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#because there's a fruit store in this chapter and i had fun writing it :)
bluewindfall · 5 months
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fruit store
He finishes his mission early in the afternoon. It’s only one thirty. When he crosses the street, he can feel the heat of the car engines lined up at the intersection.
Rin sent him a photo of spicy noodles from a Chinese restaurant that Konekomaru and Ryuuji bought him for lunch. Everyone keeps bringing him food. At least, he appears to be doing reasonably well. 
Rin has been reading the notes Father wrote on another investigation that could be related to Ishikawa’s case. The question is, how does that relate to the distortion? Why is Mephisto so adamant that he focuses on Ishikawa’s case at this time?
A taxi honks when it turns. As Yukio waits at the intersection, he receives a call. It’s from Shura. 
“Shura-san?” 
“Hey. I’m having lunch at headquarters. There’s some punk sitting out here in the front. You’re free, aren’t you?”
Yukio steps under the awning of a convenience store. The air conditioning is pleasantly cold, ruffling his hair when the automatic doors open. “Not necessarily.” He grabs a basket, looking over a pile of discount items. 
“Well, he said something about a missing person, but they kicked him out because he kept swearing.” Someone else’s voice filters through, not quite clear enough for him to decipher. “He’s been here all morning.” 
Yukio holds his phone with his shoulder as he sets three bottles of green tea into his basket. There are several guards in the confinement tower where Rin is being held. Since he’s been visiting often, it’s better to bring something. “Why can’t you talk to him?” 
“Huh? Delinquents love you. Also, you’re just a junior inspector. I outrank you.” 
Yukio’s eyelid twitches. “I’m not good with delinquents.” He doesn’t manage to smile as politely as he’d like when the cashier bags his tea and sodas. 
“That’s too bad. I’m busy chasing the airport demon. It’s a huge pain.” 
“Really?” Yukio shifts his phone to his other shoulder as he leaves the convenience store. “I thought its leg was injured.” 
“Yeah, but it’s still fast. We don’t know what it wants, so we’re just chasing it around the city.” 
“That sounds unfortunate.”
“So, anyway, go talk to that delinquent. Mina at the front desk said he shouted something about the airport. He probably doesn’t know anything, but you might as well go scare some respect into him.” 
Yukio sighs when she hangs up. 
The streets are full of people near the shopping center. He picks up his pace as he heads down a set of stairs beneath a flowering wisteria tree. Its pale blossoms have scattered along the cracks in the cement, fluttering when he passes by. 
Only a day has passed. A demon that strong shouldn’t be capable of leaving this town once it’s inside. True Cross had its wards checked only a month ago. There should be no weak points. 
The question is, how did it enter undetected in the first place? 
To keep reading on AO3 (: (this is chapter 3)
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bawlbrayker · 1 month
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I was tagged by @wehangout, and this one looks pretty cool to explore! She was tagged over a year ago, so it would be fun to see this one spread around again!
rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.
Mickey's heart is pounding. He's been standing on an empty dock for the last half hour, smoking too many cigarettes, pacing back and forth, trying to not breathe in the smell of stagnant pools of water filled with engine oil, ignoring the trains passing overhead. - Did I Wish You Here In Front Of Me
Mickey steps inside the tub, hot water flowing from his fucking West Side apartment shower like he has never experienced before, from either the shitty Milkovich house of horrors bathroom, or the cramped Gallagher bathroom that never had enough hot water, and almost zero water pressure. - It's Time to Come Clean
"Get the lube, bitch." Mickey says, tongue out in excitement, as he unbuckles his belt and drops his fly. - Just What You Feelin
Still wet from the shower, Ian attempts to put Mickey in a headlock as they fall laughing onto the bed, Mickey getting an elbow into Ian's ribs, slightly harder than the situation required. What A Man Gotta Do
A ray of sunlight ripples across his pillow and as soon as Mickey opens his eyes into wakefulness, he tries desperately to hold onto his dream, already fading so quickly and leaving him only with random flashes of red and green in his inner gaze.   One Hundred and Forty Seven Steps
Juggling a box of Fruit Rounds and a box of Froot Loops, trying to decide if getting the cheaper version will justify buying an extra box of snacks, Ian feels a tingling up his spine, and inexplicably his dick twitches in his boxers. The Divining Rod
“So, Big Boy… do you come here often?” Mickey asks, hoping his husband would jump straight into the roleplay. Apparently catching on, the redhead below him grips his hips tightly. “Actually, this is my first time here. I didn't think I’d pick up a hot guy in a bar and go home with him the first night I arrived.” C.O.C.O.N.U.T
“Ugh, it’s the middle of the day, man.” Mickey groused, as he rubbed his eyes and squinted at the ground, trying to avoid looking up at the bright sky. Save a Horse, Ride a Gallagher
It’s a Friday afternoon, the day before their fifth wedding anniversary. Ian and Mickey are standing in the middle of the liquor store, quibbling over which vodka to buy, with Mickey throwing in gentle jabs about Ian’s low tolerance for alcohol. A Slice of Life
Conclusion: I definitely have a preference for writing in present tense! I'm working on it though. I also seem to lead with canon dialogue where I can. I also love to start everything with Mickey.
Gonna tag a bunch of you because this was from ages ago so you can either do it again or do it with new fics! No pressure, of course! Play along if you wish! This was fun!
@jrooc @blue-disco-lights @em-harlsnow @roryonic @spookygingerr
@spacerockwriting @rayrayor @depressedstressedlemonzest @deathclassic @starry-nights-17
@southsidestory @ian-galagher @ms-moonlight-inn @biblionerd07 @mrs-monaghan
@sweetperversiongirl @crestfallercanyon @gallavichgeek @ifallonblackdays @solitarycreaturesthey
@mytangledmind @sgtmickeyslaughter @mybrainismelted @goodkwuestion @lingy910y
@tsuga-of-mars @spoonfulstar @scurvgirl @honeyvanillin @darlingian
@ryantryinx @sweetbee78 @gallabitch73 @twinklyylights @too-schoolforcool
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years
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Brandy Butter
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Dieter Bravo x f!reader
|| Consent universe oneshot, heavy mentions of the last chapter Concentric, so do not recommend reading as a stand-alone ||
{ Fuck Yeah Holidays | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: E
Prompts: Drunken confession | Christmas (additional requests sent in with the votes in notes at the end)
Summary: Dieter blames it on the damn brandy butter.
Warnings: Swearing, drinking, mention of food, dirty talk, fingering, handjob, cumshot, feelings so fluffy. These holiday fics are for fun, so not as *rigorously edited* as my regular stories, please forgive any mistakes or plot holes!
Word count: 3.4k
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Notes: Posting this a week before Christmas so you guys can read at your own pace! This one came in first in the holiday vote, and I've been waiting to write this for a long time. This is dedicated to Cristina @pedropascalsx for being one of my favourite people on this hellsite, but also partly because it mentions a key scene in the series for which she commissioned this gorgeous art for. Thank you for being the sweetest friend, this is for you ❤️
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It’s shaping up to be the first decent holiday season you’ve had in a while. Your parents are on a cruise (you love them, but they haven’t met Dieter in person yet and you’re happy to hold off for a day that doesn’t involve your mother stress-cooking and your father knocking back eggnog), Pete and Ana are in town, and you’re all going to Rebecca’s for dinner tonight.
You’re starting Christmas morning the same way you have since college - making Christmas pudding in your pyjamas.
Your roommate from the other side of the pond introduced you to the weird and quintessentially British holiday dessert in freshman year, and it’s been a treasured tradition of yours ever since to make it from scratch every year.
The Christmas pudding is a hard sell. The dark brown, domed sponge cake is boiled for hours, packed with alcohol-soaked dried fruit and definitely not Instagram-friendly, but you’ve yet to meet someone who you didn’t convert with your secret recipe.
Maybe Dieter Bravo would be the first.
‘It smells funny.’
You snort as you cut up butter into cubes. ‘You haven’t washed that robe in weeks and you think this smells funny?’
He picks up the recipe for the pudding and reads in mock horror, ‘Raisins, prunes, currants soaked in stout for 24 hours?’
You roll your eyes. ‘Drop the puritan act, Bravo. You’ve definitely been soaked in much worse for much longer.’
He continues, ignoring your jab. ‘The pudding can be stored for up to two years in a cool, dry place. What the fuck is this witchcraft cake, sweetheart?’
Measuring out icing sugar, you answer, ‘It’s a traditional British Christmas dessert. It’s delicious.’
‘But we’re not British,’ he protests. ‘Why can’t we have some nice, normal pecan pie or something?’
Grabbing the ingredients, you move around the kitchen counter towards the standing mixer that you brought with you when you moved in. ‘You can, if you make it. But you’re not, and I love Christmas pudding, so stop complaining.’
He follows hot on your heels, craning over your shoulder as you start beating the sugar into the butter. ‘Whatcha making?’
‘Brandy butter,’ you reply, tipping in a generous pour of said alcohol into the mixture. ‘It’s like frosting, but with lots of brandy.’
Dieter hums appreciatively, palms finding your waist. ‘Now that I can get on board with.’
You turn off the mixer to do a taste test, smacking your lips as you lick the brandy butter off the spoon. It’s delicious, sweet and smooth but the alcohol cuts through the richness - it will go perfectly with the sticky and dense Christmas pudding.
Dieter follows suit, scooping a greedy dollop of brandy butter with two fingers which disappear into his mouth. When he swallows, he unleashes a moan so guttural that it would make a porn star blush.
‘It’s good, but it’s not that good,’ you chide his over-the-top dramatics, and smack him on the back of his hand when he makes to dive into the mixing bowl again. ‘No double dipping, Bravo.’
His grin turns filthy instantly, the wolvishness that curls the corner of his lips never fails to set your pulse racing. Grabbing you by the ass, he whines into your neck, ‘But sweetheart, you love it when I double dip into your sweet, tight -’
‘Dieter -’ You cut in, but you can’t help the waver in your voice when the same two fingers that were in his mouth just now, still warm from his tongue, trail under the elastic band of your sweatpants.
You can hear the smirk in his voice when he asks, ‘How about a little Christmas present to kick the day off, sweetheart?’
His fingertips catch on your skin - with remnants of sugar from the brandy butter and dried spit - as they slide into your panties, running through the thatch of hair before finding your clit, making you cry out as he chuckles into your ear.
‘Who’s been a good girl this year?’ he teases.
