#sorry folks hes a little spicy tonight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mysticmellowlove · 9 months

Note

Thinking about a pastor yandere, corruption kink most definitely, maybe thigh riding?? 💤

A/n - I have found character ai and now not even god can save me. Also as a side note I tried my best to really nail the atmosphere (because at my roots i am a world building bastard) but if I made any mistakes, sorry :)

Warnings - religion, misuse of religion, corruption kink, sub male, dom gn reader, soft dom, degradation, reader is packing something (dick?strap?we don't know)

The arches of the great church loomed over you as you made your way towards the altar. The stained glass seemed to stare down at you, Mother Mary and baby Jesus looked on in silent judgement. Sitting off to the side of the prayer book stand was the pastor, a young man dedicated to learning endlessly about the world around and beyond him.

You blinked as his head lazily turned to face you and a smile rose to his face. He was soft, his cheeks looked soft and his body seemed to constantly be acting in a graceful way, as if he knew something others did not. You had attended church a couple of times with your family but all in all you were not one for guided prayer.

If you were to worship any god it would be in the quietness of your own safe space.

"So you managed to make it out here tonight, I didn't see you at mass?" The youthful pastor looked up from his lap and grinned in your direction, eagerness in his eyes. There was something about this new guy, something you just couldn't put your hand on.

"Yeah, I thought I'd come out and see what was up." He looked bashfully down at his legs. His fitted pants seemed to be a little too tight on him, the outline of his leg muscles seemed to strain against the fabric. You squinted at him as his hands fiddled.

"I just wanted to check in on you and your folks." There was a slight waver to his voice, a wobble. Something seemed to settle in your mind. He was slightly hunched over, his hands in his lap as his eyes seemed to flit anywhere in the room but you.

"That's not why I'm here is it?" He seemed to snap his eyes up to you, his cheeks grew more and more red.

"No, really it is." He seemed to fiddle more and more, you cocked your head to the side. Maybe you had jumped the gun a little bit too much, he didn't seem to be lusting over you. Unless it was something more innocent. You had heard that some pastors tried their best to remain celibate until marriage or something like that but you didn't think he would be one to follow that path.

A handsome young man like him? Surely not, he must have droves of people after him and yet here he was acting all bashful in front of you. Maybe he didn't call you here to have a spicy church fling but instead to just see you, to feed into his... crush.

"Alright then, sorry for assuming. So what do you want to talk about." A wave of heat seemed to wash over you as you walked over and sat next to him, making sure to stay a respectful distance away. He seemed to have calmed down a little.

"Your parents came in here earlier today and expressed their worry about you not attending with them, they said you were busy lately. Are you working? Studying?" He looked over to you as the worry on his face seemed to melt away. His face looked soft, barely blemished aside from a few old blotches.

"No nothing like that... I guess I'd just rather worship in my own way. Alone." You slid a little closer to him, just barely letting your leg brush up against his own. You watched as his eyes darted down to your pants, his gaze set intently on you.

"For me, it's all about... intimacy." You whispered, letting your voice echo slightly around the room. His fingers twitched at his side.

"You know... I think there's something you're not telling me." Slowly you let your hand drag over his leg until you let it rest on his upper thigh. His still body seemed to give you the answer you wanted. So he did have a crush on you.

"There's..." He seemed to trail off as your fingers flexed on his leg. His hands seemed to shake a little as he quickly grabbed your hand, holding it to his skin tightly.

"This isn't... we shouldn't, not here." His voice was breathy as he looked up at you, his eyes glossy. Had he even been touched before?

"But you're the one who invited me here no?" You questioned, letting your nails dig into his pants. He swallowed, blearily looking away from you as he released a shudder. His breathing came out stuttered as he tried to come to his own conclusion.

"I..." You shook your head and dragged your hand upwards until it was cupping his hard cock. He jolted at the touch, bucking up into you erratically for a moment before you pushed his hips back and cooed at him.

"Do you want this?" He nodded shyly, his eyes refusing to meet your gaze. Gently you pulled his head to the side and looked at him.

"Say it again." You coaxed the words from him, made him admit that he wanted to be jerked off in the 'house of god'. A smirk rose to your lips, that warm feeling inside your chest seemed to grow even more.

"How scandalous? To want to be defiled right before god's eyes." Your voice dipped low, you were enjoying this as well. Getting to see him beg you with his eyes as he tried to push away the sinful delight of such an act to the back of his mind.

You pulled him over to you, easily lifting his pilant body onto your lap as you looked deeply into his eyes. He gasped as his dick rubbed against his pants for a brief moment.

"Why don't you show your god just how sinful you are?" You smiled a devilish grin as he groaned.

"I've never... done this before." He admitted, the tips of his ears red.

"It's easy baby, all you do is rock your hips back and forth. Make yourself feel good for me, getting to see you all flustered like this is insanely hot." He seemed to relax a little, heeding your words. Slowly he began moving back and forth on your thigh. A small gasp left him as he felt the first brush of stimulus on his aching dick.

Gently you rested your hands on his hips and helped him along, letting him set the pace as you enabled him to move up and down the length of your thigh. His own hands latched onto your shoulders as his head dropped down, his hair covering his eyes from your view. His moans echoed through the hall as if it were the angel's song itself.

"How does it feel?" You whispered, letting your lips rest over his forehead as you gave him an encouraging kiss. He sighed into you, his hips stuttering for a small moment as a strangled gasp left him.

"You know, if you keep going so slow you're just going to edge yourself." You couldn't help but laugh a little as you stroked over his pants, there seemed to be a small wet spot forming. From just this small amount of pleasure he was leaking like a cheap whore. He was more than receptive to your touching, his breathing picked up anytime you let your hand graze over him.

You flexed your leg and his head popped up, his eyes wide and shiny as his hips juttered back and forth. A knowing grin settled on your face as you pulled him closer and closer, letting his cock nestle up against your own. A groan of satisfaction left you as you bucked up into him, allowing yourself to feel his cock. His eyes screwed shut as small whimpers left his mouth.

"Want me to make you cum?" You drawled out, your own voice thick with arousal as you ground yourself into him. He nodded his head as you tutted, your finger going up to stroke over his plush lips.

"You have to say it pretty boy, tell me you want me to make you feel good." Your eyes were set intently on him as you watched his expression contort with pleasure. His eyes slid open, glossy with tears that refused to fall.

"Please..." He was quiet, a shyness to his voice that you recognised well from before.

"I can't do all the work, come on now. Tell me you want me to make you cum." His hands tightened on your shoulders, his nails digging into the cotton of your shirt as his head went to rest against your own. His breaths were unsteady as he fought with himself, fought to push the delightful shame of admitting what he wanted down.

"Please make me cum." Finally, he managed to say as his hips rocked back and forth against your thigh. A hum left your mouth as you placed kisses across his cheeks.

"What was that baby boy?" A long drawn out whine left him as he pouted at you, his face so close it almost felt as if the two of you were melded together.

"Make me cum please, only you can make me feel this good, no one else, nothing else, please let me cum, let me show you how good I feel. How good you make me feel." His moans were wanton as he rutted against you with reckless abandon, drawing closer and closer with every thrust. You smirked at him, your hands digging into his skin as you met his hips with the same intensity.

His mouth dropped open as he came, his breathing stuttered as you continued to shift him on your leg as you chased your own orgasm. Soon after he had come down from his high his hands sporadically tightened and loosened as you dragged him into overstimulation until you felt yourself release as well.

Lazily you let him rest on your chest as you caught your breath, letting his own rhythmic heartbeats pull you back down from the stars. Slowly your hand massaged his own, drawing random patterns into his skin.

"I can't believe I just did that." His laugh came out breathy as he cuddled closer to you, letting his arms wrap around your neck as he relaxed in your hold.

"How about next time you come over to mine?" You pulled his head back up and pressed a kiss to his lips, revelling in the soft feel of his skin against your own.

"You don't even need to write up an excuse to come see me." You goaded, looking teasingly at him. He pulled back from your kiss, an incredulous look on his face as he playfully slapped your shoulder.

#dom reader #sub male #ask #love for anon #drabble #gn reader

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Note

hellooo i have read your Han fic and it's so gooooooood you really know how to portray the one and only Han Jisung omgggg. can i ask for a seventeen smut? if it's okay with you. since I'm into Jeonghan these days i really want to know how will Jeonghan react if you two arw bffs since high school then one day things changed, both of you began being so touchy and flirty then he challenges you if you can resist him omgggg like he is so cocky and confident aaaaaah BYE-

aweee thank you so much! I love love love writing for the one and only Han Jisung!! thank you so much for your patience as well anon I’m soooo sorry that this took me an age to get out, but I hope that ya like the product hehe 💕

yjh was here | reader x jeonghan |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x yoon jeonghan

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: friends to lovers, bit of a comfort fic, bestfriend!jeonghan, cockyandflirty!jeonghan as we love him, lowkey mutual pining, mingyu, wonwoo, soonyoung side characters, coworkers au, mentions of food and mild food dares, mentions of alcohol+getting drunk, mentions of divorce (past), marking, reach-around teasing (r receiving), fluffy unprotected sex, body praising, spicy truth or dare, cuddles

Word count: 4.4k

Yoon Jeonghan had a habit. It wasn’t the worst of habits, but it was the kind that would clutter up your life. Often, you would wonder why he would do it, and why he hadn’t stopped: not even after you had mentioned it so many times.

It had started in high school. High school, that eternity away now. Luckily, your past was riddled with memories of him, and all of the little things that you had shared together; lunches, late nights studying, throwing littler paper wads at eachother from across the room. He would pull at the tie around your neck that was a part of the school uniform just to get a rise out of you. Jeonghan would nap during class, and you would be the one to wake him up with the flick of your finger. On cold walks to school, he would lend you his scarf, and on hot summer nights you’d stay out searching for snacks until sleep drew your eyes down, and he’d let you lean on him the whole walk home.

yjh was here

He wrote it on the first exam you had ever failed in your whole life.

Conversely, he had gotten nearly a perfect score. He was annoyingly good at everything he did. That, or he was just really good at cheating his way through things. When you thought about it, it was likely the latter that was more accurate.

At first you thought it was a joke. It was as if he was taunting you for failing miserably at mathematics II. You were never good at math anyway.

The second time he wrote it was when you had fallen asleep in class. It wasn’t a common occurrence. He’d call you a baby for being scared to fall asleep during class for fear of being startled awake by the teacher. However, this was the week that had been the longest for you: the week that everything fell apart.

Even into your mid twenties, your mother still would never tell you why your father had left that week and you never saw it fit to prod more.

He had written it on a scrap piece of paper after getting you a strawberry milk and leaving it for you on your desk.

yjh was here

Since then, he had taken the opportunity to write it everywhere he could manage. Suddenly his little scribbles filled up the margins of your notebooks; on post-it notes--he’d even etch it onto the skin on your arm in soft blue pen ink. Later, when the two of you had gone on to college, he would sneak into your dorm to write it everywhere he could find. No matter how many times you would erase it from your little whiteboard by your desk, he’d always manage to write it over, noticing immediately that it was gone.

Today, you had noticed that he had slipped it into your legal folder, among other more boring and business-y things and you had no idea how it had gotten there. It must have been sometime the day before, as he had written it on a napkin from the catering company.

yjh was here.

In all the many years that he had followed you from place to place, you must have amassed hundreds of his little notes. You kept the ones that he would give you at work tucked away in a desk, often forgetting that they were kept there until you would stumble upon them, tugging a little smile at your face. The rest of them you kept at home in a little box in your closet, even deeper away, never really knowing why. The act of simply having them was satisfaction enough, in fact, you never really minded a little clutter.

☆彡

With eyes drooping, you scratched away on your yellow note pad, writing a string of nonsense words that sounded important from the presentation. The red setting setting sun reminded you that it was your least favorite time of day: the time where the last work hour of the day would appear to stretch into twenty. Under the table your scratchy cotton work-pants felt even more scratchy than usual. Somewhere above you, the penetrating white fluorescents buzzed like flies.

With a little tap on your shoulder, Yoon Jeonghan was sitting next to you as he always was. Compared to him, you felt as if you looked like an utter mess. Just as he was annoyingly good at everything, there was never a day that he came into work looking less than perfection. Today it was a tweed two piece with a pressed shirt underneath as well as a navy tie adorning his beautifully slender neck. Around his face befell his deeply dark strands of hair which pricked the edges of his rounded wire glasses.

“This is so boring.” He had mouthed to you, adding a pout to the end of his sentence.

You formed the sound on your lips, “Shhhhh”

“I’m just saying!”

“Pay attention.”

You turned your head back to pretend to care about what your boss had to say. Every fifteen seconds or so you would nod your head to make it appear as if you were diffusing the information he was giving out.

Another tap on your shoulder and Jeonghan displayed his pen to you to draw your attention to the margin of your quarterly report print out.

you look really beautiful today, he had written

“Stop it!” You accidentally hissed, garnering the attention of your nosy and equally bored coworker sitting across from you.

This time you mouthed out the words, “No I don’t.”

“~yessss~” Jeonghan curled out his words with his tiny creeping smile

Your knee bumped into his under the ginormous desk.

“Pay attention, ‘Han.”

“Is there something you would like to add L/n?” Your supervisor’s voice cracked in the silence of the room.

“N-no sir.” your head bowed in repentance.

He elder man tsked in a little sound with his teeth. “I know that we’re getting to the end of the day folks, but let’s just get through this all so we can get home...”

Jeonghan’s tweed pants made a little screeching sound against the fabric of yours when you bumped him again under the guise of the desk.

“Screw you.”

Your friend met your remark with a wink, biting the cap of his pen while his eyes wandered down to show you another little message:

yjh was here

and I’m excited for tonight

☆彡

Wednesdays were customary somaek nights where each of you and your coworkers would gather in your cruelly tiny apartment with their own separate dishes for all to share and forget about the troubles of the midweek. As the year was winding down, it was these nights that would get you through the week. With the bodies of the five of you in your tiny living room cramped around your low-set table, you had almost forgotten that the heating in there barely worked.

With each of your coworkers entrance, they would bring in the smell of autumn with them, and the chill of the air outside. On each of their long coats, bits of leaves would cling to the edges of the fabric. Each Wednesday there would be a royal mess to clean up after, but it was Jeonghan who would often stay after to help you. The two of you would end up in your cruelly tiny kitchen, throwing soap bubbles at each other’s faces drunkenly with socks sliding all over the wooden floors. Jeonghan would write another note to stick on your refrigerator, then he would take you by the hands to twirl you around to some unbearably cheesy sounding OST.

Perhaps it was the way that your head would get fuzzy from the soju and beer, but you loved the way that he would twirl you; it was almost like a waking dream.

“Nobody worry! Nobody! Worry!” Soonyoung burst through your door, case of beer in hand. “I’m not late, I’m actually early! Don’t you know that it’s trendy to appear an hour into the party?” When Soonyoung spoke, he had a habit of speaking with his whole chest.

“Took you long enough,” Mingyu whined, popping in another strip of galbi.

“You don’t enjoy our presence, ‘Gyu?” Wonwoo’s mouth upturned into a teasing grin.

“N-no,” The biggest man babbled, “It’s just that...Wednesdays are somaek evenings.”

“--Then I am here to help you out my friend.” Soonyoung plopped himself right down on the floor with the poof of his blond hair popping from his beanie. “Ahhhh this all looks so delicious.”

“You better pay me back.” You griped while serving him a plate of the assortment.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love you, Y/n?”

“Nearly every time I do something for you? You still owe me from the last time we went to karaoke.

“--And for covering for your ass last week...some hangover that was, huh?” Jeonghan scooched over his leftover rice to you.

Soonyoung scoffed while twirling his bottle of soju in the air, the admiring the little tornado swirling inside. “-Was worth it though. We always have fun don’t we?” In his affection, he threw his arms around you and Wonwoo beside him.

“-Food’s gonna get cold.” Wonwoo poked his finger in the general direction.

With his full glass raised in the air after a minute of preparation, Soonyoung lead you all in a toast, cheeks already rosy. The second that your glasses collided, liquid came downpouring to the table, but none of you seemed to mind. Before you could bring your drink to your lips, you caught yourself having a moments pause, watching all of your friends before you. If you could have, you wished you could fold up little moments like these as well to put in your drawer to see when you would feel down.

Jeonghan caught your wistful sigh, sending you a wink. In many ways, you knew he must have known your thoughts.

Under the table, his hand brushed up to your crossed knee, letting his hand linger. He let his hand rest there for a moment, as if he was soaking up your essence in the moment. He had never done it before, but his thumb gently rubbed at your knee, and it felt like a waking dream.

☆彡

The night had ticked on, and you and grown more tired than you had expected by pass of the clock hand. As the night would normally progress, drinks would be had, then each of you would take turns updating the others on what you had been doing or working on. All of you would gather advice or support if needed. There had even been times when you would even provide a shoulder for one to cry on, although that didn’t happen most times.

Others, like today, the five of you would simply sit and enjoy each other’s presence with the window slightly cracked open to let the autumnal air cool your burning bodies. Jokes would be cracked every once and a while until yawns would escape your mouths. By then, another joke would be made about how you were all getting to old to be staying up that late.

Jeonghan played with your hair as you had leaned into him, swirling your final glass of soju in your wrist. While you were hot yourself, the heat from his body was still calming, and the way that his chest would rise and fall was a bit like a lullaby.

“I’m falling asleep, we should head out,” Mingyu clapped Wonwoo by the back.

“Another one for the books.” Soonyoung sighed, then rose up with a stretch of his arms, wrinkling up his white button up and loose tie.

“Sweet dreams everyone.” You shift off of your best friend, shuddering a little at the lack of contact, to close the door after them.

“I’m looking forward to next Wednesday!” Soonyoung beams with a little salute, then bows before shuffling away.

“What time is it?” You yawn out the words, rubbing your eyes.

“Too late. We still need to go in tomorrow, remember?”

Dirty dishes clink in your hands as you bring them to your sink. “We really should start doing this on Fridays.”

“I don’t wanna start cleaning just yet, can we stay here for a while?” Jeonghan spreads his arms out, beckoning you to fall back into him. You laugh a little at the motion.

“Why so touchy? We haven’t done this in so many years...I can’t remember the last time...”

You oblige him, nuzzling right up to his chest once more. He smells a bit of the somaek, but mostly of his usual scent: that cheap cologne that you had bought him about a year ago. You had mostly gotten it as a gag gift, but he had worn it every day since.

“Must have been in high school.” His words are long and breathy.

“How come we stopped?”

Jeonghan takes a minute to answer you, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Instead, he raises a hand to rub at your arm lightly, just as he had done with your knee.

“Dunno. We got older?”

“What does getting older have to do with it?”

You watch in the silence as his thumb continues to rub over the fabric of your long-sleeved button down.

“--Do you want to play a game?” Jeonghan says at last.

“A game? What do you mean?”

“For fun. I’m trying to find something to do so we don’t have to do the dishes.”

“Okay,” You perk up slightly, still not removing yourself from his encircled arms. “What kind of game?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Psh what are we, back in high school?”

“Seeing what we are doing right now, wouldn’t you say so?” The words escape Jeonghan’s mouth with a growing grin.

You ruffled to top of his head, messing up his perfectly primped hair. “...Fineeee. You going first or me?”

“I’ll go. Truth.” Jeonghan pulled you back into him, settling your back flush with his chest.

“Okay, truth: did you really mean it when you said that you liked Minji’s power suit? I know you thought it looked tacky.”

Jeonghan’s breathy laugh miffed up your hair. “I’ll say anything if it keeps me in the supervisor’s good graces.”

“HA. I knew it.”

“Which do you pick?”

“Mmmm-truth.”

“Not dare? You’re no fun.”

“I said truth!!!”

“Fine, fine.” His slender arms squeezed at your body to situate you better in between his legs. “When was the last time that you brought someone over to your place?”

“Yo-you mean like “brought someone” over?”

“You know what I mean.” In his voice you could nearly see his mischievous smile.

“I’ve told you about all of them so I don’t know why you’re asking. It’s been about a year.”

“A year? Really?”

“--Nope! You don’t get to ask any more questions. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Jeonghan said without a moment’s hesitation.

Your eyes wandered the room for his perfect punishment. “Ah! Take that soy sauce, the one with the wasabi bits in it...and drink it.”

Your friend sighed, but took the tiny cup in his fingers to down it all in one shot. He shivered a little and you could feel his face scrunch up, but he held his reactions back best he could.

“That was such a high school dare. You really haven’t changed.”

“I thought it was funny.”

“Truth or dare Y/n.”

“Truth.”

“Ughhh truth again?”

“ ‘Hannnn--”

“Just say dare! I promise that I’ll go easy on you.”

“Fine then. Dare.”

“I dare you...to take your shirt off.”

“What?!” Your head snapped back to send him your deathly glare. “Are you being serious right now?”

“What? It’s nothing that I haven’t seen? Are you forgetting that we’ve been friends for nearly our whole lives? That and college you were someone who would go to parties and take your shirt off. Remember that?”

“...yes.” You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Fine then.” In one motion, you pulled your shirt over your head, jumping a little once you felt Jeonghan’s hands help tear it off your arms. You hesitated to lay back, but his arms made a decision before you could, and pulled you back into his chest. Now, it was the skin of his fingers on your bare arms that you were painfully aware of.

“T-truth or dare?” You squeaked out.

“Truth.”

“No fair, you made me do dare!”

“I already did a dare. Truth.”

From the other side of your room, your refrigerator clacked with the sound of ice cubes falling into their tray. On the door, dozens of multi-colored post-it-notes had been suck there with clear tape.

“...Why is it that you’re always writing me those notes? “yjh was here?”“

“Hmm.” He breathed out. “I had a feeling that you might ask me that one.”

“...And?”

“--Because I like to. And...”

Your anticipation hung tangibly in the air. You didn’t quite know it, but you had been waiting for his answer for so many years, you had lost count.

“...And I like seeing them around you. -Reminds me that I’m a part of your life. Kind of like how we exist together. They’re little reminders for you as well...to know that I’m around for you.”

“Jeonghan...” You wouldn’t have expected it, but tears singed the corners of your eyes.

“Truth or dare?” He cooed into your ear.

“D-dare.” Your voice shook, realizations flooding you like rain.

“I dare you to take off your pants. Can you do that?” His voice had dropped, low and gravely.

You nodded your answer, and took to unbuttoning your pants, shimmying them off where you sat on the floor. As soon as your bare legs were exposed, he had found a new place to rest his hands; you never would have guessed for them to be so beautiful-looking there.

“I choose dare.” He breathed onto your bare neck.

“I-I dare you take off our shirt too.” Your face felt furiously warm as you uttered the words and he did exactly as he was told. The sensation of your skin on his skin then sent your head spinning with just how close you had been in that moment, closer than ever before.

Jeonghan’s hands explored your bare legs with a touch as soft as butterfly wings. His light touches sent an aching pain to your sex as it had never felt so needy and neglected.

“Truth or dare my love?”

In an attempt to hide your frustration, you could only form the word, “T-truth?”

“Hmm...truth...” Jeonghan began to kneed into your legs, digging his nails in every so slightly. “Have you ever kept secrets from me?”

“Secrets? Why-why would I, I don’t-mmph-have any secrets to keep from you.”

“I think that’s a lie Y/n.”

Indeed it was a lie. You had kept secrets from him. Two secrets to be exact; one of them being near the precipice for the whole universe to see.

“I’ve kept secrets from you, you know.”

“What?”

“Do you dare me to show you?”

Your anxious breath caught in your lungs, full of confusion but even more excitement. Jeonghan’s hands crept slowly up to your hips.

He repeated, “Do you?”

“Ye-yes. I dare you to show me.” Your eyes had closed feeling his hands draw even farther up your body.

Your best friend surveyed your whole chest with his hands, swirling around as much skin as he could touch. He was careful not to tickle you, but rather give every ounce of your being his careful attention. For a moment, his fingers grazed over your nipples, but went to cradle your neck in his hands. He turned it to the side to expose the beating vein there, and placed the slowest and most tender kiss upon it. From the feeling of his fleeting lips, you whimpered at the sensation.

“Dare.” You managed with a dry mouth. “I dare you to touch me...anywhere you want...please...”

Jeonghan chuckled slightly into your neck. “I just had my turn, but...I’m listening.”

Your entire body keened under his fingertips, writhing messily between his legs. This time, he was careful in touching you nearly everywhere: your chest, your nipples--pinching them slightly--and down your legs, to your inner thighs where he traced up to your underwear, now wetting a little with your arousal.

“Tell me the truth.” He bit into your skin. “Am I one of your secrets?”

Your answer was given to him in the form of you forcefully tearing from his grip to push his legs together so that you could straddle them. The way that his shoulder blades flexed under your firm grip was dizzying. Your eyes fell to his lips: your secret.

“I dare you to kiss me,” You breathed onto them.

“I thought that you’d never ask.”

