contraction to him.
“Why are you talking to me?” You finally asked him
With a smirk, Clef strummed an off cord on his ukulele. He watched you with a intrigued look in his eye. His third hazel eye twitched a bit as it looked you up and down. It made your skin crawl a bit but at the same time it felt nice to be noticed by anyone.
“You look lonely.”Clef said with a shrug as if that was a good enough answer.
“Is that really it?” You asked him
He was quiet. You turned to watch him since it might be easier to read him this way.
“Aren’t you sick of being ignored?” He finally asked after what felt like a year
“Yeah...it has happened all my life. Though it’s quite alright. I get by just fine as it really doesn’t affect me or my job.” You said as it felt good to get it off your chest.
“So what? You just walk around and do anything you want to do. Seems kind of boring.” He laughed as he reached over and took a huge bite out of your pizza.
“Why do you see me or even want to talk to me? I think you are the first person to make an effort.” You said not even wanting to question him.
Strings of cheese and tomato sauce leaked a bit from the sides of his mouth. His sharp teeth pointed out a bit from his chewing. He rolled his eyes and swallowed what was in his mouth.
“You sound like a broken fucking record. Just accept it and move on. Unless you want me to fix it. Cause I can.” Clef sighed out as he put away the ukulele and slid over the heavy shotgun into his hand.
A shiver was sent down your spine as you got the hint. A bullet into the skull and brain will fix everything for sure.
“Right….” You said as you prayed that you choose the right words.
Clef relaxed and laughed. Though his grip tighten on on to the intense fire weapon. One of his eyes began to stroke the shaft of the gun as he looked between you and the barrels.
“Relax doll-face. You are way to interesting to fucking end now. Besides it’s not every day you get to have a SCP that rather would believe that they are human. Too bad that you couldn't stay hidden for long” Clef smirked
“I am not a SCP.” You corrected him, shocked that he would say something like that.
Clef chuckled and wrapped an arm around you to keep you pinned close to him. He leaned closer so that his face was right in yours.
“Come on. Why don’t we go have some fun?” He cackled
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kimchi helps the heart heal– myg (m)
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: angst, smut, lil dash of fluff
bestfriend!yoongi, unrequited love, f2l
this is for @ficswithluv‘s luv library project, do check out the other fics they are absolutely amazing and I had such a fun time with the other authors :)
warnings: angst, unhealthy eating habits, no eating d*sorders but reader is super careless about her diet so if it’s potentially triggering pls be careful!!, dirty talk, vanilla smut really, sliiiightly rough, little to no foreplay (yikes sorry) unprotected sex but reader is on contraception (wrap ur dingdongs)
summary: being dumped weeks before valentine’s day is not the best feeling. sulking and chocolates are the only obvious medication. but your best friend is set on fixing you up and showing you how much more you truly deserve. innocent kimchi jiggae dates or are there deeper feelings behind your and min yoongi’s weekly meals?
Life is pain. Love is a lie.
There’s no way in hell Rose loved Jack, that bitch just let her man drown. That’s what people do, pretend to love you and then throw you away like some used gum.
Man I hate Eunwoo.
I’m hungry. Should I order? When was the last time I ate something from other than out a takeout box?
These were just some of the thoughts running through your mind. You had just been dumped by your boyfriend and to say the least, you were not taking it well.
You were excited for your first Valentine’s day with an actual valentine, you had been looking at options of restaurants to go to when your then boyfriend Eunwoo abruptly let you know that he in fact did not want to stay together.
No explanations, no excuses, not even breakup sex. You were annoyed and shocked to the point that he left your house and you couldn’t get a single word out in protest.
You may not have been as upset about losing a boyfriend than you were at the fact that you couldn’t give him a piece of your mind, even angrier because yet again another romantic holiday would pass you by and you would be utterly alone.
Sad.
Pathetic and sad.
You didn’t know why you were so affected by the incident, it wasn’t like you were in love with Eunwoo, yeah sure he was cute, sure he had the body of an angel.
But the only reason you had even started dating him was because... well that didn’t matter right then.
You had fallen into a routine. Waking up at 1 in the afternoon, ordering some or the other greasy, unhealthy food from the large collections of takeout places in your neighbourhood, watching terrible romcoms and ignoring your friends.
They had made multiple attempts at trying to reach you and get you out of your hobbit hole but you tried your damnedest to not give in and suffice to say you had succeeded.
You were caught in one of your usual blank periods of contemplating what was so wrong with you that all your relationships failed, why you couldn’t just satisfy anyone you dated and what the hell would you order for dinner tonight?! You were leaning towards fried chicken and cheese when the bell rang and you were whisked out of your reverie.
You got up from your seat and peeked through the hole in the door.
Somebody was standing outside with bags and bags of groceries, to the point that you couldn’t see their face behind the brown paper bags they were carrying.
You opened the door and without waiting for a word from you the figure rushed into your home and then into your kitchen.
You let out a squeal of shock and followed the intruder, angry and ready to put your second grade karate lessons to the test. But before you could go ahead you heard the man speak, it was a voice you knew more than your own, your best friend since middle school Min Yoongi.
“What the hell Yoongi?! You can’t just barge into my house.” You were furious. Not really, cause it was your closest friend but still you were annoyed and you had been known to be a drama queen of sorts for all your life.
“No Y/N, don’t you ‘what the hell Yoongi’ me. What is wrong with you? Where have you even been?! D’you have any idea how worried we’ve been?! How worried I’ve been??! All I knew was that Eunwoo said something and then left.”
Yoongi was going off at you and all you could do was stand there and listen to him, after all you knew you were in the wrong, Yoongi was the one person you always stayed in touch with and not speaking to him for a whole week is a never before happened situation. You sighed as he continued with no sign of stopping, “I didn’t know if you were alive, if you died, what Eunwoo did. If he had abducted you and killed you? You’re not replying to your texts or taking any calls, I even emailed you! You have any idea how desperate someone is when they fucking email as a form of communication??!” He finally stopped to gasp for breath after his long ass speech, seeing as you at least had the decency to look sheepish he chose not to continue his tirade and you were grateful for it. Yoongi had a serious parentlike reaction to mistakes and you always felt like you were 5 again being chided by your mom.
Taking his silence as an opportunity you started, “Look I know I was wrong to ignore you but I just needed some time to myself okay? Eunwoo dumped me.”
Your voice was small and Yoongi felt the sudden need to wrap you in his arms and hold you for hours, comfort you and give you the love you needed. But he knew he shouldn’t test his boundaries so instead he made a little noise in his throat as if to brush away all the explanations he knew you were about to give. He chose to instead divert the topic and make the atmosphere lighthearted , “Whatever, we don’t need to talk about it right now. Anyways I know you’ve probably been eating shitty food and neglecting your health—” You were about to protest when Yoongi had cut you off. “Do not try to deny it Y/N I know you like the back of my hand”
He really did know you like the back of his hand.
He continued, “I’ve brought groceries, some veggies and fruits and I’m gonna make you dinner for the next few days okay?” You nodded in agreement. This wasn’t new for you. There had been times when you looked for comfort in unhealthy food and habits and your best friend had come to your rescue to nurture you back to normalcy, besides, Yoongi was an amazing cook and even you were getting tired of the greasy pizzas and pints of ice cream. You knew your body needed Yoongi’s cooking to recover from your junk food spree.
Not waiting for any further conversation, Yoongi went back to the kitchen and you could hear him rustling around pulling out ingredients for dinner. You went to see him and poked your head from the side of the doorway into the kitchen, exactly like you used to when your mom would cook dinner when you were a child. He was cutting pieces of chicken into little cubes and his face had the cutest little look of determination. You couldn’t help but coo internally at how sweet he was being. He was bobbing around soaking noodles in water and mixing sauces together, he looked so domestic and it suddenly hit you just how much he cared about you. Unlike anyone else ever had.
“What are you making for dinner?”
“Kimchi jiggae and chicken stir fry. Is that alright or do you want something else?” You hummed in agreement.
Your tastebuds salivated at the thought of it, Yoongi’s chicken stir fry was something you had been eating for years and it only tasted better each time you tried it.
You felt warmth flood at the sight of your friend taking care of you, “Hey Yoongi.”
“Yeah, Y/N?”
“Thanks for caring about me.” You said with a small smile.
Yoongi smiled with a little sigh. You knew it was enough reciprocation.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence though he chimed up, “Hey Y/N why don’t you go take a shower while I get dinner ready? You stink.”
You scoffed at his statement but you knew your hair was greasy and your body had been subjected to a whole week of sad eating. It was time to get your shit together. So you obediently went to take a much needed shower, letting the warm water roll over you and release the tension from your back and shoulders. You had lost count of how long you had been under the water when you noticed your fingers beginning to prune.
You got ready and left with restless steps towards the kitchen, which was now smelling deliciously of soy sauce and chicken. The dinner table had been laid with plates and heaps and heaps of delectable dishes. Kimchi jiggae, some japchae, chicken stir fry and rice. You sat down opposite Yoongi and mumbled a thank you before digging in.
Yoongi looked at you fondly as you ate. He hated when you retreated away from him during times you truly needed a friend, he always wanted to be there for you but it was hard when your first instinct was to isolate yourself and drown in junk food. He ate silently with you, chuckling every now and then at your squishy cheeks full with noodles.
After you were both done and the dirty dishes had been cleaned the two of you sat down on your couch, Yoongi insisting on having a talk that was long overdue. He sighed, “Tell me what happened between you and Eunwoo, Y/N.” You looked at him with wide eyes. It’s not like you would hide it from him but the truth is you were embarrassed of what had gone down. “Eunwoo dumped me. There’s not much to it. We were sitting on the couch having a normal evening when he just randomly tells me he doesn’t love me. That he couldn’t be with me knowing that our relationship would go nowhere.” You said with a sad smile. Its not like you were deep in love with him either, but you were excited about being with him. It was your first real relationship as an adult and you were looking forward to being cheesy and going on Valentine’s day dates. What a waste.
Yoongi gave a sigh of understanding, moving quickly to your side and wrapping his arms around your shoulder, pulling your back to his chest. He murmured into your ear, “Oh Y/N, you should’ve told me. I would’ve come over as soon as possible, you had to go through that all alone. Oh sweetie I’m so sorry. He’s an asshole.” You chuckled dryly, “Well I’m more disappointed about the fact that I’ll once again be alone on the wretched day. Can’t believe my one chance at Valentine’s day roses and chocolates is over.” Yoongi scoffed at your bluntness, “It’s okay I’ll be there with you on Valentine’s. Who needs relationships when you can have a best friend, right?” You nodded slowly at his words, basking in his familiar warmth.
You were grateful Yoongi had barged into your home, that he had taken the first step and extended his arms towards you. You needed him, you truly did... but you were just too scared to reach out.
It had been a solid week of Yoongi coming over to your home and spending the evenings with you, cooking dinner and then watching trashy movies together. Your house had been smelling deliciously all week, Yoongi had been thoroughly pampering you, with his food and attention, suffice to say your ego along with your stomach were well fed. You and your best friend had fallen into a weird rythm together. He would always show up to your house in the evenings, cook dinner that left you fantasizing about it well after it was eaten and watch movies with you that would obviously be ignored so that you could gossip like you used to when you were kids.
You could also feel yourself slowly slip into the feelings you had before you got with your ex. You had always had a massive crush on Yoongi. He was your senior in school who had taken you under his wing, the two outcasts of Daegu High, it had always been you and him. But you knew that your friendship and bond with Yoongi outweighed your otherwise romantic feelings and you learned to ignore them whenever you were around him, so every single waking moment.
You were getting carried away with your thoughts when you heard the usual ring of the doorbell, you got up from your seat at the couch and opened the door to a red cheeked Yoongi, walking into your home to escape the cold. Not wasting time on pleasantries, that’s just how you two were, he removed his coat and went to the kitchen that now felt more like his than yours.
“I was thinking we could have some steak tonight, huh Y/N? Feels like a steaks and potatoes kinda night, doesn’t it?”
You could hear Yoongi’s voice amidst the clanging of pots and pans, you replied, “Yeah I could go for steak. I have some really great wine too,” walking into the kitchen to show him your treasure, “I got it from Eunwoo’s friend when they came over for dinner this one time.”
You gazed at the dark sheen of the bottle. Eunwoo was useless but at least his friend was still helping you days after your breakup.
Yoongi nodded, “Yeah sure, as long as you don’t get a wine headache and beg me to massage your head.” You feigned annoyance, “Min Yoongi! How dare you?! You’re the one who gets wine headaches, not me. Do not accuse me of things I’m not guilty of.” Yoongi laughed at your antics, gummy smile on display. You could feel your heart skip a beat at the way his face glowed, it was a feeling you hadn’t felt in a very long time.
And just before you could turn on the full fangirl mode, Yoongi cleared his throat and said, “Help me with the potatoes now, we’ll get done faster if you put your ass to work Y/L/N.” You gave him a dirty look and set out to find the potatoes and peel them.
You found the ingredients you needed for the mashed potatoes and started peeling the skin off while observing your friend spearing the cuts of meat and rubbing them with seasoning. You had always admired how great he was with food, he never cooked for just anyone. You had to be special, someone who Yoongi truly cared about, for him to cook for you. And that’s why you loved it so much that he was always making you something or the other to eat and munch on. It seemed like you mattered to him, like you were someone worthwhile of knowing and being friends with. Surprisingly, it was a feeling you weren’t well acquainted with.
Not wanting to think about depressing things during such a sweet moment you instead chose to focus on how Yoongi caught his tongue between his teeth while handling the meat, how he peeled the garlic and seared the steaks in the oil. His face had a look of utter concentration and you were sent back to being 13 and making papier-mâché volcanoes for your eighth grade project with Yoongi. Some things never changed.
Having deemed you useless in the kitchen Yoongi banished you to the living room after you accidentally sprinkled sugar into the potatoes instead of salt, his exact words were “Y/N you are a hazard to our dinner, please leave and let me be.”
Not like you were hurt or anything, pssh.
You watched a show on Netflix while waiting for Yoongi to finish up which was thankfully not very long. You set the dinner table with the cutlery as he served the steaks and potatoes, a delicious smell wafting from your plates. You cut a piece of the meat, seared on the outside and perfectly pink in the middle. You moaned at the taste of the garlic and beef as it spread through your tastebuds.
Yoongi asked as he watched you, “You like it?”
“Mmhmm.” You could only hum as you savoured the flavours, an enthusiastic nod confirming your feelings. A small smile made its way to his face as he felt his ego swell at the blissed out look of appreciation on yours. The two of you ate in comfortable silence punctuated with mindless remarks here and there and random questions thrown in. It would have been awkward for anyone else, anyone else but you and Yoongi.
Yoongi swallowed his morsel before saying, “You know Y/N I never really liked Eunwoo. Ever since I met him I always had a bad feeling about him.”
You set down your fork at having finished your meal and asked, “Seriously? I didn’t know that I just thought you didn’t want to get too involved in our relationship.” You gave a sigh of realisation. This was news to you. Yoongi continued, “No, yeah I didn’t like him at all. He was always so shady, too nice to people’s faces I didn’t think he was genuine at all.”
“Wow, well you know I can understand. He was sort of an asshole. He was always nice to people but he rarely ever said nice things about them when they weren’t around.” You continued, “Guess I got lucky then, huh?” “Yes definitely. You’re too good for that snake.”