Your scoff at the unoriginal innuendo careens off into a moan when he makes his way through your quickly dampening folds. ‘Really? Santa jokes?’
‘Don’t be such a grinch, sweetheart,’ he mock-admonishes you, dipping the tip of his middle finger into your wet pussy, groaning at what he finds. ‘It’s obviously working on you.’
‘Fuck,’ you bite out when he hastily shoves your pants down and sinks one thick digit in all the way down to the knuckle. Bracing yourself on the marble-top surface, you suddenly realise it’s probably time to top up the water in the pan for the Christmas pudding. ‘Wait, Dieter - I need to check on the pudding -’
‘Uh-uh,’ tuts Dieter, spinning you around and easily hoisting you onto an empty spot on the kitchen counter, the cold surface under your bare ass making you shiver. ‘Not until you cum on my hand, baby.’
‘It’ll burn!’ your protest trails off into a desperate whine when he starts pumping in and out of you, dropping his gaze to watch as your cunt slicks up his finger.
‘Then you better cum quick,’ he retorts in a cocky challenge. ‘Although, on second thought, I wouldn’t mind if it did burn.’
He slows his movements deliberately, but you shake your head, rolling your hips in chase. ‘Oh no, you won’t win, Dieter Bravo.’
He presses a messy kiss to your lips. ‘You’re so sexy when you’re competitive, baby.’
‘One more finger,’ you demand, swiping your tongue into his mouth as you push your hands into his unruly curls.
‘I thought you said no double dipping,’ he taunts against your lips, clearly having been waiting for the chance to drop that line.
‘Oh, shut up,’ you grumble with ill-concealed affection. He doesn’t deny you, and your teeth catch your bottom lip when you push back onto his hand shamelessly. ‘I want to touch you.’
Dieter doesn’t need to be told twice, untying the drawstring of his sweats and pushing them down to free his already hard cock. You wrap your palm around his erection, your wrist slack as you stroke him in an unforgiving rhythm that has him stuttering curses into the crook of your neck.
When he pushes you backwards to find your clit with his fingertips, you brace one foot on a kitchen stool, which lends you the leverage to start moving freely.
‘Ride my fingers, that’s a good girl,’ he croons while he watches you impale yourself on him, your grip around his length tightening at the same time he draws quicker circles on your clit. ‘That’s it, sweetheart, come on -’
Your back arches as you snap, your orgasm ripping hot and fast through you. Dieter grins, mouthing at your sensitive neck and scraping his teeth behind your ear, leaving you slumping bonelessly against his side.
With a low chuckle at your wrecked state, Dieter gently dislodges your palm to take himself in hand, jaw twitching as he rushes headlong into his own high. Pulling out of your heat, he holds you obscenely wide, and with a hoarse shout, he spurts thickly onto your pussy splayed open beneath him, his cum dripping like white honey through your folds and onto the countertop.
Smearing one finger through his mess, you gasp when he pushes it into your still sensitive pussy, winking as he draws it out to suck it clean. He declares, ‘Tastes even better than your brandy butter if you asked me, sweetheart.’
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Despite your negligence, the Christmas pudding survives unscathed - much to Dieter’s dismay.
It’s the first time all of you are under the same roof since Resurgence ended, and it’s a merry affair. Dieter and Pete won’t stop crooning reunited and it feels so good to each other like idiots, you and Ana scoff at their antics affectionately while you catch up on the last few months.
Rebecca and Hank are in fine form, their beautiful house decorated to the nines. You finally meet their daughter, Coco, and the family cat Crookshanks. Everyone helps out - laying out the silverware, pouring the champagne and putting presents under the outrageously decked out ten-foot Christmas pine. The lights of Hollywood Hills twinkle outside the floor-to-ceiling windows beyond the infinity pool, as dusk falls and candles are lit all around the intimate dining room.
Dinner is delicious. The hosts made turkey, stuffing and an assortment of delicious sides, Ana cooked potatoes three ways, and Pete brought plenty of wine that flows liberally as the dishes go around the table for seconds, thirds and fourths.
It’s your first big holiday together as a couple - the teasing, marriage jokes and third degree are expected, and Pete doesn’t disappoint.
With the food winding down but glasses tirelessly topped up, he clamours for a reenactment of the reunion on the boat in Italy, insisting that he plays the part of Constance to make up for the fact that he missed the event. That’s how Pete and Dieter end up on the first landing on the stairs which overlooks the dining space, trying to recreate the scene where you caught him and Constance and realised that it was all a ruse.
Trying being the keyword. They’re mostly knocking back wine while arguing about the details.
‘No, no, I’m 100% sure Ana was there as well the exact moment she figured out that you guys were faking it,’ insists Pete, wagging his finger sagely.
‘How would you know, you weren’t even there, Pete!’ you heckle.
‘Pete, if you decide to try your hand in acting, you know where to find representation. You make such a convincing Constance,’ Rebecca jokes.
You think you’ve gotten away with the worst of it by the time you help clear the table and Pete gets distracted by the dessert coming out of the kitchen. Your defences are down, leaving yourself vulnerable to ambush -
You just didn’t expect it from Rebecca and Hank’s thirteen-year-old.
Coco is her mother’s daughter. Whip smart and taking after her mum’s striking looks, she has far more self-assuredness than you did at her tender age. The way she discreetly weighs you up is the same way Rebecca assessed you all those months ago when you first met in the doorway of your hotel room.
The teenager waits until everyone is sloshing with wine to pounce. You’ve all moved to the living room where the fireplace is roaring, and the desserts are laid out on the coffee table. She’s curled up next to Dieter in front of the fire, Crookshanks - who not only has the name but also the looks to boot - draped across both their laps.
You’re in the middle of explaining Christmas pudding to the sceptics, which currently stands untouched, when she coolly calls you by your name and draws first blood.
‘So, are you and Uncle D living together?’
Surprised, you blink at the sudden change in conversation and stutter a reply, ‘Um - ahem, yes, Coco - yes, we are.’
‘He’s lived with a bunch of girls, you know,’ she informs you, crossing her arms.
‘All at once or at different times?’ you joke in an attempt to lighten the mood. Pete’s mouth is hanging open in both fascination and anxiety at the unfolding drama while Ana chews on her nails, eyes darting between you and the girl.
‘Coconuts,’ pipes up Dieter with a warning tilt to his tone.
She shrugs innocently. ‘What? Just making sure you’re on the same page. Mum always says communication makes or breaks a relationship.’
‘I appreciate that, and I do know he’s lived with other women before,’ you assure her. ‘We both have our histories.’
Seizing on your comment, she continues with her line of questioning. ‘So how many men have you lived with?’
‘Coco,’ raps Becks sternly from across the room. ‘That is not an appropriate question, young lady.’
You smile and shake your head. ‘It’s ok - I’ve just lived with one guy. We were engaged.’
‘What happened?’ she asks.
You reply truthfully, ‘We broke up a few years ago. Sometimes that’s the way things turn out.’
Coco taps on her chin thoughtfully, turning to Dieter. ‘How many times have you been engaged, Uncle D? I remember twice, at least. So that’s three failed engagements between the two of you -’
The cat yowls in protest when Dieter reaches over to squeeze Coco by the shoulders, a slightly uncomfortable grin on his lips. ‘Alright, what’s up with all the interest in math tonight, kiddo?’
She points out, ‘I don’t see any posts about her on your Instagram. You’ve never kept anything secret before. What’s different this time?’
Dieter turns to Becks, tossing up his hands in disbelief. ‘You let her use Instagram? She’s thirteen!’
Becks rolls her eyes fondly. ‘Am I really getting parenting advice from Dieter Bravo?’
Then, Coco turns to you and delivers the coup de grace. ‘So - do you love him?’
Before you can react, Pete chokes violently on his eggnog, gripping at the coffee table from his seat on the plush rug. Ana has to burp him like a baby while he cries, ‘Oh god, it’s coming up my nose! It burns!’
You’re so stunned that you still haven’t moved a muscle when Dieter jumps up, sending Crookshanks scampering off with a grumpy meow.
‘Ok that’s it,’ he pronounces and hauls Coco up by her armpits. ‘Off to bed now, young lady. Say good night!’
Coco protests as she’s dragged off, slipping and sliding on her Christmas socks on the marble floor, her voice petering out as they disappear up the stairs. ‘What the heck, Uncle D? They’re fair questions and you know it. Have you even asked them yourself -’
Glancing about in the awkward silence, Pete picks up a bottle of brandy from the table and shouts. ‘Shots!’
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Three quarters of an hour later, Pete is lying prostrate, snoring on the couch. Ana is engaged in a tipsy philosophical debate with Rebecca, and Hank is drunk washing up in the kitchen.
You’re tucked into Dieter’s side while he munches on a slice of Christmas pudding with a generous helping of brandy butter. ‘I take it back, sweetheart. This is fucking delicious.’
‘It’s a cake soaked in alcohol, of course it is,’ you grin, which morphs into a yawn as you glance at your watch. ‘It’s late, I think we should try and get an Uber home.’
Becks speaks up from across the room. ‘You sure, guys? We have a couple of spare rooms upstairs.’
‘It’s fine, I think Pete needs it more than us,’ you quip, reaching over to poke at his prone form with your foot.
Ana waves from the floor. ‘See you later, love birds. Merry Christmas!’
Becks gets up and loops her arm through yours as she walks you to the door. ‘Sorry about Coco. She’s protective about her Uncle D, especially when it’s the first time he’s brought a woman home for Christmas in a while.’
You smile and pull her into a hug. ‘Please don’t apologise, your kid’s a feisty one and I know exactly who she got that from. Goodness knows he could use her in his corner,’ you add with a wink.
You shepherd Dieter into the waiting car. It’s easily the most expensive Uber ride you’ve ever taken, and you breathe a sigh of relief when Dieter’s house comes into view.
Home.
Somewhere between the Hollywood Hills and Sherman Oaks, Dieter passes out cold, drool puddling on the shoulder of his fuzzy brown coat as he dozes. You have to coax him out of the car and up into the bedroom, with him whining drunkenly the whole way, face buried in the back of your neck as he stumbles after you.
It’s a struggle to get him out of his clothes - perish the thought of getting him to brush his teeth - but at least he’s just the right level of drunk that has him snoring within moments of his head hitting the pillow. You breathe a sigh of relief when you climb in after him.