Jeonghan was smiling as he pulled your lips into his, and he never quite seemed to stop. Every bit of your love for him spilled into his mouth where you found the comfort from him that you had craved for years. You had felt first kisses before, but nothing was quite like this one. With Jeonghan who you had known for so long, you were thrilled to get to know him in this new and different way, and you wanted to absorb every little bit of it: the way he would caress the sides of your face so gently, or the way that he would angle your neck to meet his lips. You would never have guessed to feel so complete with him like this, but it also made all the sense in the world. It was you that he wanted, and you that he wanted to stay next to through all those years. He had never let you go, and you had never let him either.

In between kisses, you found both of yourselves giggling hysterically.

“Are we really doing this right now? Are we...?” You bit a laugh into his lip.

“Yes. I think that we are.” He engulfed you in his grasp. “I’ve wanted to do this for years, Y/n.

Jeonghan scooped you up, moving both of your bodies to the couch where he clinked with his belt buckle to remove his pants. “You really do look beautiful. Everyday. I’m not just saying that.”

You practically clawed at him to lay his body on top of yours, then wrapped your legs around his waist to align him with your own. In your unadulterated intoxication of him, you hopelessly grinded up into him, seeking some kind of stimulation from the mashing of fabric together. After a little scoff, Jeonghan’s hand cascaded down your body to rub at your throbbing sex, marveling in the way that you had soaked though your underwear just a little.

“Wow. This is how you feel about me?”

“Do you want me to say sorry?”

“No--it’s just...I wish that I had known sooner.”

Your lust brought his lips back to yours as you kissed him over and over and over, trying to make up for all of the times that you wished you had done before. His touch on your sensitive skin sent you mewling onto his tongue.

“Can I make you mine now?”

As for your response, your widened legs told him exactly what he needed to know.

In one swift motion, he had tugged off his own briefs, letting free his deliciously hard cock, sparkling at the head with his pre-cum. Looking at him like this, all for you, was like a walking dream.

Jeonghan gathered spit from his tongue to glide over his dick, then teased your impatient entrance while he watched your face contort into the most beautiful shapes he thought he had ever seen. He entered you slowly, letting each of you take in the moment as if you could forget it the next. Once you were together, his brows twitched a little as his closed eyes focused only on you. He filled you up perfectly, as if you were made for him--which you had convinced yourself that you were. Jeonghan buried his face in your neck to suck into the skin, marking you as his.

Your orgasm built much quicker than you had intended, and soon you were begging him to make you cum--which he gladly did. Your heels dug into his back upon your release which gathered more heat between your two bodies. Jeonghan didn’t skip a beat as he chased his own orgasm, fucking you into your own overstimulation and leaving you to melt under him.

“Jeong-han.” You gasped out his name through your teeth as your body quaked from the snap of his hips.

“oh god,” He uttered, tangling his fingers deep into your hair, then smashing his lips back into yours. “you’re so good for me my love...so good...”

Jeonghan let out little grunts as he came and filled you deeply with the warmth from his cum. As he throbbed within you, you knew it really was him you were made for. He lingered inside your walls as your bodies shook together with the aroma of sex fogging the air. After a while, it didn’t take long for both of you to be laughing contentedly into each other’s mouths once more.

Your best friend reached for your hand to bind all of your fingers to his. "No more secrets.”

☆彡

“Do you want the sweatpants from the top shelf or the rack?” Jeonghan called to you through your cruelly tiny apartment. “Wait...i-is this...?”

Once he had returned, in his hand he held the aged strawberry milk carton with the little cartoon fruit on the side and the scrap piece of paper wrapped around it. In the other was your little box of notes.

yjh was here

“I can’t believe that you’ve kept it this long. Why--”

“--I’ll tell you why...it’s my second secret.”

Your best friend cocked his head. “...Second?”

“Ever since that day, I’ve known, Yoon Jeonghan. I love you.”

☆彡

if you’ve got to this point, hehe hello I’m Ro, I write for skz and svt, and I’d love to write some more svt! If you’d like, you can send me your asks

#bestfriendhannie I didn’t know I needed sooo bad #this one actually made me v v soft 🥺#binniesthighs 💌#asks #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles

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pilothusband · 3 years

Text

A lit torch to the woodpile high (part 3)

A Paz VIzsla Bartender!AU

Rating: M (this one gets spicy folks)

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol (they work in a bar), pining, death/grief mention, masturbation, fantasies of p in v sex, Paz puts himself in horny jail, light smut

Word count: 3.1k

Description: This one is purely self-indulgent. You decide to up the ante and make Paz’s life (and other parts of him) hard. Harlow is a lil shit, but we love for for it.

Author’s note: I’m still not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I’ve been working on it for far too long. Lightly edited, unbeta’d. Please go here to be added to the taglist! This one goes out to my pal May. Missing you on my dash. Hope you see this update and enjoy it 🥰

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

He couldn’t get you out of his head. It was maddening.

It had been a long time since anyone had stirred these kinds of feelings up for him, and he doesn’t recall it ever hitting him like a freight train.

He used to think of life in two absolutes: Before he lost everything and After, when he had to pick up the pieces. Now he was starting to think there was more to it, that those absolutes were just parts of him.

If only he wasn’t such a miserable bastard. You were the light in a dark sky. Not just for him, for everyone. He saw the delighted smile that was plastered on Rick’s face after you walked in every day and asked him how his grandchildren were doing, if his wife’s knee was feeling any better.

Paz noticed the change in Harlow’s demeanor now that she had a friend who could build her up when she talked about her dreams. Hell, Madge snuck you food every chance she got, and she only ever did that for him.

He found himself lying awake in bed tonight, as usual, trying to calm the stream of thought that entered his head. Before you, he only could ever think about the ghosts of his past. People he had loved and lost.

But now? Now as he closed his eyes, he saw your eyes, sparkling with delight. Your lips, in a pout, then stretched over a brilliant smile.

The delicate curve of your neck and shoulder. Your ass. He groaned out loud. God, your ass was out of this world. The way it moved when you bent over to grab a dish towel from the bottom shelf. He always had to look away before his thoughts got away from him, or else his mind would wander and he would imagine snaking his arms over yours and caging you to the bar, rolling his hips into yours. You would wiggle your ass against him and throw your head back to see his reaction.

Fuck. Now he was hard. Every time this happened, he would either watch some porn or force himself to think of a woman he didn’t know, someone who he dreamed up in his head.

But no faceless stranger or actress could quite do it for him like you would. He could feel his self control crumbling as he reached into his boxer briefs and fisted his aching cock, taking it out and letting it sit heavy against his stomach, straining with need.

He ran a finger up the underside, imagining it was you teasing him, getting acquainted with how hot and hard he was for you. He let himself picture you, naked and in between his legs, stroking him gently, watching him come apart underneath you. Ideally, he’d flip you over and dive face first into your cunt, lapping wide stripes at your slick folds with his tongue, then sucking your clit into his mouth. He would wait until you’re mewling under him, then he’d plunge a finger into you, stretching you around his finger and adding another. He’d wait until you came in his mouth at least twice before he fucked you. He’d have you begging for his cock, so slick with need it dripped down your thighs.

In this part of the fantasy, you’re so feral for him, your eyes bright and wide looking up at him with hunger, that he acquiesces, and you climb onto his lap and bounce up and down on his cock.

He was stroking himself faster now, feeling so close to the edge. He grit his teeth, growling your name as he came all over his fist, spurts reaching up his stomach, almost all the way to his chest.

As soon as he came to his senses, he sighed, feeling disgusted with himself.

There was a moment in the bed of his truck that night, where you had stared at him, your gaze flickering down to his mouth as you licked your bottom lip. It was just a small flash of your tongue– but it gave him hope for a moment. He had hope that someone as beautiful and kind as you could see through the darkness within him, see the guy he used to be before he lost everything.

But that part of Paz died, along with the family he cared so deeply for. The remaining ones scattered to the wind, unable to carry on pretending like everything hadn’t changed.

He sighed deeply, getting up to wash the shame off himself. At least he’d sleep soundly tonight and dream of a reality where he could hold you in his arms.

Paz seemed to be in higher spirits lately, following your chat in his office. It wasn’t like he skipped into the room and had birds fluttering around his head, like a Disney princess, but he didn’t snap at anyone who made eye contact with him, so it was a noticeable difference.

That was the hot topic conversation of the day, especially for Harlow. She couldn’t get over the 360 change that seemingly happened overnight.

“So, did you doink the grumpy out of him or what?” Harlow asked. She was leaning over the bar, looking at you expectantly with her hands under her chin.

“Of course not!” You said, a little too loudly. “There has not, and will not be any doinking, ever.”

“This sounds like work appropriate conversation,” a deep voice drawled.

You both spun around, not expecting to see him standing in the doorway, his eyebrow arched. He was clearly unimpressed.

“I’m going to go clean the bathrooms,” Harlow said, dashing out back. Fucking traitor.

You prayed to the almighty maker that the floor would open up and swallow you whole, but there was no such luck in store for you today.

“Hey Paz,” you said, trying to sound casual, as if Harlow hadn’t been talking about your non-existent sex life.

“Hey you,” he said, mimicking your tone. “I actually came out here to ask you if you could swap a shift with Harlow next Friday. I fucked up and scheduled her on a day she requested off. You’d get Sunday off in return.”

“Sure,” you agreed, nodding. “I don’t have any plans.”

“You don’t have any plans to ‘doink’ anyone that night?” He teased.

You could feel your face heating up in embarrassment.

“Not unless you know any willing volunteers.”

Paz barked out a laugh.

“I might know a guy,” he said, a smirk etched on his handsome face.

You both cursed and thanked the powers above that a customer decided to walk in right at that moment. Of course it was Bob. He usually was the first to come in and one of the last to leave.

Not wanting to lose whatever contest was going on (real or perceived), you gave Paz a coy smile and leaned over the bar to take Bob’s order, making sure you poked your ass out further than necessary.

You couldn’t see Paz’s reaction, but when he exited without so much of a goodbye, you gave yourself an internal fist pump.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to (potentially) break a dress code at work, but in your defense it was hotter than the surface of the sun, and internal temperature of the bar only seemed to get higher as the night went on.

Also, maybe it would be an added bonus if you got to torture a giant, brooding bartender in the process.

You felt pretty proud of your decision to wear your thinnest bralette, squeeze into your smallest pair of shorts, paired with a t-shirt that was just a little too small.

Of course your car decided to stall 3 times on the way to work, and your AC was busted so you walked in 15 minutes late, already feeling like a frizzy, sweaty mess. Your entrance wasn’t as grand as you were hoping, feeling like your half-assed attempt at makeup had already melted off your face, and the black v-neck you wore was clinging to you in all the wrong places, mainly your sweaty back and right under your bra.

In your rush to clock in before the 20-minute mark, you crashed right into Paz, almost falling and landing on your ass. Paz, of course, barely moved a centimeter. His hand shot out, grabbing you by the shoulder to hold you steady.

“Woah there, small fry, be careful,” he murmured. His hand was large and warm. You had to take a deep breath to get a hold of yourself.

“Paz, I’m so sorry I’m late. My fucking car stalled out on the way and–” you started babbling, pushing your sweaty mane back, praying he couldn’t see the sweat stains on your shirt.

“It’s okay, shit happens. You need someone to look at your car? I know a guy.” He was leaning forwards to get a better look at you, looking concerned. You had trouble controlling how fast your heart was beating and your lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough air. It was plain bizarre, the affect this man had on you with a simple gesture.

I know a guy. Your cheeks felt warm remembering the last time he uttered that sentence.

You had expected him to get angry with you for being late. Hell, you remember the gruff tone he gave you on your first day when he said to show up on time.

“I- I um,” you were having a hard time coming up with words, too distracted by the sensation of Paz’s thumb rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder, brushing against your collar bone. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps rise on your flesh and your nipples instantly pebbled. You stole a quick glance down to make sure it wasn’t obvious. Shit, it totally was.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he replied. Had his voice dropped a few octaves or were you just imagining it? He removed his hand from your shoulder, much to your chagrin, and backed up a little, giving you a once-over.

“Go ahead and clock in and give yourself a couple minutes to get settled. It should be slow today,” he gave you a soft smile.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, giving him a shy smile in return.

It was about 3 hours into your 8 hour shift and it was dead. There wasn’t a single customer in sight. It wasn’t that surprising, given it was a Tuesday, but God were you bored. It was just you and Paz tonight, with Paz sending Madge home (with pay) and no one else being scheduled.

You didn’t really mind, though, figuring it was a good time to get to know Paz better. He was wiping the already clean bar down for the fifth time that night, really driving the bartender stereotype home.

“You’re going to start wearing the varnish down at this rate,” you laughed, gesturing at the rag in his hand.

He looked down, shaking his head in a playfully exasperated way and let out an embarrassed huff of laughter.

“Alright, how do you suggest we pass the time?”

“How about 20 questions?”

Paz immediately groaned in protest.

“Oh shut up, you big baby, I’ll answer first. Go ahead,” you cocked your chin at him. “Got any questions you’re dying to ask me?”

“Why did you apply for a job here?”

Your first instinct was to deflect, but you did suggest this game, and figured you just had to bite the bullet and answer honestly.

“To be honest, I still haven’t figured out what I want to do,” you explained. “I know, kind of pathetic for someone my age. I took a bartending class at the local adult learning center, got a certificate and just kind of walked in here and asked for an application on a whim.”

Paz could sense your discomfort, how you were ashamed that you hadn’t found your way yet. It was something he could identify with, in a way.

“That’s not pathetic at all,” he said, crossing his arms. “Plenty of people don’t know what they want to do at your age.”

You shrugged, not wanting to continue the subject.

“Boxers or briefs?”

Paz arched an eyebrow, his ever-present sign of judgement coming through.

“That’s what you’re dying to ask me?”

“No, but I figured I’d warm you up first,” you said, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Boxer briefs. Favorite color?”

“Blue. Where did you grow up?”

Paz’s casual expression faltered at the question.

“Far away. I’d rather not get into it today, if you don’t mind.” The easy smile vanished from your face, replacing it with a nod of understanding.

“That’s totally fine, Paz. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you sat down at a table, and gestured at the chair across from you, signaling him to sit down. You wanted him to feel at ease around you.

“You and your apologies,” Paz said, a look of fond disbelief on his face. “You have nothing to apologize for, mesh’la.”

A beat of silence passed, waiting for Paz to think of a question. You wanted to ask him what that word he had called you meant, but you had a feeling he would dodge the question.

“Who were you and Harlow talking about yesterday?” Paz rested his chin in his hand, giving you a shit-eating grin. He must have known the answer already, given the smug look on his face.

You felt the color drain out of your face.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” You countered. In the back of your mind, you thought you probably shouldn’t have talked back to your boss, but his smile didn’t waver. In fact, it only got wider.

“That doesn’t answer my question, sweetheart,” he drawled, stretching his legs and crossing one over the other.

“Harlow,” you thought of a way to word this without incriminating yourself or your friend. But screw it, she had opened her big mouth in the first place. “Harlow thinks there’s something going on between you and me.”

You briefly wondered if his facial muscles were used to this kind of workout, with the grin that refused to let up.

“And your answer was basically, ‘ew no’, ouch,” he chuckled.

“It’s not like– ugh. Fuck you.” You hid your face in your hands. He laughed harder. You had to do something to flip this around, gain back a little power over the situation.

Oh. An evil thought entered your brain. You removed your hands from your face and smirked. Paz was still grinning, but you saw a hint of fear in his eyes.

“Pray tell, what would you have preferred I said?”

Paz leaned back in his chair and regarded you for a moment. It seemed you had thrown him through a loop. You couldn’t help but feel pleased with yourself.

But then he leaned forward, placing both of his large hands on the table, a hungry look in his eyes.

“You can say whatever you want to Harlow,” he said, his voice even but significantly huskier than usual. “But I’d prefer it if you didn’t lie to yourself.”

It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest any second now. You weren’t sure if he was being serious and it was making your head spin.

A sound came from the kitchen, snapping you both out of the moment. You sprung apart, despite having a table between your bodies.

“Okay lovebirds, I’m heading home.” It was Madge, standing by the kitchen doors, snickering at your antics.

“Night, Madge,” Paz called.

You waved feebly and offered a weak “goodnight” at her retreating figure.

It had been too quiet since she had left. Paz seemed unwilling to continue the conversation, opting to brood silently. You muttered something about getting a head start on inventory and retreated into the dusty storage closet to pretend you were counting inventory. Though, you didn’t bring a pen and paper with you, so really you just went out back to stare at a bunch of kegs and liquor bottles, hoping they would miraculously answer all of the questions that were whirring through your brain.

You must have been staring at a bottle of Hennessy for at least a full 5 minutes when the door opened. Paz looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was mussed up, as if he had been running his fingers through it. His chest was heaving as if he had just sprinted a mile.

“Paz.” His name came out of your mouth like a prayer. You weren’t sure what you were asking of him, but you knew you needed him to act.

He stepped closer, slowly, as if he was afraid the floor would open up from under his feet.

“Tell me to stop.” Paz was just inches away now, caging you into the shelves behind you with his arms.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” You asked, tipping your chin up to look at him.

He growled and tangled his fingers in your hair, kissing you with fervor.

Despite the ferocity of his kiss, his lips were so soft, so pliant. You moaned and licked into his mouth needing to taste him. Paz moaned, pushing you into the shelves further.

“You drive me crazy,” he panted, pressing his forehead to yours. You responded by capturing his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him back to your mouth. You were rewarded with a low groan and a push of his hips.

He was hard. That knowledge sent you into a haze. You needed him closer. Your arms went around his shoulders, kneading and pulling him in. He broke the kiss and peppered smaller kisses on your jaw, then down your neck.

“You wear these tiny little shorts and tight shirt to torture me?” He asked, already knowing the answer. He nibbled at your collar bone, hitting a spot that had you throwing your head back against the shelves.

“Yes,” you chuckled breathlessly.

“Mmm, knew it,” he answered, running his hands down your back, down to your ass, giving it a generous squeeze that had you mewling.

“I’ve been hard all fucking day, seeing you waltz around in those shorts, with your nipples hard, begging to be sucked.”

He rubbed his thumb over one of your nipples, causing it to pebble. Paz swallowed your gasp with his mouth, giving you another searing kiss.

Reality came rearing its ugly head in the form of the front door opening. Paz huffed and pressed his forehead to yours, hands coming around your hips to help you off the shelf.

“Duty calls,” he sighed, reaching his hand down into his jeans to adjust himself. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Paz exited the closet, strolling out and greeting the customer as if nothing had just happened, while you stole a few moments to yourself to get your bearings.

It was going to be a long night.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @recklessworry @cannedsoupsucks @pocket-pudding @simping-for-clones @gallowsjoker @idiotonastar @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @devanthus @legally-a-bastard @my-awakened-ghost @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @sheresh0y @starlite41

#paz vizsla #paz vizsla au #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (6)

St. James Infirmary

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Relationships:

Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Characters:

Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe, Nathalie Sancoeur, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth

Additional Tags:

Temporary Character Death, Murder Mystery, off screen murder, Ghosts, Supernatural - Freeform, Haunting, Horror, Psychological Thriller, Eventual Happy Ending, I promise, Song fic, Halloween Flavored, Identity Reveal, Aged Up, Canon Universe, Mabel Voice: He's Resting, SPOOOKKKYYYYYY

Ao3 | FF.net

The night of the visitation, it rained. Like a kick to the gut, a painful reminder of what it was like to fall in love…now was only a soothing presence to losing love.

The old umbrella in her hand didn’t help either. It was his. Adrien’s. The very same he gave her that day over ten years ago.

Marinette had agonized over what to wear for too long. It was a wake, so black, right? She had this outfit picked out and everything. A sharp blazer over her little black cocktail dress, with black pumps. Even though it was a wake, it was a wake for her boss, one of the most influential fashion moguls in the world, and she would be taking his place. She had to look her best.

But then, she changed her mind. It was a social event, yes, and she would be in the public eye and representing the brand, true!

But it felt gross.

The cocktail dress was too sexy for a wake, and wearing that much black made her look goth.

It just wasn’t right.

Then she saw the dress. A rose pink, knee length dress that flared out as it went down. It had little black polka dots on it.

And it was Adrien’s favorite. He said so every time she wore it.

Too peppy for a wake. Too casual, too fun and flirty. But a black cardigan over it, and she felt perfect.

She could almost hear his voice as she posed in the mirror.

“I love that dress on you. You look so cute, Marinette.”

It made tears spring to her eyes.

So no makeup then. Because she knew she would be crying a lot more tonight.

“Don’t forget to pack tissues,” Tikki reminded, helpfully.

“Right, thank you, Tikki.” She tucked the little package in her purse.

With one last pass of the brush through her hair, she was ready.

So now she stood outside of the manor, the gate open.

Well folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary

See my little baby there

She's stretched out on a long, white table

Well she looks so good, so cold, so fair

The paparazzi stood nearby with their cameras, ready to swoop in like vultures.

She must have paused for too long, because they descended on her quickly, shoving mics in her face and asking questions.

Didn’t they know why she was here? Didn’t they know what she was going through?

An arm reached around her shoulders and started leading her forward. “Alright everyone, that’s enough! Can’t you see she’s not in the mood?” Her rescuer shouted.

The reporters didn’t pass through the gate, as that would have been trespassing. So thankfully, the crowd was left behind as they moved forward.

“Thank you,” she said to the unfamiliar man.

“Of course, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He nodded.

“You know me?”

“I know of you. Head intern to Gabriel Agreste himself, if I’m not mistaken. I’m from Harper’s Bazaar.”

“Oh...a reporter.”

“Yes, but I really was just here as a guest to pay my respects. I’ve interviewed both Gabriel and Adrien a few times.”

“I see.”

He led her into the house.

Let her go, let her go, God bless her,

Wherever she may be,

She will search this wide world over,

But she'll never find another sweet man like me.

She was early, as Nathalie had instructed. No other guests were here. Just funeral staff, some family, and two steel caskets.

Two steel closed caskets.

Might make retrieving Adrien’s ring a bit of a problem, but not seeing his face…cold, motionless, and waxy would keep her somewhat sane.

The man walked with her right up to the casket, the one with Adrien’s picture next to it.

“It’s a shame. That much skill, the absolute genius spread between the two of them. The world as a whole will never be the same.”

“Yeah.”

“Any idea what’s going to happen next? Not that this is an interview, I’m just curious.”

She shrugged, “well, I’ve been offered the position, and everyone wants me to take it...but it’s so…”

“Overwhelming?”

“Yes.” She rested her hand on the casket. “I wish I could have a moment alone with him.”

“Let me see what I can do.” He smiled, then he called louder, to the room. “The lady would like a few minutes alone, if possible.”

“Is she family?” A staff member asked.

“This is Madam Dupain-Cheng, she’s the successor to Gabriel’s empire. She’s practically family!”

There was no arguing with that, and the group of staff members filed out into the adjacent dining room.

“Thank you,” Marinette called to the man, still not getting his name.

“Don’t worry about it darling.” And he followed them out.

Marinette glanced around the room, just to make sure she was alone. “Tikki?”

“I’m here!”

“I need you to keep watch.” The casket had two doors, one on top that would have been open if this was a regular visitation, and one over the legs. She slid the flower arrangement on top over to the bottom section and ran her hand over the edge. She pulled up slightly, and as she feared, it was sealed.

“It’s locked,” she lamented.

“Let me try!” Tikki zipped around the casket, and a moment later, it clicked and the cap opened ever so slightly.

Marinette took a deep breath as her fingers curled under the lip.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Just…I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to see what he looks like. I don’t want to…” but she put her reservations on hold, and pushed the lid up.

She choked out a startled gasp. “Oh no…”

Now, when I die, bury me in my straight-leg britches,

Put on a box-back coat and a stetson hat,

Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain,

So you can let all the boys know I died standing pat.

Instead of the mangled body of her true love, there was only a pile of sandbags.

Tikki, also horrified, went over to Gabriel’s casket and phased inside. Then she popped out, “this one is the same!”

Marinette closed the lid and moved the flowers back into place, her mind moving at a mile a minute. Vaguely, she heard the click of the casket as Tikki put it to rights.

Marinette was panicking, but quickly calmed herself down. This didn’t mean anything malicious, not yet. Maybe they were cremated and the family wanted to keep it a secret. Or because there’s no graveside service, their bodies had already been buried.

Who was she kidding, something was definitely going on.

A mystery that was just aching to be solved, but her first priority was to retrieve Adrien’s ring.

“--A moment alone!” A voice shouted from the dining room.

Marinette whirled around in time to see Felix storming towards her. Did he know? Was she caught?

He brushed past her, “move.” And went directly to the casket, grabbing the lip like she had.

“Please sir! You’ll damage the casket!” One of the funeral home staff rushed and grasped Felix by the shoulder. “It’s shut and locked, it can’t be opened again.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye!” Felix snarled. “Look at him!” He pointed at the photo on display next to the casket. “He has my face! I deserve to see him one last time!”

“Sir...he doesn’t look like that anymore. It would be very disturbing to see his remains.”

Disturbing indeed, considering Adrien wasn’t in there at all.

Amelie was quick to join the group and she consoled her son. “We talked about this. You knew it was going to be a closed casket.”

“They said the family had time alone. I just...wanted to say goodbye, face to face.” He shook his head and scowled. “He deserved that, at least.”