“But still it would’ve been nice to have him as my valentine. He might’ve been a reptile but he had a reaaaaally long–”
“Y/N!! Shut up! I don’t wanna know!!” he squealed.
You laughed at Yoongi’s horrified expression. It was so easy to rile him up you couldn’t resist it.
“Jeez loosen up grandpa. No, but really I hate being dumped, especially when the dumper is so ruthlessly gorgeous. Ugh.” You sighed. Life was cruel to you, it was decided, you were sure.
Another moment of silence ensued. You glanced at Yoongi and caught him already looking at you. Big brown eyes boring into yours. You were reminded of all the times you had sat across from him like this. You didn’t know what came over you but you found yourself suddenly saying, “Hey Yoongs, you wanna know a secret?” Yoongi hummed in response. A nod followed.
“I used to like you before I dated Eunwoo.”
A pin could have dropped and you would’ve heard it, it was that quiet. Yoongi just continued to look at you, a peculiar expression on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher. Something bordering on frustration and hesitance. “Oh...” All you could do was glance at him and your fingers on the table.
After a moment of mulling over it, he said, “Why are you telling me this? You’re not kidding, are you Y/N? Cause this would be a really cruel joke.”
“No! Of course not! I’m not messing around, I promise. I really don’t know why I said that I’m so sor—”
But before you could get another word out of your mouth his face smoothed over. “Thanks for the lovely evening Y/N but I think I need some time alone. I’ll see you tomorrow.” he said with a sad smile. He gathered his things from the seat beside him, and then he got up and left.
To tell the truth, you were not expecting to be greeted by Yoongi’s face at your door the next day. You thought you had messed up your friendship for good. Or at least for a few weeks. So suffice to say you were thoroughly surprised to see Yoongi once again barge into your house without an invite and carrying on preparing tteokbokki and samgyeopsal for dinner.
Silence reigned for minutes as you gathered enough courage to face him in the kitchen. You walked into the tiny space of the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, waiting for him to speak his mind. You were just about to start when he cut you off and said, “I’m sorry for last night.”
“Oh- No it’s okay, Yoongi. I know it was a shoc-”
“No it’s really not okay Y/N. You just shared something with me and I obviously blew it out of proportion. I shouldn’t have walked out on you.” He looked at you he said this, sincerity gleaming off his face.
“It’s okay Yoongs, I wasn’t mad. In fact I should’ve kept it to myself.”
“No!” He said suddenly, cheeks reddening at the realisation that he was way too quick to correct you. Sheepishly, he continued, “I’m really glad you told me Y/N. Thank you.”
Although you didn’t entirely know why he was thanking you, you just went along with it. Not wanting to cause further awkwardness you left him as you usually did, bustling around looking for pots and pans while he entered his own little world right there.
Dinner had been amazing, as it always is when Yoongi was cooking. After polishing everything off your plates you and Yoongi were now watching Clueless on your laptop, huddled together to keep the chill out. Yoongi’s arm around your shoulder and yours latched across his waist.
To an outsider this would seem like an intimate position for a pair of ‘just friends’ to be in but you and Yoongi had always been like this. Affection and skinship weren’t things that were openly (or ever) shown to the both of you when you were children, so it only made sense that the two of you looked to the other as a source of comfort. You were never afraid of being your childish self in front of him. One time he had taken care of you when you were drunk off your ass and although you barely remember that night, Yoongi had made sure to tell you had puked on his new trench coat. If it were anyone else in the world you would be mortified, but it wasn’t anyone. It was your best bud Yoongi.
Not knowing how to deal with this intense nostalgia and appreciation you resorted to what you always did when you didn’t want to get too emotional.
Pillow fight!!!
You reached for the blue throw cushion to your right and smacked Yoongi square in his face. He blinked, registering what had just happened. And then in a split second he had ripped the pillow out of your clutch and thrown it behind him. His arms flew out to trap your wrists in one of his hands as he yelped, “Hey! What was that for? Usually you notify me before smacking me in the face.” You rolled your eyes at how cheesy he sounded, “I’m boorrrreed Yoongi!”
“Oh well are you still bored now?” He says as he hits your shoulder with the cushion he had apparently been hiding behind his back the entire time. You squealed at the sudden impact and grabbed a pillow of your own, face scrunched up at the soft blows that you were landing on his platinum blonde head.
While the both of you went at each other with all your might you had somehow ended up on top of Yoongi, hitting his chest with a too small cushion that you knew wouldn’t hurt him. Your legs had slotted around his waist and you were currently sat on his thighs. The warmth from his skin soaking into yours.
Limply the pillow you were holding fell out of your grasp as you and Yoongi breathed heavily, staring into each other’s eyes while trying to catch your breaths. Your eyes scanned his face, brown eyes boring into yours, lips soft but slightly chapped, tantalisingly red like cherries smeared upon them. You felt an overwhelming urge to just lean down and peck him.
Would he taste as sweet as he looked? Yoongi looked at you as you focused on his lips. Waiting with bated breaths to see if you would do what he ached for you to do. He had always been scared of being the one who approached you, the one who put his feelings out in the open for you to accept or reject. He had instead chosen to let you come to him if you felt similarly, he wanted you to be with him only if your heart said so and not because of any obligation you felt towards him. He wanted you heart, not your calculated decisions.
Right when he thought that maybe he was looking too much into it you bent your head down to his and captured his lips in yours.
You could taste Min Yoongi. Soft, slightly rough from the cold and sweet from his strawberry lip balm. You held your position for a few seconds, scared to move in fear of him not wanting it when you felt something below you. Something hard and poking into your shorts, definitely not the TV remote. Unexpected heat flooded through your stomach at the thought of what you had done to Yoongi. Surely this was your doing, you could feel Yoongi starting to kiss you back when he stopped abruptly. A soft “fucking hell” leaving his lips as his gaze flicked downwards to where your core sat upon his. His eyes flew back to yours, strangely apologetic. If only he knew that you frequently dreamt of being in this exact position.
But the last thing you want is for Yoongi to feel uncomfortable around you so like the good, responsible best friend you are you unmount from his lap and put some safe distance between your bodies.
“Yoongi I am so sorry.” you say softly.
Confusion paints his face, “What? Why are you apologizing?”
“I don’t know what came over me, I should not have done that. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncom-”
“Y/N fucking stop apologising for a second.”
You clearly looked shocked at this point you were sure of it, you were expecting the sudden change in tone. “Fine, I just...it wasn’t my intention to come at you without any warnings. Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen.”
Yoongi scoffed internally at your words, what the hell were you saying? Did you not want to kiss him? Or were you worried about what he would think of you? Because he sure as hell did not want to forget about it, it being something he had spent hours fantasizing about. Yoongi felt sudden irritation fill him, you were still rambling about how you weren’t thinking clearly and it was a mistake. All of which was just contributing further to Yoongi’s annoyance.
“Y/N I think I should leave. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said simply as he picked up his coat and gave you an unexpected kiss on the forehead. A simple brush of his lips against your skin and you knew you had fucked up. You should’ve just stayed shut and let him speak about whatever he was obviously wanting to say.
Once again you cursed yourself for your inability to read people’s emotions. The last thing you had wanted was to make Yoongi feel uncomfortable but you had failed to consider the fact that maybe he had wanted to kiss you too. As you heard his footsteps slowly die down into the hallway outside your apartment you let out a groan of frustration at your own thickheadedness and burried your face into the blue pillow in your lap. What were you gonna do with all these damned emotions?
You woke up bright and early the next day, your mood significantly better than it had been the past month. And then you were rudely met with memories of the previous night. Everything flashed past you as you recalled kissing your best friend and the ugly debacle that followed after. You were about to dwell on your stupidity and how naive you had been to think that maybe, just maybe, your friend of more than a decade would somehow return your feelings when your phone rang. You scrambled to find the gadget which had been lodged under your pillow and checked the caller id. It was your colleague Irene. She never really called, preferring to talk over text so you assumed it must be important. Busy conversing with your friend you missed the familiar jangling of the keys at your front door as you made your way into the kitchen to prepare your ritualistic morning cup of coffee.
Unbeknownst to you Yoongi had slipped into your living room, depositing the bags of grocery on the table. He could you hear you giggling in the kitchen and just faintly made out the words you were saying.
“I can’t come Irene, I have...plans.”
A pause, he assumed said Irene was speaking. His brows furrowed as he took in what you had said. Who could you possibly have plans with on Valentine’s? Unless you had struck up a date and hadn’t told him. His heart ached, totally unnecessarily but he was used to it by now.
“I would love to get piss drunk on Valentine’s Irene, trust me, but I have plans with someone and I really can’t ditch.” Another pause and then you were saying, “I mean I don’t really know if it’s a date? We haven’t discussed it yet. But enough about me, you go and have loads of fun for me, okay? I’ll talk to you later, buh-bye!”
He stood near the door, not having moved an inch since he entered.
You were absolutely not prepared to be greeted by Yoongi’s figure as you left the kitchen. You let out a yelp of shock at seeing him. “AGH!! Yoongi?! What the hell? You have got to stop entering my house without a warning, you scared me half to death.”
“Oh stop being so dramatic Y/N I told you I’d come over for breakfast today. And since I know you’re such an early bird I just let myself in instead of waking you up.”
“Oh. Right, of course.”
After a moment of contemplation you said, “Listen Yoongs, should we, y’know, talk about last night?”
You noticed his eyes widen for a split second and then a mask of composure, smooth and swift, so Yoongi.
“Let’s not. We can discuss it after breakfast, sound okay?”
You hummed in agreement, nodding at his statement.
The both of you stood in the silence. When had things become so awkward between you?
“Hey Y/N?”
You looked at him, telling him to go on.
“I couldn’t help but overhear and uh...are you planning something for Valentine’s Day?”
“Uhh, yes. Duh. You promised to spend it with me, remember?”
Yoongi felt the blood rush to his cheeks, face reddening at the implication of your words. And then those familiar twinges of pain puledl at his heart. He couldn’t bear to keep doing this. Falling back and forth into these weird spaces of loving you and hoping to be with you and then turning back into the mature best friend.
“Y/N I don’t think I can spend Valentine’s with you.”
Your face an image of confusion at his words, “What? Why? Did something happen?” As a new theory dawned on you, “Oh my god, is this about last night? I’m sorry, I really am I shouldn-“
“No! It’s not about that. I just...”
“You just what?”
“I have a date that night. I came to tell you that over breakfast.”
“Bullshit.”
Yoongi’s face easily gave away his lie, he may know you better than yourself but you knew him too. He would never keep something like a date a secret from you.
“Tell me really why you won’t spend Valentine’s with me. It’s about the kiss, isn’t it? See, I knew it, I really am sorry Yoongi. Don’t shut me out because of that I promise it won’t happen ever agai-“
“Damnit Y/N! It’s not about the fucking kiss okay! I loved it. I loved kissing you and that’s exactly where the problem lies. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending like I don’t love you. I can’t act like maybe, just fucking maybe you want me the same way I want you. So I’m sorry but I can’t spend that damned day with you, Y/N. It kills me to hurt you like this but I need to do this for myself.”
You were speechless. Words rushing through your mind but none settling on your lips. You really needed to practice how to control your mouth when you were shocked, so many troubles could have been prevented if you’d just. fucking. say something.
But of course, fate would have Yoongi walking out on you. Something that he had been doing increasingly since the past few days. And you, dumbstruck, standing in your living room. Mixed feelings of joy, confusion and sadness rendering you voiceless as you stood and watched your best friend, your childhood crush and the person you loved the most step out of the threshold with faint, glistening tears in his eyes.
It had been three days since Yoongi’s outburst/confession. You had texted him non stop, called him at least 50 times and yes, even emailed him. You were that desperate.
But Yoongi was surprisingly resilient, he had ignored all your advances and completely shut you out. You felt stupid and frustrated and stupid yet again, after a point you lost count of how many times you had kicked yourself for being a brainless jellyfish while your first love walked out on you. After confessing that he loved you too.
Your life was like the worst romcom with all the comedy and none of the romance.
You sighed, once again forgetting how many times you’d repeated that action.
Finally after a somewhat convincing pep talk (it wasn’t convincing nor a talk, you had watched Marley & Me and cried thrice and then decided to just fuck it all and go for your crush, but let’s pretend it was a pep talk) you decided to take your chances approaching Yoongi.
You threw on your most flattering sweatshirt and pyjamas and speed walked to the corner take out store that sold your favourite pork ribs and fried rice, placed your order and then thrummed your fingers agitatedly against the counter for the agonising time period of ten whole minutes.
Take out bags in hand you were feeling quite like the prince in a fairytale out on an adventure to woo his princess. Except you weren’t a prince and the only adventure at your hands was finding a damned taxi ready to take you to Gangnam on freaking Valentine’s evening. Yoongi did fit the part of the brooding young maiden sulking in her tower. Oh gosh you were rambling to yourself, the nerves had truly gotten to you.
Finally a cabbie decided to take you to Yoongi’s neighbourhood, surely alarmed at your expression that looked dangerously close to tears.
You tapped your feet inside the taxi, driving the man in the front seat to madness while he drove you to your soon-to-be beloved’s skyscraper apartment. As you reached your destination you shoved a few bills into the driver’s outstretched hand. You rode up the elevator to Yoongi’s flat and hoped with all your heart that he would be home. If you knew your best friend, and you thought you really did, he would be wearing his brown pyjamas binge watching Friends.
You quickly reached his door and sure enough, you could hear the faint shouts of Ross claiming ‘they were on a break!!’
You smiled to yourself, and rang the bell. Feeling a strange sense of deja vu, you realised that you were in the same position as Yoongi had been in the past few weeks. Bags in hand, ringing the doorbell to the other’s house in an attempt to reach out after days of no communication.
With horror setting in you thought, what if he didn’t open the door for you at all? What if he was mad beyond repair and you would be left out there in his hallway as he completely ignored you even after you’d shown up at his front door? You were once again, dangerously close to tears when the door flew open, revealing a suspiciously red-faced red-eyed Yoongi. Had he been crying? You felt your heart crush at the thought. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and hold him close and never leave his side.
But first, explanations.
“Hey Yoongs.”
“Hi Y/N.”
You were expecting him to say something, anything. Scream, shout, ask you why you were here. You were completely unprepared for the silence.
“Uh...can I come in? If you don’t mind?”
“Oh yeah, sure come in.”
He stepped aside to let you into his oddly familiar apartment. You had spent countless days and nights here. It had been way too long since you’d visited you realised as you took in the new furniture arrangement.
“I brought pork ribs.” you said with a weak smile as you raised the now cold bag of take out.
“Thanks. Just put it on the counter.”
You did as he said and sat down on the stool opposing the couch.
You started as he sat facing you on the white couch, “I think we need to talk.”
Yoongi chuckled drily, “Yeah I’d say so.”
“You said your piece, but I didn’t really get a chance to say mine. Is it okay if I speak?”
“Listen Y/N you don’t have to coddle me okay? Just say you don’t like me like that and go, don’t dig at the already salted wound I’m jus-“
“Yoongi shut up for a second, please.” you said firmly, you needed him to just shut up and listen for once.
“You’ve been doing a whole lot of walking out on me, right now I need you to just listen to me, okay?”
Yoongi pursed his lips, and after a few seconds nodded, gesturing at you to continue.