Dieter immediately shuffles into your warmth and blindly presses a kiss to you, which lands on the side of your nose. You huff a laugh, rearranging yourself so that your back is to his chest, his arms wound around your waist.
‘Not so tight, I’m stuffed,’ you grumble.
He obeys, but keeps the entire length of his body smooshed against you needily, the proximity muffling his words. ‘I do, you know.’
‘What?’ you hum.
The declaration is slurred with sleep as it brushes your ear, but the tone is emphatic. ‘Love you. I love you, sweetheart.’
You stop breathing.
Not that you haven’t wondered, silently turned it over in your mind over the past few months. But it’s two in the morning - you lost count at one glass of bubbles and three and a half of wine, and him many more. You swear you can taste brandy butter on his breath.
Before you can muddle through your jumbled thoughts, he mercifully slips into sleep.
And you mull over his words until you do too.
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Your side of the bed is cold when he wakes up in the morning.
Dieter winces at the light, tempted to bury himself under the duvet, but something he can’t put his finger on has him sitting up, a groan on his lips as the world tilts dangerously on its axis.
That something nags at him as he slips on his robe, nips at his heels as his feet wriggle into furry slippers.
He stops abruptly by the bedroom door.
Shit. Did he tell you that he loves you last night?
The heating is on and the house is toasty, made even warmer with the smell of fresh coffee and sizzling butter from the open kitchen. You’re at the stove as he pads quietly towards you, and you don’t turn around when he snakes his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. ‘Morning, sweetheart.’
You hum noncommittally, but at least you’re relaxing into his embrace instead of pulling away, and Dieter breathes a sigh of relief.
He hasn’t scared you away. You’re still here.
‘I meant what I said last night,’ he blurts out impulsively.
He almost winces at his rashness. But he does, and he’s never been good at holding things back, especially things that he knows. He’s not going to take it back.
Without turning around, you say evenly, ‘Go sit down, Dieter.’
He stiffens instantly behind you, nails digging into the soft fabric of your dressing gown. Fuck. Fuck. You want him to sit down? Why?
Blindly, he lets go of you and stumbles over his feet to the kitchen counter, scrambling onto a stool. The hardwood floor suddenly feels like quicksand as he wobbles in his seat, sweaty palms pressed into the cool marble surface to anchor him. You take your time, your body giving away no hint of the same gravity that’s making his stomach drop while you flip over what smells like buttermilk pancakes.
When you finally turn around with the pan in your hands, Dieter holds his breath and watches you cross the kitchen to slide something into his plate, which lands with an emphatic thwack.
Eventually, he looks up at you with the biggest puppy eyes in utter confusion. He squeaks, ‘It’s a heart-shaped pancake.’
You smile at his befuddlement. ‘That’s right. Just like that heart-shaped pizza Lorenzo made for us in Italy.’
‘Is this one a prank too?’ he asks in a small voice.
Stepping in between his legs and winding your arms around his neck, you smile. ‘Unfortunately not. I actually love you, you idiot.’
You yelp when he tugs you fully into him, making you lose your footing as you laugh. And then he’s kissing you, fingers pushing into your hair, thumbs brushing your cheeks as he pulls back.
‘There isn’t a ring in the pancake, is there?’ he teases with a throwback to your reaction to the heart-shaped pizza all those months ago, wriggling his eyebrows.
‘You should be so lucky, Dieter Bravo,’ you echo his words back at him.
He grins. Some day, one day - maybe even in that same house that he’s been thinking of buying for the two of you, on the roof with the terracotta floor at sunset on a summer’s day, with his grandmother's ring in a heart-shaped pizza -
But for now, he swallows the lump in his throat, his warm eyes hold yours with a surety he feels deep in his bones as he murmurs against your lips, ‘I love you too, sweetheart.’
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I never regretted holding off on this moment from the main series, and writing this in the months after Consent ended (which is about the same length of time for our two idiots in the story), I feel even more strongly about this. Thank you for the enthusiastic voting for this prompt and Christmas, I loved writing this moment for these two so much - they've definitely earned it.
I hope you all have the most wonderful Christmas ❤️
Also, thank you for these requests that I had so much fun working into this fic!
LJ @prolix-yuy: IF you do the Christmas fic, I would love to see which seasonal drink/food Dieter and our Intimacy Coordinator enjoy (especially if it's polarizing for each other - does Dieter like eggnog? Fruitcake? Something even weirder) No pressure to add, love you Cee!
Anon: Maybe you could work a cat in somewhere? 😉 Like maybe he ends up around someone who has a cat? He seems like he’d be really sweet with them. He just seems like a cat man to me. Even if he doesn’t know it yet. I could be wrong. That’s just my headcanon.
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destinedtobeloved · 11 months
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Now that I’ve finished Altered Carbon, I think it would be fun to share one of my notes from my notes app that I’ve been writing on since I’ve started it. I’ve cried a lot about this book, and everything I’ve ever left behind has claw marks.
This book definitely has claw marks.
It includes all of my favorite moments and parts of the book down below :)
Things I love about book Kovacs
- he’s trying to quit smoking
- His hallucinations are of Jimmy and Virginia Vadura
- Him and Ortega don’t actually hate eachother that much in the beginning
- At first Takeshi doesn’t actually hate Bancroft either
- He’s genuinely confused about earth terms
- He was mad that at the Wei clinic they didn’t give him back his watch or his bandana, simply because he just bought it and he’d liked the watch
- He likes shopping
- He likes fruit juice???
- Gaslit Umou into being late to Psychasec because he needed to eat breakfast
- He deals with hangovers like a champ
- Started smoking in the construct once he remembered it had no real consequences in the real
- Understands female complexity/differences between male and female
- Knows how to handle gentle situations most of the time (victor talking about his daughter, Kristen talking about Ryker.)
- Quotes poetry from Quell
- Also enjoys poetry (ex; the carving on the bench at the faculty when he’s waiting for the doctor.)
- Slept for twenty hours after the Wei clinic??
- His emotion (though i do miss the scene where he’s drugged up outside of the raven talking to Quell. ‘250 years is long enough. It’s time to move on.’ ‘Never. You hear me? Never.’)
- His love for Sarah
- His attempts at smiling
- His explanation of personality frag!!!!
- Chapter 20 as a whole is so amazing (talking about Ryker- him and Curtis, bla bla bla, mostly just Elias and Kristen stuff.)
- Ramen just awakens something in him
- Actually very good at telling children’s stories to Ortega (like a dad.)
- Good at cracking jokes
- His interaction with the little girl in the second page of chapter 25???!?? (He shoots her with a little finger gun when he realizes she’s looking at him expectantly after seeing his weapon.)
- After the whole blown up building Kadmni thing (‘that’s fucking enough!’) he smokes because he just decides it’s not worth it
- Him and Trepp playing card games on the airship that Trepp had taught him
- He literally reaches for his Nemex every three seconds istg
- Remaining ‘innocent at the core’ -reileen
- Apparently having a very deep very drugged convo about cats in chapter 26
- Kovacs is a MUNCH
- Repeats the same Virginia Vidora quote over again. ‘We take what is offered. And sometimes, that must be enough.’
- Reileen always starting off her talks with him in Japanese because she thinks it unites them in a way
- Had to stop himself from calling reileen ray
- He actually DOES genuinely smile (ex; when Irene is exited about the limo)
- ‘I’m a sucker for family reunions.’ HE ACTUALLY DOES CARE (maybe it’s because him and Sarah never got to have one after he was taken out of the store.)
- Sleeping in the car (limo) so Irene can get laid
- The guilt/itchiness he has after relapsing into smoking
- Him and Trepp are actually friends and she insists that they go party, drink coffee, play card games together, ect.
- Considers trepp not getting into the envoys a ‘Lucky escape’
- Trepp n Kovacs playful teasing
- He missed Ortega when she left the Hendrix and didn’t come back. ‘I missed Ortega.’ Page 356
- Bancroft saying he’d been around for the RD’s of two of his children. (Going out of order back to the beginning)
- Doesn’t bullshit. Didn’t tell Irene it would pass when she was feeling hurt after being resleeved.
- It was nerve wracking to him to watch Irene code
- Reileen and Miriam slept together??
- Takeshis urge to be cruel
- Got anyoyed when Miller was tapping on the table and just flatted out his hand LMFAO
- When he heard he got a call he immediately asked if it was Ortega.
- Literally seconds before he’s about to get beat to death in the Panamrose he thinks about how bored he is
- Still, right before he about to die, he thinks about Ortega and calls her a ‘pocket of calm’
- He’s ready to die, not awfully upset about it because he knows Kristen has enough information to get Reileen and also because he knows Sarah will be released
- Trepp saves him in the Panama rose
- He talks to his dad mid fight after not hearing him forever. Before he killed Kadmin (calling him the ‘patchwork man’) he asks if he wants to say anything.
- He’s afraid to alter his virtual self because he thinks it’s not far away from what reileen and Bancroft do
- Sits on a forklift after the fight thinking. He’s weirdly soft.
- Claims that nothing hurt more then the realization that this would be his and Ortegas last moments together
- Held hands with her too
- Would’ve given anything to not have to dissolve what was growing between them.
- He loves her more in the book than he did in the show (and it’s making me sob.)
- He literally is arguing with himself when he is double sleeved
- He almost killed someone at 16 because he looked like his dad
- Also wanted to help the Elliot’s because of his family and his mom who was like Lizzy
- Absolutely does not want to talk about his past and his father/family
- Planning to get drunk because he doesn’t want to talk to himself sober
- Disappointed with his copy for smoking
- Takeshi fter the microsurgery is down at the lake with a little girl who seemed to ‘adopt him’
- He’s actually kind of heartbroken when him and Kristen’s relationship changes after he is resleeved.
- Makes his day that he can still make Ortega laugh before he convinces her to get him some stiff because he thought their dynamic was weird afterwards
- Before he and Reileen fall to their deaths he says, ‘When they ask how I died,' I said, 'tell them: still angry’ as well as ‘that’s fucking enough’
- Once his clone lost to rock paper scissors and was set to die, he asks if he wants him to tell Jimmy anything. I sobbed.
- Kept accidentally talking about Reileen in present terms after she died.
- He gave money to Irene once he’s about to leave for Lizzy. (‘I want there to be something clean at the end of all this, something I can feel good about.’)
- He held Irene after that.
- He attempts to laugh with Ortega before he goes
- His quote saying that no matter what you always leave alone. (‘Whatever world it is, whatever you've done there for better or worse, you always leave the same way. Alone.’)