Marinette made herself small, feeling like an intruder in this family crisis. But Amelie still saw her and brought her in for a hug.

“How are you holding up, dear?” She asked, pulling away slightly.

“I’m…I’ve been better.”

“Of course, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Marinette had met Amelie and Felix more than a few times working at Gabriel. As the years went on, they came to visit more and more often. Amelie was always insistent that she call her ‘Aunt Amelie’ like Adrien. It felt weird to break the habit now.

“Isn’t pink a little too festive for the occasion?” Felix bit. The red from anger in his cheeks had faded. Now he just sounded bitter.

It was Adrien’s voice…but not. It was a shame Felix sounded so much like him.

He looked just like him too, minus the slicked back hair and glasses.

“Adrien really loved this dress,” Marinette whispered. “I know it’s not—I just—“

His face softened slightly, relieved that she had Adrien in mind, and not fashion. “Sounds fine to me.”

Even after the disastrous first encounter they had, Felix and Marinette never became friends. He and Adrien certainly got along, or at least appeared to, but Felix and Marinette were only ever cordial.

It was a wake, after all. He should be nice. He gave her a small smile, one that looked eerily similar to Adrien’s.

Before she could stop herself, she was hugging him.

He didn’t smell like Adrien at all. He smelled like clean cat litter and laundry detergent, not spicy cologne and the smallest hint of cheese. Belatedly, she realized the cheese smell was probably Plagg’s doing.

“Uh…” He said awkwardly, before sighing and patting her on the back.

“I’m sorry,” she pulled away. “Even though…” she trailed off with a blush, embarrassed with what she had done. “You just look like him.”

“I know,” he shrugged. “I worried about coming. I’m prepared for people to see me and burst into tears. Or hug me, like you did. I get it. As much as I would like otherwise, I’m willing to tolerate it for today.”

“That’s kind of you.”

His face softened further. “You loved him, didn’t you?”

Amelie gasped. “Felix! You can’t just ask things like that!”

“It’s okay,” Marinette assured, hugging herself. “You’re right. I was—am. I still love him, even though he’s gone.”

“And…you know what happened?”

She nodded. “It sucks. And I really wish I could allow one terrible action to wipe everything away…but I knew him. These last two weeks he wasn’t himself. He was cruel to me in a way I had never seen. It just…it wasn’t Adrien.”

Felix gave her a critical look. “I always assumed my cousin couldn’t hurt a fly. It’s…bizarre, what happened.”

“It’s not public knowledge,” Amelie reminded. “And it should stay that way.”

“Who are we protecting by lying about it? The ‘Brand’? The family? Adrien himself?”

“What are they saying, anyway?” Asked Marinette.

“They’re saying both Adrien and Gabriel died from an in-home accident.”

“Vague,” said Felix. “Suspicious.”

“But better than ‘unknown causes’ at least,” said Marinette. “Maybe it’s selfish, but I want Adrien to be remembered for all the good he did…” As Chat Noir, her brain added, “and not the demons he faced in the end.”

“Still, I can’t help but wonder what made him snap,” he mused, looking at Marinette. “Do you have any idea what may have caused it?”

Her mind went back to two weeks, when he had asked her to dinner. He was nervous, and told her he had something to tell her.

And then that phone call a few nights ago. What had he said? Something about the basement?

“I’m…not sure. I’d have to think about it.”

“Perhaps you two could consider this mystery another day? Not during the visitation?” Amelie urged.

“Sorry mom, you’re right.” He glanced back at Marinette. “If you have anything on this, I’d love to hear it. I care deeply for Adrien, and honestly, I’m highly suspicious of these circumstances.”

Amelie huffed. “Darling, you heard Nathalie, what she saw, what the police found, it’s pretty cut and dry…”

“People don’t just murder their father’s for no reason! Especially with supposedly flawless mental health!”

The room grew quiet, as Felix’s outburst was louder than intended. Thankfully, guests had yet to arrive.

“Sorry. This whole thing…I’ve had enough of death in this lifetime.” He cleared his throat. “I need some water.”

When he left, Amelie squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t let Felix get to you. It’s just hard for him. He has so much in common with Adrien, it’s a little scary for him.”

Oh. That made sense. Fear he’d snap too?

“It was sudden for everyone. We’re all going through it.”

“They said you were having a moment alone with Adrien. I'll let you get back to it.” She squeezed her shoulder and left her in peace.

So now Marinette was left to wonder what she could possibly do. Where to even start? She didn’t need anymore time with an empty casket.

An' give me six crap shooting pall bearers,

Let a chorus girl sing me a song.

Put a red hot jazz band at the top of my head

So we can raise Hallelujah as we go along.

There were a few more guests now, but it was still a little early. She saw a man in a suit arranging flowers. He had a name tag on his lapel.

As casual as she could, she snuck over to him. “Excuse me, are you the funeral director by chance?”

“Oh? Yes I am. Bill Hunkerson, at your service. How can I help?”

She had to phrase this very carefully, to not be suspicious. “I’m a very close friend of Adrien’s. He was wearing a silver ring when he died. It doesn’t actually belong to him, and I was wondering if I could have it back.”

The man turned pale, but plastered on a smile. “Well, he’s probably wearing it now. Unfortunately, after we close the casket, we can’t open it again.”

She knew that was a big fat lie. And Marinette hated liars.

She lowered her voice. “Well, since his body isn’t actually in the casket, it shouldn’t be that hard, should it?”

The man stared at her, wide eyed, no longer smiling. “How did you—“ He frowned. “Look miss, I’m just doing what I’m paid for. I don’t know anything. That ring is probably gone forever, and I’d stop this search now.” He straightened his tie and bowed his head slightly. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Marinette opened her purse when she was alone. “I don’t know about you, Tikki, but I’ve got a bunch of red flags and alarm bells going off inside my head.”

“This isn’t good! We need to get that ring!”

“We need to find out what happened to Adrien’s body!”

“Yes, of course, that too!”

Marinette gnawed at the inside of her cheek. “Hey, no offense to Plagg, but wouldn’t he know to bring the ring back to me? If he can’t remove it, then wouldn’t he come tell me about it?”

Tikki’s eyes widened. “You’re right! If he died under normal circumstances, yes…but if he was transformed when he died…”

“Then what?”

“Plagg probably would be forced back into the ring. That’s probably why he didn’t come!”

“Now I’m even more worried and confused.” Marinette crossed her arms. “What if Adrien isn’t actually dead?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if…he ran away? And Gabriel made it out like he died? What if Gabriel’s still alive too?”

“It’s a theory, but I don’t know how well it will hold water.”

She studied the room again, trying not to draw attention to herself. She was supposed to be grieving after all.

Felix sat in the chairs over by the stairs, his back to the growing crowd.

Even if they didn’t really get along, two skeptics working together would be better than each on their own.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked.

“I suppose not.” He sighed.

Marinette sat in the chair next to him, and sat quietly for a moment, trying to decide how to proceed. She didn’t want to reveal her whole hand, but maybe playing a few cards would be to her advantage.

Felix beat her to it. He let out a weak chuckle. “I hate this family.”

What an awful thing to say at wake. “Why’s that?” She asked calmly.

“They die too quickly. It sounds so awful, I know. But it’s just my mother and I now. Grandparents are long gone, then my Aunt Emilie, then my father, and now them. It sucks and I’m sick of stupid funerals.”

“It must be hard. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well...I’m a pro at it now.” He was resting his cheek on his hand, and was staring at the corner of a wall, just pointedly avoiding eye contact. Still, she could see he had red in his eyes. Though she chose to ignore it. Felix seemed to be the type to hide his tears.

“You know...the last time I talked to Adrien, he told me to check the basement.”

This piqued Felix’s curiosity enough for him to look at her. “Basement? What basement?”

“I suppose here, but I haven’t had the chance to, since you know…all this going on.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I used to come to this house all the time. It doesn’t have a basement.”

“So…maybe at the company?”

“Could be. I wouldn’t know.”

“Okay, I just wondered...since you were family…”

He growled. “Yeah, some family.”

“Do you...want to talk about it?” She offered, really hoping he would take the bait.

He chuckled again, no humor in his tone. “Might as well, no one around left to hide things from.” He leaned back in the chair. “Gabriel is...was a very private person. I tried to love him, since he was my uncle, but he did a very good job at keeping us at a distance. Adrien was the opposite. We talked often, even when his mom and my dad died and things got rough. Sometimes, it didn’t feel like we were welcomed here. But Adrien so wanted a connection. I could feel it in his hugs when we visited. He was starving, Marinette.”

Marinette willed herself not to start crying.

“Mom and I were told by Nathalie that Adrien and Gabriel were caught in a murder-suicide, as enacted by Adrien, early in the morning on the 23rd.”

“Did she tell you where the murder-suicide happened?”

“Nope, just that it happened in this house. As the only living relatives, she asked if we could come and help with the funeral arrangements.”

“Were you involved in all of it?”

“I thought mom and I did all of it together, but there was one thing that Nathalie insisted on and wouldn’t budge.”

“What’s that?”

“Gabriel is going to be interred in the Agreste family mausoleum, but Adrien…” he sighed with disgust. “As punishment, he’s getting an unmarked grave.”

“What!?”

“That was the compromise. The truth about the murder-suicide, which I am believing less and less, would be withheld from the public as long as Adrien was…effectively erased from the family line.”

She couldn’t help the tears that burst forth. “But that’s not fair! He didn’t do anything wrong! He couldn’t’ve!”

“Yeah kid, I know. I agree.” He scowled. “It makes me sick. I hate it. Adrien was suffering in life, and now he’s going to suffer in death.”

“You don’t think he did it?”

“Do you?”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I know what’s been said, and what people saw...but it just can’t be true.” And she had evidence to prove it, in the form of that empty casket.

“You won’t mention I said any of this to my mom, right? She’s also having a hard time, but she tells me I’m in denial.”

“I won’t say a word.”

Folks, now that you have heard my story,

Say, boy, hand me another shot of that booze;

If anyone should ask you,

Tell 'em I've got those St. James Infirmary blues.

I’m not sure about next week’s update. I’m going camping and I don't know what the wifi will be like. Fingers crossed!

#ml #miraculous ladybug #the ghost of Smokey Joe #fanfiction #adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male vampire x male character - Part Two (nsfw) (Halloween ‘surprise’ Patreon story).

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I'm really pleased that you and my Patrons enjoyed the first part, and that folks were keen for more. I’ve had more interaction with this post on Patreon than many of the others, which is surprising given how mlm stories are usually much less in demand than m/f ones. Thanks for that!

Anyway, here's more of our favourite oblivious dork Alec and his obviously-not-a-vampire crush... Part Three is on the way too (tomorrow), despite this having been planned as a quick porn-without-plot one-shot, as it were. Oh well?!

Hope you enjoy.

Part One

After his initial - admittedly strange - meetings with Sebastien, Alec didn’t see him on campus at all for the rest of the week, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. Yes, the guy had been a bit of a pompous arsehole in the library, but he’d made up for it by coming to the art room and apologising, engaging him in conversation — even if that conversation had been slightly… odd? — and being so god-damn-fucking beautiful too.

He overheard his students gossiping about ‘Dr. Dulac’ earlier that afternoon while they all carved the pumpkins he’d bought for them at the local supermarket, and it seemed that the general consensus was that Sebastien was single, unfailingly polite (even in the face of Janette Hilton, the English Department’s longest-serving and least sympathetic lecturers), hotter than any celebrity you cared to name, and a specialist in the poets of the First World War like Sassoon and Brooke, among other more esoteric interests.

After an hour of clock-watching in his tiny little office in the Art Department on Friday, he abandoned all hope of concentrating on his last few bits of admin, and shut down his laptop. After clearing up yet more pumpkin seeds that he’d somehow missed on the last two sweeps he’d done of the studio, he stepped outside, never wanting to see another bloody thing again. Too bad he had a whole bloody cardboard box of them waiting to go into the boot of Kay’s car for her party that night. Still, he was almost sinfully proud of the carvings he’d done on them. One was decorated the whole way around with the foliate style engravings usually reserved for the steel on antique guns, with different depths to create the highlights and shadows, and another particularly spherical one had been cut away in squares to resemble the Death Star.

The October air outside bit into his lungs as he drew a deep breath - the spicy, fragrantly damp scents of autumn filling his nose - and his eye was drawn to the twinkling lights of the little coffee cart that still lingered in the park, selling tea, coffee, and hot chocolate to chilly students leaving the university campus for the night. With a black coffee for himself in one hand, he made his way to the Engineering Department, warily holding another frothy concoction in his other. It was apparently called a ‘London fog’ and it smelled of earl grey tea and lavender. He thought it sounded (and smelled) disgusting, but Kay perked right up when he deposited it on her desk five minutes later.

“Bless you, Alec Twayblade,” she grinned, taking the plastic lid off and inhaling it like it was the best thing she’d ever smelled. “Oh my god. How can you not like this?” she said after taking a huge gulp and moaning obscenely.

Alec didn’t bother to reply, his eye-roll speaking volumes anyway. They’d had this discussion so many times that they were both probably playing it out silently in their heads right that second. When Kay glanced up and saw that he certainly was, she snorted and grinned. “I love you, Alec,” she laughed. “You’re still coming tonight?”

“Against my better judgement,” he growled, leaning his weight on her desk and folding his arms across his battered, blue cable knit sweater. He had a huge daub of yellow paint on one elbow from that morning, and a small burn hole in the bottom from a failed attempt at pyrography a few years ago. It was the most comfortable jumper he owned, and he would probably wear it until it unravelled around him.

“You’re still not going to wear a costume, are you?” she added as she stood, pouting.

He shook his head. “I draw the line at that.”

“But you’d be so good making one!” she countered. “You helped me with that bat costume when we were at high school… Don’t you remember how fucking awesome it was?”

“I do,” he chuckled. “But I’m not going to wear one myself.”

She sighed, shoulders slumping. “Too much attention, huh?” she said softly. “Well, you know you’ll stand out more if you’re not wearing one tonight…?”

He shrugged. Honestly, he just couldn’t be bothered to dress up. Halloween had rather lost its shine for him anyway. “Not if I hide in the kitchen all night and make too-strong cocktails for everyone,” he said, flashing her his most roguish grin. “Plus, I spent much of today carving pumpkins with nattering eighteen year olds who are far too old to be carving pumpkins on academic time, but —”

“— you’re an awesome teacher who understands the need to let off some steam on the holidays,” she interjected. “Plus, it’s good practice anyway… working with a new medium…”

He allowed his lips to pinch upwards into a tiny smirk and let her have that one. “It’s nice to see them having fun,” was all he said.

An hour or so later, just as he arranged the last of the pumpkins down the garden path of Kay's Victorian semi-detached house, a voice murmured from behind him, “I can see the hand of a master at work in these carvings.”

Not having heard anyone approaching, Alec jumped, cursed, and dropped the pumpkin - thankfully with the candle still unlit. It rolled in a semicircle until a black boot gently stopped it, and a familiar face dipped into view as the owner of the boot bent to pick it up. To his surprise, it was Sebastien, and he was in costume. Probably anyway. Hopefully? Fuck. Alec’s brain stalled at the sight of him.

His eyes raked up Sebastien’s body and his jaw went quite literally slack.

The slender man was wearing thigh-high boots and leather pants so tight they had to have been spray-painted on, into which was tucked a loose, old-fashioned, white shirt with a good bit of flounce at the collar. “Holy shit,” he whispered, and Sebastien chuckled softly, a low, amused sound in the back of his throat.

“You recognise the costume?” he asked, seeming innocently amused. The long, dark coat, accented with gold brocade and bright gold buttons, opened briefly in a soft gust of wind that made the lit pumpkins flicker and lifted his loose, silver-white hair back for a breath as well.

“I…” he swallowed. “Uh, you’re Alucard,” he croaked. “From the Castlevania games…” A wry incline of Sebastien’s head told him he was correct, and then Alec blurted stupidly, “Shouldn’t you be shirtless though?”

Sebastien’s smile grew from pleased to deeply amused, his eyes glittering, and it was only then that Alec noticed the contacts burning a bright gold in his eyes and, as his lips peeled back and Sebastien began to laugh, he saw long, tapering, white canines befitting a vampire costume. “It’s a little cold for that, don’t you think?” Sebastien asked, still laughing quietly as Alec flushed crimson.

“Sorry,” he blurted. “I know. I just… forget it.”

“Where do you want it?” Sebastien asked, and Alec’s poor brain went blank.

“What?”

“The pumpkin,” Sebastien deadpanned and Alec’s poor, blank brain melted out of his ears with embarrassment.

“Uh… there’s fine,” he said, pointing at the little wrought-iron garden gate.

Sebastien placed the pumpkin down on the flagstone path so that the carved graveyard scene glimmered and flickered with appropriate spookiness, visible to anyone approaching along the quiet, suburban street. Enormous London plane trees stood sentry every few paces, heaving up the tarmac pavement with their roots, like a sleeper shifting a blanket with a restless turn, and sheltering the cars snuggled and parked beneath them. A carpet of leaves clung to the gutter in a long, golden line, melting into nothing in places in the glittering puddles. It would have been beautiful, had Alec not been faced with quite literally the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.

“Am I early then?” Sebastien asked, dusting off his palms and turning back to face Alec, who had barely managed to make his legs work long enough to stand up straight again.

He shook his head. “No. Henry’s inside already,” he said, running his fingers through his scruffy black hair. “With Rachel and Alison. I just forgot to put the pumpkins out earlier.”

“No costume?”

With a roll of his eyes, he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Too bad,” Sebastien said, eyeing the front door. The contacts were really creepy, shifting in the light that spilled down the stairs as the front door suddenly opened and Kay stepped out before he could worry that he’d been the only one to dress up. He could probably brush it off anyway, Alec supposed, and tried not to envy the man’s quiet confidence.

Silhouetted starkly against the hall light, with her high ‘Dracula’ collar on prominent display, Kay shrieked with glee and clapped her hands when she saw Sebastien. Apparently the two of them had been getting along rather well, while Alec had sequestered himself away in the Art Department like an ascetic.

“Bastien! You look amazing oh my god!” she blurted, rushing forwards a step or two before halting abruptly. “Wait, does that make me your father for the evening?” she cackled. “Wow, your teeth are really good! Mine wouldn't stay in for more than a few minutes…”

Sebastien’s gold eyes flickered sideways to Alec but it happened so briefly that he almost missed it. “Custom made a long time ago,” was all he said. “Shall we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”

“Yes, of course, come on in,” she said, waving them all inside, Sebastien first. As Alec passed her last, she slapped him hard on the backside in rebuke and hissed, “Told you you should have worn a costume! You look like a big dumbo!”

“No different from any other night,” he quipped back, and she growled something indistinct at him. Perhaps a werewolf costume would have suited her better. “You could have told me you’d invited Dulac…”

“Why?” she retorted. “So you could suddenly decide that an evening moping alone with your PS4 playing Rocket League with strangers was more appealing? No fucking chance. Get inside. Sebastien’s right; I’m freezing my tits off.”

The distant murmur of voices in the living room made him veer off instinctively into the kitchen, and while they began to watch some old Hammer horror film, he made drinks. That, at least, he was good at.

Entering a while later, he found that Sebastien was seated on the sofa beside Henry, who wore an enormously fluffy wolfman costume - mostly a repurposed Chewbacca onesie with a latex wolf mask. He’d pushed the mask up onto his head in order to eat the Halloween themed nibbles on the coffee table, and the effect rendered him entirely ridiculous. Another reason not to wear a costume: it’s impractical, and gets in the way, and washing ketchup out of matted fake fur is a nightmare. Alison and Rachel sat practically in each other’s laps, one a zombie and the other a ghost, both squeezed into one groaning old armchair.

After half an hour of Christopher Lee’s admittedly creepy Dracula, Alec slid from his seat at the periphery, and ducked out again into the kitchen. Straightening from fishing a beer from the back of the fridge, he heard the soft click of the door and turned to find Sebastien standing there.

“Get bored with late 1950’s horror too?” Alec asked. “Beer?”

Sebastien inclined his head in a way that said he wasn’t a beer drinker and held up his almost-empty wineglass as an excuse as he moved a little closer. “If you don’t like cheesy horror films, and you don’t seem to like Halloween either, I wonder why you came at all tonight?”

“For Kay,” he said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “She loves this shit.”

At that, Sebastien paused, a delicate smile on his face. In the soft glow of the under-cupboard lighting, his tanned skin seemed to shimmer, and Alec wondered fleetingly if he’d put some kind of glittery body powder on. Next, he wondered what on earth Sebastien was doing in here with him, looking at him like that.

“You are a good friend,” Sebastien said quietly, seeming perhaps a little sad around the edges.

“She’s done more than her fair share of looking after me,” Alec sighed knowingly. “Not that I’m doing it because I owe her,” he added, twisting the cap off the bottle and leaning back against the counter to drink deeply from it. As the malty froth washed over his tongue, he felt eyes on him and looked over at the other man.

Sebastien tilted his head slightly to the side, the false golden light in his eyes making him look like a cat in the dark. “You said she was trying to set you up with someone…”

Alec snorted, nearly shooting beer out of his nose. “Yeah. Well, she seems to think a good fuck will sort my mood out.”

“But you think otherwise?”

“You offering?” he asked bitterly, taking another swig and feeling uncharacteristically bold, though absolutely not expecting the answer he got.

“Perhaps.”

His eyebrows shot up and this time he did cough a little. “You can’t be serious.”

“You think someone who looks like me is entirely straight?” he asked with a wry smile, and Alec had to hand it to him. Not many men he knew could pull of long, luscious, white-blond hair like that, or would have the confidence to wear fucking thigh-high boots and whisper-tight leather pants…

“Still… you don’t really know me… That’s all I meant…”

“Doesn't mean one couldn’t engage in — how did you call it? — ‘a good fuck’. Not that I’m averse to getting to know you better, before or after.”

Alec swallowed another enormous gulp of frothing beer and blinked. “You’re serious?”

With a melodramatic smile that revealed his vampire teeth clearly, ‘Alucard’ purred, “Deadly.”

And Alec burst out laughing. The spell was shattered and the two men shared the remnants of their drinks and their laughter together before Alec sighed. “Your place or mine?”

At that, Sebastien seemed to falter, as if he hadn’t thought through to that point. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “I assume yours would be alright?”

Alec shrugged. “Sure, if you don’t mind smacking your head on the ceiling and being able to touch two opposite walls at the same time…”

Sebastien’s lips hitched into another wry smile. “I’ve fucked in tighter spaces, I’m sure.”

“You know what?” Alec said as he rinsed out the beer bottle at the sink and half-turned to look at the other man over his shoulder. “You’re absolutely not what I expected.”

“Nor were you,” he shot back, still smirking. “And it’s been a while since I was assaulted by someone in a library.”

“Bring back happy memories, did it?” he snorted.

“Not exactly,” Sebastien murmured, and Alec realised he hadn’t actually been joking. “But I must confess that — despite my behaviour — I was pleasantly surprised by the sight of you when you rounded that bookshelf…”

Turning, Alec approached him cautiously. If he was genuinely serious about his proposal, Alec would find out now. “Pleased enough to seek me out afterwards…” he said, raising his eyebrows. He couldn’t do that ‘one brow at a time’ thing that Sebastien could, but it seemed to get his tone across all the same.

Unusually for Alec, Sebastien had an inch or two on him in height, and as Alec paused in front of him, close enough to catch the faintest hint of a woody cologne, the man angled his face just perfectly for the light to dance along his high cheekbones. Fuck, he was exquisite. The urge to kiss him rose in Alec; to feel his lips against his own, to have those elegant hands scrunch his hair…

As if reading his mind, Sebastien slowly, carefully, raised his right hand and brought his index finger to Alec’s chin, tilting it upwards just a fraction with the lightest pressure. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much, and it left Alec breathless. Again. Panting slightly, he parted his lips and then swallowed thickly.

Sebastien’s eyes darted instantly to the motion of his throat and for a second, Alec could have sworn he saw a vibrant red light reflected in his eyes. Sensing his moment of hesitation, of tension, Sebastian frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Alec breathed. “I thought your eyes went red but it must have been a car on the street outside or something.”

“Indeed,” he murmured, but then blinked rapidly. “Do you still wish to continue this?”

“Yes,” he whispered. Don't stop now. His whole body was thrumming in a way it hadn’t ever before with casual encounters. He felt alive for the first time in months.

Sebastien stepped back, turning his face away a little more. “Should we make our excuses…?”

Alec shook his head. “Nah, Kay will know what’s going on anyway, and I don’t want to face her smug looks until tomorrow at the least.”

With a softly amused chuckle, Sebastien stepped back and allowed Alec to leave the room first. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as the other man followed behind, but he didn't turn around or look at him until they were outside on the main street.

“It’s a bit of a walk…” Alec said, only realising then how long the walk would be. “I’m way over on the other side of town by the station…”

The continuing intensity of Sebastien’s scrutiny was beginning to shift from a turn-on to just marginally unnerving, but he told himself that an esteemed professor at one of the country’s finest universities, with more letters after his name than anyone his age had a right to possess, was unlikely to be truly dangerous for a one-night stand… right? There was something about the way he stared at Alec — an unmistakable hunger in his eyes — that made his skin prickle and his heartbeat jump instinctively. Like a deer before the gaze of a tiger, he was entranced.