“I’ve liked you ever since we got stuck together as outcasts in high school. I’ve liked you since the first time you got into a fight for me, since you started taking care of me and cooking meals for me. I’m so, so deeply sorry I couldn’t say this to you before. I was so afraid of losing your friendship I just couldn’t bring myself to confess.” You could feel fresh tears sting at your eyes, your gaze trained at your fingers that laid in your lap. Briefly you panned your eyes to Yoongi’s face and you were sure his expression was mirroring yours. With a renewed breath of determination you continued, “But i’m not going to sit by and watch you slip through my fingers anymore. I like you, Yoongi. I like you and love you and want you. So much so that it hurts from the sheer need to have you around me. The only reason I could even think about dating Eunwoo was because I was afraid I couldn’t keep up the facade anymore. I love you and I’m all yours, if you’ll have me.”
You breathed, trying to control your uneven heart rate. The muscle pumping like crazy in your chest you were scared he could hear it.
And just like that Yoongi was getting up from his seat and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, his face buried in your hair as you clung to his figure and hid your face in the crook of his neck. He spoke with his voice muffled by your hair, “You won’t believe how relieved I am to hear you say that, my love. I love you, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you so so much.”
“I love you too, Yoongs.” you murmured into his neck. It felt good to say that, as if the invisible weight you’d been carrying for years as unrequited love had just been lifted.
The two of you stayed like that for minutes, hours, you don’t even know.
But now Yoongi had brought his face down to your neck, nuzzling it with his nose and pecking the sensitive spot at the base of your throat.
You could feel the change in the atmosphere, the air charged with electricity, heat flooding your body as the man in your arms sucked bruises onto the smooth skin of your neck and collarbones.
“Let’s go to my bedroom.” Yoongi rasped, voice husky with need.
You stumbled your way to his room, not wanting to take your hands off each other, Yoongi tearing at your clothes trying to undress you.
You broke away for a second and a whine left his lips in annoyance, you giggled at how needy he sounded. Taking off your top and pants you settled into the fluffy blankets of Yoongi’s bed as he hovered over you. Apparently Yoongi was more dominant than you had thought him to be. He continued lapping at your neck, butterfly kisses at your jaw and rough hands on your hips.
“I’m gonna mark you up, gonna let everyone know you’re mine. You’re mine, aren’t you, angel?” He kissed you again but this time it was with more force and urgency. As if he was afraid of you being a hologram, afraid that you would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
“Yes, only yours Yoongi.” you gasped as he nipped at the spot below your ear. You felt wetness gush through your sex as his rough, calloused fingers swiped at your slit. Prodding at your leaking hole and giving an experimental rub at your swollen clit. A moan ripped through your throat at the feeling. You had been deprived of sex for way too long, along with your heightened emotions at being with the one you loved you were wetter than you’d ever been.
And Yoongi knew this. “How are you so wet, angel?” he marvelled at the copious amounts of slick you were producing, his cock standing tall with pride knowing he had done this to you. “Yoongi please, I can’t wait anymore please fuck me.” you pleaded.
“Tsk-tsk Y/N. I need to prepare you first baby, I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I’m wet enough Yoongi please, I need you so so badly please.” You were sure you looked close to tears, Yoongi looking at you with equal amounts awe, adoration and lust.
“Are you sure, sweetheart? I really wanted to taste you before fucking you.”
“We can do that anytime else Yoongi please, please fuck me please!” you would’ve been embarrassed at how whiney you sounded any other time but right then you felt like you would die if another second passed and Yoongi wasn’t stuffed balls deep in your sopping cunt.
“Okay fine, angel lemme just grab the condom.”
“I’m clean, and on birth control. You can cum inside me but just fuck me please, I’m gonna die if I don’t feel you inside me!”
Yoongi groaned at your words, “Fuck, Y/N you’re gonna be the death of me. You’re talking like such a cumslut wanting me to fuck my cum inside you. You want my cum, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes Yoongi I do, please I want your cum so bad.”
“Well what my baby wants,” he says as he lines his cockhead against your cunt, “My baby gets.” He thrusts into you with unimaginable vigour, you feel stuffed and oh so full. Every ridge of his perfect cock pressing into the walls of your pussy. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your heels into his plush ass. “Yoongi please move.”
He pulls out of you all the way until only his tip rests inside your cunt and then slams back in with an animalistic growl. “You look so beautiful, my perfect little angel, my babygirl.”
You clench around his cock at the nicknames he showers upon you. He pulls out all the way to the tip and thrusts into you again with a jolt, sending you both slamming against the pillows. He does it once, twice, thrice and then you’ve lost count, forgotten your name and who you are as only one names lies on your tongue. Yoongi.
“I’m close Y/N, I want you to cum with me baby, come on angel.”
His hand reaches down between your conjoined bodies to where your clit meets his pubic bone as he thrusts mercilessly into you. Fingers rubbing furious circles against your clit, the squelching sounds of your juices making the scene even more perverse. And with a final thrust you’re cumming with a loud scream of his name as you feel spurt after spurt of hot cum rush deep inside your belly. You pant together as his cock softens inside you and his thick cum leaks out of your battered pussy.
But that can be overlooked for now because you’re in love and together and his arms feel like home when they pull you close to his chest.
You are at the brink of falling into deathlike sleep when you hear his soft voice flow to your ears, “This isn’t a dream, is it Y/N? You’ll be here in the morning, won’t you? Promise me you’ll be here.”
Your chest tightens at how unsure and meek he sounds, wanting to speak a thousand words and kiss him a hundred different ways to show him that you’re real. But in your tired state you settle for kissing the arm that’s around your chest and saying, “You can’t get rid of me even if you tried Min Yoongi. I love you. Now go to sleep and you’ll find me in the morning right here. In your arms.”
#fwl project#luv library#btswritingcafe#ficswithluv#hyunglinenetwork#minthlynet#bangtanarmynet#bangtanhq#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#min yoongi#yoongi x you#yoongi fanfic#f2l#suga smut#agustd#yoongi fic#angst with a happy ending#seokjinlovebug
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Starting Over Chapter 31
“Are you SURE I don’t look fu-” my eyes went wide and I shot Bryn a look of utter horror, but she was happily playing on my bed and ignoring her mother and me at my vanity. “Ridiculous?” I finished with a hushed murmur as Connie held in a laugh that I hoped would crack her damn rib. How dare she saddle me with a goddaughter who not only parroted my potty mouth, but would shake down my ass for cash to fund her fucking swear jar? Little mafia princess to be, I’m telling you.
Connie was still working on my first layer, the makeup I’d managed on my own, thank you very much - but she was handling the hair. And my hair was giving her enough of a battle that she was utilizing every damn trick she’d learned in cosmetology school. “Hedy Lamarr,” she muttered, eyes on my laptop where the dark haired woman’s photo was blown up to show the curls that she was trying to imitate with my own lighter strands. “She wasn’t ONLY a bombshell, she was a genius.”
I smirked, “I know.” I’d picked her from a few of the famous faces we’d set aside after Bucky and I’d spent more time together, the longer we’d talked and the more I learned about him - his hint of geekiness hidden under a huge layer of sexiness - had made Miss Lamarr the obvious choice in the end. That and her style seemed simpler. I had doubts now, as Connie was forcing my non-parted hair into a middle part and then worked my natural waves into actual curls. “Bucky,” I held back a groan as she tugged at my head, “he’s fascinated with -”
“You,” Connie murmured, her own smirk creeping onto her face. “And he’s a geek, isn’t he?” She shook her head when I glanced up. “What? Hot guys are into the weirdest stuff, Brooke, they always have been.” She shrugged. “Joey likes period dramas more than me and he gets more invested in them,” I raised an eyebrow and she snorted. “I swear he threw popcorn at the screen and hissed during ‘Pride and Prejudice’ when Elizabeth was acting like she was falling for Wickham.” I giggled. “He’s a mess, but he’s MY mess, so I put up with it.”
“Back to my issue,” I tried to shove the image of Joey Amoruso hissing and spitting at a movie screen with Victorian characters dancing and falling in love far out of my head so I could focus on the problem at hand. “Am I couldn’t to look stupid?”
Connie stood back, taking in my hair and makeup, I was wearing my robe over the matching underwear set that I’d ordered to go under the dress that I would put on after I made sure that dinner was ready and waiting for Bucky. The nylons, with their razor sharp lines were on and perfectly straight, thanks to my best friend, hooked into a garter belt that I wasn’t any more certain of than the rest of the get up that had sounded much better when I first considered the idea.
“You are going to look so many things, Brookie, but stupid is NOT one of them.”
Connie and Bryn were long gone by the time Bucky called to tell me he was on his way. He’d texted during the day, while he was waiting for his appointment with Raynor, when he went in search of boxes for the move, while he contemplated if he wanted to move everything in one go or take trips - not that there was all that much, but he worried about overwhelming any driver.
By the time I knew he was on his way, I’d ordered our dinner from Romeo’s. The same thing we’d had our first dinner together. I set the scene the best I could, with candles around the living room and I had my phone set up to start playing a playlist of the greatest and most romantic songs from when he left in 1943 and when he would have come back in 1945, had everything gone the way they should have.
I had a decision to make - should I wait downstairs, in the living room or should I wait out of sight upstairs and come down once he was inside? I wasn’t planning on screaming “surprise” or “boo”, but I did want to have the greatest impact with the least amount of damage - it took me longer than I care to admit to decide.
His knock, which I answered with a loud “come in” from upstairs, was followed by him opening the door. I listened as he had help from his driver with his boxes and bags, then once I heard him thank the man and say goodnight, I finally stepped onto the top step.
“Brooke?” He turned away from the door that he had just closed and locked and looked up, his eyes finding the toes of my heels first, then as if his gaze could scald its way up my body I felt every inch as it rose higher.
I’d contemplated, when I first thought of this asinine idea, getting a dress like what I imagined Dot had worn to Coney Island. Something simple and casual. Then, when I sat with Connie and Mertle I realized that - if I’d been with Bucky when he’d gone off to the unknowns of war and he came home to me safe and sound, I’d want his welcome to be something MORE. Which is why I chose something less casual, less simple. A little MORE than what Dot had worn to Coney when he spent all his and Steve’s money trying to win her that bear.
With that in mind, I’d found a dress that was a bit more form fitting than most - black with a lacy bodice and cap sleeves. The heels were surprisingly easy to find to match the dress, rounded toes, stacked heel, lacy looking leather. Bucky’s visual tour was taking forever, and I was feeling more and more self conscious the longer it took. My makeup, once he made it to my face, was the red lip that was so fashionable then and now, the dramatic eye and of course the soft curls framing it all courtesy of the great Hedy Lamarr. I swallowed as his eyes finally met mine.
“Welcome home, Bucky.” If I doubted how he’d receive my gift, how he’d take seeing me cosplay his past, I soon learned that it was all for naught. He took the stairs two at a time to reach me, then his arms were wrapped around me, careful of the dress as he stared down at me. “You approve?” It came out in a rush of breath, but I wanted to be sure.
“You did all this for me?” He was staring at me like he’d never seen me before and I nodded, biting my lip without care for the crimson stain. “Why?” It wasn’t a question of how dare I, but why would I think to?
“Because, Bucky Barnes, I wanted to welcome you home, finally.” And that seemed to unlock something in him, his smile grew and his lips met mine and I knew that he DEFINITELY approved.
I managed to get him down to the living room, where we lit all those candles and I started the playlist and found out that James Buchanan Barnes LOVES to dance. He held me and gave me a masterclass in just how little my dad and all the boys I ever had the misfortune to take a turn around a dance floor with over the years knew about the study. And he looked at peace. He looked even happier when our food arrived from Romeo’s, shaking his head when I tried to convince him that we could eat it in the living room.
“In that dress?” He pulled me into the dining room, where I’d placed more candles and after depositing the boxes with our food, he lit them and held out my chair. “You look too beautiful to sit on the floor, Brooke.”
“I could always just take it off,” I offered, as he shot me a look over the open box. “We don’t have plates, Buck.” I laughed, getting up to grab some, but he pulled me back down.
“Brooklyn born and raised,” he was smirking, using my own words against me. “Did you forget how to eat a slice, already?”
I shook my head, but sat back and realized that this was our life now. Playful and silly, but also sexy and hot - wow. Watching him take a slice, folding it properly, but wait for me to take my own before he took the first bite I thought that we’d made a good choice rushing headfirst into everything.
Eating Romeo’s pizza over the box by candlelight in our dining room, with the sounds of my 1940s playlist softly playing from the living room Bucky told me about his visit with Raynor.
“I told her about us,” I bit my lip and his smile grew. “About moving in with you, well about our plans -” my eyebrow arched and he licked some errant grease and sauce off his lip. “What? I had to pack first, so it was still a plan - technically.”
I shook my head and leaned forward. “Did you get a gold star?” This was the most important part, wasn’t it? My eyes were narrowed, waiting for confirmation. “Well, Sergeant Barnes?”
“Raynor is very pleased with my progress, Miss Ashley,” he told me in the most professional voice I’d ever heard him use. “She thinks that the interpersonal relationship I’m developing with you - the ease in which we seem to be able to communicate with one another and the way we both seem to fit into one another’s life makes her feel that I’m making a real effort to grow as a person.” His brow had grown furrowed as he continued his speech while my teeth were digging so deeply into my lip that I wondered when I’d taste blood. “The fact that you and I are even discussion cohabitation is leaps and bounds beyond what she imaged for my progress - especially since I’m not finished -”
I had to stop him, because I was going to crack a rib from the urge to laugh at his tone, or throw something from irritation at his ‘doctor’s’. “I think I get the gist, Buck.” His eyes seemed to flash when they zeroed in on mine. “Let’s put away the leftovers and -”
“And finish welcoming me home?” He bit his lip and from flashing eyes to darkening, my stomach clenched. “I think I like that plan, Brooke.” And I preferred the way his voice had returned to normal, deep and - Bucky.
#bucky barnes/oc#the falcon and the winter soldier#alternate universe#mention of smut#FLUFF AND SMUT#humor
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1169
Do you take lessons for anything?
No. I’ve done so in the past, but not at the moment.
Has something really heavy ever fallen on you?
Other than siblings or cousins from when we played together as kids, I don’t think so.
If you wear makeup, what colors do you usually wear?
I never wear makeup but whenever my friends have used my face as a practice stage (lol) they’ve usually just used natural or nude-ish colors, which I find look okay on me.
Does your shower have curtains or a glass door/wall?
It has a sliding door. I’m not sure what material it’s made out of, but I can tell you it’s at least not glass.
If you have more than one pet, do they ever get jealous of each other?
Cooper does tend to bark and/or whine when he sees me giving more attention to Kimi, but not always. Kimi couldn’t give less of a crap, but this is also because he is 13.
Is there a room in your house that you don’t like going in?
I used to not like being inside my bedroom, especially after the breakup. For a long time it was a place I only associated with crying and breakdowns, so when I was doing the arduous task of starting over I haaaaated staying there because it only hurled me right back to square one. But I’m happy to say that I eventually got better, had enough strength to change the narrative for my room, and now I like being here again :)
Do you remember the last question you were asked? What did you answer?
My mom just asked me to watch Cooper because he was having the zoomies.
Besides salt and butter, do you put anything on your popcorn?
Not a big fan of popcorn but if I had to pick a topping, I’d go with cheddar cheese.
Are you lonely?
I’ll feel it sometimes, but it only lasts for a moment or so.