- His last wishes are for Kristen to get Ryker to stop smoking once he’s out of the store
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crackedpumpkin · 1 year
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Ohmygod bro good job getting your coffee cause I would’ve barely survived that too!!! Good looking people in general really just be paralyzing people for some reason 😭
Cafe hopping really is fun tho, now that I think about it I have a similar story too with fumbling words. I went to this craft store for the first time and was tryna look for string cause I wanted to make those necklace bottle things, I asked the two people working in English, and since they had a hard time communicating with me they literally ran to another working person then running back to find me in the small shop! I didn’t get string in the end but I got the bottle! Could’ve avoided that if I just spoke my native language- but I didn’t cause adults (the older ones in my family) usually made fun of me for it 😭
The little moments really make the big things!! Both of you, amazing writers, no lie. I’ve been thinking of writing too so is it okay if I ask what the advice was? /nf
Michael gets arc’d! No more chip docking! But genuinely based of you to put that much care into your characters and stories 💖
Yes please I didn’t even know fruit-ade is an actual word- I was just making things up-
i aspire to one day be that pretty.
Please the way I wheezed- fr though, never be afraid to speak your own native language! My second language is Chinese and I am horrible at speaking it under pressure. I even got laughed at by my boss - that's how bad it was lmaooo, but honestly i don't really care. I'm just happy it makes people smile and laugh at it alongside me^^
As for the advice given by blake, it was focusing about the small things that led up to the big moment! This is purely my own interpretation though, but essentially always justify their actions. For example, if i make babes fall for miles outta nowhere then it's a little sudden, right? There's gotta be some form of catalyst that caused it in the first place.
Especially in the situation theyre currently in. Neither are entirely sure what they are yet, besides employer and employee. Before even progressing to being lovers and stuff they gotta form some kinda bond first, right? So the main thing for me was how to justify each step in their relationship.
Aka, is it reasonable for them to warm up to each other by this stage?? Or are they still on rocky terms with each other? It's honestly a fun challenge for me to write, because it gives me a chance to put myself in their shoes more thoroughly.
Even irl, there's gotta be a catalyst to make you fall for someone in the first place, right? Maybe one day you notice their eyes are really nice, or maybe you like the way their laugh sounds. Even before that, it's the little things that they do to make you feel safe in the first place :) relationships dont form overnight, after all~
"i would need to read the full thing through but a good rule of thumb for progression is either feeling it out and reasoning through if their reactions make sense or making it clear that time has passed between chapters and giving it a little suspension of disbelief" - @buthowboutno-spamming
bro, when you start writing please tag me in it!! I would love to read your work, and i know you can do it!! Honestly take it from me - dont take things too seriously. Writing is meant to be fun, not stressful. Like, when blank canvas started out it was just for shits and giggles and goofy and fun. thats what i was aiming for the whole time, and i wanted people who read my fic to hopefully smile or even do the lil nose huff thing we all do when we find something on the internet funny ^^
I'll add on a little advice of my own - feel free to ignore it lolol, but essentially:
I find it really helpful to have some form of plan or outline for your fic. Mine s constantly being adjusted, but it helps so much when you write your chapter and maybe realize oh wait iwanna do this here and do that there, and you know where everything should go like a puzzle piece! Something else I'd say is that there doesnt always have to be drama lmao, sometimes a sweet heartwarming fic is enough. You're enough.
Again, the little moments matter, right? That's why in chapter five i just kinda did a little hangout session :)
And omg when i say i am thrilled to write michael's character arc fr. an eureka moment hit me outta nowhere and immediately i RAN to tell @theblindhag because she has been honestly nothig but supportive and an absolutely lovely human bean. Which also kinda reminds me: having a good friend listen to all the crazy ideas in your head is so amazing fr, and i hope you have/will find that friend. Honestly, feel free to send in asks whenever - id be more than happy to have a chat or chill out!
I'll make a post on the fruitade soon, its like 1am where i am rn lmao. keep your eyes peeled for it anon!! it's the actual easiest to make, trust.
As a little bonus extra, allow me to share a little moment from upcoming chapters :)
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serafiel-jacobs · 8 months
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Daily Routine (Fanfic)
New chapter from my main series 🩷
Pinocchio woke up in the morning and got ready for his day, he changed clothes and made his bed, he went to eat breakfast, Pinocchio only ate some fruit because his father was still fixing the kitchen, making small talk with his father before he left for work, telling him to be a good boy while he was gone.
Pinocchio was grounded but at least he wasn’t too upset about it anymore. He decided to start the day by writing a letter to Alice, he had received one from her yesterday, describing her daily life and her other adventures, Pinocchio wrote her back telling her about his daily life, how Gemini can walk around now and how he got a pony. He would have to wait for his father to deliver the letter later, as his father mailed all of it alongside the letters he wrote for Alexander.
Then he decided to draw a little, he thought it would be fun to use Gemini as his model again, putting on a small suit he bought at the store, Gemini was all fancy looking now as Pinocchio began to draw him. Gemini is really happy, he loves it when Pinocchio uses him as a model, it makes him feel pretty, and half of Pinocchio’s sketchbook is him in different poses. Although Pinocchio draws so many different things, drawings of nature, animals like cats or dogs, drawings of houses he sees while outside, sometimes even if it feels a little childish he likes drawing himself and his father together in a simpler style, or drawing himself with his mother or his other loved ones.
After that Pinocchio decides to practice playing the violin, he doesn’t just practice with his mother and he loves playing it even if he isn’t with her, although he can’t practice the piano here since he doesn’t have one at home. This time Gemini decides to join him as well, both playing music together, it’s simple but beautiful, and they should play together more often.
It’s already a little past noon, so he decides to eat something, it has to be something that doesn’t need to be cooked so he decides to make himself a salad, Pinocchio now realizes that the only true thing that he doesn’t know how to do when it comes to making food is how to use a stove or an oven.
Then Pinocchio decides to do his favorite thing, he has accumulated a good amount of books, and his bookshelf is almost full, currently, he doesn’t have any new books to read but he still likes re-reading the ones he already has, specially his fairy tales collection, after all the incredible things Pinocchio has seen, he wonders if all these stories are really just works of fantasy, oh well, real or not they are so fun to read, Gemini now reads them alongside him while he sits on his shoulder.
He puts the book he is reading down, it’s time for him to do his chores, he cleans his room and then goes around the house cleaning, dusting, sweeping, and mopping the floors.
It’s not long before his father comes back home so Pinocchio decides to play a board game with Gemini, now that Gemini can walk around they decide to play a card game, as the cards are something light enough that Gemini can hold in his hand.
“Gemini you can’t add +4 and +2 in the same turn!”
“Oh now you follow the rules of the games we play, what happened to the “those are just suggestions”?”
Pinocchio grabbed Gemini and put him inside his cage, then he started shaking it.
“You brat, This is cricket abuse!”
“Ugh let's play another game”
“You are such a sore loser,” Gemini said as he got out of his cage, feeling dizzy. “We could play chess, we have never played together”
Pinocchio liked that idea, he grabbed the board and settled the pieces, and he went first making his move. Then Gemini made his move, pushing his piece with his body.
“Looks like you are having a lot of fun moving around” Pinocchio was happy that Gemini was happy, as he said that Pinocchio made his next move.
“I am” Gemini had a smug grin on his face, “Check”
Pinocchio looked at the board, seeing that Gemini’s queen was directly against his King, he had no other way to defend it.
Pinocchio tried grabbing Gemini but this time the cricket was faster and started jumping and running to avoid him.
—-
“Son, what are you doing?” Geppetto asked as Pinocchio was kneeling looking behind the couch.
“Nothing” Pinocchio lied, pulling an innocent smile, “Me and Gemini are just playing hide and seek”
Geppetto smiled, “It’s getting late, maybe you should take a bath, you and Gemini can play later”
Pinocchio nodded, a bath was a good idea instead of just a shower. He filled the bathtub with water and soaked in it, he also made a few bubbles with the liquid soap.
“Hi buddy” Gemini jumped to the side of the tub, then jumped to a soap holder that was inside, Gemini using it as a small boat so as to not get inside the water, he is waterproof but he doesn’t want to get wet; he is liking floating in the water like this, maybe he should see about getting a mini boat, it could match with his new tiny tram.
“So you were hiding here”
“This is the last place you were going to look for me”
Pinocchio gave out a sigh he always loses when he plays board games with Gemini.
“Can’t you let me win at least once?”
“Nope, I like seeing you getting mad and turning into a brat”
“I’m NOT a brat!”
“Sure, whatever you say”
They both laughed, even if Pinocchio always loses they had a good time together.
—-
Pinocchio ate dinner and started to watch his father assemble the new stove and oven, he asked him why he doesn’t just read the instructions manual but that was the wrong thing to say because his father went on a rant about how he is a great engineer and assembling a little stove is nothing for him. Pinocchio just nodded at what his father was saying, but he and Gemini looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
It was getting late so Pinocchio got ready for bed, he wrote a few things in his diary about what he had done during the day and about what he had been feeling lately.
After that he went to bed and so did Gemini, both tugging themselves into their respective beds, saying goodnight to each other.
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loveotomization · 1 year
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i got unbaaaanned here's an ask: can i get a behind the scenes for (one of) your fav/s akekita scene/s you've written, any fic 👀 like, how did the idea come to you, or some fun fact abt the writing process... if you have anything to share ^^
Thank you for this!! I've been dying to have an excuse to talk about this stuff, you have no idea!
This wasn't exactly what you asked, but I thought I'd mention that people who have read my stuff in general point out my use of off-the-wall metaphors/similes. If anyone enjoys my little flair in doing this, I highly recommend reading the works of Peter Beagle! I shamelessly stole the technique from him and made it my own. I recommend starting off with The Last Unicorn (it's a classic for a reason), but any of his older works share a similar style (A Fine and Private Place, Folk of the Air). I'm not sure that I would be a writer today without him.
Anyway...
-Fun fact: Akechi is easier for me to write than Yusuke. I, too, am very angry inside and probably just need a hug lol It's cathartic. Although, two years of studying art in college actually helps with writing Yusuke, because I don't need to look up art terms.
-In Aesopica, the ending was highly inspired by my favorite Tokyo Ghoul fic, in which Kaneki turns the tables on Tsukiyama in the end (huge content warnings for that TG fic btw). I loved how satisfying the circular nature of it was and wanted to try something similar. I knew the ending I wanted to create right from the first chapter.