Unexpectedly, Sebastien’s easy stride slowed at the brick gateway to a small, gravel park that sat between an old church and a chemist, the latter closed at this time of night. “May I kiss you?” he breathed, still gazing at him unblinkingly, as though Alec were the pretty one in this equation, not him.

Alec couldn’t help grinning. The way Sebastien’s eyes bored into him then drove all thought of threat and fear from his mind, and he nodded.

The man’s hands were chilly from the night air, but the moment they cupped his jaw and drew Alec toward him, he forgot about that. He forgot about everything at the meeting of their lips. Sebastien began tentatively, merely brushing their lips together, but when his golden eyes fluttered closed, he deepened the gesture, tongue just begging entrance, teasing him before withdrawing, retreating and returning.

Searing want shot down Alec’s spine and he arched into Sebastien’s taller body, hips seeking contact through his jeans. He moaned, deep and guttural, and it seemed to awaken something in Sebastien, because the man grabbed hold of the back of Alec’s hair and pulled his head slightly to one side to begin to kiss along his jawline, down to wards his neck. For a heartbeat, Sebastien froze there, nose pressed to his rabbiting pulse point, his teeth just grazing skin, before he exhaled harshly and stepped back. “We shouldn’t get carried away,” was all he whispered, stepping slightly out of Alec’s dazed field of view. “My place is nearer though.”

“Ok,” Alec said, still reeling. “Sure.”

When they reached the apartment building, his steps faltered in amazement. “You live… here?”

A slight flush seemed to warm Sebastien’s cheeks as he stepped up to the main doorway, only to have it opened from the other side by a man in livery. “Good evening, Monsieur Dulac,” said the friendly doorman instantly.

“Good evening,” he replied. “This is my friend, Alec Twayblade.”

It was impossible for the doorman not to realise that his ‘friend, Alec Twayblade’ was going to be a little more than that for the night, but he never let a flicker of judgement pass across his face. From the concierge desk - Sebastien’s building had a fucking concierge desk too - another man looked up and wished them both a good evening as they headed for the lifts.

“Does the English department also sell diamonds or drugs or something? How the fuck can you afford a place like this on a lecturer’s salary?” but even as he said it and the doors closed with a soft chime, he realised the truth of it. Sebastien’s aristocratic features and bearing were not merely a persona. They were truth. He stared up at him while Sebastien turned a key in the lift panel.

“Are you secretly royalty or something?” he whispered, only half joking.

The man shot him an amused look and shook his head, silk-white hair whispering against the rougher wool of his costume coat. “No, of course not, but I do have some inherited wealth.”

Some? “So you don’t actually have to work at the university at all then?”

He made a so-so motion of his head and said, “No, not really, but I genuinely enjoy teaching.”

“Your students certainly seem to enjoy you…”

“You don’t enjoy teaching?” he asked as the numbers on the dial climbed and climbed.

Please don’t say you live in the fucking penthouse too, Alec thought, already suspecting it might be true from the whole ‘special access key’. He glanced at the number pad and saw that the button labelled ‘PH’ was illuminated. Fuck. “Most days I enjoy it,” he admitted. “But I kind of fell into it a while back and just sort of…” he shrugged, “Stuck with it.”

Sebastien asked no more, and the lift finally stopped on the top floor. The doors drew back to reveal an apartment beyond that Alec could only gawp at. It was like something from the set of an Architectural Digest photo shoot. Nothing was out of place in the hardwood floor paradise, with clean, crisp lines and white marble counter tops in the kitchen off to his left, while a comfortable, and yet still clinically modern, sitting area sat to their right. Deep, fluffy rugs dotted that part of the penthouse, and a wide balcony stretched out over the city beyond, complete with a little table and chairs for warmer evenings.

“This place is incredible,” Alec breathed, the reason for his even being here completely forgotten.

Clearly sensing that, Sebastien smiled bashfully and said, “Would you like something to drink?”

Alec cleared his throat and hoped he wasn’t going to be faced with a choice between very expensive wines that he’d never heard of. “Sure… thanks.”

“White, red, beer, or whisky?” he asked, walking towards the kitchen and dumping his ‘Alucard’ coat over the back of a white sofa as he went. Alec’s mouth went dry as he watched the point where his narrow hips met the flowing material of the white shirt. Dear god, an arse like that shouldn’t be… well, it just shouldn’t be. And yet there it was. Clad in leather and looking positively delectable. “Or a soft drink?” he added when Alec remained silent.

Aware of where his gaze had landed, Sebastien halted and looked back over his shoulder, long, loose, naturally straight hair already losing the curls that had been worked into it for the Alucard costume. Definitely not straight, if he owned hair curlers.

“Uh…” Alec said, unsure what the question had even been now.

“I’m going to pour myself a whisky, if that helps…?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sebastien smiled, looking almost endeared by Alec’s inept stuttering. Surely he couldn’t be unused to such a reaction? “Make yourself at home then.”

With a smoky, peat-tinged whisky in a wide, heavy-bottomed tumbler set on his glass coffee table, Alec watched Sebastien turn the gas fire on, and, to his surprise, he came to a halt directly in front of him. Setting his own whisky down on the table with a deliberate, and yet delicate, clunk, Sebastien turned back to him and raked his eyes down Alec’s body in a way that made him flush hot all over. His cock twitched with interest and he tried not to preen under that gaze.

Sebastien’s eyes and teeth were back to normal now, with no hint of the golden contacts or the vampire fangs, and Alec fleetingly assumed that he must have removed them at some point between getting the whisky and appearing in front of him looking like he was about to ravish him. Oh dear god, please let him be about to ravish me, he thought with a big, dumb grin spreading across his face.

Seeing his reaction, Sebastien reached down and knelt facing him on the sofa, running his palm over the already-growing bulge in Alec’s jeans. Alec let out a deep grunt and rocked his hips up into the contact, throwing his head back against the soft, open weave of the white fabric. “Oh fuck,” he hissed.

Sebastien’s fingers found the button of his jeans and deftly undid it, but he paused. “May I?” he asked, and Alec found himself nodding before he’d even worked out what Sebastien wanted.

He found out a moment later, when his jeans were around his ankles and Sebastien was kneeling on the floor between his knees and licking a long stripe up the length of his rapidly hardening cock.

“Oh god,” he panted as the wet heat of Sebastien’s mouth engulfed half of his length and then drew back to leave his wet tip exposed to the slight chill of the apartment air. The contrast stole his breath for a heartbeat, but Sebastien returned his attentions to his cock, gently sucking and working him to full hardness in a matter of minutes.

Pleasure sparked through Alec’s whole body and he strained not to thrust back into Sebastien’s mouth, even as Sebastien took him right to the back of his throat, the tip of Alec’s cock nudging against the silky resistance of his throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he chanted as Sebastien’s fingertips just teased and caressed the underside of his balls too, and Sebastien hollowed his cheeks and sucked a little more insistently. “Oh fuck…” Really fucking eloquent here, Alec, he thought vaguely, but one look down at the vision kneeling between his legs and sucking him off drove even that thought from his brain.

The suck and slide of Sebastien’s mouth was incredible, and while he had no idea quite how much time passed, it felt like mere seconds as the heat stoked in him until he could feel the orgasm threatening to crash through him. “I’m… I’m really close…” he gasped as Sebastien moaned against his cock, sending little vibrations thrumming through him and tipping him even closer. The sharp prick of his teeth every now and again was a perfect counterpoint to the slick heat of his mouth, and it was never enough to hurt. Normally Alec wasn’t one for including teeth in this, but with Sebastien, it felt perfect.

Sebastien pulled back just as Alec felt himself beginning to coil up, his lips swollen and glistening from the exertion of bringing him that close, and he smiled. He looked radiant, and Alec’s cock twitched enthusiastically in his hands as he let out a soft whimper. The air was cold and his tip beaded pre-come freely, which Sebastien thumbed away with a surprisingly tender gesture, only to watch as more pearled immediately at his slit. Using just the tip of his tongue, Sebastien lapped at it delicately and Alec’s whole body shuddered.

His thighs shook at the tiny, intense stimulation, with Sebastien's fingers gripping the base of his cock in a tight circle, and he gasped, chest heaving. It was too much and not enough, and as he found his perineum teased as well, he bellowed and trembled. He was half a heartbeat away from coming harder than he could ever remember coming in his life, and Sebastien wasn’t going to let him have it. He roared and ground his teeth, bucking his hips, which made Sebastien laugh softly.

“Alright,” he heard him murmur, before he swallowed him down to the back of his throat again, and Alec shattered with a yell.

When he finally blinked his eyes open, he found that Sebastien had risen and was sitting on the small sofa beside him, whisky in hand, staring openly at him. He didn’t look smug exactly, but there was a quiet satisfaction to his brown eyes that made Alec flush, at which Sebastien’s beautiful lips drew back into a smile. He noted again those slightly larger canines, but they were nothing like the vampire teeth he had worn earlier.

“What do you want?” Alec asked, voice hoarse. God, he sounded wrecked. Had he really shouted so hard he’d made his throat sore?

Sebastien’s dolorous, dark eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. “What do you want?”

“To watch you come,” he said immediately.

“And how would you like me to come?” Sebastien replied, sipping nonchalantly at the golden liquor as if the were discussing what Alec would like Sebastien to wear. As it was, his leather pants were constricting his obvious hard-on in a way that had to be painful for him, and his shirt was open at the neck to reveal delicate collarbones and a glimpse of his beautiful olive skinned chest.

He was an absolute vision. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he blurted in a whisper before he could stop himself, and to his surprise, Sebastien laughed. The sound was bright, delighted, and oddly self-conscious, as if he hadn’t been expecting a compliment like that. “Sorry,” he added, looking away. “Look… if you’ve got condoms, I’m… I’m good to… you know…”

“You want me to fuck you?” Sebastien asked, his gaze sharpening again.

“Yes?”

“’Yes?’ Or ‘yes’…?” Sebastien asked, seeking clarification.

“Yes. But I don't understand your question.”

“Look at me,” Sebastien said.

“Hard not to…” Alec quipped back, still feeling utterly wrung out.

“Most people assume I’m going to be the one taking it…”

Alec’s eyebrows rose as realisation settled. “Oh. And, what, I look like a top?”

Sebastien’s lips twitched. “Conventionally more so than I do, with your rugged looks and the rough shadow around your jaw…”

“So… do you want me to… you know…? Or…” Fuck, he felt like a teenager again, struggling to articulate himself and not get his sentences in a tangle while this breathtaking creature just sat there and watched him make an idiot out of himself.

“I very much want to fuck you,” Sebastien said at last. “If you’d like that as well.”

“Yes,” he said instantly.

Sebastien set down his glass and rose in a single, elegant motion, and then held his hand out to Alec.

His skin was still cool, especially next to Alec’s searing body, and his hold was steady as Alec heaved himself to his feet and allowed himself to be alternately tugged and kissed into the bedroom.

___

Part Three

Behold, plot has appeared to go with the Halloween porn I had planned. Alec’s family will come up in the next chapter.

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

#vampire #male vampire #male vampire x human #exophilia #vampire boyfriend #male vampire x male human #male monster #mlm #mlm exophilia

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spmcomic · 3 years

Note

27 on the drabble list with timpani and anyone else of your choice?

27. “I don’t want to feel like this tomorrow.”

Plates and utensils clinked against each other at the crowded tables of Saffron’s little restaurant. Merlon slouched back in his seat, drumming his fork thoughtfully against a slice of puffy bread as he contemplated his spicy soup. His mustache flowed and billowed as he twitched his lip underneath.

Tippi clambered around the little plate of glitter and confetti that Saffron had set on the table for her, poking and prodding at the clouds of auras crowded into the diner at its peak hour.

That’s Skeet Azure... He’s here to blow his money after yet another long day of doing nothing... Max HP: 130, max FP: 4.

That’s Chap Green... He’s thinking of writing a novel… based entirely on the last book that got him excited, of course. Max HP: 155, max FP: 3. He’s ordered a new dish, tonight. Maybe he is branching out, after all…

That’s Lucy Muffy… She broke up with her boyfriend today. Max HP: 120, max FP: 20. She wanted the new year to open a new chapter of her life, so she cut her romantic attachment… he understood completely.

That’s Nora Lara-

“Tippi,” Merlon said again. Tippi jolted and swung her antennae in his direction. Merlon’s eyes narrowed a fraction, then returned to their listless mope. “I was speaking, you know.”

Tippi adjusted her balance to more fully face him. His steely blue aura sat under the thick shroud of a jittering, colorless cloak. “Sorry… You were saying?”

Merlon stared at his hand. “Do you think I should… try to best Saffron’s Special again? I fear it may be the only way to win her attention.”

“Hm…” Tippi fluttered, kicking up some loose bits of colorless, translucent confetti. “Have you considered, um, just telling her how you feel…? That sounds like the most direct way to get her to talk to you…”

Merlon scoffed and dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

“You don’t have to be weird about it, you know…”

That earned her a blustering grumble. “You don’t understand romance, Tippi. The dance of it, the battle of wits-” He gestured as he spoke, and flinched when he tapped against his spoon in the soup and nearly launched the broth across the table.

Her antennae perked with interest. “Can you tell me about it? How does romance work?”

Merlon slumped back again, expression dark. “If you make your move before proving yourself, Tippi… your opponent, er, I mean, the object of your affections, she will not trust in your ability to be a proper partner. You must make grand gestures, displays of your prowess, that will impress the love into her.”

Tippi thought that over for a moment. Her wings quivered. “That sounds… pretty weird, Merlon.”

“If you fail to impress your conquest, then she will reject you,” Merlon continued, over the second half of Tippi’s sentence. “And you will never get another chance, because you have revealed your inability to be patient, or to play hard to get. You will have revealed it for all of Flipside to see. And then no one will take you seriously as the town’s shaman. Impatience is a simply unacceptable character flaw, in a partner and in a leader.”

Tippi waited for him to finish his lecture before she spoke. “So… if you want to be a boyfriend, you have to be a leader first?”

“Exactly.” Merlon decisively grabbed at his spoon, his appetite incensed. “I cannot fail. I must be absolutely certain it is the right time to make my move. If I fail… Well. I will become unable to perform my duties, I will lose all the respect I have fought so hard to win from these folk for the last five decades, and I will lose Saffron’s affections. I will become a loser. I do not want to feel like this tomorrow, and so I will not ask.”

“… But-”

“Tomorrow is New Years’ Eve. If I feel like this tomorrow, I will get terribly drunk, my dear. Let us attend the festivities with clear minds and clear consciences.”

“That sounds like a plan, yeah…” Tippi plucked at the confetti on her plate, watching the flakes drift around the plate’s flat surface. “Thanks for taking the time to teach me all of that.”

“Of course, Tippi. And thank you for indulging an anxious old man…” Merlon chuckled, and then twitched when he spilled the soup out of his spoon onto his mustache.

#Anonymous #ask #super paper mario #tippi #merlon #ask meme #yes merlon is also going to be an Absolute Disaster hope you're looking forward to that

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ryukoishida · 3 years

Text

Qian Qiu / Thousand Autumns Fic: [Ch 4] In which SQ drinks with YWS and YA barges in.

Title: You’re a Problem I Encounter Fandom: Qian Qiu / Thousand Autumns Characters/Ships: YanShen Rating: NSFW eventually Chapter: 4/? Summary: Yan Wushi was the proud leader of Huan Yue Group, one of the most influential syndicates in the underground world, who wanted nothing more than to see the world burn. His accidental encounter with the pure-hearted school teacher Shen Qiao was a problem he didn’t expect to get entangled in. A/N: So, funny story, I didn’t plan for this AU to be more than just snippets of scenes and vignettes, so now that there’s actually a Plot, updates might be sporadic at best. Sorry folks :’) List of Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4]

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iv. Fake Love

In the end, Shen Qiao conceded to at least meet with YuWen Yong and his son once before deciding whether or not to completely turn down Yan Wushi’s proposition. That was his begrudged way to make up for the stab wound that was still bleeding merrily on Yan Wushi’s upper arm.

At Shen Qiao’s defeated declaration, the leader of Huan Yue Group looked pleased and seemed unable to hide his grin despite his injury.

With a weary sigh, Shen Qiao reminded him that this was only because he didn’t want Yan Wushi to get any other weirder ideas.

Yan Wushi was completely okay with that.

(When Yan Wushi got back into his vehicle, Bian Yanmei’s brows immediately gathered into a concerned frown at the sight of his superior's injured arm and ruined shirt.

Yan Wushi was known to be a painstakingly meticulous man – everything from his speech, his gestures, the way he fought, the way he dressed – he would not allow anyone to see him in such a disarrayed state. Besides, who would even have the guts and the capability to leave a bloodied mark on the leader of one of the most feared organizations in the syndicate world?

“Yan-dangjia, is… everything all right?” Bian Yanmei helped him clean and bandage his wound. Thankfully it wasn’t a deep one, but it was definitely going to leave a scar.

“Oh, it’s more than all right,” Yan Wushi said with an amused grin, and left it at that.)

Almost an entire month had passed before Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi crossed paths again. They agreed to meet up at a high-end urban lounge in downtown called Indigo Palace, which coincidentally turned out to be one of Yu Ai’s favourite drinking places in the city, and as one of his closest friends, Shen Qiao had long been familiar with the establishment though he rarely partook in alcoholic drinks.

His last visit here had been an unpleasant one, to say the least, and to return to Indigo Palace after that incident instilled a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if the moment he entered this place, he’d be swallowed up by abhorrent memories and be reminded of the once pure and innocent relationship he shared with Yu Ai had now been poisoned by betrayal and tainted with distrust.

Shen Qiao half-wondered if Yan Wushi picked this place on purpose; knowing his twisted personality, he wouldn’t be surprised if the leader of Huan Yue Group had found out about the connection between his kidnapping and Indigo Palace, and had specifically chosen to meet Shen Qiao here precisely because he wanted to see how he’d react.

No matter, he thought to himself with a bitter smile as he pushed the glass door and strolled in, jazzy lounge music immediately surrounding him like silken sheets, providing him a sort of mundane comfort that he found hard to explain.

Upon seeing Xuan Du Group leader’s adopted son, the concierge in charge of taking care of patrons at the entrance and filtering troublemakers and drunkards instantly plastered on a striking smile and lowered himself into a respectful bow in greeting, to which Shen Qiao warily nodded in return.

“Is Shen-shaoye meeting a friend here? Will you require a private room at all?”

“There’s no need, thank you,” Shen Qiao replied and was about to head straight into the seating area when he changed his mind and turned to ask, “do you happen to know if someone of Huan Yue Group is already here?”

“Speaking of the devil…” the concierge’s face twisted into an expression akin to a mixture of aversion and dread at the mention of such person, “Yan Wushi came in about fifteen minutes ago, claiming he’s here to meet someone. What does the leader of a rival group want from us? Is he trying to pick a fight with Qi-dangjia or something?”

“Where is he seated?” Shen Qiao hoped the clueless boy didn’t actually say or do anything to irate Yan Wushi for real, or he was certain the concierge wouldn’t survive even if he were given ten extra lives to spare.

“At the far end of the bar,” the concierge informed him with a sour look, “Gu-jie is keeping an eye on him in case he starts something.”

A good call on Gu Hengbo’s part, Shen Qiao mused with approval, and thanked the concierge before heading in.

Unlike a lot of pubs and bars in the downtown area, Indigo Palace boasted of tasteful décor, delectable drinks, and professional service. Most patrons were here to relax after a long, grueling day at the office nearby and just wanted to relax with a drink and some venting to their friends and colleagues; others through connections with Xuan Du Group might be here in one of the lounge’s VIP private rooms to deal business of the clandestine and illegal kind. Tonight, it looked just like any other evenings of a workday: men and women in loosened ties and wrinkled blouses chattered quietly in their own secluded circles, expensive drinks in hand.

Shen Qiao meandered his way to the far end of the room where the bar was located, the wall of colourful bottles of alcohol and syrup gleaming with a mystical glow under the subdued lighting of the lounge.

“Shen-dage!” the bartender was the one who spotted Shen Qiao first, and she greeted him with a bright grin and a friendly little wave after putting away the last glass she was wiping clean.

“Hengbo,” Shen Qiao smiled warmly at the young woman, who was like a little sister to him since she started training and working under Qi Fengge’s tutelage. The four of them – Shen Qiao, Gu Hengbo, Yu Ai, and Tan Yuanchun – shared a close relationship like siblings due to their ages being relatively close. Though as they grew to have their own group of friends and social obligations, Shen Qiao would never think to abandon or cut ties with the three of them no matter how differently they lived their lives.

Gu Hengbo rushed to the side of the bar closest to Shen Qiao and began to prattle away, “Shen-dage, what have you been up to? It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you! And you know Yu-dage, he wouldn’t tell me anything even if I’m being my most charming self.”

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to come in to see you sooner,” Shen Qiao smiled apologetically, petting the younger woman on the head with the kind of gentle affection that he only allowed when he was with people that he felt comfortable with. “Work has been… well, you know how it can get.”

Shen Qiao wasn’t good at lying, so the best he could do was avoiding the topic all together. From what he could surmise, Gu Hengbo still didn’t know that he’d been fired from his previous job, nor did she seem to be aware of the kidnapping incident.

“Ah-Qiao, you’ve kept me waiting.”

Before Shen Qiao could continue his conversation with Gu Hengbo, they were rudely interrupted by that oh-so-familiar drawl that could only belong to one person.

“Shen-dage, you know that man?” Gu Hengbo was actually about to tell him to stay away from Yan Wushi. She’d never met the infamous leader of Huan Yue Group herself, but she’d heard enough about the man, and given his dubious reputation, it didn’t make her feel any easier to see her beloved sworn brother getting acquainted with such a dangerous and controversial character, even by the standards of Xuan Du’s lawless nature.

“Unfortunately,” Shen Qiao only said drily, “don’t worry about him. He’s here to see me.”

Shen Qiao sighed, already feeling the start of a headache brewing in his temples, but his upbringing dictated him to greet Yan Wushi with as much courtesy as he could muster under the circumstances.

“Yan-dangjia, I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable,” he folded himself onto the bar stool next to Yan Wushi and was careful to keep a safe distance between them.

“I’ve got to say,” Yan Wushi swirled his drink in a tulip glass, the liquid inside a glistening rich amber, “I would never have expecte this place to serve such excellent cognac.”

“You have Hengbo to thank then,” Shen Qiao said, nodding towards the bartender who was looking at them curiously out of the corner of her eyes, “she’s the one who makes all the purchases here, and she does have an eye for good liquor.”

Yan Wushi raised his glass towards Gu Hengbo with an appreciative hum. She returned the gesture with a curt nod, eyes cold and guarded.

“And what will you have?” Yan Wushi wanted to know after taking another sip of his cognac.

“Hengbo, can I have my usual please?”

“Of course,” Gu Hengbo happily made his order with elegant ease, measuring out and pouring different liquids into the silver drink mixer. The resulting solution was a pale foggy citrine fluid poured over ice chips into a copper mug and topped with a sprig of mint leaves and a thinly-sliced wedge of lime.

She slid the beverage across the lacquered bar top, but a hand intercepted the mug before it could reach Shen Qiao.

“Yan-dangjia…”

“Moscow Mule?” Yan Wushi leaned in a little closer to take a whiff, a brow raising up before passing the drink off to Shen Qiao at last. “Virgin?”

“Do you have a problem with my order?”

“Not at all,” Yan Wushi smiled easily behind his glass, “I’m merely interested in what Ah-Qiao’s favourite drink is, that’s all.”

Instead of reacting to Yan Wushi’s comment, Shen Qiao took a much-needed gulp of his drink. The refreshing lime flavor and the spicy-sweetness of the ginger beer instantly cleared up his mind and made him feel better, slightly less annoyed by Yan Wushi’s presence and the brazen way the man kept staring at him while he drank.

Yan Wushi finally spoke after he watched Shen Qiao finished half of his drink.

“Well, how did it go?”

“I imagine you’ve already talked with YuWen Yong, so why are you asking me?” Shen Qiao cradled the mug with both of his hands. He was staring quite hard into the cup as if the answer lay somewhere deep in the bottom of his drink.

“I’d like to hear your side of things, too, Ah-Qiao,” Yan Wushi sounded almost genuine that it made Shen Qiao pause.

“How much did he tell you?” Shen Qiao turned to face the other man, gaze remaining hesitant.

“He sounded impressed, which is a rare occurrence for that man, so that’s saying something. He was also quite upset that you rejected his offer. I heard he’d even proposed to help you re-instate your position at your old academy, or give you a recommendation to an even more distinguished institution.”

“There’s no point in getting a position if it weren’t earned by my own merits,” there was something unshakable in the steady tone of Shen Qiao’s voice that fascinated Yan Wushi.

“There’s no shame in relying on someone else’s help now and then,” Yan Wushi reminded him matter-of-factly.

“That’s where you and I differ, Yan-dangjia,” Shen Qiao said in an equally pragmatic tone.