What’s your favorite magazine to read?
Wow I haven’t read a magazine in years.
Do you like pineapple?
I hate it. In all forms. The pizza debate doesn’t even matter to me lmao, I just think pineapple downright sucks.
Have you ever seen fireflies?
They used to be common in our village when we first moved in, back when there were only like 3 houses in the neighborhood (we were one of the first to move in here). As more houses were built and the place got more occupied the fireflies gradually lessened until they disappeared altogether.
Have you ever trespassed?
I very vividly remember taking multiple trips to the school cemetery back in grade school (I went to Catholic school and ours had a cemetery below our chapel, where all our deceased nuns were housed...I really shouldn’t be talking about this at 10 PM...). I am 100% sure that was an off-limits area but we went there anyway because we were a naughty group of kids and because no one was guarding the area.
Do you tell your parents where you are going?
Yeah; if I live with them, they have the right to know. < Ooh, I’ve never even thought about it this way before but this is a very good point. I’ll second this, haha.
Do you agree with the notion that all people were created equal?
Yes.
Do you raise your hand or participate in class?
God never. I hid as much as I can and only recited if I was called on purpose.
Do you like visiting the mall? Why or why not?
I like the malls that we have. But then again, malls are the only decent public spaces we have - we don’t have public libraries, parks, playgrounds, etc. – so it’s not like I have a choice on where I can go if I want to go out.
Have you ever purposely hurt an animal?
Yeah I kill bugs when I see them. Soz, I have no feelings for them whatsoever.
Would you ever see a therapist?
I planned to finally do this last year but it just fell through haha and eventually I was able to care for myself too. Now that I’m doing a lot better for the most part, I feel like I’d have no clue what to talk about once faced with one.
Are you afraid of heights?
Only if I had to jump all the way down. But if I ever found myself staying at an extreme height simply to enjoy the view, or if I was ever in one of those towers where the top floor’s floor is made out of glass, I think I would enjoy that.
Are you afraid of the dark?
I always say I’m usually not afraid of the dark, and will only be if I was in a situation that was intended to scare me. I would definitely be afraid of the dark if I was in like an abandoned cave or a haunted house, but I would also find the darkness in my room comforting.
Are you a jealous person?
When I am it’s mostly been in a playful sense and rarely serious.
When is your birthday?
April 21st.
What are you listening to right now?
My very very old aircon doing its very very loud whirring thing. It’s become a running joke in the family because it is literally SO FUCKING LOUD hahahaha
Have you ever been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing?
As a goody-goody, I can only ever do this to my mom; but yeah, she’s caught me many times.
Are you still friends with someone from kindergarten?
Sure, but I’m not ~close friends with any of them. Just chummy enough to like their photos on social media once in a while or greet them happy birthday. My oldest friend was from Grade 1.
What is the most important thing to you?
Being happy with myself and making sure I don’t miss out on life and opportunities.
Do you like whipped cream?
I can take it or leave it.
Are you close to your mother?
We get along but not close.
Are you close to your father?
I’m closer to him in the sense that I would be more comfortable around him, but we’re also not physically or emotionally close.
Do you walk around bare foot when you're at home? Or do you wear socks?
I am Asian hahaha what do you think?
Do you like chocolate popsicles?
Sure! One would sound lovely right now, actually.
Would you ever be your school’s mascot who wears that costume?
Both of the schools I’ve attended don’t have mascots.
Would you rather see the Great Wall of China or Big Ben?
Great Wall for sure. Sorry but I can’t see myself getting excited over a giant clock, and I’m sure there are other lovely spots in London I’d much rather visit.
Have you ever written a poem?
Always unsuccessfully. It’s never been my forte.
Would you ever be a tornado chaser?
That’s a thing? Uh...no way??
What is your favorite thing to eat with bbq sauce, if you even like that stuff?
Pizza. And anything, I guess. Barbecue sauce is the bomb.
Your parents tell you that this summer, you get to pick the vacation. Where do you plan to go?
Covid notwithstanding and budget permitting, probably New York City.
What do you think is a good theme for a prom?
I could not care less.
Have you ever had to do a class in summer school?
Thankfully, never.
Do you get nervous when you go to the doctor? About what?
You know, I’ve always thought going to the doctor was no sweat until I realized just how nervous I was when I had to book a telemedicine consultation once as part of my job (PR can make you do the most random, out of context things sometimes, I swear haha). I surprised even myself with the reaction I had when I found out I had to do it, and how I felt like declining the offer...I guess I was scared about the possibility of underlying health issues suddenly being unearthed. Your whole life can always get turned upside down in the blink of an eye with just one diagnosis.
Have you ever been to the rainforest?
I’m pretty sure the climate I live in is called tropical rainforest, so I guess yeah.
Have you ever created a website?
Not from scratch. I had always made it under an umbrella website, like Blogspot.
Ever thought about writing a book?
Sure, as a kid.
Have you ever had a dream where you killed someone?
No. Whenever I have dreams of that nature it’s always me or a loved one being killed, but never me doing the killing.
Do you ever make up stories in your head and wish they come true?
Yes.
Which is worse: stuffy nose or runny nose?
Stuffy. It sucks not being able to breathe freely.
Which is worse: Sick to your stomach or sore throat?
I super hate sore throat. I already get stomachaches frequently, so even though I know how sucky it can be I feel like the discomfort would be bigger with a sore throat.
Do you think your last relationship was a disaster?
The way it ended was, but it wouldn’t be fair to myself to invalidate the genuine happiness I felt when I was in it.
Have you ever solved a Rubik’s Cube?
Never.
Who do you think is the easiest to talk to?
Angela.
Would you consider yourself to be emo?
No.
Do you have a favourite metal band or do you not like metal?
Not really, no.
What is your current desktop picture?
It’s just one of the provided desktop photos on my Mac.
Thick or thin blanket?
Thick.
Who are your favorite bands?
Paramore, Coldplay, and Against Me!
How do you mark through your word search puzzles?
Depends on my mood. Sometimes I’ll strike through and sometimes I’ll go ahead and encircle the entire word altogether.
Have you ever sewn something?
I’ve done embroidery...does that count?
What did you eat for dinner last night?
We had breakfast for dinner, actually hahaha so my dad made an omelette, hotdogs, and tapa.
Ever been grounded? If so, for what?
Continued from last night. Yes, I was caught cursing all over Twitter when I was like 11 so my parents cut off my access to all my gadgets for a year or so. Which, in retrospect, is an acceptable consequence for my actions, but we’re also talking about a time when schools were starting to view the internet as a necessity in doing homework and research. I missed out on nearly all my homework for a while, and my mom didn’t buy it when I kept telling her I needed to do my research over the internet. At the same time, she kept demanding why my grades weren’t doing so well when she was the reason they kept being pulled down...so yep, not a very fun time.
Have you seen all of the Jaws movies?
No and I don’t really have the desire to. Doesn’t seem like my kind of movie.
When was the last time you played cards? (not on the computer)
Maybe 2 or 3 years ago.
Have you ever drank Cherry Coke?
No, I don’t drink any soda.
Have you ever had a black eye?
Nope.
Have you ever eaten a bug?
Not to my recollection, but I would love to try cooked crickets and whatever bug can be prepared and eaten.
Do you like pranking people?
Never; the idea makes me cringe since I never know when it’s considered going too far. I’d rather watch people prank other people.
Did you ever take a cooking class in school?
Yeah, but we were required to take it. We also had some baking sessions, which to me was a lot more fun. I remember having to make macarons and rainbow cake which are both right up my alley, heehee.
Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day?
No, idk what that is. I just know people turn everything green on that day lol.
Do you use Skype?
I’ve never used Skype on my own. That’s where I used to talk to my dad for video calls maybe around a decade ago, whenever he was abroad; but I never had my own account. These days I alternate among Microsoft Teams, Google Meet, or Zoom.
Have you ever participated in local magazine cover girl searches?
I don’t think so, but I did join a few contests on some of those kid’s magazines we used to have...none of which I won.
Have you ever been called a skank/slut because of the way you dress?
No.
Is your ex sexually attractive to you still?
I haven’t seen her in 5 months, which helps...that said, I simply feel nothing. I’m neither sexually attracted nor not sexually attracted to her.
Describe the most romantic moment you’ve ever had.
I can think of one but I don’t see the point in still raising it, considering where I am in life right now.
Have you ever cheated on a test?
Yes, once. I hated it.
Have you ever been to couple’s counseling?
Nope.
How often does your employer ask you to work overtime?
A few times a week. Sometimes I’ll do it willingly as well just to get the task over with or to save myself some deliverables the next morning. I’m fine with OT-ing tbh; since I work from home, I feel like my time is a lot more flexible.
Did you often read for fun when you were a kid?
I read A LOOOOOT as a kid. I was a total bookworm. < Yeah, same. You could always find me bringing a book to school and reading during breaks, even though they technically didn’t allow us to bring any non-academic book. My spark for reading died when I was around 12, same time as when my depression started to kick in, and it never really came back.
When was the last time you were scared?
Someone from the media called me up yesterday VIA LANDLINE to ask a question about a press release I had sent out that day. I usually read up on the materials we have, but I honestly didn’t give a shit about that particular story and didn’t really make an effort to know more about it, so I found myself stumped when he dropped the question. I ended up stalling for a bit before I was able to stutter an answer, so that was scary, but at least he was nice. Also, I hate phone calls.
What’s your favorite song by Rihanna?
KISS IT KISS IT BETTER
Can you speak binary?
No, I never understood it.
Would you rather live somewhere that had hurricanes or tornadoes?
I already do, at least for hurricanes. I imagine I’d be terrified of tornadoes.
Have you ever had a pet that you disliked?
Nooooooo, never. I was never close to Arlee but I still did my best for her to like me, and always fed her whenever my sister would be in her dorm.
When was the last time you saw hail?
Never. Doesn’t happen all that often here, and when it does it’s always in the provinces.
What is on your mind right this second:
I want to spend my remaining time awake reading fanfic (I’m into them again, omg) but I also wanna finish surveys...so I’m doing my best to breeze through this so I can finally look for something to read hahahahaha.
Have you ever given a nickname to your pet(s)?
Cooper is Cooperino to me. Sometimes I’ll call him Cooperino Cappuccino. Kimi is Kimchi, Kimmerl, Kimberly, The Kimster, and sometimes Lolo, which is grandpa in Filipino heheh.
When was the last time you shaved your legs?
Like 3 or 4 days ago.
Do you ever try free samples at the store?
Nope.
Do you like boys with long hair?
Physical traits don’t matter much to me.
Do you like rootbeer?
I’ve never tried it but I don’t really want to either haha. It smells weird.
What is the best fast food place, in your opinion?
KFC or Taco Bell. Or Jollibee.
Do you have faith in yourself?
Starting to.
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Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 5)
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy
Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy
Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”
Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned (more to be added)
This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 My Master Post
Emile hummed a quick tune as he pulled into the grocery store parking lot near his apartment. He’d just finished his last session of the day with Kai and Remy had asked that he watch Virgil this evening after work and possibly this weekend, so Emile was picking up something to cook for dinner before heading over there. He was going to grab ingredients to make Virgil’s favorite dinner, spaghetti and meatballs (well his actual favorite dinner was pineapple pizza from the local pizza joint, but Emile wanted to serve the boy something at least somewhat healthy for once in his life.)
That in mind, he went straight to the pasta aisle. While contemplating which of the spaghetti noodles he should grab, he noticed a man with a cart also perusing the aisle. He glanced at the contents of the man’s cart. “That’s a lot of cheese there friendo,” he commented.
“I’m trying to make homemade macaroni and cheese,” the man divulged with a smile.
“That’s always fun,” Emile replied, smiling back himself.
“I’ve never done it before. Do you have any suggestions for noodles?”
“Hmm… how about shell ones?”
“Ooo, like the boxed Velveeta shell macaroni, but better!” He enthused. “Aw! They have mini ones!” He snatched the box excitedly. “They’re so cute!”
“They are,” Emile agreed as he finally selected the whole wheat store brand spaghetti and slid it into his cart.
“Thanks for the suggestion! Have a nice day,” the man said and turned to leave.
“Bye!” Emile called after him.
He then continued on his quest, grabbing pasta sauce and a lot of fresh vegetables to sneak into the canned sauce as well as to leave in his brother’s home with the hopes that either his brother or his nephew might actually eat something healthy for once if it was right there. (Doubtful, but Emile could hope.)
He then spent an inordinate amount of time, debating which popcorn to get. Emile was thinking tonight would be a good night for movies with Virgil, and Virgil’s favorite snack was popcorn. He really should get the less buttery one, but he knew that Virgil liked buttery popcorn more. Perhaps he should compromise and get plain popcorn, but that one healthier ranch flavored powder topping that he liked. Decided, he grabbed the popcorn and the topping and went to exit the snack food aisle. “Hey,” a man with a mustache drew his attention away from his task. “My friend lost his little brother in the store. Have you seen a younger teenager walking alone around here? We think he might have gone to the snack food aisle.
Emile frowned. “Nope I haven’t seen anyone. I hope you find him soon.”
“Thanks,” the man said already distracted with looking around again.
“Maybe try the front desk,” Emile suggested. “They could call over the intercom.”
“My brother’s already there,” the man replied waiving the suggestion off. “But thanks.”
“Well good luck!” Emile said as the man walked away towards the back of the store.
Gee, it took him almost 40 minutes to get groceries, he realized when he glanced at his phone in the checkout aisle. He shouldn’t let himself get that distracted.
Once he’d paid for the groceries, he took everything to his car and shoved them in the backseat. Right as he was about to stick the key in the ignition, he got a text message from his secretary.
‘Kai forgot his phone in your couch again, but your office is locked. Are you able to swing by really quick to let him in?’
He texted back ‘Sure! I’ll be there in 5.’ He wasn’t going to keep Kai away from his phone for the night and it wasn’t like the groceries he’d grabbed were extremely time sensitive. So, he drove back to the office.
Kai seemed thankful for his willingness to drive all the way back even if his ‘thank you’ was rather distracted as he was already typing something on his phone the moment after Emile handed it back to him.
He said goodbye to Kai and to his secretary and hopped back into his car intending to drive to Remy’s house. He’d just started the car when his phone started to ring.
“Yello,” he said cheerfully.
“Emile,” the serious voice greeted on the other end of the line. “This is Logan Sanders.”
Emile sobered immediately. “Hi Logan. Is something wrong? Do you have a patient for me?”
“No, actually,” Logan said. “It’s… about your brother.”
Emile froze. “What about my brother?” he asked. “Remy is on light duty.”
“He was yes,” Logan said. “However, there was a complication.”
“What type of complication?” Emile said and a bit of anger came to his tone unbidden.
“He was specifically targeted,” Logan said, and despite the calm way he spoke, Emile could detect the distress in his tone. “I’m very sorry, but he’s dead.”
“Oh, god. What about Virgil?”
“That’s the other thing,” Logan continued. “As soon as I heard of Mr. Gates death, I dispatched an agent to his home for protection, but when he arrived, his son was not there. There were signs of a break-in, but the perpetrator’s car was still there, and my agent believes Virgil fled the scene and was followed on foot. My agent is currently searching for him…”
“There’s a ‘but,’” Emile concluded.
There was a slight pause, just enough to tell Emile he wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he was pretending to be. “I haven’t heard from that specific agent in over half an hour.”