I cannot remember how I came up with the fruit bowl to both mark the passing of time, and the decay of their relationship. But go past me for coming up with that! My 2017 brain was the real mvp.
This is also my longest fic and you will not see me write anything this long again lol I just don't have it in me. Shout out to long fic writers, I'll have some of whatever you're snacking on.
I also remember this being something of a vent fic. I was sad and wanted to my faves to be sad together. While I do enjoy supportive akekit, where they both grow together, I also love when they just make each other worse.
-Sliced Halves, Light Syrup, please imagine me in the grocery store staring blankly at a can of peaches while concocting an entire fic. Writers are very normal people.
This is also my second most popular akekit fic. Fluff sells, I guess. I prefer my darker stuff tbh!
-After Aesopica, my personal favorite of mine is Psychosomatic. I'm shy about my love of organ-fondling since it's not a common thing to be into (there's not even an official ao3 tag for it lol), so I'm grateful to the person on the kink meme for prompting this. Knowing someone else was interested allowed me to put myself out there and write it. I re-read it not long ago just for fun, and it holds up. It's the intimacy of literally touching the insides of someone, you know?
-I'm scrolling through my akekit fics now and wow! I do not remember some of these? Who wrote these while I wasn't looking??
-Kilroy Was Here was going to be serious angst about Akechi forcibly kissing Yusuke so that he would no longer trust him, because he feels like he doesn't deserve trust, blah, blah... But the idea of Yusuke annoying the crap out of him before they got to that point was so funny to me that I had to run with it. If anyone was wondering about my sense of humor, this fic is it. (I am not funny)
-Born to be Posthumous 69 kudos harr harr... I enjoy this one even if it wasn't as popular as some of my others. I remember being depressed and angry and wanting to take it out on Akechi.
This is getting long now, but it was fun! Thank you again! Hopefully this wasn't too far from you asked! Most of my scenes just come to me as I'm writing with a basic idea in mind, so I just toss them in as I go. A humble chef tossing anything she finds in the fridge right into the soup.
Now that I'm back from my writing hiatus I definitely plan to bring out more akekit when I can!
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deathnoterevelations · 5 months
Text
Chapter 4: Manipulation
__________CHAPTER 4: Manipulation___________
After school, Sergio walked through the aisles of the grocery store and stopped at the fruit section. "OH!" Zinji looked at the Apples lustingly. "Yeah yeah, these are the ones!" He yelled excitedly. Sergio nodded and grabbed 2 bags of apples. "You know, all Shinigami love apples. Even the Shinigami King." Zinji said as he followed close behind floating in the air staring intensely at the apples Sergio held. Yeah, You already told me. And I'll be able to use that to my advantage.
I have a new path to get to my house because the cameras the way I usually go are most likely monitored and I don't want my body shape to be too familiar to the police. As Sergio approaches his house, he sees 3 cars in the driveway of his house. The Special Provision for Kira. That must be L. "Heh, looks like somebody's in trouble" Zinji sneered. Dammit, this is the last thing I need. "Is there any immediate way for me to get rid of the Death Note?" Zinji's eyes traced Sergio's face. "Yeah there is, you can get rid of ownership of the Death Note. But you lose all memories of the Death Note and can't see me until you touch the Death Note itself." Sergio had a concerned look. So if I relinquish the Death Note, I won't remember. That's terrible that would mean that I can't be Kira anymore and that would be suspicious that the killings just stop. Not only that but do I really wanna sacrifice everything I've worked for just for this? What if it means nothing at all? Sergio sighed. "Zinji, that's a hard bargain. That will mean I lose everything." Zinji smiled. "Well, Figure it out then heh heh." Sergio clenched his fists. Dammit, this move has me cornered, L wouldn't expect to me counter this in any way. It's a perfect plan. Search the house, then me. No, no I won't go down without a fight. There is a way I can outsmart this. "Fine, but I want you to take these bags of apples, and don't eat any" Zinji frowned. "; And then somehow bargain a Death Note with them with a Shinigami, preferably the Shinigami King himself. After that give my Death Note to my neighbor Alex. Then, give me the Death note you bargained for after a week. Tell him that if he gives the Death note up to the authorities then you will write his name in the Notebook. And tell him to write new names of criminals every day, at least 10. Tell him if he does not comply, he dies." Zinji looked utterly shocked. "Well... That was confusing as hell, but sure why not? So bargain with the Shinigami King to get another Death Note and then give your Death Note to your neighbor Alex. Heh, he's a nice guy. But what's in it for me?" Sergio smirked. "Trust me, this will be fun. Plus, I'll get you your own bag of apples if you successfully carry out my plan Zinji" Zinji Grined. "Deal, now just say 'I release it' and it'll be gone." This plan can work. I have a couple of criminals that will die in the next week, so it perfectly aligns. As long as nothing drastic happens my plan should work. Should I do this? Yes, it's the only way to get out of this. This plan will succeed, you are not getting the better of me L.
"I release it."
Zinji smiled. "See you later, Sergio." Suddenly Sergios eyes widened and was confused. "Wha... Why are there so many cars? Dammit, I need to get home to get on my homework!" Sergio grabbed his bag and ran to his house door. Weird, I can't remember what I was just doing. Eh, don't matter. Sergio opened the front door and was greeted by his father and a couple of men with their faces covered by helmets. They were startled by the sight of Sergio and pulled out their guns when Paul yelled at them. "HEY! Stop it! That's my son, he's fine!" The men all nodded in unison, grabbed Sergio by the arms, and took his bag. "Dad?! What's going on?" Sergio's father sighed and shrugged. After thoroughly checking Sergio's bag, the men asked for his phone. "Oh yes, of course." Sergio handed them his phone and they opened it by using the face scan. After around 20 minutes they concluded that the house and Sergio were not suspicious. "Thank you for your cooperation. Have a great day." One man said and they all walked out of the house. "Thank god they finally left." Sergio sighed. "So what was that even about?" Paul grunted and had a serious expression on his face. "Well, If I have to be honest, L invited me to join the SPK. But he had to do a thorough investigation of our house. At least, that's what I was told." Sergio's face lit up. "So... You're going to be a detective again?" He hasn't even talked about crime since Mom died, and I remember Mom was a part of this SPK. "Well, it's a big decision. But Ultimately this School thing just isn't for me. I wanna help solve cases and bring justice. The right way." Sergio nodded and looked at his father with much enthusiasm. Sergio looked at his dad and smiled. "I'm proud of you, dad." Paul looked at his son with a grateful smile. "Thank you, son. You don't understand how happy that makes me." Sergio hugged his father and embraced the love of his father. My son... Loves me again. Maybe now that I took this job he'll keep acting like this. Sergio gave his father a tighter squeeze before walking upstairs and doing homework. He reached his door and got his StudyBuddy Notesheet out. Time to study, listen to music, and shake off what happened. He grabbed a pencil and started to work.
_______________________________
"We checked the entire list of people that you told us to search, not a single one was suspicious. We also told Paul Hernandez that we only did a check so that he could join the SPK in finding Kira per your command." The tallest one of the 3 said. Near smiled. "Thank you so much. So there was nothing, nothing at all?" The 3 men all agreed no. "Well then, this is interesting. What about Sergio?" Near asked while twirling his hair. "Nothing. Not a single thing. We searched him, his room. There was nothing." Near stopped twirling his hair, and got a disgruntled look. "Well, that sounds almost impossible. I was sure that Kira lived in that area. Did you set up the cameras in all of their houses as I asked?" They all agreed and nodded yes. "Great, you may leave. Again, thank you." They all bowed and walked out. That should be impossible. All my deduction... is wrong? No there must be something I'm overlooking. Near grabbed his tablet and opened the cameras from the day the Death Note was picked up. Okay, so Kira walks down there, and there are only 2 ways out of that street. But the footage is already deleted, damn just great. Near twirled his hair faster, dropping whatever toy was in his hand. So what's the probability that Kira left that street and went somewhere else? Around 50 percent. But something is telling me that the Death Note resides over in that street. And when I watched through their body cams I didn't see a Shinigami with any of them. Is it possible a Shinigami can not be connected to a human? It's unlikely but possible. Great now I'm irritated. Near threw his tablet and laid down on the hard cold floor. There's nothing I can do other than survey the households for 5 days. He checked the cameras of each house until he got to the Hernandez household. There's something about them that feels off. Especially Sergio. He checks Paul's room and he's crying on the edge of his bed. Then switched to Sergio's room where he was studying and playing music. Not a single thing would make them subject to being Kira. I'm being unreasonable. Kira isn't over here. I need to move on.
Just. Move. On.
_____________________________________________
The human whose name is written shall die. _____________________________________________
"Shall you take this candle, and pray in the name of our god Kira?" The tall man said. A fresh young woman nodded and smiled. "Yes, Yes I am." The tall man gave a soft smile. "Good, my child." He grabbed a candle and put it in her hands. "Now, purge the evil off your hands-" He grabbed her hands "These Hands caused so much PAIN. So much EVIL. These hands created so much SIN. But she's here. She came to redeem what was once unredeemable. After going under my wing for 4 months, she's ready to be purged." The other Reapers all clapped and cheered. "NOW! The time has come." The woman nodded and put her right hand inside the candle. The flame burned her skin, scorching every cell on her hand. She screamed and clenched her teeth. "SEE? SEE THE PAIN SHE'S GOING THROUGH?" The woman screamed louder and yelled at the top of her lungs. "Perfect." He takes her left hand out of the candle. It's burnt, the flesh bubbling and a bit of bone sticking out on the knuckles. "Do you see this? Rejoice. Rejoice! She sacrificed her body to join us. To join the only religion that's been proven to help the world. The Religion of Kira. Thank you young Maddie. You are now officially a Reaper." The woman clenched her teeth and forced a smile. The crowd of Reapers clapped and cheered. "You are now pure." Maddie then breathed in and back out. "Thank you all, for inviting me to join your pristine group of Kira. It makes me happy that I am now a part of the Reaper family. Again, thank you" the crowd clapped. The tall man clapped as well and put his own burnt hand in the air. "Maddie is a subject I've never tried harder on. She was a part of the SPK for multiple years, and still is, so we now have an insider of the SPK itself. Their biggest mistake was to let over 50 new members join the SPK. One of the were bound to worship Kira. And Maddie here does." The crowd clapped and Maddie bowed, still gripping her burnt bloody hand. Carl Sat back on a chair clapping but looking at the tall man with much apathy.