“I wonder…” the corner of Yan Wushi’s lips curved up in a subtle degree as he leaned closer towards Shen Qiao, the amber liquid in his glass churning with a mesmerizing pattern, “or perhaps you just haven’t hit your lowest point yet.”

As if sensing Yan Wushi’s sudden unwelcome proximity, Shen Qiao quietly shifted his body back with just enough precision and poise that it looked like he was merely changing his position of sitting by crossing his legs the other way naturally.

“I don’t mind YuWen Yong,” Shen Qiao continued as if that little display of push-and-pull – a silent, deadly waltz – didn’t happen, “as a politician, he has done beneficial deeds for the public and he has good intentions, even if the means to his goals were a little… unscrupulous.”

“So, the problem lies not with him but with his son?”

Shen Qiao nodded grimly.

“I did say that brat’s a handful,” Yan Wushi laughed. “I take it that means you met YuWen Yun as well?”

“YuWen Yong insisted that I at least talked with his son first before making my final decision, so I did.”

“And?” Yan Wushi’s eyes brightened with interest.

He couldn’t avoid interacting with the boy since he was always having meetings with YuWen Yong at the politician’s mansion, but the few times they were forced to talk had been… well, let’s just say that if he didn’t have favorable business ties with YuWen Yong, Yan Wushi wouldn’t have tried as hard to prevent himself from throttling the bratty teenager with his own two hands. He wanted to know what Shen Qiao – a teacher who was experienced in communicating with children of different personalities and attitudes – might think of someone like YuWen Yun, who many would label a problematic child upon their first meeting with him.

“I’ll admit, academically speaking, he’s smart for his age. And maybe far too clever for his own good in other ways.”

“Oh?”

After another sip of his drink, Shen Qiao continued, “he played the role of a perfect high school student and the son of a respectable government official in front of me: bright, polite, just the right level of charm and playfulness, but there was something not quite right – I could see it in his eyes.”

“I didn’t know Shen-laoshi is an expert in physiognomy, too,” Yan Wushi commented with amusement.

“It has nothing to do with physical facial traits,” Shen Qiao said, “call it an instinct—”

“Ah-Qiao!”

The familiar voice made Shen Qiao freeze and his fingers tightened around the copper mug with such force that his knuckles were turning white. He bit his lower lip to stop the words that were about to rush out of his mouth; there were things he’d like to say, but he also knew that once some words were laid out bare, he could never take them back.

But Shen Qiao couldn’t – shouldn’t – run away anymore. Sooner or later, he’d have to face Yu Ai and their crumbling friendship, and what it meant to Xuan Du Group as a whole.

“Ah-Qiao, what are you doing with that bastard?” Yu Ai was now standing directly behind Shen Qiao, his eyes glaring daggers at the unwelcome guest. He’d heard from his own informants that Shen Qiao had started to mingle with some high-level member of Huan Yue Group, but never would he imagine the protagonist of the rumor was none other than the syndicate leader himself.

Yan Wushi snickered, absolutely unperturbed by the pointed name-calling.

“You have the face to call me a bastard? I’m not the one who betrayed his own brother behind his boss’s back, am I?”

“You—!” Yu Ai was this close to pulling out his revolver despite being in public with witnesses and civilians all around.

At the exact moment that Tan Yuanchun grasped at Yu Ai’s bicep to stop him, Shen Qiao got off the stool and turned around sharply to face his sworn brothers.

“Yu Ai, that’s enough. There are people watching.”

He’d called him by his full name, Yu Ai noticed with a grimace. He didn’t think it would sting this much.

“Ah-Qiao…” Yu Ai seemed relieved that Shen Qiao was at least talking to him, and after sending another dark glare at Yan Wushi for good measure, he suggested in a softer tone as if any sudden or loud noise would scare Shen Qiao away again, “let’s find somewhere quieter. I’ve been meaning to talk to you since…since you quit your job.”

Shen Qiao raised his brows at the painfully awkward pause but said nothing.

“Ah-Qiao, for Tan-dage’s sake, will you hear Ah-Ai out just this once?” Tan Yuanchun opened his mouth for the first time that night, and Shen Qiao couldn’t say no to the benign face of his elder sworn brother.

“Please excuse us for a moment, Yan-dangjia.”

“Of course,” Yan Wushi didn’t even turn to see them go.

“Hengbo, are there any available spare rooms in the VIP area tonight?” Yu Ai called over to Gu Hengbo, who’d been furtively listening in on their conversation as she pretended to mix drinks for patrons.

“Sure,” Gu Hengbo only tripped over her own feet a little when Yu Ai unexpectedly summoned her. “Follow me.”

The music was entirely shut out by the soundproof walls of the private room, in which Shen Qiao had sat down on one end of the lush cushioned bench and Yu Ai and Tan Yuanchun had perched on the one that was set perpendicular.

Shen Qiao looked over at Yu Ai expectantly.

From this single expression, Yu Ai knew he’d been found out and that there was no use in covering up anymore, but it was still incredibly difficult for him to start, so he began with small talks, which he knew Shen Qiao hated.

“H-how have you been holding up? If you’re having financial troubles, I can—”

Shen Qiao’s usually warm brown eyes hardened into cold sepia behind the icy glare of his lenses.

“If you’re that concerned about my wellbeing, then why did you do what you did in the first place?” Shen Qiao demanded. He never demanded anything of anyone – he asked, prodded, requested – but he didn’t like forcing answers out of others unless he was desperate, and right now, he was desperate – frantic and forlorn for the answer that he somehow knew he wouldn’t get from Yu Ai.

He didn’t wait for Yu Ai to confirm his suspicion, and with a sad smile brimming with thick, heavy disappointment that was almost tangible in the air, Shen Qiao said, “it was you, wasn’t it?”

Yu Ai inhaled sharply but didn’t have the heart to deny it.

“You doped my drink that night under the pretense of wanting to have a confidential chat with me about your crush on some woman working under you, when all you wanted was for me to fall unconscious so you can hand me over to Sang Jingxing like a wrapped gift. And for what? Money? A higher position within He Huan Group? What is it? What did Sang Jingxing and Yuan Xiuxiu offer you that made you decide to betray father’s trust… my trust?”

At the end of his rant, Shen Qiao was exhausted, the ice in his eyes melted into nothing but a muddy puddle of confusion, the strength leaving him as suddenly as the heat of frustration had struck just a moment earlier.

“I didn’t mean for the whole thing to go so far,” Yu Ai said weakly, his gaze downcast as he continued in a listless whisper, “Sang Jingxing… that sonovabitch went too far; he wasn’t supposed to hurt you. The initial plan was to just keep you imprisoned, give you a scare, make you reconsider your position…”

“My position…?” Shen Qiao’s brows gathered into a bewildered frown.

“Xuan Du Group needs a leader; we need you. Yet you keep dodging your responsibilities by detaching yourself from Xuan Du, pretending to live amongst civilians like you’re better than the rest of us.”

“I don’t —” Shen Qiao was startled by the raw animosity in Yu Ai’s voice, the bitter scorn etched so agonizingly obvious and real on his face. Had Yu Ai always thought of him this way? Shen Qiao was torn in pondering between this hidden side of Yu Ai and the equally true state of Yu Ai breaking his trust, even if his intention had not been as malevolent as Shen Qiao had initially thought. He just didn’t understand why Yu Ai had to go through such farce to get them here.

“It doesn’t matter now, Ah-Qiao,” Yu Ai said with a resigned exhale, and he glanced up to see the younger man staring at him with wide, lost eyes. He thought maybe he’d finally found the metaphoric chink in Shen Qiao’s always immaculate and perfect armor, and Yu Ai was not one to waste opportunities. “What matters is that you come back to Xuan Du with us. Qi-dangjia, the elders, and all the younger members will be so happy to welcome you back with open arms as their young master.”

Shen Qiao shook his head slowly but firmly; though disbelief was evident on his pale face, it didn’t erase the lucidity that still dominated his mind.

“Xuan Du has father, and father has you and Tan-dage. Hengbo, too. She’s becoming very good at managing Indigo Palace, so father should feel confident to gradually let her handle Xuan Du’s other affairs.”

“But none of us is the true heir of Xuan Du,” Yu Ai said, a sliver of impatience was slipping into his voice. “Qi-dangjia had always wanted you to be his successor eventually, despite the free reigns he gives you, but you wouldn’t quit your civilian job and we’re running out of time, so I figure…”

Yu Ai swallowed hard, and he wished he had something to drink to rid of the lump in his throat, but he pushed on, “I figure we’ve got to do something to force you to quit and rejoin Xuan Du before Qi-dangjia’s condition gets any worse…”

“Father’s condition…? What do you mean?” Shen Qiao cut in with widened eyes. “The last time I went back home…”

The last time Shen Qiao had went back for a visit, Qi Fengge had been taking more medications than Shen Qiao had last remembered, and he’d asked his adoptive father about it, to which the leader of Xuan Du only replied with a tired but genuine smile, “ah, it’s nothing a few more pills and a strict diet won’t fix. You know how it is – it’s the fun part of getting old.”

“I didn’t realize…” Shen Qiao murmured, eyes darkening and fingers gathered into fists partly from remorse of not noticing the gravity of Qi Fengge’s worsening condition sooner and partly from fury that nobody had thought to let him know.

“Qi-dangjia instructed us to not tell you,” Tan Yuanchun said, “he didn’t want to worry you.”

“Do you even know what’s happening within the inner circle of Xuan Du Group right now?” Yu Ai asked with a tense mutter, but the volume of his voice only increased with intensity from there. “The elders are shitting themselves because the group’s losing money, and they’re saying Qi-dangjia is the one to blame for running the organization like it was still the good, old golden days. Now that some of them are aware of his deteriorating condition, they’re going to find any damn excuse to kick Qi-dangjia out of the leader’s seat. Are you going to let those old dogs do that to your father? After all Qi-dangjia has done for you, do you have the heart to leave Xuan Du the way it is now?”

With his chest still heaving from the outburst, Yu Ai could hear the crevices in Shen Qiao’s armor crackling and multiplying, the gashes widening and seeping blood.

“I—” Shen Qiao rose halfway from his seat.

And then the door to the private room swung open.

“Do you enjoy teasing me by keeping me waiting, Ah-Qiao?”

#qian qiu #thousand autumns #shan he jian xin #yanshen #bowie's crappy writing

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byima · 3 years

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California Dreaming pt 4

I shared this on AO3 half a month ago and I’m just getting around to cross posting for the tumblr folks and you can read the full story here.

Lunch was a boisterous event. They ate at, or commandeered depending on who was asked, an Italian restaurant in the city of Berkeley. Everyone was there; Frank, Hazel, Nico, Grover, Silena, Beckendorf, Travis, Connor, Katie, Rachel, Jason, Piper, and Leo. Remi was there too, and so was Annabeth’s dad and her stepmom and half-brothers, who were in town because of her own commencement which had been the day before, and so was Frank’s grandmother. The restaurant was cozy, it smelt heavenly; 70’s and 80’s music buzzed through the speakers, friendly staff flitted between tables. Their group was two tables strong, too loud, too rowdy and it was one of few times the whole commencement weekend that Annabeth felt overwhelmed but energized by that feeling, rather than drained.

“No Charlie, this is the perfect time! We can rent a van–”

“Yup, just picture it man, tearing down the roads, stopping wherever we want, camping out during the nights–”

Silena grimaced, and Charles laughed at her expression. She and Travis had been trying to convince Charles and Katie to take a west coast road trip: from northern California to Nevada, then Utah, then Arizona and then down to southern California.

“I’ll be down, if we do this without a single hotel stay.” From Charles. Who was next to Paul, who was next to Sally, who was across from Percy.

“Two hotel stays.” From Silena, next to Charles. She was in full negotiation mode.

Estelle, on Sally’s other side, ducked under the table to retrieve the errant crayon she’d been using to color her kid’s menu. Through the aged speakers, Dexys Midnight Runners chorused, ‘Too-ra loo-ra too-ra loo-rye-ayyyyyyy,’ and the space hummed with a spicy-herb/heavy-sauce fragrance and music and laughter and liveliness.

“Nah Silena, if we’re doing this, we’re doing this for real.” From Travis, a few seats to Percy’s right.

Grover, on Percy’s direct right, finally found the image on his mostly unused, worse-for-wear Nokia brick of a phone. He held up the battered screen to Percy’s face. “This is it. See the name on that wrapper? I need to find this place and try their samosas–”

“Explain to me how staying in a hotel would make this ‘not real’ Travis.”

He raised his slice of buttered bread to his mouth. “I’m just talking about getting the most experiential of experiences–”

“And I’m talking about having semi-regular shower access–” Silena leaned towards the Stoll brother sitting across from her to emphasize her point.

“And apparently the locals have nicknamed the San Francisco fog Karl.” A fun fact from Paul.

“Is that so?” Piper encouraged him with a broad grin.

She got an under the table kick from Annabeth for that one.

At the other table, Frank’s grandmother held her new smartphone for Leo to see.

“Don’t do it for me, show me how so I can do it myself.”

“Er, sorry, Grandma Zhang you just- you have to… here-”

“No, I said show me, and now you’ve done something else, Valdez!”

“I know, but I’m trying to show you how to go back without a back button,” Leo ran an agitated hand through his curls.

Travis leaned forward too, matching Silena’s energy, bitten bread slice brandished. “You’re weak. And I’ve outgrown you.”

Charles was laughing again. Hard. Like struggling to breathe belly laughing.

“Why is Beckendorf having a conniption?” Piper’s voice carried from the other end of the table.

Katie answered. “Travis is back to quoting The Incredible’s.”

Connor was losing it, too. “My man Beckendorf has caught every single one of them.”

“Name a better Disney movie–”

“I’ve already named one. Mulan. And– Travis, I’m serious, we’ll watch it tonight and it'll shut you right up-”

“Katie, Katie, Katie…” Travis shook his head in pity. “You can’t admit defeat, huh? I saw you last night, trying to act like you weren’t hyped during the family fight scenes-”

Silena smacked her hand impatiently on the table. “Travis, can you, for just one moment, stay with me? You were supposed to be on my side.”

“And I was. I am.” He leveled an accusatory finger at her face. “But you’re a wuss if you can’t survive one road trip without hotel amenities.”

“You’re full of shit, Trav.” Back to Katie, sitting between Grover and Travis.

There was a minor uproar.

“Hey hey hey, watch your mouth young lady there are children present–”

“Don’t forget the children–”

Connor and Travis. They are the uproar.

“Percy says that word a lot. So, I know it’s a bad word.” Estelle looked at her brother, then Connor, as she sold the former out.

There were a couple “oooo’s” from the friends gathered and Percy shook his head at the betrayal, hand on his chest because, alas, he’s Caesar, and Brutus has two pigtails and missing teeth.

Estelle, loving the reaction of the masses and her moment in the spotlight, added, “So does my mom.”

The entire table erupted in a chorus of “OOOOOOOO’S” and Paul looked at Sally, a little baffled and overwhelmed and amused because how else could he feel in such a setting?

“Sally Jackson, patron saint of motherhood–”

“Despite the utter disappointment that is her first born–”

“You’ve been called out, ma’am, how do you respond?”

Sally covered Estelle’s ears. “Fuck off. All of you.” A thespian response from the “saint” herself.

The large party collectively lost it, roaring laughter carried through the restaurant, other patrons looked around to spot the source of the ruckus.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Sally Jackson-Blofis–”

“She’s quick, she’s gritty, and she’s straight from New York City–”

“I think that’s us.” Grover’s eyes followed his nose, which picked up on the savory scent of freshly prepared food being brought near to them. A united cheer drew attention, once again, to the celebrating group.

“You guys are gonna get us kicked out before we can even take a bite.” Frank made accidental eye contact with a frowning restaurant-goer.

Waitstaff arrived at their tables with black trays laden with the steaming, heavenly smelling bounty.

The young woman who’d taken their orders earlier gestured to the guy accompanying her.

“Alright everyone, this is Gio, he’s gonna take over for me since my shift is ending.” There were some noises of disappointment and she playfully hushed the table of spirited demigods. She set a plate of spaghetti with meatballs in front of Estelle and a baked chicken parmesan dish in front of Sally, gently warning the child that her plate would be hot.

Gio waved hello before he started distributing ordered dish to orderer. “Nani told me we have some graduates here today…”

-----

“So Italians will actually eat it like… this.” Nico demonstrated to Jason.

“Like this?”

“Yeah…”

“Really?”

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you.”

Percy nodded at Annabeth’s dish. “How is it?”

“It’s so good. You wanna try?”

Annabeth was already twirling her fork into the pasta, and she speared a piece of shrimp on the end before raising the bite to Percy’s waiting mouth. His eyes rolled back and he made a low noise as he slowly chewed.

Her eyes danced. “I don’t think it was that good.”

He shook his head in disagreement. “Lemme have some of yours. And you can have some of my pizza.”

“I don’t want your pizza.”

“You do. This is what they mean when they talk about the best of both worlds.” Percy tried forking a portion of her food from her full plate to his and she stopped him, doing it herself before he made a mess of both of them with his clumsy portioning.

“And then I give you some of mine…”

Annabeth felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned from watching Percy lower a slice of his pizza (which was actually heavy with cheese and red sauce and phenomenal tasting) to look at her dad who was seated behind her at the table running parallel to theirs.

“How does it feel to be finally done? Both of you, graduated and diploma’d.”

Dr. Chase had been on cloud nine the whole weekend. His daughter had graduated from the best public university in the country. What else would you expect from the academia-loving dad? But the last five years had been pivotal for their relationship, too. When Annabeth looked at her father, really looked at him, she saw the sadness edging his expression. Because he knew, as she closed this chapter of her life, she would begin another, and he would lose her to the east coast. So she’s been gentle with him, and maybe with herself too this weekend.

“I took my last final on Friday, so it doesn’t feel real yet.”

She lowered her fork and looked to Percy for his response to see him shaking his head.

“Nah. I’ve been checked out for weeks now. Barely held on till the end.”

“He’s lying, dad. Percy’s been emotional all week.”

“I’m sorry to have missed the ceremony at your school.”

Percy had just taken a bite of his pizza and his eyes went wide when he realized Frederick was waiting for a reply from him.

Annabeth responded on his behalf. “Trust me, Dad. His ceremony was just like any other graduation ceremony. Too much sun, a boring speaker, and two seconds to cheer for the person you care about.”

“Dude, Annabeth gets it.” This was from Bobby, who was sitting across from his father. “Why did they have to do two graduations for you?”

“One was for everybody, which was like, over 6,000 people. And then the other was specifically for my department.”

It was a little hard to hear them over the clinking of silverware against ceramic dishes and Rachel and Remi’s loud debate over traditional versus digital art, so Annabeth turned in her chair to face her family.

“Nobody needs to come to our high school graduation if it's gonna be this much of a drag.” Matthew said this with resolve.

“I think you’ll feel differently about things when the time comes.” From her stepmom, Helen.

“This is how graduations and commencements work.” Frederick Chase picked up his fork to resume eating his pesto pasta dish. “You spend years working hard, pushing through to the finish, shouldering through challenges and all of life’s obstacles, and then the day comes–”

“Oooooo… And then the day comes…”

“Dun dun DUUUNN! Dad, you make it sound so dramatic.” Matthew and Bobby snickered.

“It is dramatic.” He waved his fork like a baton. “When you’re graduating, you are the star of the moment, the center of the universe, just temporarily, and all of us will do our best to show up for you in the biggest way we can.” His brown eyes twinkled and Annabeth felt herself blushing at the warmth focused on her. “We all will bear through ceremony after ceremony if that means we get to celebrate your accomplishment.”

Annabeth thought about the hug her dad had wrapped her in yesterday morning, long and tight, and the way that squeeze said a million things other than ‘congratulations.’ And Sally in the car earlier today…

“Trust me guys, you don’t wanna be the person with no family at your graduation.” Piper turned from her conversation with Connor to give her two-cents.

“You were that person?”

“Yup. Eighth grade promotion. Me and a disgruntled nanny. As if junior high wasn’t bad enough.”

“Gonna have to agree with McLean here,” Rachel chimed in.

“Not to be the girl who complains about having a big family–”

“I’m betting you’re about to be that girl who complains about having a big family–”

“–but there’s nothing like having your aunt screaming on the phone in the middle of your high school graduation, simultaneously cursing out and giving parking directions to your tardy cousin.” Remi offered with a shrug.

Rachel and Remi argued the pros and cons of large heavily involved families, versus small, absentee ones. Frank coaxed his grandmother into trying the “too expensive” Italian cuisine. Travis and Katie were trying to out-embarrass each other with old camp stories. There were a million conversations happening at once.

“Jason, can I get the parmesan?”

“I feel like you have room for one more meatball in your mouth, kiddo-”

“Connor, I’m starting to regret allowing you next to my daughter.”

Sally held a napkin before Estelle’s mouth and the girl reluctantly ejected three soggy meatballs.

“So we pretty much knew Hazel was lactose intolerant at that point-”

“Severely lactose intolerant-”

And a million memories, so many silly, significant snapshots; Annabeth found herself wishing she hadn’t left Percy’s camera under the driver's seat of the rental.

“I’m never doing anything or going anywhere with you that has anything to do with Italy.”

“So we’re doing it?! This road trip is happening?”

“Does anyone need some more water here?”

“Lemme have some of your Bolognese-”

Annabeth startled. She’d been playing with the simple pendant that hung just below her collarbones when she felt Percy’s hand touch the crease of her elbow.

He had red sauce on his chin. And food crumbs on his upper lip. And all he did was lower their joined hands beneath the table and ask.

“What's going on in there?”

She rubbed her thumb into the first knuckle of his middle finger, gray eyes still intently consuming the surrounding scene; then her eyes met his and she saw understanding.

She tried explaining anyway, “I don’t want to forget… I want to- to be in this moment, you know? Or… I just- I wish I could-”

She pressed her lips shut and smiled ruefully, a little embarrassed by her abysmal attempt at the English language.

“Yeah. Same.” He squeezed her hand. “Yeah.”

------

They were outside. In front of the antique looking benches that flanked the restaurant’s double door entryway. Annabeth was going to stay in Berkeley with her family for the rest of the afternoon and Percy would head back to New Rome with his family. For now, they stood together, waiting for Matthew and Bobby who were in the restroom, preventing the Chase’s departure.

Annabeth planted her hands on her lower back and stretched her spine. “You’re very… confident today.”

“Am I?”

“Mmhm.” She leaned closer to him. “It’s like you’re… aware that people are watching. All day, all of these eyes have been on you and you’ve been very okay with it.” Even now, she noticed, in his slacks and dress shoes and his light blue short sleeve button up, he was handsome, cleaned up and groomed and plain-as-day attractive and definitely drawing attention standing as they were, in view of all the passer-byers. Yet he was comfortable. Confident.

He shrugged, because he didn’t know how else to react to her keen observation. She read him so intimately.

She was still reading him, and she could see traces of that self consciousness that had been missing all day creep into his body language.

“Did I kill your mojo?”

If he’d been confident all day, then she’d been radiant all weekend. They’d spent the week, Monday through Friday, stressed, all over the place, sleeping odd hours and meeting up to study or cry (the tears were from Annabeth, Percy was a zombie at that point) just trying to get through finals week so they could actually graduate. And then the weekend had come and family had arrived and there were graduation ceremonies and baccalaureates and dinners with parents and dress shoes and dresses that made Percy want to carry Annabeth off to a beach and fucking frolic in the fucking sand. But he couldn’t, there wasn’t any time to frolic or marvel or drink to the last five years of their lives. So they bounced from ceremony to ceremony. And she’d been absolutely radiant throughout, walking across the stage during her graduation Saturday morning, receiving special honors from her department. Running toward him this Sunday morning, wrapping herself around him and confirming that he had in fact done this, he was in fact finished with school. He’s so grateful for her. In awe of her. He couldn’t imagine doing this without her. It was incredible to do this with her. She pierced his heart like a sweet note of his favorite song and he felt her in his bones. There was so much going on, and it was good, all of it was so good, and here she was, here he was, and he missed her. Annabeth Chase, mojo murderer.

“Yes.” He cupped her face and kissed her quickly, she didn't even have time to react. “No. Now I’m overthinking, like, everything though. Bobby is coming out.” He jerked his chin at something behind her. “I think your fam is ready to leave.”

She glanced back at them with a frown. “That was supposed to be a compliment, Jackson.”

“Your dad is looking at me like he wants to say something.” Percy insistently tugged her arm and turned her around. “Please go with them before he does.”

She pulled her arm free and walked backwards, pointing at him for emphasis as the space between them grows.

“Keep the confidence, okay? I’ll see you at dinner?”

He pointed back at her. "I'll see you at dinner."

#mypjofic #percy jackon and the olympians #percy and annabeth #percabeth #california dreaming #trying to motivate to myself to finish the last part #by looking at the most recent chapter #one more and done

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ootori-sibs · 3 years

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Chores

Sorry it's so short

Day four is @ohshc-week : gift giving or living together

The hosts had decided that while they were in university, they were going to rent a house together, and 'live like commoners'. At least that was how Tamaki had put it, Haruhi had insisted that they were doing no such thing, they still had bottomless bank accounts and could actually afford rent. This had definitely made most of the hosts sulk for a bit, namely Tamaki and the twins.