“Okay,” Emile gulped, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. There were hundreds of explanations for that, but many of them were bad. “Okay. I’ll go look myself since I know him and where he might go. I’ll,” his voice cracked a bit. “Call you if I find anything.”
“Alright, and I’ll…” but whatever Logan was going to say was lost as a hand touched Emile’s shoulder.
Emile screamed and tossed his phone as he accidently slammed his elbow into the car horn making it blare.
“Calm down! It’s just me,” said a voice.
“Frickin Frozone shitake mushrooms terrible tigger fish paste and cabbages, Remington!”
“You could curse like a normal person, Emile.”
“And you could not break into my car like a normal person,” Emile shot back turning around in his seat to face his older brother. “I’ll presume you’re not dead then.”
“Aw, were you worried about me?” he asked.
Violence is never the answer. At least that’s what he told his patients. Emile punched his shoulder the best he could from this angle. It clearly didn’t hit too hard as Remy just laughed.
“Sorry, Em,” he said reaching forward to ruffle his hair. Emile slapped him away.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Mega Bitch Ex decided she wanted me shot in the head and I decided I didn’t want that.”
“What does that mean?” Emile asked.
“It means,” Remy answered. “I faked my own death and while she thought I was dead,” he dug something out of his pocket and dangled it in front of him. It was a flash drive. “I stole this.”
“What is it?”
“Super-secret spy business.”
“Remy.”
“All that matters is she really shouldn’t have it and Logan will be very happy I got it away from her.”
“Speaking of Logan…” Emile had dropped his phone when Remy had surprised him, and the call had ended. He picked up the phone. “I should call him back.”
The phone was slapped out of his hand the second his picked it up.
“What the kriffing kriff Remy?”
“Please just say fuck. I beg of you,” Remy groaned. The phone starting ringing again from its place on the floor. Doubtlessly it was Logan since the last thing he’d heard was Emile screaming like he was being murdered.
“I need to answer that, Remy,” Emile said with a frown.
“You can’t. It’s too risky.”
“You literally just said you stole it for Logan. Why can’t I just answer the phone, say Remy’s fine actually, and he has a super-secret spy flash drive to give to you?”
“Because you don’t say shit like that over the telephone,” Remy told him while starting to wiggle his way into the front seat. “We’re going to take this thing to Logan in person and no one can know I’m alive until then.”
“I know you’re alive,” Emile pointed out.
Remy grabbed Emile’s phone when it stopped ringing and hit the power button to turn it off. He stuck it into his pocket. “Family doesn’t count,” Remy said. “…Also, I needed a ride.”
“Are you really going to keep my phone hostage this whole time and also what happened to your car?”
“It… uh… blew up,” Remy said. Emile stared at him blankly. “Yeah… so, anyway.”
“What do you mean it blew up?” Emile asked.
“I said ‘anyway.’”
“Saying ‘anyway’ doesn’t mean I just magically forget what you just said.”
Remy waved that off. “Anyway,” he said again. “We’ll have to pick up Virgil and … do something with him. I’m not leaving him home alone during this.”
“Right. I assume since you’re not dead that Virgil isn’t actually missing,” Emile concluded.
But instead of agreeing and telling Emile where Virgil was to go pick him up, there was silence. “Virgil is what?”
Want to read more? Click below!
Part 6
#sanders sides#emile picani#remy sanders#virgil sanders#remus sanders#roman sanders#janus sanders#creativitwins#patton sanders#logan sanders#platonic moxiety#knives#kidnapping#carjacking#murder mentioned#guns mentioned#adriana writes#road trips and missing persons
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big rant/ramble below, you can safely ignore and move on to the next post in your feed.
Urgh
I shared the results of that autism screener with a quasi-friend who I thought would be "safe" (we used to work together and we connected over his being gay and me being visibly queer) but his response was blergh
Everyone has hints of autism.
okay yeah but this isn't just *hints* of autism. I'm answered yes to symptoms I've had since I was a kid that I've learned to mask or work around as an adult. But I still struggle with them.
He pointed out that he sees me as more ADHD than ASD.
Yeah, fair, and I'd need to see a professional to try to distinguish if my symptoms are ADHD, ASD, or both.
You don't hit the three prongs needed for a diagnosis.
But.... but I do. And the stuff I dealt with as a kid is still stuff I deal with today. I just mask it better. A short and not exhaustive list:
As I kid I had trouble interacting with peers. I didn't have friends, really. I didn't know how to make friends and I didn't try terribly hard to. I acquire friends when someone else "adopts" me and decides that we are friends. And once I became an adult, I have almost never had friends of my own - I share a friend group with my spouse who we're primary connected to through him. I'm okay with that. Maintaining a friendship entirely on my own power sounds impossible and exhausting.
I was okay with not having friends, I liked being alone, but my mom insisted on me being social. She made me join things so that I would have a list of people to invite to parties. I'd honestly have preferred a day of doing stuff I like or just a couple friends. As an adult, I want to be alone on my birthday. I will celebrate with certain friends, separately, usually over a quiet meal. That's it.
I had trouble understanding sarcasm and figurative speech. Like, I understand it now but I still think most figurative speech is annoying. I've been told the way I deliver sarcasm is weird, too.
I liked memorizing movies and quoting them start to finish, I thought it was fun but everyone else thought it was weird. I continued to do this into adulthood but I only quote aloud when I'm alone. Alamo Drafthouse quote-alongs are the BEST. I don't do this with every movie, either, just ones I really like.
Okay actually I also liked to listen to the same album or, in some cases, the same song over and over until I was sick of it (and sometimes even after that point). I mean, just endlessly looping on repeat. Not interspersed with other songs. I do this as an adult a LOT because it's easier with headphones to do this without annoying everyone else around you. Like, often it's fine for me to just put a playlist on shuffle, but I get into Moods where I just want the one album/song over and over. Yesterday I listened to Wellerman about 50 times in a row and only stopped because I had to get up and do something else and that song wasn't "good" for whatever I got up to do.
My special interest as a kid was cats. Literally everything cats, all the time - I sought out obscure facts and could tell you the difference between similar species, and wanted cats involved in literally everything I did. Adults laughed it off as childhood obsession. I was also pretty obsessed with the solar system. I thought asking my peers, as a trivia question, which of Jupiter's moons had its own asteroid (Io, in case you were wondering) was appropriate and interesting and was confused that they didn't know that. That was in fifth grade.
I watched the weather channel for fun. I would watch it for hours and absorb the weekly forecast info just... for fun? I never used it, could never tell you if you should dress a certain way or bring an umbrella or whatever. Everyone thought it was weird.
I was a know-it-all and literally could not stop myself from bluntly correcting people who were wrong. Didn't know or care that it was "rude". I'm still that way but I've learned how to sometimes swallow the urge long enough to find a more tactful way to point it out (but often fail).
I could read on my own before kindergarten, used vocabulary beyond what one would expect for my age, and had a special interest in spelling and grammar throughout my school years. I did not understand how other people weren't interested in learning about it and getting it right. I read at an undergrad level by 4th grade.
I hated loud noises and often covered my ears to block out irritating sounds. I could also hear high pitched noises that even other kids didn't seem to hear (or at least weren't bothered by them). Too much noise sent me into an internal meltdown, I'd just kinda shut down because I couldn't deal with it.
Textures and pressure on my skin bothered the absolute fuck out of me - sock seams, certain fabric materials, socks that weren't equally elastic, one shoe tighter than the other, tags.... all of that. (Also, fun anecdote I just unlocked - when I was 4 or 5 my grandmother started letting me use the soft silk sleep shirt she had as a young woman because I preferred it to anything else. Soft, smooth, no irritating qualities. Bliss. I wanted to wear it all the time.)
Don't get me started on food. Until I was in COLLEGE I mostly subsisted on pasta with either butter or alfredo sauce and chicken. I would eat other things, but pasta and/or chicken was (and still is) my biggest safe/comfort food. I'd eat other stuff mostly if I could control the balance of ingredients, get it made plain, or could confirm the texture wouldn't be offensive (so, like... plain burgers, plain cheese pizza, grilled cheese, mashed potatoes, etc.) I cannot stress this enough - from childhood through COLLEGE I did this. As a kid my mom had to make me a completely separate dish most nights to get me to eat something. My spouse was horrified at what little variety I ate. The only reason I eat so much variety now is that he knows what I do/don't like and tells me in advance if I'll find a texture or taste offensive. Of course, rather than wanting consistent texture like I did when I was younger, I now seek as much texture as possible (so long as they aren't Bad textures) so.... that's fun. But yeah most of my objections to Yucky foods is due to T E X T U R E. Even if I like the taste, the texture overrides it all.
I prefer animals to people. I will seek out animals and interact with them instead of people in the same room. And will pointedly focus on the animal to avoid interacting with people.
I'm perfectly happy with only myself for company. Being with just my spouse counts as me being "alone" though. Always has. I just realized last night that it's because I do minimal to no masking around him because he's a safe person to unmask with and always has been. Never batted an eye at the weird shit I do beyond asking questions about what I was doing or why. And then just "Okay."
Okay honestly just the fact that I want to vent into the void of tumblr instead of actually discussing this with a person - even my spouse! - pretty effectively shows how little it occurs to me to interact with other people directly. o_0
And there are so many more things that I won't list here because I could just go on and on. And like, sure, some of this may certainly overlap with ADHD but my point is that I have enough to point to ASD that it doesn't feel like having a "hint" of autism. And who knows - maybe it is mostly just ADHD and CPTSD stuff interacting in weird ways. Could be!
But just because I can make small talk and make eye contact and do the "normal" shit and I can interact "normally" doesn't mean I LIKE it. I had to LEARN to do those things to avoid having bad social interactions. When I'm by myself or with my spouse, I behave very differently than I do around anyone else. ANYONE. It's not just slightly changing my behavior depending on who I'm with - it's completely suppressing how I naturally would do things if left to my own devices.
Like, the things we recommended to our autistic students who wanted to know how to interact in ways that would help them blend in/be accepted by others ARE THE EXACT THINGS I ALREADY DO. Like, it did not occur to me at the time that neurotypicals literally do not have to think about doing those things. I thought, ah, these students just need to be told what the tricks are. Other people figure these tricks out on their own. It did not occur to me that other people, in fact, do not learn these tricks because they naturally do that behavior. They do not have to actively think about learning the trick, period. I literally thought other people also have to think as hard as I do about interactions. Evidently not.
So yeah, I'm feeling a little upset about the reaction I got from him because I'm like.... honestly, a diagnosis of ASD wouldn't change a lot about how I do things or think of things. But it would make me feel better about interacting with and participating in autism-related stuff if I am actually autistic. I realize I can use the resources and supports meant for ASD regardless, and for formal supports anything I can access due to my ADHD diagnosis likely covers anything I'd need for ASD. But having a diagnosis opens up more community. Right now I'm like yeah I'm ADHD but I totally relate to this ASD content. But I'm not going to interact much because I feel like I don't have the right to join in since idk if I do have ASD.
idk I have a lot of feelings. I had a bad email about the trans insurance coverage thing yesterday and I'm not in a great headspace, but finding out me and my spouse both scored very high on the autism screening stuff was honestly a high point because we ended up sharing a lot of how we view and interact with the world that was very eye-opening about why we interact the way we do, how we relate to others (and how other people think we're weird for how we relate to others), and just...everything. And having someone be skeptical after I've spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that I DON'T have ASD only to conclude that at the very least, I should probably be evaluated because I can't reasonably rule it out. Like, most people do not wonder if they have autism. The fact that I am spending this much time looking into it and trying to find examples to disprove it only to find I overwhelmingly can't in virtually every single diagnostic category.... just..... dismissing it outright is kinda hurtful.
Like, I recognize that ADHD symptoms overlap a fair bit, but seriously. My spouse (who definitively does not have ADHD) scored almost identically to me and we vibed on almost everything when we compared answers. We see most things similarly. We have similar areas of confusion about other people and for fundamentally similar reasons. I can't imagine all of the stuff that points to ASD for me is just ADHD in disguise, not when I vibe THAT HARD with someone else. Spouse does not vibe with me on ADHD content. At all. He can appreciate it since he does live with me, after all, and observes whatever's being discussed. But he doesn't vibe with it. He vibes with autism content, though. And I vibe with both.
idk this rant ended in rambling and I'm just going to go listen to Inside on repeat for a couple hours while I try to calm down a bit. o_0
#rant over#for now#I've actually been listening to Inside for the last twenty minutes already lol#maybe I'll try to nap#idk#blergh#yay Shit is playing now and I'm like LOL cause I did wake up at 11:30 feeling like shit#woot#what a bop#I'm like hell yeah you get it#let's vibe
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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.22
Channeling his outer age instead of his inner, Lance let his manners go out the window somewhere after his third glass of wine. Each glass was technically two glasses, so now he had a nice pleasant buzz going on as he sat on his kitchen counter with Blue. He’d totally been a “Debby Downer”, and if he wasn’t kind of still having a slightly premature midlife crisis, he would have invited Hunk over to hang with him and Keith... Right. Like he could do that. What was he supposed to tell Hunk if he suddenly like sneezed and turned into a bat? God... What if he couldn’t jerk off anymore and what if he turned into a bat when he tried? Wait... when was the last time he tried to jerk off? Fuck... He couldn’t remember.
“Laaaaance? Are you even fucking listening?”
Keith looked grumpy, glaring at the pizza base before him. Keith wasn’t quite ready for the whole pizza from scratch experience, so Lance had grabbed a few bases much to the disgust of Hunk
“Sorry. I completely zoned out. What’s up?”
“I asked you what the hell I’m supposed to do with this thing?”
Keith had barely spread the sauce across the base. Trying to get the woodfired oven on had been the easiest part of the whole ordeal. Keith really loved setting shit on fire. Shiro was now in even deeper shit over the things he hadn’t taught his brother, and for apparently raising an anger loaf that was also a pyromaniac
“You want to put about twice the amount of sauce on the base. Then you put the cheese on. You gotta put the cheese on the bottom because it’s like the glue that sticks your toppings down”
Keith reached out, plucking the wine glass out of Lance’s hand
“No more until you’ve had dinner”
“But...”
“Nope. If I have to cook, you have to tell me what the fuck I’m doing”
Ugh. Stupid Keith. He was ruining Lance’s budding buzz. Scooching Blue away, Lance slid himself off the counter, to move behind Keith
“Now what are you doing?”
Rolling his eyes at the hunter, Lance grabbed the squeezie bottle of pizza sauce around him
“I told you. You need more sauce. Here, I’ll squeeze and you spread”
“Don’t day that again?”
“What? Squeeze and spread?”
Keith huffed at him in annoyance. This was probably the closest they’d been in their human forms. Keith was between his arms, his heart was racing, as Lance teased him by standing right behind him
“That. You’re supposed to be the mature one here”
“Ah, young grasshopper. I’m slightly, a bit, maybe, tipsy. And I may also sound like a douche right now, but Shiro should have taught you how to make pizza. How do you live in Rome, and not know how to make a damn pizza? I feel like someone in Italy just died”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“Yep. But you asked what to do. Spread he sauce across the base, then add the cheese”
Squeezing the bottle too hard, the lid popped off, sauce going pretty much everywhere in the immediate radius
“You did that on purpose?! Can’t you just be normal?!”
Keith saw red, Lance stepping out of his personal space with his hands up in surrender
“I swear that wasn’t on purpose. Take your shirt off, I’ll put it in to soak”
“There’s washing machine...”