You aren't who you say you are. I know you. You're doing this for your gain. To try and eventually get your Death Note. Mek has never suffered a day of his life. He was a perfect student, with a high IQ, born and raised in America. He was popular, tall, and athletic. The perfect citizen. But when Kira came into such high power, he became obsessed. He wanted to harness that power, he wanted to be able to control such a power. The power to kill. His family died in a robbery on a train station in 1999, so when Kira came into the world and killed the murderers of his parents he couldn't help be feel obliged to become a follower. It started with joining 'channel 1: Kira Focus' and speaking about why Kira is right to eventually start his cult following of Kira. He invited me, and then it went from 5 to 10, to 20, to now 31. This group has its rottenness inside the group. It's all so Rotten. Mek picked up his candle and waved for the group to come together. "Relish in the victory of justice. We shall now sing our anthem." They all put their candles in a circle once again and recited the anthem in unison "Kira is Justice. Kira is the Passage into heaven. Kira is the right way in this world. No regrets, no mercy. Just justice." Carl sighed and was about to leave when Mek called his name. "CARL! Please stay, I have a couple of things I wish to discuss with you." Carl groaned carelessly and nodded. "The rest of you are dismissed." The rest of the Reapers besides Carl all left through the large metal door. What could this be about? Mek sighed and sat down with his legs crossed. "Please, Carl, sit." Carl grabbed his candle and sat next to Mek. " I hate to do these things, but before I get to that, I know your plan." Mek blew out his candle. Carl's eyes widened. "You've kept it a secret for a good while. I know you want to take this group down, I've seen your daily logs on your computer." Carl could do nothing but sit and stay still. "Do you wish to die?" Carl kept quiet and turned his head to look away from Mek. "Ugh, you were my best friend man. We could've caught the Death Note together. We could have done so much. But you threw it away. I saw on your logs that you desired to send all of our data information and files to the SPK and United Nations?" Mek blew out Carl's candle. "Don't worry. Nothing will happen to you. You are dismissed." Mek smiled and got up. "Listen, I just don't want this group to become a global power. It's not a church, it's not a powerhouse, it's just a group we made to worship. We shouldn't be chasing something that isn't meant to be chased. That's all." Mek stopped and turned to face Carl. "We could become something greater. Why have one man control who dictates who's evil? We, together Carl, could become the future of the world. All we need is that Death Note." Carl groaned and Shrugged. "Well, you're lying to the others. You say we want to worship Kira when in reality that's just what you want to become."
Mek laughed and rolled his eyes. "You don't understand. You haven't experienced pain. Suffering. lost. Kira cured those, sure, but I won't know that everything is getting settled unless I do it myself. Justice is what I want, not power. I don't wanna become Kira. Because I'm not a murderer. I'm just a leader that wants to change the world." Mek turned his back to leave. "Goodbye Carl, See you tomorrow." He won't listen. He will, eventually, own the Death Note. And when that happens we're doomed. Mek Opened the Iron door and walked out.
New Kira. You are not a god. You're not worthy of the Death Note. I shall find you, take it from you. I will murder you with my hands if It comes to it. Then I truly will...
Become a god of the new world.
_________End of Chapter 4___________
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junghelioseok · 4 years
Text
clandestine. | 05
↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.
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◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.6k [5/6]
notes: second to last installment of a fic that didn’t need to be as long as it is!!! really this entire thing can be summed up with last chapter’s warning, which was “reader is dumb and jungkook is slutty.” i stand by it, okay!!! 🤷🏻‍♀️
warnings: dumb banter, a couple brief smutty bits, oral (f receiving), listen to slow dancing in the dark by joji during the soft smut scene in the middle if u want 
⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 
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“No. No. God, no. Has your music taste always been this bad, or is this a recent development?”
“You will excuse yourself,” you retort sharply, wagging a finger at your brother. “Mr. Brightside is a classic and I will not hear this slander. Please feel free to permanently vacate the premises if you disagree.”
Jimin rolls his eyes from where he’s slouched on the couch beside you, one hand submerged in a bag of chips and his bare feet kicked up on the coffee table. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I’m dramatic? Really? You wanna go there, Chim?” You raise your hand and begin ticking off on your fingers. “I’m not the one who threw a fit over a piece of cilantro in my taco. I’m not the one who refused to bathe when Mom couldn’t find the right bubble bath.”
“Oh my god, I was eight,” Jimin snorts. “Both times. And cilantro tastes like soap.”
You raise a third finger. “What about the time you hid all the Monopoly money because you kept losing? Or when yo—”
A knock on the door cuts you off mid-sentence, and you nudge Jimin’s shin with your big toe. “Go get the door,” you order, and you aren’t sure if he’s just tired of hearing your voice, but he stands up without complaint and wanders into the entryway to receive your unexpected guest.
“Hey,” you hear him say. “What’s up?”
“Hey,” a very familiar voice replies. “I need some help.”
It’s Jungkook. Of course it’s Jungkook. You haven’t seen him since he dropped you off and kissed you senseless in your driveway, but you’d have to be delusional to think that you could avoid him for the next week and a half before you leave to return to Seoul. And yet, you allowed yourself to indulge in your delusions for two full days, before he tears them apart with ten simple, innocent words.
“So, I think I might have done the laundry wrong.”
Jimin laughs out loud, covering his mouth with his hand. “That’s all you, Noona,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at you, and you don’t even have wherewithal to lecture him about the sexism of his remark because Jungkook is smirking like he’s just won the lottery and you’re his grand prize.
“Noona?” he begins, his voice syrupy sweet and thick with intent. “Can you come help me?”
You glance down at your pajamas—gray sweatpants and a pink Pusheen t-shirt that’s a couple sizes too big. It’s beyond obvious that you have no plans for the day, and therefore no excuse not to help. Heaving a resigned sigh, you clamber to your feet and roll your eyes when Jimin immediately flops down across the newly abandoned couch and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Have fun,” he calls lazily as you walk out, and you do your best to ignore the wicked grin that flashes across Jungkook’s face.
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he says as he lets you pass by him to exit the house. “See you later, Jimin.”
As soon as the front door slams shut, you round on him with a glare. “Are you serious, Jungkook?” you hiss. “He’s totally going to catch on to… to whatever it is we’re doing.”
“You’re being paranoid,” Jungkook chides, clicking his tongue. He hops over the low bushes that divide your property, and waits patiently as you skirt around them. You follow him into his house—down the hallway and into a little side room that houses the washing machine and dryer—and as soon as the door swings shut, he’s grabbing you by the hips and pulling you close.
“This—this isn’t how you do laundry,” you stammer weakly, winded by his sudden proximity and the dark promise in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”
Jungkook chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I may have lied a little bit. Would you have come if I hadn’t?”
You don’t answer, because you know he’s right. If you had your way, you would have avoided him until it was time for you to leave again. But Jungkook just doesn’t seem to be willing to let that happen, as he tightens his grip on your hips and tugs until you’re flush against him.
“See, the truth of the matter is, I’m actually good at laundry.” He smirks and tilts his head, dark bangs flopping across his forehead. “I’m good at other things, too. Why don’t you let me show you?”
Attraction blooms in your belly, hot as molten lava, and it takes the last ounce of your wavering restraint to say what you say next. “We can’t take too long,” you whisper, letting him hoist you up onto the dryer and jab the start button. The machine rumbles to life beneath you, and you nearly lose your train of thought when the vibrations go straight to your clit. “Jimin!” you gasp. “Jimin—he’ll kill you if he finds out. He’ll fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”
Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Why are you talking about your brother? Is this your idea of dirty talk, princess? Because I gotta tell you—it’s not doing it for me.”
“Jungkook!” you chide, and he grins and moves to tug off your shirt.
“That’s much better.”
///
In the days that follow your laundry room tryst with Jungkook, sneaking around becomes routine. Both of your parents work—as do his—so avoiding them is easy. Jimin, however, is a different story. The dance classes he teaches are irregular, and the schedule shifts often enough that you’ve come dangerously close to getting caught on more than one occasion.
And it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook has taken to texting you at all hours of the day, even when you’re eating a sandwich on the couch with Jimin half-sprawled across your lap in his effort to invade your personal space as much as possible.
[12:35pm] Jungkook: hey i just thought of something
[12:35pm] Jungkook: you know how i call you princess?
You nearly throw your phone across the room. Cautiously, you glance at your brother, who is glued to the television and doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss.
[12:36pm] You: yeah…
His response is instantaneous.
[12:36pm] Jungkook: well i’ve got a throne for you to sit on
You almost sigh out loud. Please don’t, you write back, and you practically hear Jungkook’s cackle in your head as the ellipses that indicate he’s typing pop up at the bottom of your screen.
[12:37pm] Jungkook: it’s my dick ;)
[12:37pm] Jungkook: get it?
I fucking hate you, you tell him, thumbs flying across the keyboard.
[12:38pm] Jungkook: and i love fucking you
[12:38pm] Jungkook: princess ;)
///
After nearly a week cooped up at your parents’ house, you’re getting restless. Without a car, you’re confined to the suburban neighborhood you grew up in, and the revelation that you’re bored somehow spills out to Jungkook during one of the many heated makeout sessions you’ve started having in the backseat of his sedan.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” he’d asked, tilting his head curiously, mussed hair falling across his eyes. “I can drive you, if you want.”
And that’s how you find yourself wandering around downtown Busan on a beautiful Tuesday afternoon. Jungkook drops you off at the curb after cumming down your throat, and now that he’s dashed off to work the lunch shift at the restaurant, you’re free to explore all of your old haunts. The shopping center that you and your friends used to frequent is right around the corner, so that’s where you decide to start. After all, you’re still in need of some professional attire, and as much as you love your mom, you’d rather avoid the unflattering dresses and itchy pantyhose she would be sure to seek out.
As soon as you step through the glass revolving doors, you find yourself in a familiar air-conditioned paradise of shops and restaurants. Stopping at your favorite coffee spot, you treat yourself to an iced mocha before heading to the first store.
Two hours and three full bags later, you decide to head to the food court for a quick snack. You’d promised Jungkook that you’d meet him at the restaurant once you were finished, but a glance at your phone tells you that you have more than enough time to stop by Kim’s Kitchen. Mrs. Kim makes the best cookies in the entire city, as far as you’re concerned, and you decide to order a dozen to take home and share with your family.