They'd all come into their own, they were living in America now, so it was hard for anything to get back to any of the boys' parents. So, with their new found freedom, the hosts had really begun to find who they were- or at least we're experimenting. Not all of it was good however.

"Who's whiskey is this!?" It was Tamaki's turn to take out the trash, and it seemed he'd found yet another bottle, for the third time in a row. Most of the hosts were sitting in the kitchen, though Honey was upstairs taking a nap, and Kyoya was… god knows where. They all looked between each other, Mori was sat at the breakfast bar and enjoying a milkshake, the twins were sat on the carpet near the TV, doing their homework, and Haruhi was rewatching legally blonde.

Hikaru looked up from his sketches, rolling his eyes, "probably Kyoya's, it was his last time wasn't it?" Well, Hikaru wasn't wrong, the last two times a bottle had been found in the trash, it had belonged to Kyoya- his brother kept buying him drinks. Oh yeah, that was another detail, Akito was also here, he lived on campus, though that didn't stop him from coming and bothering them every now and then. For some reason he decided it was his mission to give Kyoya a social life, and that included buying him alcohol for some reason.

"Oh no, that one's mine," Kaoru spoke up, causing everyone to glance at him in confusion, he shrugged, "Kyoya gave me the bottle, he said he didn't want it."

"Well that's good," Tamaki started, tying the bag closed, "if it was Kyoya's again then I'd have to have a word with him, or maybe I should have had a word with Akito, it is his fault after all."

Hikaru scoffed at that, "yeah, good luck boss, I wouldn't threaten the guy with a nail bat." To be fair, Hikaru had a point; not only did Akito have quite the deadly weapon, but he was known to have the worst anger issues of all the siblings- though Kyoya had given him a run for his money in later years.

Tamaki had to concede that Hikaru was right, there's no way he'd object to anything Akito did, the guy was too scary. He just sighed, heading to put the trash in the bin. It was a warm day, and he felt the sun on his arms. A glance down the stress saw a couple of folks sitting in their doorways, just enjoying the sun- the glance also told him that Kyoya was returning, just heading down the street with his bags. He sighed, waving, "Hiya Kyoya, where've you been?"

"Ugh," Kyoya seemed exhausted, wearing his brother's jacket and literally no shoes, "Akito dragged me to a party, even though he knew I had a class this morning. I just had to attend class, with no shoes."

Tamaki paused, tilting his head slightly, "where are your shoes?"

"I have no idea, I had them on when I fell asleep. I'm fairly sure someone stole them." He rolls his eyes, "has anyone made breakfast?"

"Kyoya, it's midday…"

"Lunch then, I just had a class, I have no concept of time, I just want to eat something and go back to sleep." He huffed, pushing past Tamaki to enter the house, ignoring the other hosts in favour of heading towards the stairs.

"It's your turn to cook dinner tonight, don't forget."

"If I'm awake in time then sure, otherwise let Haruhi do it." He rolls his eyes, storming up the stairs.

Tamaki sighs, sitting down, "alright, who wants to wake him up later?"

"Not it!" Was the almost unanimous reply, clearly it was Tamaki's job. But he had a trump card he had yet to play:

"I have a class then, I can't."

The reaction from the others was instant dread, realising they'd actually have to decide who had to do it- instead of leaving the duty up to Tamaki like was the usual plan. Tamaki had to grin at that, he didn't enjoy his classes, but they were a hell of a lot better than waking Kyoya up. Haruhi sighed, running a hand through her hair, "well I've got homework to do anyway, so you'll have to wake him." She shrugged, ignoring the twins questions of why she couldn't do her homework now.

Mori stood up, checking the time on his phone, "got class." He let them know where he was going before grabbing his bag and coat, taking his milkshake with him. He left, locking the door behind him, which was unfortunate for Hikaru, who had lost his key and was now unable to leave.

Haruhi had to make lunch, she'd just made some slices with the leftover stew from last night, she rolled out her premade pastry, tucking the stew inside like making a bed, adding a little pastry flower on Tamaki's and a rabbit on Honey's, it made them both very happy when she did so, though the others were a little too mature for such things. She did add a bit of chili powder to Kyoya's, heaven knows he likes spicy things. She put his back in the fridge once it was done, he could microwave it when he wanted it. She served it with the usual sauces, and some coffee. She had the way they all had coffee memorized, and the way they liked their pie.

Tamaki was always the first to grab his coffee with caramel and his pie with the flower, he never added sauce- he claimed the flavour was enough on its own. Then came the twins; Kaoru with his black coffee and pie with red sauce, and Hikaru with his one sugar and his mix of red and brown- they always ended up sharing the sauce though. Honey had woken up from his nap by now, grabbing his extremely sweet coffee- four sugars, Haruhi didn't think it was healthy, but who was she to argue? His pie was the one with the bunny on it, he liked to have it with mustard, which was strange considering his love of sweet things, but she couldn't blame him; it was really good.

Haruhi herself had it with a bit of ketchup, and her coffee only had one sugar, she sat at the breakfast bar to eat it and watch the TV from where she was sitting. She had to analyse a fake murder case for her homework, Kyoya had agreed to help her in return for not having to spend time with his brother, she'd figured that was a good enough deal. It was Kyoya's turn to cook, and then he and Tamaki would go over the rent and bills they had to pay, as Tamaki had refused to hire an accountant- he thought it would be fun to live like commoners.

When the night came, and all the bills were paid, Kyoya and Haruhi sat in the living room, going over the paperwork she'd gotten from her professor. The room still smelled of garlic from the pasta Kyoya had made them all, the twins were washing the dishes. Honey sat at the breakfast bar, eating some cookies, he was supposed to be grabbing snacks for him and Mori to study with, but he'd decided to have a couple for himself before heading upstairs again. Tamaki had gone to bed early, considering he had a class very early the next morning, Kyoya had made a batch of his extremely caffeinated pudding for him, for a during lesson, before breakfast snack.

The sun rose before she went to sleep, starling both her and Kyoya as it came through the window. "Oh fuck, what time is it?"

"Time to start making breakfast." Kyoya had shrugged, standing up as he headed over to the kitchen, opening the fridge with a sigh.

"But it's nowhere near the time where anyone wakes up?"

Kyoya took out some eggs and cream, grabbing a bowl, "it'll take a few hours to make the egg pudding, I might make some bread too."

Haruhi paused, frowning and going to sit at the bar, "where did you even learn how to make all this stuff?"

"Oh, well a mix of Fiyumi when she was fixated on learning how to do wife things, and watching the cooks because there was nothing to do when I was a kid." Kyoya responded bluntly, cracking the eggs into a bowl.

Haruhi had decided to go to bed, she had no classes today so she was happy to sleep until she felt better- though she was woken up by the gang getting up and being increasingly loud in the face of breakfast. She had to come downstairs to tell them to shut the hell up.

#ohshcweek #kyoya ootori #tamaki souh #hikaru and kaoru #takashi morinozuka #mitsukuni haninozuka #haruhi fujioka #aktio ootori #(mentioned)

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onyourzeus · 4 years

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raining | kyh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: raining pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: fluff, fictional universe words: 4.4k

was listening to this playlist while writing. author’s note: overwhelmingly cliche, like kdrama levels of it. be forewarned. i am in my youngk feelings tonight, folks. i just wanted to write something sickeningly cute & i think i achieved it lol. do enjoy, regardless.

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

The moment you step outside the door, you immediately regret it. You were never one to love the cold, you actually welcome it— but when signs of heavy rain are bound to happen within the hour or so it’s not advisable for anyone to enjoy a walk outside.

You pull on the ends of your sweaters even more, keeping the tips of your fingers enclosed in the warmth of the fabric. A slight yet wintry breeze whispers against your ear and you shiver involuntarily. It was a win-win situation to cover your head with the hoodie as your hair had seen better days before, and it keeps you extra protected from the cold.

The convenience store was a mere ten to fifteen walk from your street, it shouldn’t be a big deal. So here you are, shuddering in house clothes, trudging your way to the nearest mart to snag yourself a cup of noodles or two, and maybe buy a drink to keep you toasty on the way back.

Hands tucked in between your sides, you briskly make your way to your destination. At eight in the evening on a weeknight, there seems to be a couple of people enjoying a chilly stroll outside.

Well, the only difference is that they’re all dressed for the occasion: thick coats, thicker scarves, and an overwhelming sense of excitement for this weather.

“They better go home soon before it starts to rain,” you mumble under your breath, costing a fog to escape in front of you. It looks nice, though, that they have one or another person accompanying them tonight. Some with hands held tight and others just comfortably walking side by side.

The sudden chattering of your teeth makes you question your bitter sentiment. You decide not to think about it any further as you approach the blinding lights of the convenience store.

Pushing the door open with some elbow grease (they really need to replace that), you’re welcomed with a whiff of plastic packaged items, coffee brewing on the side, and the silent hum of cash registers at the front.

You’re starting to feel the heat of the inside replace your slight shivering, but you ought to keep the hood on and make the trip as fast as possible.

Walking towards the ramen aisle, your eyes widen at the sheer possibilities of microwavable meals you can have tonight: curry-flavored, spicy seafood, extra hot with three Xs, it’s shameful that you find these all so appealing.

Before your mouth waters embarrassingly, you grab three cups of your choice and cradle them in one hand securely. Moving over to the chilled section, you check the price of a small container of kimchi to see if you’re lucky enough to spice up your dinner for tonight.

Unfortunately, you don’t think it fits your budget, recalling that you just grabbed a couple of coins from the counter before leaving the apartment.

Somehow, while being preoccupied by the fact that you can’t have any kimchi, your head collides against someone’s back. In the most awkward encounter that can happen, cups of noodles drop on the floor. Your hoodie falls off your head, revealing the hair you’re trying to keep away from the public.

With heated cheeks, you apologize profusely to this person’s back, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking!” You don’t even wait for them to turn around as you quickly bend down and grab your items.

He picks them up before you do.

You get a glimpse of him in the seconds he’s bent down; his hair parted in the middle with a little curl to them, roots are dark brown but everything else of a faded grey, his thick brown coat nicely shaping his shoulders, and as he slowly stand upright you have a clear view of a black turtleneck that hugs his neck perfectly, and his face—

“No worries, it happens,” he tells you casually, holding onto your dropped items. His eyes are slanted and yet you see gentleness in them. As he gives you a small smile, you notice his high cheekbones protruding from such graceful features.

The sudden warmth emanating from your thrift-store find sweater makes your face feel like it’s about to erupt from embarrassment. You scramble over to grab your cup of noodles from his grasp, grazing the skin on his hands. Even that sensation felt so soft for such a short period of interaction.

You do need to go out and see people more.

“T-thanks,” you manage to blurt out. From all the apparent staring you’ve done in the past minute or so, you find your eyes glued on the floor intensely.

“Excuse me…” you trail off almost inaudibly, but he gives you space in the aisle you’ve collided so you can stand in line for the register.

It felt like an eternity being face to face with him as people have formed a queue to pay already, but you will yourself not to look back. It was a… lucky accident?

If you can call it that— you still look like you haven’t unearthed yourself from your hermit cave for months. And him— well, to put it frankly, he just looked unreal to be sauntering his way at a local convenience store.

You shake your head, quickly pull up your hoodie once again and tighten the straps a little bit more forcefully this time.

It’s hard to hide the shame, but at least your hair will be out of sight again.

Impatiently, you tap your foot with the sound of the clock on the wall. Some problem of some kind with the scanner up front was causing the line to lag, and not to say so first-world problem-haver, but the less time you spend in here, the more time you can scream into your pillow back home.

A stretch of the neck, you look up, down, and side to side. On your left, your eyes catch something too familiar.

Something in the universe is clearly toying with you because as soon as you crane your head just a tad bit further, you find the same gorgeous man standing behind you. He’s looking somewhere else, eyes pointed in the distance and his lips pursed together in thought.

Why. Is He. So. Cute. Just standing there like that?

“Hi,” you see his lips move, voice low but friendly. “Your ramen alright there?”

“Me?” you squeak out. His eyes train themselves on you, and for a second he looks just as confused. But he comes back with a short laugh, and you feel like shrinking into dust.

But it doesn’t sound like he’s laughing at you, it wasn’t mean or said with a grimace at all.

He nods his head confirming your silly question and adds, “Yes, the ones you’re holding onto for dear life in there.”

“These?” you ask again, like a complete dysfunctional human machine. “Oh, um— yeah. They’re fine. Hahaha,” you reply and you sound nervous.

You shouldn’t be, he’s asking a legitimate question and you’re making it out to be like an interrogation! Snap out of it, reprimanding yourself in the head. This is not how you talk to people at all.

“Good.” He continues smiling at you, but his eyes shift elsewhere. Well, that’s probably your cue to stop this uncomfortable situation for yourself, and for his good as well.

But he’s still talking, and addressing you it seems.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hi, I can take your stuff right here, miss.”

“Yes, please! Thanks,” you hurry off to the front, out of breath and out of words left to speak.

There was no point to keep looking back, you’ve done your part acting the way you did. Maybe you should have just waited until tomorrow to get groceries, you would have benefitted from sleeping in earlier than showcasing how clumsy you can be to a complete stranger. (Not to mention someone your type.)

The employee speedily checks out your items and puts them in a paper bag. She asks if there was anything else you’d like, and you contemplate on the hot coffee that you wanted. You pull out the coins and one lone paper bill you had in your pockets to assess if it’s within your budget.

“Is this enough for what I got?” you lay out your change and then some on the counter. It may be your imagination, but it feels like the guy behind you is watching. You shift to the side slightly to hide the fact that you’re paying with coins.

She glances at your choice of payment, and says words that could literally be the cause of your death tonight. “I’m sorry, do you have an extra fifty cents? These would only pay for three of your cup noodles, miss.”

Robbed of one, already cheap choice of dinner tonight, her voice seemed to increase in volume revealing your insufficient amount of cash on hand to everyone in the store.

She watches as you blink your eyes tight, face squirming hard.

“It’s okay… I’ll just get those that I can pay for,” you respond meekly, and she nods. You don’t hear anything else anymore, maybe she was offering a coupon or whatever, you had one mission and one thing in mind only: get the hell out of there.

You take the paper bag, bow your head in thanks, and head out the door faster than you can realize that the rain had started pouring hard for what seemed like a few minutes prior.

Now your sweater is drenched, your paper bag is starting to crumble from the bottom, and you didn’t bring an umbrella.

Nor do you have any money or phone with you to call a cab to your apartment.

In an effort to keep some parts of you not wet, you keep to yourself just barely outside of the store where the roof is still hanging; just enough to cover half of your body from the pouring rain. It’s amazing, you think, what absolute god must you have angered for you to be stuck in something so stupid like this?

You can’t go back in the store, the guy is still there— suddenly you realize with a panic in your heart. He’ll see you here, right next to the door, waiting for the rain to stop once he exits out of the store.

Either way, he’ll recognize you, and to pity you or laugh at you secretly, it’s his choice now. It’s his right to, you wouldn’t care anymore.

Let the clown music reverberate in your ears, it’s an anthem you’d proudly sing amidst pouring rain.

With your thoughts seeming to come to life for the nth time, the door opens with an annoying chime, and as you look up it’s him, of course, it’s him.

But he’s not laughing nor does it look like he’s just going to avoid your sorry figure. He stands next to you, opens up his black umbrella at an arm’s reach and puts it over both your heads. His shoulders touch your wet sweater, and you’re inclined to move away but the umbrella can only cover a tiny area.

You hold in a breath, afraid when you exhale he’d see panic written all over your face.

“You okay?”

You nod, keeping your gaze forward, into the dim surroundings and the pitter patter of the night sky.

“Do you have any means of going home?” He asks again, and you’re sure he’s looking at you.

“I was planning on walking…” you finally quip, quiet and unsure of yourself. “Once the rain stops,” you let out a shaky breath. Frankly, you feel more stressed out than nervous at this point.

He doesn’t strike you as a man with malicious intent so far, and if he were to rob you right here right now, well — he should know, of all people in this store (aside from the cashier) that there’s nothing of value with you at the moment. You’re basically of no value as far as you can tell.

Sad.

“It doesn’t look like it’s stopping anytime soon,” he says, and you take a quick peek at him. He scans the surroundings, eyes focused and eyebrows knitted together. He looks back at you, and you’re frozen in place.

“Let me call a cab for you,” he tells you with concern.

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” you say frantically, dismissing him with one hand. The other was still holding the wet paper bag against your chest, and you feel it dampening your sweater each second that passes by. “I can just wait it out in the store.”

He continues to look at you as he pouts, and you stand there next to him feeling small. You appreciate his kindness, really, but you know a guy dressed like that has better places to be at and you’re here slowing him down.

“Honestly, it’s okay,” you try and ease his worries, but he doesn’t look convinced. “I live, like, fifteen minutes away. I have nothing else to do at home, so there’s no reason for me to be back so soon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you urge on, smiling at his politeness. “Besides, I don’t want to keep you here. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Nonsense. It should be the rain apologizing to us,” he says with a tsk.

You can’t help but giggle at his silly remark. He’s handling this stress-free while you haven’t stopped sweating since he stood beside you with the umbrella.

“How about this, I give you my umbrella—” you start to protest but he puts a finger up, coaxing you to bite your lip to keep it shut. “— so that you can walk home without getting rained on too much, and I’ll call myself a cab.”

It was a tempting offer, but not quite reasonable to you yet.

It’s the generosity he’s offering which shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, in fact, you should feel relieved. But your guard is still up, even if the rain isn’t letting up itself anytime soon.

If you keep declining him, who knows how much more patience he has to appease your feigning grandiose modesty?

“I’d pay for your cab if I had money with me right now,” you admit shyly. “Unless you’re comfortable with an online transfer, I’d have to know your information...” It was a stretch because maybe at that point you’d learn of his name, but you didn’t want to go too far.

“Don’t worry about me for a moment. You can take my umbrella, and I can take a cab. We get home safely, with one of us less drenched unfortunately, but everything will work out in the end. Deal?” His proposition sounds so firm and settled that you had no reason to deny him anymore.

So you relent, much to your own benefit, too. “Fine.”

He chuckles at your unintentional curt response. You correct yourself, “I mean— thank you, for the umbrella. Sorry, I was just stupid to go out without one, knowing it was gonna rain sooner than later.”

“Happens to the best of us,” he chuckles again while pulling something out of his own paper bag. You recognize it immediately, the cup noodles you had to let go of.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have—”

“There you go again, rejecting what I’m putting down here,” he chastises. “It would be a shame if,” he looks at the label before continuing, “Savory Shiitake Soup was left out unwillingly with his other cup noodle pals.”

You stop yourself from internally cringing at how he read it so slowly, as if he’s never had cup ramen in his life. You’d believe it, too, but then again he’s the one parading his sophisticated looks in a local store at a random town.

“I stick to the basic kinds,” he explains, seeing the meek surprise on your face.

It is almost twenty degrees out yet your body temperature is steaming hot. You admit defeat (to yourself) and open up the paper bag so he can put the cup inside. Secretly, you’re thankful the whole gang is in there which makes your stomach grumble all of a sudden. And he hears it.

“I take it, it's almost dinnertime,” he points out.

“Shut up,” you say, lips pouting. To a stranger.

He laughs at the bluntness. “It’s the perfect meal for a weather like this. If you have any eggs at home, I recommend cracking one in right before you eat it.”

“Yes!” You exclaim loudly, eyes shining with interest.

You’ve always done that with your ramen, albeit you hear of some people’s disgust over such a technique.

“I do have eggs at home, thank god, but I can’t believe you do it that way too,” you disclose. It makes the soup eggy and more creamy, what can you say?

“I add a drop of chili oil for added spice on mine, that really seals the deal for me,” you continue, feeling a little less uptight being next to him. However, the moment you uttered those words, his face grimaces for a second as he gulps and nods absently at you.

“You’re not a spicy guy yourself?” It comes out before you register what those words could mean otherwise.

He doesn’t catch it or at least, he doesn’t mind. He laughs again, and the gleeful contrast of his voice to the harsh rain is somewhat giving you warmth inside.

(And not the sweaty kind.)

“Not in regards to food, sadly no,” he says. “My friends tolerate it better than I do, so whenever I have the chance to cook for them I have to separate their portions if the recipe called for some kick to it.”

“You cook?”

“I try to,” he implies sheepishly, cheekbones turning up with the way he grins. It was endearing, watching him explain how it’s become a hobby of his for the past few months and that his roommates have benefited as a result.

All the food talk continues to make you hungrier, but the way he shares personal stories all of a sudden is a delightful experience for you. His eyes glint animatedly when he recalls the time when two of his friends fought over leftover bulgogi, in which he had no choice but to make some more. At two in the morning.

You listen intently, and laugh when he reaches the punchline and prideful banter about the people he seemed to deeply care about. It didn’t even matter how hard hitting the rain felt against the ground, you were actually covered quite expansively by the umbrella.

In return, you quickly notice that the side of his coat has been drenched all this time. Instinctively, you pull at the sleeve of his clothing, surprising him by the movement as you butt heads for a moment. It wasn’t hard, but it definitely paused the natural flow of conversation you two were having.

“You’ve had the umbrella mostly on me this whole time,” you chide almost regretting doing so, “Sorry.”

“It’s just clothes,” he chuckles upon realizing what just happened, but afterwards his smile returns. “Thanks for looking out for me, though.”

You feel yourself smiling too wide from that comment.

You think of something to say before you get too comfortable with this feeling, and then you remember: “You haven’t booked your way home yet.”

“Oh! You’re right,” he says a little too quickly, and you feel a twinge of disappointment weighting in your stomach at how fast he reacted to that.

Of course, at the end of the day, he’s just stuck with you due to some unlucky situation you found yourself in. He’s just doing you a favor.

He checks his phone for a few minutes, the light illuminating on his face. You notice the hard lines of his jaw and the curvature of his nose a bit more definitely now, and it’s amazing how one person can look like that.

This time, you reprimand yourself from staring too much and so you watch the people passing by again. Hand in hand, raincoats and umbrellas in their grasp as they fight against the current of the rain.

“Okay, I just finished booking it on the app. It says it should arrive in less than five minutes,” he brings you out of your reverie.

“That’s great to hear,” you say with as much enthusiasm as you can. You eye the handle of the umbrella in which his hand has been gripping all this time. You know you’re soon to be left with it, alone, as he rides the cab and finally part ways with you.

“I can keep holding on to this until it gets here,” he says, almost reading your mind. “I hope it is of good use to you tonight, and in the near future.”

“I’ll keep it safe and useful, of course,” you say, feeling the pit of your stomach get heavier and heavier. You’re not sure what it is, or you’re probably in denial. You start to count the seconds in your head, imagining how to tell him goodbye and perhaps… never seeing him again.

You don’t even know his name.

“I’m Younghyun— before I forget,” yet again, he hears the pleas in your mind and you ought to keep the thoughts silent as he suspiciously introduces himself.

“I’ve been exposing my friends’ and their ways of borderline gluttony to you, I haven’t even given you my name yet.”

Younghyun, you repeat in your head. Your lips curl upward at the sound of his name, it suits him well.

“Do you mind if I can get yours as well?” It was a polite question, nothing out of the ordinary of two people meeting each other for the first time.

But Younghyun seemed to have other, further plans from that. His phone is still on, and it’s facing in your direction. Looking down, you see that he has an unfilled out contact information on the screen.

“Oh,” you mumble out loud, not wanting for it to sound too pleasantly surprised. He takes it the other way, however, as he tries to retract his phone. “Sorry, I thought— I just wanted to know if you got home safely and—”

“No, please! It’s okay. I’d— um, I don’t have my phone on me right now but I can text my number if that’s alright with you,” you explain quickly before he can put it back in his pocket.

With an openly relieved expression, Younghyun changes the app to his messages and gives you his phone. You type in something easy to recognize in addition to your name on it, and send it to your number. Right as you give it back to him, a car with its headlights on park upfront, beaming the two of you with its brightness.

“I guess that’s my ride,” Younghyun hesitates. “I know it seems odd, but I really enjoyed talking to you despite…,” he finishes by looking at the puddle forming underneath where you both stand. You agree with a hearty laugh, the uneasiness you feel inside dissipating.

“Thank you, for the umbrella. And my cheap shiitake noodles,” you humor him, but your words are laced with sincerity.

He hands you the umbrella, enclosing his fingers over yours as you grip onto the handle tightly. His hand is just the right temperature, cozy and warm. It immediately sends your head reeling.

“Are you sure you don’t want to share the ride with me? I think I’ve proven enough to you that I’m just a beginner in the kitchen, and not an evil person,” Younghyun suggests. You nudge him just enough to tip him over the edge, playful and amicable on your end.

“I’ll text you, I promise. Is that good enough for you, Younghyun?” With the sound of his name coming from you, lips widen in the most cheerful grin he’s shared to you today.

If you’re being really honest with yourself, you feel a little special.

“You better stay true to your words.”

“Go home, Younghyun!”

You watch his ride pull out of the parking lot, and drive into the night. It’s funny because the rain went from hazardous conditions to gentle whispers of droplets which makes walking back home easier for you, probably even without an umbrella.