That there was. But Lance hadn’t said to strip and chuck his shirt in the wash
“I know that. That’s why I said I’d put it in to soak”
“I know how to soak a shirt. Whatever. This is pointless.. You can’t even take this seriously”
Lance’s mood began to fall. He hadn’t meant to piss Keith off. He’d honestly squeezed too hard by accident... Now he felt like a dick. Drunk Lance was a tad obnoxious
“You’re right. I can’t even control how hard I squeeze a plastic bottle, how am I supposed to teach you anything when I’m like this? Go put your shirt in to soak, I’ll clean this up”
“What... but...”
“You don’t have to pretend Keith. It’s fine. For the foreseeable future it’s your home too. You don’t have to go along with the things I say. I thought it might be fun, but I messed it up. I’ll be in my office for the rest of the night. Make sure you eat. Don’t worry about the mess... I’ll deal with it when I’ve calmed down”
*
Whatever that was, Keith was kind of sure he’d been the one who’d messed up. He’d thought Lance was genuinely mocking him when he stood behind all weirdly, and popped the bottle of pizza sauce everywhere. He’d made pizzas with Shiro before, but those had the sauce and cheese already on the base, and he wasn’t actually that keen on pizzas that seemed to swim in sauce. He wasn’t even really that mad about his shirt, considering it was black. They’d kind of had a moment where he thought things might be okay. He’d noticed Lance frowning at his wine glass, and thought dragging him out of his thoughts was the right thing to do. Now he’s gone and fucked up. Lance had fled from him.
Staring at the sauce, Keith nodded to himself. Lance might think he hated him, and he didn’t want that... not that he liked Lance, but they were stuck together and the man seemed pretty high strung, despite the way he was acting. He could totally make pizza for dinner... Alone. Unsupervised. He wasn’t some kid who knew nothing. The toaster had totally eaten his toast and was to blame went it went up in flames. He could do this. He was going to do this and Lance was going to eat pizza because fuck him and his overdramatic arse.
Scraping the sauce onto another base, Keith left a trail of mess as he figured things out. He didn’t know what herbs went on pizza, yet he didn’t have to when the herb jars came labelled and one conveniently said “Pizza Herbs”. Herbs were spilt, Blue leapt up to eat the cheese and diced ham that went the same way as the herbs. He didn’t know how Lance felt about garlic, but a few cloves wound up on both their pizzas all the same. Yeah. He could totally do this. His skill left much to be desired, but Keith was quietly proud as he slid both pizzas into the oven... both way too loaded, with toppings that’d slid into the middle as he moved them.
Waiting until it looked done, Keith had nothing else to do but play with Blue. She was cute, and she didn’t seem to have the same attitude as her owner. Licking sauce off her paw, her little tongue poked out as Keith interrupted her grooming by wiping his hand over the crumbs on the bench, knocking some onto the floor in his attempt to “clean up”. Maybe he should get a pet? Something to wait for him when he got home... He wouldn’t mind a cat like Blue, secretly feeling black cats were the best despite what people might say with their silly superstitions. Distracted by Blue and the crumbs, Keith swore as he smelt something burning, Blue jumping off the counter and running out the kitchen as if he’d insulted everything she’d held dear by semi-yelling “fuck!”.
The pizzas weren’t cremated. Slightly black around the edges, with the cheese in the middle kind of weirdly unmelted but golden enough to pass as done. He didn’t need Lance to tell him what to do. He’d done it all by himself, like the 26 year old man he was. Now all he had to do was plate up... after he reclaimed his pizzas from the oven. Shiro always did them in a normal oven, pulling the pizza out by the side of the crust, having pushed them further back, Keith didn’t fancy getting burned on the flat metal trays built into the wood oven. His go to were tongs... succeeding in ripping the crust, meaning he had to try pull them out by hand... burning his fingertips as he did. That didn’t matter. He’d proved Lance wrong by creating two edible pizzas and he was pretty damn proud. Keith wanted to try out his new camera to photograph his kitchen triumph, but he also wanted to wait until after dinner when he could crash out on the lounge and explore its features properly...
Keith came to a stop, realising what he’d been thinking. He was... first he called this place “home”, now he was making plans to spend the evening binging horror movies as he played with his camera... He was far too comfortable here... What would Lance think if he made himself at home? Would be happy? Or would he be interrupting Lance’s night by taking over the TV? Lance wasn’t in a great place... Crap. What if he’d turned back into a bat? Would he be mad if Keith ate his pizza? Maybe if he cut them up and served them on two plates in the living room, it wouldn’t be weird for Keith to eat Lance’s share? If he was a bat, he could sit on the coffee table and nibble around the edges... Shit... The hunter’s hand itched to grab his phone out so he could call Shiro for help... Buuuuut... Shiro would be cranky if he called him over the best way to casually rub Lance’s face in the fact he’d made dinner. His brother might not even believe he’d been the one who cooked... Fuck. Okay. He could do this. It was pizza night with Shiro, only Lance was Shiro, and he wasn’t that great of a stand in... but the principle of the night was the same. Beer, pizza, horror movies...
*
Setting up things in the living room, Keith pulled up Netflix, leaving the remote conveniently close. He’d moved Lance’s glass of red wine and blood next to one of the pizzas, and uncapped his beer beside his own. Trying to cut through the slices with the pizza cutter hadn’t worked, just like those stupid wheels never worked the other hundred times he’d tried. Running his fingers through his hair, he felt king of nervous. He wanted to do a nice thing, kind of... Plus he hadn’t destroyed Lance’s kitchen in the process, so that definitely earned him extra brownie points. Now he just had to disturb Lance and hope he wasn’t about to be attacked for doing so.
Knocking on Lance’s office door, the vampire didn’t even acknowledge his presence. Slightly miffed that Lance was being so petty, he threw it open and succeeding in scare the crap out of him. Leaning back in his chair, Lance had some weird green goo covering his face, his ears covered with headphones... or rather, that’d been the way it’d been before he’d scared Lance badly enough he’d fallen out of his chair
“Jesus! What the hell, man?!”
Stifling a laugh, Keith sucked in his lips, Lance collecting himself up as he slid his headphones down. It was time to drop that bomb
“I made dinner”
Lance pursed his lips, brow wrinkled as he paused pushing himself up
“You should come grab something to eat. We’re having dinner in front of the TV”
Lance tilted his head to the left. The position he was in didn’t look comfortable
“You made dinner?”
“You don’t need to sound so shocked”
“But I messed things up”
“Not everything revolves around your actions. Whatever. You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to”
“What? No. Dude. I mean... I didn’t think... You cooked?”
Lance didn’t seem as impressed as Keith had hoped, he seemed more dubious over the quality of the food. Now Keith felt kind of annoyed he’d mentally made a big deal of it
“Pizza, beer, and movies... Shiro and I tried to do it when we could”
“You and Shiro cooked?”
Keith wished he had something he could throw at Lance. He didn’t need to sound so damn shocked. Cross his arms, the hunter’s voice held the strong tone of a pout
“We’re not useless. It’s not that hard to put some stuff on a pizza and bake it. If you’re going to keep making a deal of it, then you can make your own dinner”
“I didn’t say you were useless. I’m surprised seeing I was a total dick”
“You weren’t a dick. I thought you were making fun of me until I remembered that you can’t actually control your strength that well at the moment, not that the wine helped. I’m heading back to the living room, you do whatever you want”
“Dude, I’m totally there. Give me a tick to wash this stuff off, then I’ll be all good to go”
That right there was why he couldn’t keep up with Lance. That sudden change in upward mood wasn’t something he was used to. Most hunters had seen too much shit to be that happy, ever. Now his whole damn face was lit up, like Keith had given him some great gift. Fucked if Keith knew what it was meant to be, and fucked if he was going to waste brain power figuring it out.
Heading back to the living room, Keith flopped down on the sofa with a satisfied groan. Blue watching it his every move judgmentally from her spot on the tv cabinet as Keith forced himself up to retrieve his pizza and his beer, slumping back then noticing the remote laying on the table, the bastard out of reach. Keith rubbed at his face with his right hand, before leaning forward again to snag the remote. There wasn’t anything in particular he had in mind, more after background noise so fill in the gaps when Lance clammed up. Keith could see it now. He’d ask, Lance would say “after dinner”, then the chance to talk would slip away. Sliding out a piece of ham, Blue came flying, straight up into Keith’s lap with both paws on his leg as she craned upwards for the tasty treat
“Don’t tell you father”
“Don’t tell me what? Blue, are you conning food out again?”
Blue was on her third tiny square of ham as Lance shuffled in, he’d changed into his pyjamas, slippers scuffing on the wooden floor
“What was that?”
“I heard you telling her not to tell”
“Oh. She’s allowed ham, isn’t she?”
Keith couldn’t remember if it was cats or dogs who weren’t supposed to have ham
“Just a little bit. Wow, it looks good”
Keith went with the topic change, it was best to let Lance think he had his guard down
“Of course it does, I made it myself”
“You must have had a great teacher. What are we watching?”
“I was thinking something horror. Shiro and I like to point out everything they got wrong”
“Now you sound like Pidge. We only watch the b-grade stuff because Hunk gets scared”
Lance sidestepped his way between Keith and the coffee table, Keith realising he hadn’t put much space between them as he’d given his new camera a whole cushion space to itself
“Does Hunk gets scared often?”
“He has a healthy fear of everything that he needs to. He’s the biggest ball of warm feels in existence”
Lance sat himself down carefully, avoiding dropping down and causing Keith’s pizza to slide
“No one can be that nice”
“Hunk is. He would have come home tonight with me if I’d let him. He’s like chronically stuck in care bear mode. No one can be mad at Hunk, it’s like physically impossible”
Keith didn’t buy it. Everyone had that point they reached when all that was left was anger
“There had to be a time he got mad...”
Lance nodded as he leaned forward to grab his plate of pizza and what was left of his wine
“Yeah. But never without good reason, and he always faces his fears. He’s not too bad with spooky movies, but when you get into in the TV shows, he gets jumpy. Out of respect, we don’t watch a lot of squeamish things, you know, those movies they make filled with bloody scenes purely to have bloody scenes. I have so much respect for him”
Lance truly loved his friends. Keith could hear it in his words as plainly as he could see it on his face
“And Pidge?”
“She’d set the world on fire with a smile if you messed with her or anyone she loved. She’s fierce, but amazing. She’s like a super hacker, and she’s never met a piece of tech she hasn’t been able to make her bitch”
It must be nice to have friends like that. Friends that had your back for no reason other than the fact you were friends. Keith couldn’t say he knew that feeling, always feeling on the outside as everyone else moved on without him. He’d worked with other hunters, and had classes and training with other hunters, yet still felt insignificant. It scared him to think about what they’d say about him.
Lance settled back, elbowing him playfully as he did
“This really does look good. I didn’t mean to get sauce everywhere. I kind of lost it for a bit when I got back to my office. Now, if we’re watching some bad horror movie, please don’t pick anything with vampires. They always get it wrong”
“You’re not bloodsucking monsters that turn to ash in the sun?”
“Nope. Some of us are. I don’t”
Keith raised an eyebrow
“You don’t, what?”
“Turn into ash. I can see my reflection. I think maybe a stake to heart might kill me off, but I’m not 100 percent sure”
“You can walk around in the sun?”
“I can sun bake and everything. Plus, no sparkles bitches”
God’s love was found in the light. Vampires were supposed to be turn to dust because God had turned his back on them. Keith was a little dubious over the whole thing, but exorcists did exist, so there had to be something there
“I thought you’d love to be all sparkly”
“Nah. It’d draw too much attention. Younger me, maybe. Current me, not so much”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m old and cranky. I want to live as normally as possible. I don’t want to turn into a damn disco ball when all I want to do is enjoy a little bit of sun”
This guy had to be an idiot. Keith forcing himself not to gape. He wanted information on vampires, and now Lance had turned off his filter completely
“What else did they get wrong?”
“I firmly believed the whole “bat thing” was wrong until I went and turned into one. Garlic doesn’t really do much. I can eat human foods, but after about half an hour I need to use the bathroom. Blood... bags are good. I mean, I prefer them over anything fresh. As far as I know we don’t survive being burned to death, I know there’s a myth about turning into a bat and grave soil, but I’ve never tried it. Wounds we give ourselves sometimes take much longer to heal than something like being stabbed. Being immortal sucks arse. They got the rage and ego bit right. Silver’s not terrible. I show up on camera... I have super human senses, and can move faster than you’d think... I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know either”
Keith did. He wanted to know everything when it came to a human who’d been turned. He wanted to understand what Adam had been through in his final hours
“I do”
Lance raised his eyebrow at him, Keith wondering he’d been sprung for pushing him to talk
“I think you’d know more about being a vampire than I would. I was never one for clans and covens. I’ve met other vampires and honestly, they scared me. The first time I saw a vampire feed on a human pet, I threw up. The way they treated people... I couldn’t do it. Vampires have egos. Feeding that ego is a dangerous game. I know I’m probably not the only one who’s trying to live as normally as possible, but it makes it hard to reach out to anyone when they’re mostly douches. Werewolves are kind of the same, except it’s all about how strong they are. There’s pack leaders, but that’s only because that’s a human concept. There’s no alpha leader, instead there’s a pack leader. Some dick that always thinks they’re the greatest thing since the invention of the wheel. It’s fucked up and enough to drive you mad if you spend too long in that world”
Krolia had spent years in that world. Keith hadn’t even known what a legacy was when Shiro showed up in his life. He’d been a burden all his life since the death of his father. Shiro had opened a whole new world to him, had given him a home and a purpose to exist. They might not be biological brothers, but being biologically related to someone didn’t necessarily make them family. Family was something you built, sometimes from absolutely nothing at all. He didn’t know how to talk to his mother any more than he knew how to talk to Lance. For Krolia her duty always came first...
“Can I ask you something?”
“I thought we were past that”
“How did you get turned?”
Lance sighed heavily
“That’s not a great topic of conversation”
“I imagine it’s not... but...”
“You want to understand what happened to Adam. What he went through. I can’t tell you that. Only that he’s in a better place”
“He’s dead”
Nothing happened why you died... Keith couldn’t say he was convinced over this heaven and hell stuff...
“I’d rather be dead than risking the lives of those I love. Turning... it brings up a lot of memories that won’t leave me alone. Some humans take the turn willingly and I can’t for the life of me think why. Maybe if they had a kind sire, and you know, they had like absolutely no choice and I don’t know... but... it’s hard to talk about. Ten out of Ten would not recommend. I guess that makes me like that 1 dentist that never recommends shit”
Keith groaned deeply, dropping his head back and staring at Lance
“Why do you always do that? Deflect like that to humour?”
“Because some things are so fucked up thay if you don’t laugh you’re gonna fucking cry. It’s my unhealthy coping mechanism, like some people have smoking”
“It’s annoying. It makes it hard to like you”
Lance beamed at him, Keith had the feeling he was being mocked again
“Aw man, you like me!”
“Go fuck yourself”
“Eh, too much like effort. Who needs sex when you’ve got pizza. Thanks for this. I think I needed it”
“You’re welcome, but you can still go fuck yourself”
Lance had the nerve to wink at him
“Only if you go first”
Keith blushed red, spluttering some kind of loud squeak before promptly shutting up. Lance could suck his metaphorical dick.