You’re lowering yourself into a seat at one of the many tables scattered around the tree-lined atrium when you spot a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair. The owner spots you a split second later, and you return her smile as she immediately swerves and heads your way. “{Name}, hey!”
“Hey, Chaeyoung,” you greet, gesturing for her to take the chair on the other side of the table. “What are you doing here?”
“Same thing as you, from the looks of it.” She grins and hefts her shopping bag. “I swear I’ve been to every shoe store and still haven’t found what I’m looking for, but somehow I’ve bought this much crap anyway. What about you? What are you on the hunt for?”
“Professional attire,” you say with a grimace. “Why are pants so hard to find? I swear, they’re all either too long or too short, and never fit properly in the waist and thighs.”
Chaeyoung pulls a face. “Ew, I know. Pantsuits are a nightmare unless you have a tailor. And who has money for that?”
You laugh, nodding in agreement. “So what are you up to now? Mrs. Kim has cookies fresh out of the oven, if you’re interested. Cinnamon rolls too, I think.”
“Ooh, that’s tough,” she says thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “Would it be bad if I got both?”
“Not even a little bit,” you assure, reaching into your box and pulling out a cookie. “But here, I’ll make it easier for you. Hope you like chocolate chip.”
Chaeyoung gratefully accepts the cookie you hand over. “Who doesn’t love chocolate chip?” she asks, taking a bite.
“Criminals and heathens,” you reply, snagging a cookie for yourself. “Among others.”
She tilts her head. “Doesn’t Jimin hate chocolate chip?”
“My point exactly.”
Chaeyoung giggles, hiding it behind a manicured hand, and you laugh right along with her. Together, you decide to grab some smoothies, and when you sit back down, the conversation turns to your trip up to the lake house. “Next time, we’ll have to do a girl’s trip,” Chaeyoung says, propping her chin in her palm. “Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve done one. You must’ve been exhausted with all those boys around.”
Unwillingly, your thoughts turn to Jungkook. “It wasn’t that bad,” you say slowly. “It was actually nice, being able to spend some time with them.”
“Who ended up going, anyway? Your brother, obviously. Taehyung? Yugyeom?”
You nod, raising a hand and ticking them off on your fingers. “Jimin, yeah. Taehyung, Yugyeom, Taemin, Minho. And Jungkook.”
If Chaeyoung notices the way you pause before saying the last name, she doesn’t comment on it. Her expression grows pensive, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head as she considers her next sentence. “You must be seeing a lot of him,” she says at last. “Jungkook, I mean.”
You take a massive sip of your smoothie and wonder if you’re imagining the lingering taste of him on your tongue. “Yeah, a bit,” you manage, your voice surprisingly steady. “He games with Jimin a lot.” After a pause, you decide to tell her the truth. “He dropped me off today, actually. Jimin’s working this summer, and I’ve been stuck at home, so he offered to take me downtown on his way to work.”
Chaeyoung hums thoughtfully. “He’s working at a restaurant or something, right?”
“Just a few streets away, yeah.”
Slowly, she nods. “We went out, you know.” Her voice is distant. “Just for a few weeks. He ended it after… well, after we slept together.”
There’s a pause, as Chaeyoung lets you digest this information, and a part of you wants to spill everything to her right then and there. Jisoo told me, you want to say, as acidic guilt begins to bubble up in your belly, every memory of the moments you’ve since shared with Jungkook rising unpleasantly in your throat. I’m sorry. I’m so,so sorry. You say it over and over again in your head, but the apology gets stuck in your throat when you try to voice it aloud.
Chaeyoung takes a sip of her smoothie and leans back in her chair with a sigh, oblivious to your internal struggle. “Maybe I should have seen it coming,” she says, gnawing on the end of the straw. “Everything changed our senior year, you know? It was like a switch had flipped—he started dating around, relationships that never lasted more than a week… I really should have known better when he asked me out. But I guess I thought I was different. We were already friends, after all. But whenever we were together, just the two of us, he was always… distant. Like he was somewhere else, mentally.”
Her words trail off, leaving only silence that you don’t know how to break. Chaeyoung sips at her smoothie again, before huffing out a laugh and waving a manicured hand in your direction. “God, sorry! I can’t believe I just started monologuing, ew. Jungkook this, Jungkook that—god. I’m not even mad at him anymore, you know? I just want him to figure his shit out.” Her eyes flit up to you briefly, before skittering back down to where a cookie crumb has landed on the tabletop. “It’s funny, though. Seeing him at Taehyung’s graduation party was probably the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. He almost seemed like himself again.”
You can’t help it—the singular word bubbles up before you can stop it. “Really?”
Chaeyoung nods, her gaze flickering up to meet yours again. “Really. And honestly? I think it was because of you.”
Your heart does a series of backflips in your chest, thudding against the slats of your ribs. You try to respond, try to find the words, but they stick in your dry throat and your smoothie is practically gone at this point. Chaeyoung shrugs, unfazed by your silence, and you watch as she swirls her straw around in the remainder of her own drink. “I don’t know—maybe I’m imagining things. But it always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Didn’t he used to follow you around the playground?”
The memory draws a startled laugh from your lips. “Sure, yeah. But that was in elementary school.”
Chaeyoung shrugs, smiling around her straw. “Still. We never really forget our first crush, do we?”
///
You head over to the restaurant after bidding Chaeyoung goodbye, her words weighing heavy on your mind and your heart. Through the tall glass windows, you can just barely make out Jungkook—looking sharp in a black collared shirt and matching slacks as he greets a table of diners. His smile is warm and his stance is confident, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s grown from that gangly kid you knew back in grade school when you catch the edge of flirtation lingering in his gaze.
The boy who used to follow you around the playground is gone. There’s no doubt in your mind about that. And so, you take a deep breath and walk into the restaurant, doing your best to smile at the host who greets you and asks whether you’d like to sit at a table or the bar.
“Hey, you made it!”
Jungkook strides over with a grin, taking the menu off the host’s hands and leading you over to an empty seat at the bar. “It’s full service, so you can order food here, too,” he explains. “You hungry? Thirsty?”
You glance down at the menu he places on the counter, scanning the lines of text. “Not really, but it smells really good so I might get something to go. And this carbonara sounds really good, actually.”
“It is,” Jungkook confirms. “I’ll go put the order in. You want some water or anything to drink?”
“Water’s good,” you tell him, and he nods before trotting off to do his job. You watch him disappear to the back of the restaurant before reappearing with a tray of glasses, and follow his meandering path through the tables as he disperses drinks and checks on the guests. Somehow, his shoulders manage to look even broader in his black shirt, and you can’t ignore the way they taper into a narrow waist that’s only emphasized by the belt threaded through the loops of his dark slacks.
He’s stopping at the table you first saw him at now, leaning in close when one of the women seated there asks him a question about something on the menu. His smile oozes easy charm, and you can’t help the feeling that flares in your chest when she reaches for the menu and purposely lets her fingertips graze his hand. Frowning, you tear your gaze away and focus on the wood grain of the bar counter. Your eyes zero in on a smattering of water droplets near your left arm, and you’re just about to run a fingertip through them when a voice sounds to your right.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
Surprised, you look up and find yourself face-to-face with a man who appears to be in his early thirties. Dark hair is brushed away from his forehead, a stray lock falling into his eyes, and you find yourself momentarily at a loss for words when your brain registers just how handsome he is.
“I—uh. I think Jungkook is going to grab me some water,” you finally manage, wanting nothing more than to melt into the ground when you hear the stammer in your voice.
“Ah, you know Jungkook?” The man laughs—a sound that is distinctly reminiscent of a squeaky windshield wiper. “He’s been pretty busy today, so why don’t I grab you that water instead?”
You nod, watching as he fills up a glass from the nozzle below the bar, accepting it when he hands it over. “Thanks.”
“Name’s Seokjin,” the man replies with an easy grin. “What’s yours?”
You return his smile and tell him your name. “Seokjin—Jungkook’s mentioned you a few times, I think. This is your place then, isn’t it?”
Seokjin beams. “Yep! Opened just a few months ago, after we finally sorted out the rat infestation and the asbestos problem in the rafters, and—” He pauses at the dumbfounded look on your face, and several beats pass before another peal of squeaky laughter escapes him. “I’m kidding. One-hundred percent. I promise the whole place is up to snuff.”
“So, I see you’ve met Seokjin.” Jungkook materializes at your side with a glass of water, which he takes a sip out of upon realizing that you already have a drink. “Is he making jokes about the health code again?”
“I would never,” Seokjin sniffs, and you laugh, finding yourself completely at ease for the first time since you entered the restaurant.
Jungkook rolls his eyes good-naturedly and turns his attention back to you. “Your carbonara should be out in a few,” he says, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”
“Positive,” you assure him. “I’m full of chocolate chip cookies, anyway. Here, you want one? They’re still a little warm.”
Jungkook eyes the box you pull out of your bag hungrily. “Hell yes. I can smell them from here.” Laughing, you push the box toward him and watch as he pulls a cookie out and takes an enormous bite. “Thanks,” he says in between chews, his cheeks puffy. You can’t help but smile when he takes a sip of water to wash it all down, his eyes growing round.
Turning to Seokjin, you offer him a cookie as well, which he declines with a graceful wave. “I should be feeding you, not the other way around,” he remarks. “You got the carbonara, right? I’ll go see if it’s ready.”
With one last glance at the patrons sitting at the bar, Seokjin departs with a promise to be back in five minutes. Jungkook finishes off his cookie, and you’re considering offering him another when a familiar chirpy voice sounds from your left.
“Wow, it smells amazing in here! What do you think—should we sit at the bar?”
You whirl in the direction of the voice, your eyes immediately landing on a group of three girls standing near the entrance. Two of them you don’t recognize, but the third you’ve seen before. Mina, you’re pretty sure her name was, and you’d recognize her anywhere. The last time you’d seen her was at the restaurant on the night of Jimin’s and Jungkook’s graduation, and your face heats at the memory of everything else that transpired that night.
“Welcome!” Jungkook draws you out of your thoughts, and you turn to see that he’s wearing a bright, welcoming smile. “Were you looking to sit at the bar, or at a table? It looks like there are a few empty spots at the end of the bar, if you ladies would prefer that. Otherwise, I can take you to a table.”
Mina’s face lights up in recognition, and you’re forced to hide your scowl in your water glass. “Hey, we’ve met before, haven’t we?”