But you hold onto it tight, knowing that Younghyun had his hands on the same spot makes you squeal like a teenage girl on the way home. You walk faster than normal, pools of water on the pavement splashing at the ends of your sweatpants. It’s disgusting, you most likely need to change completely, but it was far from your concern.

You get home and head straight for your bed where your phone was, disregarding the drenched clothes you have on dripping on the sheets.

The text from Younghyun’s number came through, and inspecting further he texts you two more times.

You giggle, finally letting out giddy feelings where no one can judge you. You text him back.

And you think that’s the end for today, and you think of things to say for tomorrow that wouldn’t make you seem like you’re overstepping it. But your phone vibrates in your hand, and your eyes stare at his quick response.

Your heart pounds in your chest; it’s heavy, weighing down on you but for completely different reasons.

You plop down on your bed head first, pillow against your cheek. You actually do it, you scream. Not of what you thought you’d be doing, but the complete opposite.

Before you pass out in excitement, you manage a reply.

You do end up staying up late at night, eating your well deserved hot cup of noodles. But the laptop isn’t on, and you decide you can catch up on shows some other time.

You and Younghyun text the night away, it’s not awkward anymore. You feel yourself easing up to his banter through messages and gifs which you try to one up him every so often.

The rain had stopped sometime in the night, and instead your heart continued to pound heavily in your chest. It was exhilarating, to say the least, but you welcomed the feeling of having something to look forward to.

You remind yourself to not only do groceries tomorrow, but also do your laundry. (You never got to change into something more dry that night.)

#young k scenarios #young k imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #brian kang imagines #brian kang scenarios #young k x reader #young k au #day6 au #by:jiae

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therealmintedmango · 4 years

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30 Day Challenge Post

Hey everyone! I’m a little late to the game, but I am participating in a 30 writing challenge with @guktro, @cremeandsuga, @ksmuttherapy, & @minloop made by @uhmmmsweetie! I am very behind but I’m hopefully going to use this challenge to expand on a short drabble Cyberlife I made a little while ago. I always wanted to expand it into a full-blown story but (as most of you know) I have a billion and five WIPS I would like to wrap before making a new story! I thought this would sate my fingers and brain - for now!

Anyway here is the list so please enjoy!

GIF BANNER MADE BY: @guktro Thank you, my darling! He’s perfect! 🥰 Thank you for all your hard work!!~

1. A - Age. Do the otp+ plan on spending their lives together? How do they imagine their relationship years from now? READ HERE!

2. B - Bath. The otp+ share a bath or shower, or bathe as in swimming or sunbathing. READ HERE!

3. C - Commitment. How committed are the otp+? What do they promise to and expect from each other? How do they show their commitment to each other? READ HERE!

4. D - Dance. Do a little dance! Make a little love! Get down tonight! Whoo~! READ HERE!

5. E - Energy! A member of the otp+ is hyper or more hyper than usual. READ HERE!

6. F - Folklore. Write about your otp+ in a fairy or folk tale style. Or: the otp+ shares their favorite folk tales and urban legends. READ HERE!

7. G - Game. The otp+ play a game together. READ HERE!

8. H - Holiday. The otp+ celebrate a holiday or holiday weekend together. READ HERE!

9. I - If. Hypotheticals, uncertainties, worst and best case scenarios, you name it! READ HERE!

10. J - Just in case. The otp+ has all their bases covered. Or at least they think they do… READ HERE!

11. K - Kiss. Write a kissing scene of any kind! Get creative. 😚 READ HERE!

12. L - Looks. The otp+ share glances. READ HERE!

13. M - Muscles. The otp+ show off their muscles, or lack their of, flexing for their partner(s). READ HERE! (Sorry this is the same chapter as Day 12. I couldn’t think of anything! Sorry! Sorry!)

14. N - Nevermind. Whatever it was, it isn’t important anymore. READ HERE!

16. P - Past. The otp+ find something that reminds one or both/all of them of the past. READ HERE!

17. Q - Quote. A member of the otp+ remembers something their sweetie told them. It fills them with DETERMINATION! READ HERE!

18. R - Rain. Are the otp+ caught up in the bad weather, cozy inside, or are they somewhere like on a space ship or in the middle of the desert yearning for a good storm? READ HERE!

19. S - Smooth. A taste, texture, a pick up line. Anything as long as it’s smooth. READ HERE!

20. T - Token. Person A gives person B and/or C+ something of theirs. Or arcade tokens. Or both?? + 26. Z - Zoo. The otp+ spend some time observing and/or interacting with animals. ++ 27. & - the otp+ have multiple activities planned. Maybe too many. READ HERE!

21. U - Urban. The otp+ spends some time in a big city. + 28. ! - Surprise! Something unexpected happens. (Ex. A member of the otp+ shows up for a surprise visit) How does the otp+ react? READ HERE!

22. V - Vows. Write your otp+’s wedding vows or, if you prefer: love letters to each other. +23. W - Wish. Make a wish! ++ 25. Y - Yes. The otp+ or a member of the otp+ accepts a challenge, quest, request, etc. +++ 15. O - Our. In what ways do the otp+ share their lives? READ HERE!

29. ? - Time to clear things up! A member of the otp needs something explained. + 24. X - Xylophone. There aren’t many x words. READ HERE!....This will probably be spicy ;)

30. : - It’s Prompt: The Sequel. Write a second part to one of the previous prompts. READ HERE!

~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST DIRECTORY

#30 days of writing #cyberlife #park jimin x reader #android jimin #jimin x read #cyberlife drabbles #drabbles #writing challenge #mintedmango #therealmintedmango

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

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The Killer in Me || Ariana & Athena

TIMING: Evening of July 12th SUMMARY: Ariana and Athena go to Red Dragon for dinner. Some very truthful conversations happen and incorrect conclusions are drawn. PARTIES: @athenaquinn & @letsbenditlikebennett

Initially, Ariana had been worried she freaked Athena out with all the werewolf and hunter stuff. If it had been too much for her, Ari could hardly fault her. She was born into this and lately some of it was starting to feel like too much for her. Most mornings, it was easier to get up and face the day again, but every so often, a dream of Celeste would slip in and just make her want to cling to her blanket for the remainder of the day. Athena had become somewhat of a bright spot in the midst of the grief that kept trying to creep up from below the surface. The kids at camp were great and so filled with energy, but seeing Athena every day brought a certain amount of excitement. She was positive they’d been flirting, even when chatting online, but getting to see Athena with the kids often left her speechless with admiration. They all seemed to look up to her and how could they not? It was enchanting to watch and it only made her more eager for their night out together. She was pretty positive it was a date which only made her more excited. She’d even put some extra effort into curling her hair and even shot Blanche a photo of her outfit to make sure she wasn’t totally clashing. Normally, she didn’t mind too much, she could always attribute mismatching clothing to being colorblind, but she wanted to look nice tonight. This would be their first actual date and she wanted to impress. With confirmation from Blanche that her outfit was in fact worthy of a few fire emojis, she made her way to the Red Dragon to meet Athena. She spotted her from across the dining room and of course her hair was perfectly in place. She smiled and waved as she approached, taking the seat across from her. “Hey,” she said, smile beaming, “You look amazing. If you ever decide to share your hair care secrets, I’m 100% calling first dibs.”

She’d liked the time she spent with Ariana and she’d liked getting to know her. There was rarely a time when Athena felt as though she’d been equally matched in her soccer playing, and she thought that she’d found that with Ariana. So of course she had to go and be a werewolf. The reveal had been like a punch in the gut, and the fact that Athena didn’t want to kill her left her feeling the need to put even more hours into training and into solo runs. Ariana had told her so much all at once and had it only been everything other than the fact that she was a werewolf, Athena would have managed. If she allowed herself to think about it for more than a few seconds, she would have acknowledged that Ariana was pretty attractive too, and that her admission of liking Athena wasn’t as alarming as she knew her parents would have wished for it to be. Then Orion had gotten on her case about everything and that made Athena’s blood boil. Which meant that she was absolutely going to tell Ariana that they were both hunters. She didn’t know why she felt like she owed the girl honesty, but she did - and she was angry at her brother, which meant that if she had to lose a friend, she would mess things up for him as well. After all, she was a warden and he was a beast hunter. Ariana deserved to know that. Even if her brother wouldn’t even hurt a fly. So she’d dressed up nicely for the dinner - pulled her hair into a half ponytail, thrown on a purple dress and a nice pair of flats. She arrived early and grabbed a table, and was just paging through the menu when she spotted Ariana arriving and grinned. “Hey! You look great too.” I should just get this over with. Either version of this. “Thought I’d wear a dress that matched your hair, since not all of us can pull off the colored hair look.” She motioned for Ariana to sit down. “So, what are you thinking of ordering?”

There was no hiding the beaming look on Ariana’s face as Athena told her she looked great. Then Athena’s dress intentionally matched her hair which only somehow made her smile even wider. She wasn’t even sure how that was possible, but it left her with a floating feeling. A certain lightness she hadn’t ever remembered feeling before. It was a huge contrast to how the heaviness of loss that seemed to paint her day to day life since she’d lost Celeste. She quickly shook the thought. Tonight wasn’t about that. It was about spending time with a girl she admired and getting to know her better. She took the seat across from Athena and responded, “Thank you. I have to say, I did the whole hair and dress matching thing. It’s totally a look.” One that made them look cute… together. She could totally get behind that. At the mention of food, she realized she didn’t do her usual glance at the menu online before arriving, but she usually went for something with red meat no matter the establishment. Unless it was Veggie Tables or she was sharing with Layla. She glanced down at her menu and asked, “What do you recommend? I usually go for some sort of beef stir fry, but I’d love to hear what your favorites are.” She’d take note of them for the future. Maybe one of these days she could surprise her with a nice lunch or something. She worked so hard and did so much for others, it only seemed right someone should look out for her every once and awhile, too. She took in the atmosphere and appetizing smells of the restaurant. “It smells great in here. I can see why it’s one of your favorite spots. Definitely good for scheduled relaxation.” She said the last part somewhat teasingly before adding, “I’m really glad we’re doing this though. We haven’t really gotten the chance to hang out one on one since our run and I know everything I told you was a lot to unpack. I’m happy I didn’t totally scare you off or anything.”

If Ariana had only told her that she like-liked her, all of this would have been far easier. However, she’d told Athena that she was a werewolf and now Athena had to deal with that. Which was hard - admittedly even harder than when her parents had asked her to kill a former teacher. She could see the teacher’s body on the floor, feel her blood against her lips when her father had stepped in instead. She could see Ariana there, if she closed her eyes. Some twisted combination of that night and her and Rio’s eighteenth birthday. Athena shook her head, forcing herself out of the thoughts as she flashed Ariana another smile. “I dig it too, it’s a good look.” Maybe it was a mistake, but she didn’t want Ariana to go running before she had the chance to tell her everything. In a little while. At the other girl’s question Athena gave pause. “Well, the potstickers are famous for a reason. We could do chicken for that. My Little and I share them sometimes on study nights.” She thumbed through the menu, “any lo mein is good, but if you want a good stir fry I do know some folks who like the beef. I have to admit, they make a killer spicy green beans as far as sides go. Feel free to order anything you want, I’m paying, and it’s worth trying a few things. I sometimes do the sesame chicken. That is excellent, especially when I mix the spicy green beans in.” Despite everything, she had to grin at Ariana’s comment, “what better place, right?” She flipped her menu shut. “You know, I should probably start expecting things like this more often, given that I’m from this town. I am truly sorry about your sister - we don’t have to talk about it, but if - well, if there’s anything I can do to help honor her, let me know.” Not that you’ll want that after what I’m going to tell you, probably. It was the polite thing to offer, though. Fit very well with her ‘tutorial-perfect hair’ and practiced smile. “Don’t worry, takes a lot more than that to scare me off.” The waiter appeared by their table just then and Athena glanced over to Ariana. “Ready to order?”

As far as Ariana was concerned, it was a good sign that Athena liked matching with her. It gave her hope that maybe she found someone that she liked and was actually able to accept what she was. Not that she had really told any past crushes about what she was. Athena was different. For one, she somehow already knew about the supernatural. Not the most shocking thing for someone growing up in White Crest. Before moving here, there was no one she could have possibly told she was a werewolf without thinking she was insane. It was kind of freeing to like someone she could actually be herself around. She just smiled and agreed the look really did work for both of them. She listened closely as Athena told her all her favorites on the menu. Everything sounded delicious. “We could totally share the postickers. I like chicken, too,” she suggested and added, “Maybe some of those spicy green beans, too?” She found she was pretty hungry and everything Athena mentioned sounded delicious. The atmosphere was relaxing, too. Despite the hint of nerves that came with a first proper date, she found she was feeling more and more at ease. She rested her arms on the table and grinned, “No better place and no better company.” When the server came over, she asked for a Thai iced tea and some potstickers and green beans to share to start. Once he walked away, her full attention returned to Athena. “I don’t think anyone could ever expect half the stuff White Crest throws at them. Like even being in the know my whole life, there are some truly crazy things here… like the mimes. I still don’t get the mimes.” Her tone was a bit joking, trying to keep things light. Plus, the mimes were pretty ridiculous even if they were dangerous. The mention of Celeste caused her to look down at her hands momentarily. While it was easier to get through each day, it still felt like a huge piece of her was missing and she doubted that would ever truly go away. “Maybe one day we can do that. I have a little memorial tree for her-- I go and talk to her sometimes. Can’t really do anything to properly honor her since I can’t really tell everyone about it. I don’t know, I just… I keep trying to be someone she’d be proud of to honor her. Keep her alive in a way, I guess.” She stopped herself from going on about it too much. She didn’t quite feel like crying when they were supposed to be having a nice time together, “I do appreciate the offer. It’s incredibly sweet of you.” She contemplated reaching out to touch Athena’s hand, but she didn’t want to push or make her uncomfortable in any way.

I should have invited her to another run, just made this over and done with. The thoughts wouldn’t stop racing through Athena’s head. Coupled with the thoughts of what her parents would do if they knew that she was out to dinner with a werewolf. That she’d likely flirted online - halfway, but she hadn’t pulled away, and that would have perhaps been the worst part of it all. “I find chicken to be highly versatile when it comes to cooking. Yes, we can share both of those.” She wasn’t entirely sure how much she’d be eating anyhow - or when it was best to tell Ariana about her and her brother. He didn’t care about her anyhow, no matter how much she loved him. No matter what she did to keep him safe. She was born to help better the world and she was supposed to help keep her brother safe. He didn’t want that though, and she squeezed one of her hands into a fist, doing her best to regulate her breathing. If he didn’t want her to protect him, then she wouldn’t claim anything after she told Ariana what they were. Even if under most normal circumstances she would have thrown out a comment about how her brother shouldn’t have even counted as a hunter. “No better of anything.” Lips curved into a smile. With the server’s arrival she ordered a Thai iced tea as well - why not, after all? It’d give her something else to focus on, and she had to appreciate the fusion of cuisines that the Red Dragon had. “Nobody gets the mimes. Trust me. Lived here my whole life and I don’t get it.” Maybe bringing up the whole dead sister wasn’t the best way to go, but Athena had rarely been good at true sympathy, even if she did feel sick at the idea of another hunter dying. Even though she’d known other hunters who had died, it never felt any easier. “I think working to keep her alive in your own way is well worth it. The tree idea is nice - gives back to the world too, in a way,” just as she did, even if she adopted you - adopted a werewolf. She looked over to Ariana. “Thank you. I just figured it was the good thing to do.” I could even take some droplets of silver and put them in your food. You still could just deal with this without telling her. So why did Athena feel some sort of obligation to out herself? Luckily, the waiter arrived back with their teas just then and Athena grabbed hers and took a quick sip of it before placing it on the table. The waiter asked if they were ready to order and Athena gave a small shrug, before asking for the sesame chicken before she let Ariana order and sat back in her chair. “I’m super sorry if I’ve asked you this before - but do you think you’re in White Crest for the long haul? I know you’ve moved around some before now - but do you think you’ll stick around here?”

Ariana found that things with Athena just felt natural. As different as they were as people, they shared a lot of hobbies. It was a balance that she found made being with Athena so easy. It had taken the other girl a bit to process everything Ariana had told her, but she could hardly fault her for that. It was a lot. Most days, it still felt like too much for her to truly wrap her head around. Now that they’d both had some time and talked some more, everything just felt right. “I get that,” she answered truthfully, “Chicken pretty much tastes like how you season it. Makes it easy to pair with well.. Anything.” She smiled, thinking over a few different chicken dishes she could make for Athena. She made really good Tennessee Hot Chicken and it was something that made her still feel somewhat connected to where she came from. She couldn’t help the playful smirk on her lips as Athena agreed there was indeed no better company or anything else. It quickly delved into head shaking when they spoke mimes. Stupid croissant tasting jerks. “I hate mimes,” she stated plainly. “I thought they were cool and mysterious at first. Quickly learned otherwise when my mime twin tried to kill me.” And turned into a werewolf… but that was a bit too crazy of a story. Athena had seemed to be warming up to the whole werewolf thing. Didn’t need to make it even crazier. She nodded along. Keeping Celeste alive in the same small ways she tried to keep her parents alive. “I think so, too. Carrying her close to me even when she can’t be here just feels…as right as her being gone can feel.” When Athena asked if she intended in town, she nodded her head yes. Celeste had stayed her with her and fought on her behalf so they could finally have a longstanding home. Plus, her ashes were spread here. She couldn’t imagine leaving now. Between Celeste’s resting place and the pack she’d made, she couldn’t leave now. “Yeah, definitely here for the long haul. I’ve always wanted to be able to settle somewhere.” She just wished it was with Celeste. She sipped at her iced tea and asked, “What about you? Planning on going away for med school or staying local?”

“Yep. Plus, it’s in so many different cuisines. Chicken Tikka Masala is a favorite of mine.” Athena gave another small shrug. Let her gaze fall on Ariana’s lips for a moment and she bit her own before she grabbed her tea and took a small sip. If it had only been that Ariana thought she was hot, Athena would have been more than happy to deal with that. Heck, she’d flirted online, even if unintentionally at first. “You had one of those too? Gee, I’m super lucky I didn’t. I think that was when I literally lost my voice though.” She made a face. “Yeah, I mean, one of them also might have flirted with me, which, weird, but I’m not a fan. Of the mimes.” For all of everything else, there was at least one thing - besides soccer - that the two could connect on. Clearly caring deeply for a sibling, albeit in different ways. “That makes sense. I am glad you are able to keep her close by.” Here for the long haul unless something happens to you. She pushed the thought out of her mind for now. Whatever was going to happen tonight, she had to be level-headed and level-minded. “Settling is nice, but so’s travel. I mean, I’ve never even been outside of Maine.” She fiddled with the cross on her necklace. “Hm?” She blinked a few times. “I’m not sure. I mean, I’d like to do Harvard or Johns Hopkins but I’ll see.” See what my parents want, what is best for the greater good. “Sometimes I think I might have a good reason to stay here.” She let her lips curve into a conspiratorial smile. “I’ve still got another year until I’d be going, so I guess we’ll see! Are you excited to start your trade school program?”

It was hard for Ariana to ignore the small flutter in her chest when she realized Athena was staring at her lips. That was supposed to be a good sign, right? All of this was still pretty foreign to Ariana. She’d never really gotten a chance to stay somewhere long enough to develop an actual relationship with anyone with all the moving around. She decided not to dwell too much on it. Athena knew how she felt, if she wanted to act on that, she could. Ariana didn’t want to do anything to make her uncomfortable, especially considering what Orion had told her about their parents. At the mention of a mime flirting with her, Ariana cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Do I need to fight another mime? Because I’ll totally fight another mime,” she joked, “You’re way too cool to date a mime.” Not really wanting to talk more about Celeste, she nodded and glossed over the statement. It wasn’t that she wanted to forget Celeste, but right now, it still stung too much. Instead she focused on Athena’s own musings about staying and traveling. At the mention of never leaving Maine, Ariana gasped and said, “You haven’t been outside of Maine? You definitely have to do some traveling then.” She smiled and went one, “As a permanent way of life, it can get exhausting-- not having roots or somewhere to really call home, but it’s awesome to see the world.” She paused briefly, wondering if she should really extend the invitation on such a personal trip, but it’d be nice to have her there. “I was actually planning on doing a little road trip to Tennessee toward the end of the summer. Smoky Mountain area. It’s where Celeste and I were originally from.” She’d save the sniffing out other wolves and potentially finding some living family parts. “Harvard or Johns Hopkins? Both awesome medical programs, right? I’m sure you have the GPA for it. You should do a tour of them both or something. See which one feels right,” she encouraged even if it meant she’d be further away for medical school. Following her dreams seemed much more important than proximity. “Is that so,” she asked, not quite sure what to make of Athena’s grin even if she was mirroring it herself. “I’m pretty excited about the trade school program. I’ve actually been helping build the cabin I’ll be living in every day after camp. It’ll be cool to learn new techniques and get creative with it though. There’s no shortage of property damage in White Crest so I think I’ll be set job wise.”

“Gee, no. Not worth it.” Athena gave a half-hearted shrug. “She’s mostly left me alone and fighting mimes? So not worth it. There are far better ways to spend one’s time.” She let out a light giggle at Ariana’s next remark. “Thanks, same goes for you. The whole being way too cool to date a mime. Besides, talk about boring. Personally, I like to be able to have some level of verbal conversation with anyone who I go on a date with.” She gave a small shrug at Ariana’s query about never having been outside of Maine. “I mean, it is a big state. My family’s here, so no - I’ve never been anywhere else. I guess sometimes I’m curious, but I’m so used to where I’ve grown up, so it’s not so bad. Someday maybe I’ll go somewhere else.” I should just tell her and get it over with, she thought to herself, but then Ariana was telling her even more about her past and a vacation she had planned for later this summer, if my parents don’t find out about you first, “oh yeah? That seems like a nice sort of thing to have planned. Have you ever been back before now, or will this be the first time?” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear she nodded. “I’ll see about touring them - and yes! They are two of the best in the entire country. Not that the one here is bad, but I don’t know, it’d be nice to go somewhere with a name attached to it.” Convincing her parents would be a whole other thing. Being away in medical school meant not being in town to do what she was born to do. The very reason she’d invited Ariana out, anyhow. “It is so.” She grinned, nodding along, “oh, absolutely. This town does seem to invite not only property damage but creative property damage.” The waiter arrived with their appetizers just then and Athena spooned a few of the green beans onto her plate before grabbing a potsticker. “Try it,” she motioned toward Ariana with a chopstick. “Tell me what you think.”

Fighting mimes was actually kind of fun, but Ariana wasn’t going to touch on that. Definitely wasn’t going to say they tasted like croissants. “You’re probably right,” she agreed. Outside of Ulfric, she wasn’t sure many would actually appreciate the anecdotal tale of turning a mime into a late night snack. “It is a lot more fun when you can talk to your date,” she added with a wink and smirk curling up on her lips. “Maine is a big state. Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally ready to stay put for a long time, but there are some truly beautiful places throughout the country and I’m sure beyond.” Her own planned road trip was a bit hard to explain, but she answered, “Yeah, I’m excited for it. It’ll be nice to see where I came from. You’re welcome to come along if you’d like. I was probably going to camp though. Not sure if that’s your thing.” As the food arrived, she took a moment to appreciate the different aromas. A comforting savory smell with spice and herbs peeking through. She reached her chopsticks out for a potsticker. She blew on it before taking a bite. She let out a small “mmm” to indicate it was in fact delicious. After trying the green beans, she replied, “Yes, this is definitely all delicious. I can see why you enjoy this place so much.”

She did her best to not focus on the wink or the smirk that covered Ariana’s face. Athena wasn’t quite ready to process whatever those might mean; not right now, at least. Or acknowledge and process. “Yes, talking is quite essential in order for me to enjoy my time out with someone.” She gave a small nod, “Oh, I bet. I mean, I was and am a bit of a whiz at some geography, so I’m aware of the extraordinary world out there.” Then Ariana was inviting her on this road trip and Athena raised her eyebrows, doing her best to remain calm. “You’re really nice to offer! However, my parents can be…” particular. Not willing to let me go anywhere with a werewolf. Not letting me go out of town with a girl, either, possibly. Picky. “Strict,” she answered. “I’m actually pretty handy in the outdoors, even if camping’s not super my thing.” She didn’t know when she was going to tell her. Maybe once the rest of the food came. She could feel the pressure of her silver rings against her fingers. Could feel them calling to her, could almost hear her mother at their most recent training. “Can’t go wrong with this kinda thing, I think. Plus, they’re good at knowing my allergies and since I don’t have the peanut one going for me, it’s easier to avoid in this sort of food.” She took another small bite of the potsticker and flashed Ariana a smile.