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Chapter Five
Louis answered the facetime call grinning at the man across the screen still in a bed.
"Happy birthday and Merry Christmas Eve. Have you opened your presents yet?"
"No thought I would wait for you to wake up, but I do have the gifts here along with the one with two bows which I'm assuming is my Christmas Eve present."
"Yes, it is. The very thin one is last altogether and the big cube is first."
"Everything else doesn't matter?"
"Not really however if you'd rather do the Christmas eve present first and let it start up while you open the rest then make sure to open the cube second. I bought myself one and it took a few minutes to start up so."
"It's too big to be a phone."
"Very observant."
"You do know I have a laptop right?"
"A broken laptop."
"Harold."
"Just come on and open it. I got it for a lot of reasons."
"Well, I already know what it is now." Louis told him
"Just shut up and open your Christmas Eve gift. Its Christmas I'm allowed to buy you expensive things." Harry said
"You bought me a Samovar."
"Please." Louis sighed heavily as he grabbed the gift, he looked at Harry who was grinning
"Where are you anyway? It's not the bus is it?"
"No, I'm in my LA home. The others are sleeping at a hotel though I offered them rooms here." Harry said
"You're alone on Christmas?" Louis asked stopping his unwrapping momentarily to look at Harry. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but he frowned and looked off camera before looking back at Louis after a second.
"No, my family is here. I'm trying to be quiet so they think I'm asleep otherwise they'll come in here. Well, go on then open it." Louis ripped the wrapping paper and shot Harry a glare when the box revealed the newest MacBook.
"Harold-"
"No, before you complain listen. This will give us better angles for video calls."
"Our phones worked just fine."
"Just shut up and take it." Louis shook his head as he stared at Harry. Harry with his long curly hair pulled into a bun, his pearl necklace laying against his bare chest, his little stubble on his jaw. His soft smile and soft eyes.
"So the cube next?" Louis asked looking away from Harry
"Yes. The cube." It was heavy in it's own way despite its medium size. He tore the gift open and froze when he saw the team logo.
"Wait..seriously?" Harry chuckled grinning as Louis grabbed the shadow box holding a signed ball from the entire Doncaster Rovers team, "Harry."
"I only paid for the shadow box, I know a lot of the players so when I told them my boyfriend is a huge fan the offered to sign a ball for me to give to you."
"Harry this is incredible. I can't open the rest Haz I won't be as excited now."
"Louis trust me it gets better." Louis put the shadow box to the side and grabbed another box placing it on his lap. Opening the box he pulled out four jerseys, two for home games, and two for away games. One set was for Doncaster and the other for Manchester. The third gift was two sets of five lanyards for the Manchester and Doncaster stadiums giving them access and free drinks and food in a VIP box.
"Harry.. but wait why five?"
"I'll be home near the middle of the season." Louis looked at Harry grinned, he bought the phone screen to his lips and kissed him making Harry laughed.
"One more. Is the MacBook set up?" Louis glanced at the MacBook then started to finish setting it up. "Open the last one and play it."
"Harry, I swear if you make me cry." Louis said as he grabbed the thin square package. He already knew it was a cd which meant a personalized playlist, a cheesy montage of their time together, or something along those lines, and honestly, Louis wasn't ready for either of those options.
"I am going to let you listen to it alone and I will take a shower and eat breakfast then we can talk in about two hours?"
"Alright." Harry leaned in to the screen and kissed the lens making Louis laugh. The facetime ended so Louis focused on the gift revealing the cd and placing it in the CD tray. He clicked on the pop up then pressed play turning the volume up.
"I know you don't want us to say the L-word until we meet for the first time. So I wrote something that I hope will express my feelings for you as strongly and clearly as I can and um... this might give away who I am, but I'm not scared about that. I've been trying to find a way to tell you for a few weeks now since you fell asleep on our facetime call in Australia. So I um... I hope you like it I guess and if you do find out who I am and if you need a few days to think about what being in a relationship with me would involve then let me know. If you come to a decision of ending things just know that I trust you and I'm sorry and I completely understand why you would decide that. If you still want to be with me then great and we can talk more on the depth of everything like if you want to be public about our relationship or not. Whatever you want. Alright.. before I say the word you don't want me to I'm going to stop this and let you listen. Bye." Louis laughed at his awkward boyfriend shaking his head as a soft piano came over the speakers.
"If I could fly
I'd be coming right back home to you
I think I might
Give up everything just ask me to
Pay attention, I hope that you listen
Cause I've let my guard down
Right now in completely defenseless
For your eyes only
I'll show you my heart
For when you're lonely
And forget who you are
I'm missing half of me
When we're apart
Now you know me
For your eyes only."
Louis closed his eyes to keep his traitorous tears back. Harry's voice was raw, but sounded beautiful and Louis had a hard time focusing on what he was singing. He did recognize the voice, he knew he has heard it on the radio quite a few times, but he was terrible at remembering names. He knew that once he actually knew who Harry was he'd feel pretty damn stupid, but right now he couldn't think of anything. Louis replayed the song five times before it the lyrics finally sunk in and Louis understood this was Harry telling Louis that he Loved him with a capital 'L'.
Like he was completely in and completely gone for Louis. Louis would be lying if he said the thought didn't terrify him, but he felt the same way about Harry. He had fallen when Harry had answered a facetime with the widest grin, completely shirtless, and a towel wrapped around his waist. HIS WAIST. Not his hips like a normal person, his waist which meant his towel had stopped pretty high on his thighs. But Louis hadn't even noticed that until after he had completely fallen for his dimples and open mouth smile and his wet hair and his perfect complexion. Louis was pretty sure he had stopped breathing for a minute only to stop breathing again when Harry had straightened up and Louis had noticed his towel situation.
Nothing had been revealed, but still, it was the principal of things. Harry had perfect thighs and it was rude. How dare he just answer a facetime looking like a god while Louis had been wearing a stained holey band shirt and stained sweats with pizza sauce on the corner of his mouth. He had been tempted to break up with him because of it. Of course, he had talked himself out of it, but the thought had lingered in his head for a few seconds.
****
Two hours later Louis escaped to his room and accepted the facetime request. Harry was outside this time, but he was looking off-camera at someone.
"Mom. I love you, but please leave now."
"What if you need me?"
"Mom go away," Harry said
"But what if he's mean to you."
Mom. I'm 21 and I've been talking to him for months."
"Remember the last Doncaster boy you liked? He took your number and never texted you."
"I was 14 mom, I wouldn't have texted me either. Now go away."
"Fine. I'll be inside if you need me." Harry turned to the phone with a soft blush on his cheeks
"You had another Doncaster boy? Should I be worried?" Louis asked
"No, it was 2009 and at a battle of the bands. He was a singer in this band."
"Wait...shut up...2009 battle of the bands?" Louis asked sitting up straighter
"Yeah, why?"
"No fucking way. What was the guy's band name?" Louis asked not able to believe it
"Band name? I don't know it was...seven years ago. Rogue something I think or maybe something Rogue."
"Shut up."
"What?" Harry asked amused
"That was my band. The Rogue. We met before Harry."
"No."
"Yes. Me mom has the picture we took together in one of the photo albums back home in Donny."
"You're shitting me. We snogged that day."
"We snogged in the toilet stall after you peed on me. The first time." Louis told his embarrassed boyfriend making him even more embarrassed as he buried his face in his arms.
"Oh my god. Please stop talking now." Louis laughed even harder as he thought back to 2009, "wait didn't we meet again? At the script concert?"
"We did. We met up in the toilets. I think you were leaving when I was coming in."
"Fucking hell." Harry said shaking his head
"Then again that summer when I was on holiday and again in 2010 at the X Factor auditions."
"No."
"Yes. We have met four fucking times already." Louis said as he remembered Harry again
"Well after eight years I finally get your number." Harry said making Louis blush
"Well, I can explain. The first time I never actually saved it. I typed it, but I forgot to save it so when I tried to text you I couldn't. Then after the concert, I was actually struggling with coming out and being comfortable with it all. The holiday I still hadn't come out so I sort of ignored you then we didn't exchange numbers at the auditions. I left early anyway so I never actually auditioned."
"What? Why not? Louis, you should have auditioned. I remember you having an amazing voice."
"And lose to you? No thanks. Talk about a busted ego." Harry shook his head smiling as he laid his chin on his hand
"I actually didn't win. When you get to the Live Shows they give you this new contract to sign in case they want to sign anyone who doesn't win. A lot of the other contestants warned me about bad labels and what they can do and that they could closest someone. I was already being labeled and branded as a lady's man at 16 on that show. I refused to sign the contract and they organized my elimination three weeks later. Simon tried to talk me out of it a lot, but I refused and told my mom I didn’t want to be forced into a five to ten-year closet. Six months later Sony got a hold of me and told me that I would be able to coke out whenever I wanted, but until then they did want to promote me as straight which I was fine with. Luckily it had to wait until I was 18 so when I turned 18 they had me date Taylor Swift. I'm not out publicly yet, but I just never really had a reason to come out."
The first thing that popped into Louis' head was "Harry Styles" but that was insane because Harry was...like...18 and had a mop of curls. He did not have tattoos or long hair nor was he 21 turning 22. Louis was positive he had just turned 18 last year.
"That's good that you were warned and was able to escape before you were legally straight."
"Yeah, it is. A little upset I will never know if I would have won or not, but I guess having my first album get platinum within a week was proof enough that I would have at least made top 5."
~~~~~
Harry had gotten Niall an expensive whiskey that Niall was excited about and a limited edition Baccarat Louxor Bar Set. Liam got a $100 tattoo voucher for the local parlor he liked and some Manchester footie merch signed as well like Louis'. Zayn got some expensive hair care products as well as a $100 (my keyboard doesn't have the pound symbol so sorry about the American dollar) tattoo voucher. For someone who only knew a few things about his roommates he did amazing and they were all excited about everything.
Louis had gotten more gifts from all of the places Harry has been. Some more sweaters, a Japanese dragon jacket that felt expensive and warm. A rice cooker with a side note to follow the instructions causing Louis and the lads to laugh. Harry also bought Louis a Royal Copenhagen complete set which almost made Louis cry. Having a complete Royal Copenhagen set was every tea lover's dream, if they're lucky they are able to collect a few tea cups, but it was rare to get a complete set.
In the last box, Louis opened it revealed a large lilac sweater that was something Louis wouldn't usually wear until he pulled it out. The smell was of a tropical scent mixed with an expensive earthy cologne. That meant the sweater was Harry's along with the other sweaters that were folded neatly into the box. A white Aran turtle neck sweater, a black hoodie with a rose embroidery, and under that was a note over another hoodie reading, "unreleased merch". When Louis pulled out the black hoodie it had "Treat People With Kindness" written in rainbow embroidery across the chest. The last one was a light pink sweater with Harry on the chest and then the same quote on the arm.
"Wait.. your boyfriend sent you Harry Styles merch? You've got to be kidding me." Liam said grabbing the black hoodie from Louis
"What?" Louis asked
"Treat people with kindness. This is Harry Styles' merch, it's like his slogan, his brand." Liam said
"Really?" Louis asked, "isn't he like..17?"
"What? No, he's 21 Louis. He was 17 in 2011." Zayn said as he looked at the hoodie, "I haven't seen this one yet."
"21..and when is his birthday?" Louis asked
"The first of February." Niall told him Louis nodded and grabbed his phone going to the safari app and googling Harry Styles.
Sure enough there he was with long hair and tattoos and extremely long legs. There were also modeling pictures and paparazzi pictures of him at airports and fan pictures. Louis went on Instagram and went to Harry Styles' profile and saw many pictures of the countries landscapes and landmarks he had visited the past few months. One of the posts was a picture of Louis' teddys on Louis' shelf in his bedroom wall that he got just for them. The caption read, "Dating 101 - buy them cheesy €5 souvenirs" Louis made his profile private then commented, "and the sweaters that still smell like you."
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Haste & Leisure Chapter 8: Have a Ball
Marinette, Bridgette, and Max attend the big party at the Agreste house--my version of the Netherfield Ball-- and some shit goes down.
Read it on AO3
Felix was hiding.
Well, not hiding, exactly. It might be his house, but this was not his party and he didn’t have to participate if he didn’t want to. Right now? He didn’t want to. It was even more of a crush than that first mixer they wet to at the University, right after arriving in Paris. He’d expected it, of course. Adrien had turned Felix’s house into an exclusive club for the night, and when was the last time that the famous Agreste Manor had played host to such a public event?
Never, that was when.
The hub of the party was the ballroom. The DJ was ensconced there. Much of that large room was intended for dancing, naturally, but plush couches arranged in attractive groupings provided plenty of seating. At the back of the ballroom, three large double doors opened out onto a large veranda strung with cafe lights and scattered with more seating. It was a gorgeous evening; much of the party had spilled out of doors.
For refreshments, the long table in the dining hall had been shifted to one side and turned into a buffet with wait staff ranged behind it, serving food and replacing emptied trays of hors d'oeuvres.
Hors d'oeuvres , Felix thought with a snicker, swirling the large ball of ice around in his whiskey. Both Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeois would probably have fits when they found out that they’d funded a glorified American style frat party.
Where his father might have served avocado bruschetta, chilled antipasto skewers and shrimp canapés, Adrien had decided on a much more, ah--contemporary menu. There were still the overdone edible arrangements and silly little puff pastries filled with quiche, but they were vastly outnumbered by sliders, pizza, potato wedges, chicken wings and spinach dip. A second, more modest buffet in the ballroom offered more of the same. Tables and chairs had been set up in both rooms to provide guests with a place to sit and eat.
Wet bars placed strategically in the ballroom, dining hall, and veranda would keep anyone from getting thirsty. It was all open bar, but all of the bartenders had been given strict instructions to cut off anyone they suspected of being overly intoxicated in the hopes that it might keep the event from devolving into drunken chaos.
Since that was unlikely to be effective, additional security had been brought in and discreetly stationed throughout the house and grounds. Not only could the drunkenness get out of hand, this sort of event was the perfect opportunity for clever thieves or, more likely, the rabid paparazzi to get into the house and cause mischief.
Yeah, no thanks .
And then there was Chloe’s VIP room. She had taken over a formal living room and turned it into a true VIP lounge complete with yet another wet bar, more of the plush seating, another dance floor and its own separate DJ. Admittance to that lounge was strictly controlled; two bouncers stood at each of the two doorways, carefully screening those attempting to get in. Anyone who was not on her all-important list, or with someone who was on the list, wasn’t getting in there.
Chloe herself was ensconced in the middle of it all, surrounded by celebrities and socialites and completely in her element, while Adrien floated through the various rooms, interacting with his guests like a perfect host while he waited for unwitting guest of honor to show up. Felix was happy to leave her to her throne and him to his mingling. There were only a few people in attendance that he actually cared to see, and all of them were as happily engaged in the party as Adrien. Felix had retreated to his library shortly after the doors had been opened to guests, and he had little intention of returning to the party.
He had just refilled his glass--damn, but he loved that Vintage Reserve from Jameson--when Adrien knocked on the open door, looking troubled. Felix raised his brows in enquiry.
“The girls are here,” he said. “They brought Barbot.”
Fuck . Felix set his glass down with a thunk, then cursed aloud when some of the expensive whiskey splashed onto his hand.
“Should I make him leave?” Adrien asked. “I certainly don’t want himi here, but it is a University event. I figured I’d let you make the call.”
“I’ll do it,” Felix said.
“No, you stay here, Fe. I’ll--”
“He’s my problem, not yours,” Felix snapped. Then he sighed. “I appreciate the offer, Adrien, but I’ll handle it. Thank you for letting me know.”
Adrien frowned at him, but nodded. “I asked them to wait for me in the small office just off the foyer.”
The two men were silent as they made their way downstairs. Felix could hear the bass thump coming from the ballroom, and the rumble of a hundred different conversations, but he hardly noticed. He was preoccupied by the knowledge that Marinette had chosen to bring Barbot.
Had she brought him as a date? Or had they come as a group? He shouldn’t care. What she did was nothing to him. If she wanted to waste her time with a scheming low life, that was on her.
“Bridgette?” Adrien said, and Felix looked up from his brooding to see Marinette standing at the foot of the stairs. He stopped and stared.
She wore a scarlet red dolman top that draped enticingly over her slim figure, hinting at her form rather than exposing it. The loose top had a wide neckline that had slipped off of one shoulder. She’d paired it with sleek black leggings and screaming red heeled sandals. He dragged his eyes back up her body. Her full red lips were pressed into a thin, angry line and her eyes--kohl-lined and narrowed to slits--were fixed on him.
“Where did he go?” Adrien asked, already at the bottom of the stairs. Felix blinked and snapped his mouth shut as he realized that the two Dupain-Cheng girls stood with a young black man that Felix didn’t recognize, but not Barbot. He scanned the others milling around the foyer, but he didn’t see Barbot’s tall form among them anywhere. He continued down the stairs.
“ Théo left,” Marinette said acidly, her blue eyes still locked on his. “So you’ll not have the pleasure of throwing him out, Felix. He said that he wouldn’t stay where he clearly wasn’t welcome.”
“Marinette,” Felix said cooly as he descended the last few steps, ignoring her words. And her lack of a bra. “Bridgette,” he added with more warmth.
“Um, hello, Felix,” Bridgette said, smiling weakly. She was obviously uncomfortable with the hostility between them and trying to diffuse it. She gestured to the young man standing with them. “Have you met our cousin, Max?”
“No, I have not.” Felix held out his hand, trying to ignore his flare of relief. The man was handsome, with strong features and intelligent dark eyes, but he was her cousin. “Felix Agreste,” he said.
“Max Kante,” the young man replied, and shook his hand enthusiastically. “I must compliment you. This house is nearly as spectacular as the manor house at Rosings.”
Felix and Adrien both stared blankly. “Rosings?” Adrien repeated.
“Rosings Park is the former estate of the illustrious De Bourgh family, which has now been given over to higher education.” Max explained pompously. “I myself just transferred from De Bourgh University for the semester--”
“Of course,” Felix interrupted smoothly. He needn’t have worried; the man was a prig. “I’m acquainted with the Arts Dean there, though I have not had the opportunity to visit personally.”
Max brightened and opened his mouth to go on, but Bridgette cut in before he could speak. “Adrien, did I really see pizza on the buffet in the dining room?” she asked.
“You did!” he answered. “Are you hungry? You should try some even if you’re not. I decided to go with an American-inspired menu tonight, and it’s delicious.”
“American foods?” Max asked. “I have little experience with American style cuisine, as mother feels it is inferior.”
Adrien smiled and gestured towards the dining hall. “Here’s your chance. Have you ever tried hot wings? There are a ton of different sauces to try, and...”
Adrien’s voice was quickly lost to the general noise of the party as he led all three of them toward the buffet. Marinette had hesitated long enough to cast another glare in his direction then followed, her back ramrod straight and fists clenched.
When the crowd closed around her, Felix turned back to the stairs with a muttered expletive.
He was so screwed.
Marinette followed a few steps behind the others, somehow feeling simultaneously furious with and attracted to Felix Agreste. How dare he be so brain-numbingly, heart meltingly handsome? Why couldn’t he be as ugly on the outside as he clearly was on the inside?
She wanted to look back, to see if he still watched her, but resisted.
She knew he was watching her. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of turning around to look. It had nothing to do with the fact that she wanted to look back at him--and wanted to find him watching her.
Nope. Absolutely not.
It didn’t matter that his eyes had glittered like blue fire, or that his unexpectedly informal attire would look so damned sexy. What the hell was that about, anyway? She’d never seen him less than perfectly turned out, shirt ruthlessly buttoned to his throat and tie knotted with military precision. Even over the weekend that she and Bridgette had spent here, he’d never relaxed enough to take off his tie or toe off his shoes. But tonight? Tonight he wore his black button-down untucked and open at the throat, his sleeves cuffed and rolled to his elbows, his hair mussed, eyes bright and his fair skin flushed.
He looked like he’d just left someone’s bed, damnit. What was that about? Had he just--
Marinette clamped down on the thought. Nope, not going there. She reminded herself that he had come down here, unprovoked, to make Theo leave as if Felix were the injured party in this situation. He was an ass, and the less she had to do with him the better.
And Theo? He’d bowed out without even trying to stand up to Felix! He’d been the only thing she’d been looking forward to at this party. Now she’d be entertaining Max on his quest for social exposure while Bridgette spent the evening with Adrien.
She couldn’t blame them. She half suspected that Bridgette was the whole reason for this whole event, and who was she to derail her sister’s evening? No one, that was who. Besides, Alya and Nino were around here somewhere. Perhaps they could help her teach Max how to dance.
She found them twenty minutes later, availing themselves of the open bar in the ballroom. She pushed in next to Alya, smiling apologetically at the other people crowded nearby and tugging Max behind her.
“Have you ordered yet?” she asked, after greeting her friends with a hug.
“Nope,” Alya answered. “What do you want? I’ll order for all of us.”
“What’s on tap?”
“Mostly American beers,” Nino answered. “Yuengling, Blue Moon, Budweiser and a few others I don’t recognize, but they have Guinness and Castelaine too.”
“A Blue Moon and a Yuengling, then, I think.”
“But Marinette,” Max began, but was interrupted.
“Two?” Alya blinked, and her eyes flicked to look behind Marinette. “Who else--wait, is that Max?”
Max smiled stiffly. “Good evening,” he said.
“Daaamn,” Alya breathed, and Nino whistled. “That’s quite the change, Max.”
He tugged uncomfortably at his pink henley, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Marinette said that this ensemble is both contemporary, and appropriate to this gathering.”
“It is,” Alya assured him. “That color looks absolutely fantastic with your skin tone, and the cut of that shirt suits you well.” She grinned suddenly, and leaned back into Nino. “You’ve been holding out on us, Kante. Since when do you work out?”
Max blushed, and Nino rolled his eyes. “Easy Al,” he muttered. “You’re gonna give the guy a heart attack.”
Marinette giggled, but rubbed a soothing hand on Max’s back.
“Yoga and tai chi are both a part of my daily meditations,” he said haltingly. “I--it would be remiss to take care with my mind and spirit but to ignore my body.”
“Well, you’ve obviously not been remiss,” Alya said. “Keep it up.”
Max blushed again, and spluttered.
“What do you think?” Nino asked after darting a disapproving look at Alya. “Do you like your new look?”
Max gratefully shifted his attention to Nino. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “The clothes themselves are surprisingly comfortable, but it is strange to be dressed so informally in public.”
“I think you’ll end up liking it a lot,” Marinette said, “once you get used to it, and find your style.”
The bartender got to them then, and Nino placed drink orders for all four of them. They shifted away from the bar and made their way towards one of the lounge areas set up around the room when they had their drinks.
Max eyed his dubiously. “I have never had beer,” he said. “Mother says--”
“You are not your mother,” Marinette said gently. “This is about discovering you, remember? Try it, and mine too if you want, and if you don’t like it then we’ll go back and get you a soda or something.”
“You can try mine too,” said Alya. “I got the Guinness.”
“And I got the Castelaine,” Nino added. “You can have whichever one you like best, dude.”
Max smiled at them, and Marinette was happy to note that his smile seemed less brittle, and more genuine. “What did you say this is?” he asked her, sniffing his beer.
“That’s the Blue Moon. It’s a wheat beer, so it’s kind of dense but it has a good flavor and isn’t at all bitter. I thought it might be a good place to start.”
“Hmm.” He lifted the glass to his lips and took an experimental sip, his expression thoughtful. Then he took another sip, and this time rolled the liquid around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. “Hmm,” he said again.
“Well? Do you like it?” Marinette asked.
“tryIt is--interesting.” He raised the glass again, and took a larger drink.
“Here, try the Yuengling. It’s a lager, and another one that’s pretty mild in flavor.”
Max tried all four beers, but ultimately stuck with his original Blue Moon. He seemed pretty ambivalent about both the lager and the blonde, but definitely did not like the stout. “It’s far too bitter,” he said as he passed the glass back to Alya, his face twisted.
Alya laughed. “It’s not for everyone,” she said.
“Guiness isn’t so bad,” Nino said, shrugging.
“It’s better than those IPAs you love so much,” Marinette tossed back. “Blegh!”
Max took another drink of his own beer, and his expression eased. “I will stick with this one,” he said firmly. “But thank you, for letting me try the others.”
Marinette smiled and lifted her glass. “ Santé , my friends.” They clinked their glasses together, and she wiggled her eyebrows playfully. “Drink up, Max. I think it’s time we teach you how to dance.”
Max choked and nearly spat his drink in their faces. “Me? Dance?”
Even Alya and Nino looked surprised.
“Why not?” she countered. “I mean, no one’s going to twist your arm or anything, but I think you should give it a try.”
“Dancing is way more fun than sitting on the side watching everyone else, that’s for sure.” Nino said.
“Actually, Nino, I rather enjoy people watching,” Max said stiffly. “I also happen to love dancing, but I do not believe that the DJ will be playing any tangos this evening.”
Now all three of them looked at him in surprise. “You can tango?”
“I have studied ballroom dancing since I was twelve,” he said, his tone defensive.
“That’s right!” Marinette’s eyes widened and she tapped the heel of her hand against the side of her head. “I remember now! Maman has mentioned that you dance competitively. You’ll have no problem picking this up!”
It took a bit of gentle coaxing and his stiffness had returned, but Max had agreed to it by the time they’d finished their drinks. He let Marinette lead him to a slightly less crowded area of the dancefloor, then looked uncertainly between the three friends as they started to move.
“Just watch us,” Nino said. “Move to the beat. We’ll start small, but I have a feeling that you’ll pick it up pretty fast.”
His movements were awkward when he first started imitating Nino’s simple steps. “Why can’t we just waltz?” he muttered, and Marinette laughed. He scowled. “I’m quite good at waltzing,” he said.
“I definitely am not,” she answered. “Maybe later, you can teach us to waltz?”
He flashed her a smile, but his attention remained focused on watching other dancers. “Perhaps.”
Nino was right. It wasn’t long at all before Max relaxed into the music. He had an excellent sense of rhythm and was clearly well-coordinated, just a bit self conscious. So long as he wasn’t thinking too hard about what he was doing, his movements were fluid.
He relaxed further when Bridgette and Adrien joined them, expanding their little group and offering more opportunities to take Max out of his own head. They danced in an ever-shifting group, and their evening proceeded quite enjoyably. They'd dance until they got thirsty, take a break for drinks and a bit of fresh air on the veranda, then go back to dancing. Marinette had forgotten all about Felix and Theo both, until Alya moved from where she'd been dancing with Max and made her way over to Marinette so that she could lean in and speak into her ear.
“Felix just walked in,” she said.
Marinette missed a beat. “And?”
“And I’m not sure what you’ve done now, but I think he was looking for you. He stopped right over there and is now trying to murder you with his eyes.”
Marinette turned and sure enough, he stood just beyond the dancefloor, his expression cold and hard. “Come here,” he said, and while she couldn’t hear him over the music, he made his meaning clear by pointing to the ground at his feet as if she were a naughty child being summoned for punishment.
Her mouth fell open and she stopped dancing.
“He must have a death wish,” Alya said flatly. “Are you gonna kill him, or can I?”
Marinette held a staying hand up in front of Alya and placed the other on her cocked hip. “Why should I?” she shot back, knowing that he’d read her lips as well as she’d read his.
His eyes narrowed, and he curled his still-pointing finger into his fist as he raised it to his shoulder. “Fine then.” He lowered his fist and strode forward, cutting rudely through the dancers. Most moved out of his way; the few who thought to protest took one look at his hard face and ticking jaw and changed their minds. He didn’t stop until he stood right in front of her. “I’ll just come to you,” he growled. “I’d prefer to have this conversation behind closed doors, but I don’t suppose you care whether we make a scene, do you?”
Marinette crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “What?”
“Did he promise you a cut?” he demanded harshly.
“What?” Marinette reared back from him and dropped her arms from her chest, wondering if maybe he’d gone insane. “What the fuck are you talking about, Felix?”
She could see that her reaction had startled him, but he didn’t say anything. She scoffed. “You’re the one making a scene. I’m just here to enjoy the party with my friends.” Marinette turned her back on him and started dancing again, determined to ignore him.
She didn’t expect him to step in close behind her, his hands warm on her hips as he began to dance with her. She froze in surprise, but his hands urged her to keep moving. “Is this better?” he asked, his voice low.
“No,” she said. In front of her, Alya and Bridgette both gaped at her. Adrien stared hard at Felix. Alya raised her brows, and Marinette subtly shook her head in answer. No rescue needed. The others slowly went back to dancing, but Marinette noted that they all stayed close. Satisfied that they had her back, she turned to dance with him face to face and draped her arms over his shoulders. He was a good dancer, but she filed that surprise away to be considered later. (The feeling of his hands on her hips and his body brushing hers was to be considered never .) “What is going on, Felix?”
He ignored her question. “What do you know about Barbot?”
“I know that he’s been unlucky enough to lose your friendship,” she said sarcastically.
His jaw flexed. “Why did you bring him here tonight?”
“As my date,” she said, staring at him. Maybe he really had gone insane?
She couldn’t imagine any other explanation for the last five minutes. Then she added, “Not that it’s any of your business.”
He shifted closer to her as they danced, and his fingers tightened on her hips. “It’s my house, Marinette,” he growled into her ear.
She moved her hands down to his chest, thinking to push him away and regain some of her personal space, but the tension between them had shifted and her fingers instead curled around the open collar of his shirt, pulling the fabric taut and widening the vee at his throat. Damn, but he smelled good. “What happened to your tie?” she asked, and had no idea where the question had come from.
He slid one hand up her side, and knew the exact moment he realized--or perhaps remembered--she wasn’t wearing a bra. “I took it off,” he said gruffly. His hand slid back down and he straightened a bit, so that he was looking down at her.
“I’ve never seen you without one.”
“I didn’t intend to participate this evening.”
She flicked her gaze up to him, then back down to the thin sheen of sweat at his throat. “What changed?”
“Excuse me, Mr. Agreste?” A new voice said from very close, and they both froze.
Felix sighed and dropped his hands from Marinette. “Yes, Nathalie?” he asked, his voice tight and his eyes still on her.
Marinette looked from him to the sharply dressed woman standing close to his shoulder.
“I am sorry to interrupt, but there is an issue which requires your attention.”
His lips thinned. “Very well.” He nodded once at Marinette, then turned and stalked from the ballroom.
#haste and leisure#miraculous ladybug#pride & prejudice#callmecirce writes#au#felinette#update#netherfield ball#modern version
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