Ariana nodded in agreement. The whole silent thing with mimes was weird. Yeah, it was supposed to be a performance, but the mimes in town… well, she didn’t think it was a performance for them. It’s just what they were. She took a few more bites from the green beans on her plate. The spice on them was nice and balanced-- it wasn’t overbearing by any means. She found she quite enjoyed them even though she was eager for her beef lo mein. After making a vegan lunch for herself and Layla, she found she was missing the meat. It was nice enjoying one of Athena’s favorites though and she found things were flowing easily. They always seemed to talk without much difficulty. Well, aside from that one time she told her about being a werewolf and her sister being a dead hunter. Given, that was a lot. She frowned slightly, but respected the thing with her parents. She’d gotten as much from Rio. “I totally get that. I’ll get some awesome Smoky Mountain view pictures to send your way then,” she responded calmly. It was probably for the better. If anyone were going to join her, it should probably be another wolf. She joked, “Of course you’re handy in the outdoors. Is there anything you’re not good at?” Having lots of allergy friendly options was always a plus. Ariana was personally always looking for places that had good meat and vegan options. “I get you, it’s good to have a place where you have good options that won’t you know… set off an allergic reaction.” As the waiter brought the food over, Ariana took in a deep inhale. That smelled delicious and looked so as well. She was ready to ravenously dig in, but refrained from letting her wolf-like appetite totally take over. She took her first bite and gave an approving nod. “Okay, definitely taking any future restaurant recommendations you have because this is fire.”

“You’d better.” Athena raised an eyebrow. “I know my Little’s planning to study abroad next year and she says she’ll send me postcards. If I can’t go somewhere, a photo or a postcard’s the next best thing!” She was being overly enthusiastic. Somehow, it felt different than usual. “I don’t know, maybe? I’m not the best at art. But I still help with my sorority’s banners for Rush and we do have the best ones on the row, so…” she shrugged. “When my brother and I were little, I used to figure out some of his Boy Scout activities and show him how to do them, so….” She trailed off, cutting into another green bean and taking a careful bite. “Always a plus in my book. I’d like to, you know, not die.” Especially not from some allergies. Completely avoidable so long as she took proper care of herself. Glancing up, she saw the food arriving. Giving a nod of thanks to the waiter she served herself a bit of chicken and some rice - and couldn’t help but smile at Ariana’s reaction. “Well, I do know my way around town.” Rio’s going to mess this up for me anyhow so I might as well do this. Besides, I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t feel remorse for telling a werewolf that I am a hunter. “By the way,” her lips curved up into only half a smile. “Did my brother ever happen to mention that he’s a beast hunter?” She dropped her fork onto her plate, raising an eyebrow. “Only he got those genes. I’m not,” even though I’ve killed more wolves, different shapeshifters, and other beings then he has, “I’m a warden.” She stabbed her piece of chicken with her fork, taking a small bite. “Figured you should know, given,” she nodded between the two of them, “all of this.”

“I’ll for sure be taking a lot of photos so I can manage that,” Ariana replied excitedly. She couldn’t wait to be camping in the mountains she was born in. Connecting to a part of her past that was once too dangerous to explore. It all made her giddy and it showed. At the mention of not being the best at art, she laughed. “Being not the best at art and terrible at art are two totally different things.” She was decent enough at sketching, but being colorblind didn’t lend much help to other forms of art. Then again, Ulf specialized in blank ink work and his art was dope as fuck. She listened to Athena talk about her outdoors experience and the like as she shovelled lo mein into her mouth. She’d been about to respond when Athena asked her next question. Did she know Rio was a beast hunter? What? Her fork dropped, clanking against her plate. Her face went pale and she struggled to find her words. Then Athena said she was a warden. Slightly better for her current predicament, but Rio was a beast hunter? He killed werewolves and she thought they were for real friends? She suddenly felt very sick. “I--,” she started. What the fuck she was supposed to say? “He, You’re-- What? He never said anything. We’ve talked about all this stuff and he never even--” She swallowed back a lump in her throat and placed clenched fists in her lap. “So you hate werewolves then,” she said plainly. Either they did or they didn’t. She needed to know.

“Good. That’s good.” Athena replied. “Well, hey, you know, I call it like I see it. I wasn’t lying about you rocking your hair the way you do, or the fact of how I matched my dress to your hair.” She heard Ariana’s fork clink against her plate and something in her - small, miniscule, hardly noticeable - felt tight. Like maybe she shouldn’t have done this. Not because of her brother. He’d made her mad enough - but for Ariana. She had considered the other girl a friend, and she hadn’t stopped the flirting or whatever had been going on. “He doesn’t exactly advertise it. He’s interested in it.” None of that was false, but she didn’t have the heart right now to outwardly deny any of this. It wasn’t like Rio wouldn’t have painted her in the worst light possible. Even if some of what he said held certain truths to it. “I don’t hate you.” Athena pushed her plate to the side. “It’s complicated.” Fiddled with her rings, a couple on each hand. Rings that would easily burn Ariana if she so chose. She held her hands back, dropped them into her lap. “Fae? Not a fan of those.” Though she’d been raised to find all supernatural beings abhorrent, fae would always be top of the list. At least no other being made her feel physically uncomfortable. She was grateful for her abilities - always would be, but it did make fae even less appealing than they already were. She could hear her mother’s voice again - ask her to come outside, just get it over with Athena. No pet names. All formal. “I just figured I should be honest with you. I’m sorry my brother hasn’t been.” Glad he didn’t get to you first.

It was hard to feel that same joy over matching each other when her head was spinning too fast for her to come to terms with. Ariana could feel her heart beating faster yet somehow her chest felt tight. The air in the restaurant suddenly seemed thick. She had unknowingly befriended someone who wanted to hunt her and had let herself have a crush on someone who would hurt Deirdre without second thought. At least with Kaden, she had known where they stood from the moment they met and Celeste had somehow mended the gap there. She wanted to have that same ability-- to bridge the hunter world and supernatural world so there was less death all around, but she felt blindsided. She’d trusted both of them and she felt so stupid for it. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unable to really hide her emotions. “He’s interested in it…” She trailed off, her voice had still been quiet but she imagined Athena could hear her. Did that mean he planned on hunting her? Oh god, he knew Layla. Did he plan on hurting Layla? The thought made her fists instinctively want to punch anything, but they were still at their table. God, was this over yet? She wanted more than anything to leave. Athena was still being nice enough to her, but the mention of hating fae still made her stomach do summersaults. While she had some potentially fae related concerns, she doubted they were all bad. She loved Deirdre and Kaden was dating a fae? They didn’t deserve to die on that basis alone. “I’m glad you don’t hate me.” It rang hollow. At least that meant one of them didn’t want to kill her. “Not a fan of fae, got it.” She’d have to make sure she and Deirdre never met. It was good Athena had been honest with her, but it still left her feeling sick and wanting to run out of the restaurant. Run to anywhere but here. Her voice was monotonous as she replied, “Thank you for telling me.” I can’t believe he didn’t. I can’t believe I stayed with them and he never even mentioned it. Oh no, what if he’s the one who picked up our bounty? It would have been so easy. I told him everything.

“I mean, he reads a ton, so I figure?” Athena shrugged. “He’s big into research.” She pushed a piece of chicken around on her plate. No longer hungry. No longer certain exactly what she was feeling. The girl in front of her was not human. She was precisely the sort of person - the sort of being - who Athena killed. Yet she’d never tried to hurt her. It still wasn’t right, though. “I won’t - I do not hate you.” Even if you are everything I am supposed to hate. “I have had far too much trouble with fae.” This wasn’t the point right now. “I figured I should.” The chicken was getting cold. She didn’t care. She could feel her mother’s gaze on her - impossible, because they weren’t near Harris Island. Yet somehow, her mother was there - or her thoughts were; every word she’d spoken about werewolves running through Athena’s mind. They are all vermin. We kill them, Athena, you know this. She knew over a dozen ways to do it, too. She looked over to Ariana - felt her throat go dry. “I suppose I can answer a question or two if you want.” She grabbed her fork, turning it in and between her fingers. She needed to hold onto something. To quell her gut instinct. The very fact that Ariana knew what she was was dangerous. Even if she seemed far less of a threat than Deirdre. She might know someone else. This wasn’t like Winston. They were human. Ariana was not, even if she looked it sometimes.

“Right, yeah, he does have all those books,” Ariana nodded. The plate in front of her still had entirely too much food and she felt sick. She’d given a beast hunter everything he needed to know to pick up her bounty. If it was him, all of it was her fault. But he’d been surprised. Then she remembered he also acted surprised when she told him she was a werewolf. It wouldn’t have been a surprise. He could have sensed her just like Celeste and Kaden had. Her stomach lurched again. Rio was supposed to be her friend and here she was being completely blindsided. She contemplated picking up her fork again to try and keep up the illusion of dinner, but even the smell was becoming too much. The air was starting to feel too thick. She longed to be back out in the fresh air with the trail home flying beneath her feet. “I don’t hate you either.” She just wasn’t who Ariana thought she was, but at least she was honest. Her attitude on fae wasn’t all that comforting, though. She loved Deirdre. Though remembering her last encounter with Lydia. No, she thought, you don’t even know what she is. You just need to see Ace again. At the mention of questions, she somehow blanked. She usually had a million questions, but right now, Ariana was sure she didn’t want to know the answers. Her mind was already reeling. “Could that be a standing offer? I’m kind of drawing a blank right now.”

“Well, he’s a nerd.” Athena shrugged. Somehow speaking ill of her brother even if she was mad at him felt wrong. Even if she hadn’t said anything other than the truth. Ariana was permitted to make her own conclusions. If her brother had gotten to Ariana first he would have painted her in a far crueler light. She was being honest - and wasn’t that just what her brother always asked of her? She found that she wasn’t hungry anymore. Apparently inviting people to The Red Dragon spelled disaster on some level. First with Winston and now with Ariana - though at least the latter- at least the present situation was one she’d brought on herself. “Good. You - you do still look good. Your hair, I mean.” I’m going to have to shower and throw out whatever I’m wearing - like before, after the run. In case mom somehow can pick up that I’ve been spending too much time around a werewolf. Willingly. “Yeah.” She bit her lip. “Besides, there’s some things that should be discussed in private.” Part of her thoughts crossed to how easy it still might be to get the other girl alone. “Or, you know, at least not in the middle of a restaurant.” You shouldn’t offer this to anyone, much less a wolf. “I mean, it’s not like we’re not going to not see one another. I’d like it if you didn’t drop out of that. Plus, not really sure how we’d explain that, since we’ve been having a great time and the kids love you.” She raised an eyebrow - a small smile beginning on her lips though not present as it had been in the beginning of their dinner.

The comment on Rio being a nerd didn’t bring Ariana any comfort. She knew he was estranged from his family, which could mean a good many things, but it didn’t sit well that he’d kept so much from her. Clearly, she knew nothing about either of them and she just laid her own story out bare for them. At least Athena had been honest. She didn’t like what she did, but some degree of trust had been maintained. “Right,” she said hoarsely. Her hand slowly rose to touch the ends of her own hair. Athena still thought she looked good and she wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t see it anymore. Not knowing she was an active hunter. They could be friendly, but she couldn’t see herself with someone who believed in killing others she cared for. “Yeah,” she choked out, “Yours too.” The air only seemed to get thicker and thicker and her palms were sweaty in her lap now. She just couldn’t shake away the anger that Rio hadn’t told her about all of this. She’d been open with him from the get go and something didn’t feel right. “That’s true.” Ariana, you have to use your words. None seemed to come. As she spoke of camp, she assured, “Oh yeah, I love the kids-- I wouldn’t quit camp just because of this. You were honest with me-- that’s…” More than she could say about Rio. The thought that maybe she’d just given out the information that was needed to kill her and Celeste wouldn’t go away. “Rio not telling me isn’t sitting right with me. He’s--” She swallowed back the sob in her throat. “I should go. I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling so good now. It’s not-- It’s not you, okay? Thank you for telling me, really.” She gathered up her bag and tried to remember to take deep breaths like Celeste had always reminded her.

It would have figured that the first time she found someone who seemed to truly care for her - well, outside of Winston, that was - that person had to go and be not human. Athena brushed her own hair to the side just as Ariana did. Why did this feel weird? She wasn’t supposed to feel remorse for anyone other than human beings or human beings with extra abilities - who were still technically human. “Thank you.” She’d known that there would be a shift, but instead of being afraid of her she was nearly silent and Athena felt a new sort of weird feeling. “The kids love you too.” She said. That much was completely honest. Ariana had a certain sort of magnetism with the. Even Sasha had grown incredibly fond of her. “I think honesty is good to attempt when possible.” When useful. “That makes sense. He just doesn’t like to talk about it, so I guess that’s why. Though he should’ve, if you two are hanging out so much.” Ariana stood up and Athena bit her lip. Why do I want to comfort her? Her hand found the knife again and she held it tight. This would be better to use. “You’re welcome.” She watched Ariana leaving. Called the waiter over and asked for the check. Spun the dull knife around in between her fingers before stabbing it into the chicken. She wasn’t hungry for leftovers anyways.

#the killer in me #athena #wickedswriting #everything is fine #nothing to see here

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queensdivas · 4 years

Text

Wildest Notes Chap 2

Ya know what I love about this movie? The fact that it goes day by day instead of trying to cram it in one singular day. So this makes writing this fic so much easier and way more fun to write!

Was this my best chapter? Probably not. Is it cute? YES!

Will I start chapter 3? Not yet cause I have to catch up on Thistle and For Gods Sake. So y’all be patient with Gardner. Trust me I would love nothing more than to write out this entire fic in one day. But freakin Eugene and Samuel need their moments as well.

So if ya liked to be tagged please let me know. And I’ll see you guys in the next chapter of whatever gets updated next!

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

What’s the best thing about Jazz? Besides it becoming very sexualized due to the fact that the Saxophone and Clarinet for some reason turn people on. I think the best thing about jazz is that it can cover so many different genres. Want some latin jazz funk? Here’s some jazz funky latin. I think this is my brain trying to calm down as my first performance with making money.

Standing in front of the club as I was debating on whether to make a run for it or just too bite the bullet. Ahhhhh crap. I always get these jitters before a performance like this and even at just private concerts in school I was a train wreck.

“Hey. You Cora?” Someone yelled as I held my binder tighter.

“Umm yes. And you?” He flicked his cigarette and approached me with his instrument.

“Theo Rivers. You’ve come to join our merry troop?” He opened the door and motioned for me to go in first.

“Yes I have.” He closed the door behind me as it was a small dark hallway. We reached onto the club floor as there were a bunch of people on the wide stage warming up, and talking amongst themselves.

The room was much bigger than I imagined as it sparkled with a large chandelier that dangled down from above. You could see the doors to and from the kitchen as they were painted black. The bar was long and filled with so many different types of alcohol I wasn’t sure what was from where. The hardwood floors were this lovely dark red that made the black tables look to grande.

“Just play it cool little thang.” Ew. Thang? Really? I stopped in the middle of the dance floor as Lucas approached the stage in front of everyone.

“Alright everyone calm down I know that we’re all excited for the new pianist whenever she gets here. Trust me you guys are going to love her!” That would be Mr. Lucas Puzo. I found him in a local music shop as I was trying to find some sort of cheap good piano. (Which is harder than it sounds.)

“Would that be her Lucas?” Someone pointed out as I was standing in the middle of the dance floor.

“Ah yes. Ladies and Gents this is our new pianist Cora Lister!” He popped down from the stage and walked over to me. I gave them a small wave as he placed his hands on my shoulder to usher me over to the stage.

“Hello.” I said softly as everyone was smiling and waving.

“Now we open in twenty minutes so get yourself warmed up missy! Alright make sure you guys give her the lineup so she’s not improvising too much. Ima go to the jon so give me five minutes.” He walked away as I stood in front of everyone as they stared back.

Not saying a word I dashed over to the piano to get comfortable on my bench. The drummer got up from his set to stand on the end of the piano as he slid over a piece of paper. I grabbed it to look at the two sets we were doing tonight. A good mixture of swing, ballads, latin, and funk? Hm. Love it.

“Felix by the way.” He smiled as I nodded. So we’re starting off with Give me a simple life? A Little cliche but it’s a good warm up song.

“You don’t talk much do you?” He asked as I placed the sheet on my stand.

“Sorry just trying to get ready.” I told him as he shook his head.

“Leave her be Felix. He’s more wild than a dog in heat when it comes to new members of our troop. Kobi the bassest.” He stood on my left as I waved at him.

“Then Kobi tries to be all smooth and act like he’s innocent. Y’all are not as smooth as you think. Krista I’m the best trombone there is.” She sat down next to me as I placed my binder on the piano stand.

“And then she acts like the superhero for women when in reality she is also trying to get into your pants. As you can see Cora you’ve attracted the dogs of the band on complete accident. For the record she’s fourth chair as I am first. Chandler by the way.” He sat on the other side as I was completely confused on what was happening. So four people are trying to get in my pants and the only few words I said were hello and sorry just trying to get ready. How the flippin’ heck does that happen?

“I should get a squirt bottle to back off against Cora! Bad bad bad!” Lucas yelled as everyone laughed to sit back in their seats. Thank Goodness. I’m not quite sure what the heck just happened but that felt like my first ever college frat party I attended. Like a penis magnet, then I left two minutes later to go home and binge watch SVU.

“Cora please tune everyone before they go mad.” Lucas ordered as cracked my knuckles real quick. I played B flat and everyone began tuning. Quickly running up and down a few scales as some random man came running out of the kitchen.

“We’re about to open! Go ahead!” He yelled as Lucas shrugged and began clearing his throat. Wait he’s singing? Would’ve loved to get a chance to practice with him so I know exactly how this band rolls!

“For your sake. Just follow me and you’ll be just fine.” Kobi told me as I nodded. I just do what I usually do when playing. TRYING NOT TO PANIC!

“One..two..a one two three four!” Immediately on a roll!

My left ear listening to the bass as my other one was focusing on the tempo Felix was giving off. A little faster than normal versions of the song but I kind of enjoy it. Definitely features a lot of me but as long as I stay calm and keep my focus on the tempo I’ll be just fine.

People began coming into the club, sitting around the small tables and waiters already serving them. I’m assuming this is a regulars club most likely. Because how many people do you know regularly enjoy listening to jazz?

I noticed my piano solo was coming already as I cracked my neck and thought of a good improv pattern for myself that would match nicely with the song. Maybe something a little spicy but not too spicy.

My fingers bounced up and down the piano as my attention went towards Lucas who was nodding at my improv solo. I’d known he was impressed with me when I played at graduation.

Another glimpse into the crowd as everyone was talking amongst themselves or watching us up they're playing. Ya know I was expecting a lot less people but the turnout was pretty great for my first night.

Is it weird that I’m a little shocked that Gardner didn’t show up? I mean I knew he was tightly rounded but thought getting him out of his house would do him some good. But that’s what happens when I try to be nice in my life. Everyone ends up shutting the door in my face but somehow I still stand..ah ya don’t need to hear me.

The song finished as the crowd began softly cheering as Lucas bowed to everyone. He fixed his tie as he clapped his hands. He began kissing up to the crowd as I flipped the page to the next song in the set. Which should be You Belong to Me. Not the Taylor Swift version obviously. I believe it’s the Jo Stafford version. Luckily it’s not a big piano song so I’ll be nice and cozy back here this time.

“PST Cora!” He was trying to be quiet but that obviously wasn’t working.

“What Kobi?” I asked as he leaned over to the piano and tried to say something to me. But I barely could hear out of choice. I think I’m just going to bust through the sets here and then go home.

A waitress approached me as she held up some sort of blue drink up to me as I shook my head. Me? Getting drunk on the piano? Never in my life! She shrugged as Lucas began counting us off again softly.

Definitely business till I can get used to this sort of environment.

~~~

“YOU BETTER GET BACK! HONKY CAT! LIVING IN THE CITY AIN’T WHERE IT’S AT! IT’S LIKE TRYING FIND GOLD IN A SILVER MINE! IT’S LIKE TRYING TO DRINK WHISKEY FROM A BOTTLE OF WINE!” I danced around my kitchen as I placed the last plate from lunch away. Angus was sitting in the entrance between the kitchen and living room.

“Well I read some books OW! And I read some magazines! C’mere Angus!” I told him as he trotted over and jumped up into my arms.

“About those high-class ladies down in New Orleans.” He was annoyed as I was moving him back and forth. He should be used to it by now at this point.

“AND ALL THE FOLKS BACK HOME..WELL...SAID I WAS A FOOL!” Angus plopped down to sulk himself back into the living room and laid down on the floor with the sun shining through the window on him.

“THEY SAID OH BELIEVE IN THE LORD IS THE GOLDEN RULE!” I danced my way over to the record play to turn it down a little due to the fact my neighbors probably don’t want to hear me screaming Honky Cat lyrics. I mean I can sing but when Elton comes on it’s like a party.

It was just low enough I heard that creak of a front gate open as the tip toed over to the front door and was ready to pounce and scare him. No that’s too mean. Maybe another time when he’s not carrying a package of mine. He quickly knocked on the screen door as I opened my front door and he was off.

“Hiya Gardner.” It was like a car break on how fast he stopped. I looked down to see how huge this box was and saw it was from Eureka. Mom?

“Mind giving me a hand?” I asked him as he turned around and looked down at the ground.

“Sure.” He came up the porch as I tossed the mail into the music room as we bent down to pick up the box.

Well..a slip and a fall. That big bulky box landed straight on my left foot. If you think stubbing that little toe of yours was bad. This was a whole lot worse.

“Son of a biscuit!” I tried laughing it up as Gardner had his hands over his mouth.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He panicked as I smiled at him. One of those painful smiles that’s trying to cover up that I’m screaming in pain internally.

“It’s fine. Just let’s get this in here!” I said through my teeth as we tried lifting it again and carrying it inside. We walked into the living room for Angus to move quickly out of the way.

“Now please don’t crush my foot again.” I told him as we slowly lowered the box onto the rug. I sat down on the couch to then look at my left foot making sure it wasn’t broken. Luckily we’re all good.

“Is your foot okay?” He chirped as I nodded.

“Yeah it’ll be fine. You often drop boxes on people's feet?” I tried to lighten the conversation but I could tell he was not interested. Might as well see what’s in the box.

“Give me another hand into the kitchen.” I got back up from the couch as he looked at the door.

“I really don’t have time.” I placed my hands on my hips with one eyebrow raised at him. We reached down again and carried it into the kitchen and placed it on the counter. He took a step back and grabbed a small knife to open the box.

“Well if that’s everything Cora.” I placed the knife down and tossed an apple to him. He barely caught it as I reached into the box.

“You look a little famished. An apple always helps.” I pulled out a rolled up bubble wrap to see it was Mrs. Seymours old collection of her Elvis Presley China!

“Oh my gosh!” I laughed as The King was painted on the plate.

“Ya know I love people’s obsession with the weirdest things in the world. Mrs. Seymour loved Elvis Presley China.” I pulled out the second dinner plate that had him in his big red glittery suit.

“Why Elvis?” Gardner asked as I handed him the plate.

“She loves Elvis. Oh my god it’s like her passion before opening a home for all of us and locking it down.” I reached in to pull out the all white suit Elvis but it was cracked in half.

“Well. You broke Elvis Gard. Now you gotta fix him.” I told him as a wave of panic rolled on his face.

“Ya know..I...I..can’t. Uh..I really really..” I think the glue is in the junk drawer. I opened the drawer to see super duper glue. Perfect! He placed down the apple he didn’t even take a bite out of and stand in front of the broken plate.

“Now just be gentle with the King.” I began squeezing the glue along the crack as he kept trying to check his watch. If he doesn’t stop checking his watch I’m gonna throw it in the backyard!

“Alright now just hold it still.” I told him as we pushed the plate back together for the glue to start sticking.

“Now I’m going out to lunch if you could just stand here till I get back.” His eyes widened as I looked at him dead seriously.

“Wait what lunch!?” I lost it as he sunk back into himself.

“I’m..I’m sorry. I..I generally don’t hang out with civilians this much.” Civilians? Do I look like I’m in the army? Do I need to salute him or something?

“Just messin’ with your Gard. You need to lighten up a little bit sir. Us civilians aren’t all horrid people.” I told him as he looked down at the plate as I gently took it from his hands. He put his white hat on his head as he began becoming uptight again.

“I’m sorry if I broke your foot.” He blurted out as I looked down at it. I imagine I'll be getting some sort of bruise. Not really a problem due to the fact I use my right foot for the petals anyhow.

Angus came strolling into the kitchen as he sat down in front of Gard waiting for him to scratch the top of his head. He looked down at him as Angus was beginning to whimper at Gard.

“If you’re going to bail on me without saying goodbye. At Least say goodbye to Angus.” Angus licked his lips as Gard quickly scratched the top of his head.

“Goodbye Cora. This was interesting again.” Turning around like a bat out of hell as Angus and I watched him leave the kitchen through the living room and shutting the front door.

Why do I find him so adorable?

Taglist

@bonafiderocketqueen @filmslutt @leah-halliwell92 @johndeaconshands @amethyst-serenade @soy-guey @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @queen-turtle-boiii @mercury-wife @deck-heart @themficsilike@themficsilike @deakydeaks @mirkwoodshewolf

#Gardner #gardner langway #gardner x reader #Gardner Langway x reader #Gardner Langway Fic #Dear Sidewalk #Dear Sidewalk x reader #Dear Sidewalk Fan fic #joe mazzello #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello x reader

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