“You work at that place a few blocks down, right?” Jungkook jabs a thumb in the general direction of the street. “I’ve seen you around.”
She giggles and tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “That’s right, yeah! I remember you now. Graduation, right? You were my best table of the night.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I bet you tell everyone that.”
“Not a chance,” Mina answers, looking him up and down before a coy smile curves her lips again. “I only say what I mean.”
“Honesty is the best policy,” Jungkook says agreeably. Then he turns to you, distractedly fiddling with his apron as he speaks. “Jin should probably be back with your food soon. Are you okay to sit here by yourself for a bit?”
You can only nod, still staring down into your water glass. “Yeah, sure. Go on, then.”
He smiles and gestures for Mina and the girls to follow after him, and you’re positive you don’t imagine the triumphant look that flashes across Mina’s face before she departs. Frowning, you grab a cookie from your box and break a piece off, grateful for the distraction. Seokjin drops off your carbonara a minute later, and you find yourself suddenly ravenous as you dig into the steaming bowl of spaghetti.
Jungkook returns to your side about five minutes later, raking a hand through his hair as he replaces his notebook back in his apron pocket. “Man, I’m beat,” he remarks. “Thank god Mina and her friends didn’t order anything complicated. My brain would’ve exploded.”
“Thank god for that,” you echo dully. Unwillingly, your gaze drifts over to where Mina is now sitting, chatting happily with her friends. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Seeing Mina here, of all places. I mean, what is she even doing here?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this, but most people go out and have fun on their days off,” Jungkook responds dryly, a grin breaking across his face when you roll your eyes at him. “Or wait… could it be that you’re jealous?”
You scowl. “Don’t be stupid.”
Jungkook just laughs, tilting your chin up with two fingers so he can look you in the eye. “It’s okay,” he says, his thumb brushing softly along the corner of your lips. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, princess.”
You don’t know how to respond to that, and thankfully you don’t have to. Seokjin returns with a takeout container for you to put your leftovers in, shrugging off your gratitude when you offer it.
“I’m discounting your food, too,” he says, leaving zero room for argument. “Any friend of Jeon’s is a friend of mine.”
Jungkook’s shift ends half an hour later. He turns on his roadtrip playlist on the drive home, and you are more than happy to let the music wash over you, eliminating any need for conversation and drowning out your thoughts.
“See you later, princess,” he says once he’s pulled into your driveway, following your every move as you climb out of the passenger seat.
It sounds like a promise coming from his lips, and you can only nod. “See you.”
///
You’re in the middle of buttering a piece of toast for breakfast the next morning when there’s a knock on the front door. Perturbed, you walk over to answer it, wondering if perhaps Jimin has forgotten his keys again, but when you peer through the peephole it isn’t Jimin who stares back at you.
“Jungkook—” you begin, swinging open the door, but he cuts you off before you can finish, taking your face in his hands and pressing his mouth to yours.
“Hey,” he whispers once he’s had his fill, pulling back just enough to mumble the greeting against your lips. “They’re all gone for the day, right?”
“Yes,” you confirm, still reeling from the suddenness of his appearance and the subsequent kiss. “But how did you—?”
“Jimin told me,” Jungkook answers shortly, before pulling you close and kissing you again. This time, you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his mouth against yours, following his lead as he ushers you back upstairs and breaking the kiss only once in the process. He lays you down onto your bed, the mattress dipping under your combined weight, and you sigh when he moves down to nip at your neck.
“No marks, Jungkook,” you remind him breathily. “You can’t leave marks.”
A low whine escapes him. “Can’t you wear a scarf?”
“It’s the middle of summer!” you huff in amusement, smacking his arm when he whines again and stubbornly sucks at the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder.
Jungkook’s breath is hot against your skin. His fingers find the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them off your hips and down your legs, and you kick them off as soon as they’ve reached your ankles. Hungrily, his gaze traverses the newly revealed skin, and you shiver when he gently trails his fingertips up your calves and all the way to the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “Jungkook,” you sigh. “I haven’t shaved in days.”
“Ask me if I care,” he replies hoarsely, leaning down to press the flat of his tongue against the growing damp spot seeping through the cotton of your underwear. It’s far from your sexiest pair—you’d categorize them as granny panties, in all honesty—but Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit fazed as he hooks them aside and licks a broad stripe all the way up to your clit. “Want you,” he groans, and the vibrations from his voice send a volt of tingling electricity straight up your spine. “Want you in every way I can have you.”
You don’t respond. You don’t have to, because Jungkook is diving in with the enthusiasm of a man starved, tossing your underwear aside carelessly before banding his arms around your legs to hold you open. His face disappears between your thighs until only the top of his hair is visible, the dark strands mussed. Lips parting in a moan, your fingers find their way to his head, tangling at his roots, and Jungkook parts from your cunt briefly to groan his approval. Then he’s eating you out again—alternating between broad licks and teasing flicks to your clit before his tongue delves into your entrance, inhaling deeply as if he just can’t get enough.
The sun rises higher into the sky, beaming through your window and illuminating Jungkook’s head and shoulders in warm, hazy gold. You chant his name as you reach your high, spurred on by his teasing tongue and whispered words of encouragement, and the grin he wears when he straightens back up is near blinding. Slowly, he peels off his shirt and shucks off his jeans until he’s completely bare before you, the sun painting him in warm strokes of color. Deliberately, he crawls up your body, hiking up the hem of your shirt as he does. He plants kisses into your newly bared skin, and when he reaches your lips he settles there as if that’s where he’s meant to be.
Jungkook kisses you slowly. He kisses you deliberately—sensually—and you melt into his gentle touch, relishing in the feel of his bare body pressed so intimately against yours. You don’t miss the way his cock hardens against your thigh, but Jungkook seems to be in no hurry to do anything about it. Instead, he cups your cheeks and licks into your mouth, and you’re all too willing to part beneath him like a flower in bloom.
The rest of the afternoon passes like this—hot kisses and slow fucking, the two of you meshing until you’re no longer sure where you end and he begins. You keep an eye on the time, though, and by the time your parents and Jimin return home, you and Jungkook are showered and dry, sitting on the living room floor embroiled in a Mario Kart tournament.
“No fair! You played without me?” Jimin whines, plopping down between you and trying to wrest the controller away from Jungkook. “C’mon, let me have a turn. You’ve been at it all day!”
Jungkook’s gaze flickers up past Jimin’s shoulder to meet yours, his lips twitching in barely suppressed mirth. “Yeah. We sure were.”
///
“God, I’m going to be sore for the next month.”
“Don’t be such a drama queen,” your brother snorts, squeezing your cheek between his thumb and index finger like you’re a small child. His three o’clock dance class has just wrapped up, and people are slowly filtering out of the studio. A few of the younger women glance back toward where you’re standing with Jimin, and you have no doubt they’re vying for one last look at your brother in his tight-fitting joggers and loose tank that keeps drooping off one shoulder. Rolling your eyes, you suppress the urge to loudly bring up the time he walked into a sliding glass door and nearly chipped his tooth. Instead, you pinch his cheek back, and laugh when he pouts.
“Ow, hey! What happened to giving me all your love and support?”
“Please, Mom made me come to your class,” you retort, batting his invasive hand away. “I think she just wanted me out of the house.”
Jimin laughs. “Can’t blame her. You’re a goddamn freeloader.”
“Seriously? Because in that case, I’m dying to hear what that makes you.”
Thoroughly nonplussed, Jimin pinches your other cheek before dancing away on light feet. “I’m an angel. Now go away, so I can get ready for my next class!”
Rolling your eyes again, you heft your bag over your shoulder and turn on your heel. “Fine, fine. Good luck, and all that. See you at dinner.”
Jimin doesn’t respond, and when you peer over your shoulder at him, he’s already sprawled on the floor and reaching for his toes in the unmistakable first step of his warm-up routine. He waves when he sees you watching, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully before exiting the studio and heading for the door. You’ve borrowed your dad’s car for the day, and hum cheerily as you climb into the driver’s seat.
You spend the rest of the afternoon running errands—stopping by both the post office and the bank before heading for the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for dinner. By the time you get back home, Jimin has finished teaching at the studio as well, and you fix him with a stare as you plop two full bags of groceries in front of him on the kitchen counter.
“Care to help me carry the rest in?”
“Not really,” he replies, but he stands up and follows you outside to the car nonetheless.
Once all the groceries are inside and unpacked, you begin prepping for dinner. Jimin, to his credit, offers his help without you even having to ask, and with his assistance you finish cooking in record time. Your parents join you in the dining room, and together you enjoy the meal over the evening news.
You retire to your room after dinner, cracking open your laptop to go over the details of your internship for the umpteenth time. You’ve read the emails and the attached documents so many times you practically have them memorized, but the anxiety gnawing at your belly refuses to be quelled. You’re returning to Seoul in less than a week, and your empty suitcase sits in the corner of your childhood bedroom like a taunt. You wonder, briefly, if you should start packing.
“Nah, it can wait,” you decide, muttering the words to your nonexistent audience. Standing up, you stretch lazily before exiting your room and heading down the hall to the bathroom that you and Jimin share, muffling a yawn behind your hand.
You’ve just finished brushing your teeth when your phone vibrates against the bathroom counter, a notification lighting up your screen. Spitting into the sink and rinsing off your toothbrush, you towel off your face before picking up your phone, blinking owlishly at the text.
[11:08pm] Jungkook: can you come over?
By itself, it’s not an unusual request. At this late an hour, though, you can’t help the unease that rises up in your belly. And as if sensing your apprehension, your phone vibrates again.
[11:09pm] Jungkook: my parents are out
[11:09pm] Jungkook: please? i could use some company
There’s an edge of desperation in his last message—something you haven’t seen in him since you returned home. It reminds you a bit of the Jungkook you used to know—the scrawny, gangly one with a nose too big for his face and an all-encompassing fear of the opposite sex. Give me ten minutes, you tell him.
Okay, Jungkook writes back. See you soon.
The next few minutes are a blur. You slather on some moisturizer and consider changing out of your pajamas and putting on a bra, but dismiss the thought immediately. Jungkook has seen you in far less, and you’re staunchly opposed to putting a bra back on after a certain hour of the night. Besides, he’s sure to dispose of your clothes at some point, so there’s little point in changing. With that thought in mind, you tiptoe out into the hall, past your parents’ bedroom and Jimin’s closed door. You carefully edge around the creakiest floorboards and hop over the two steps in the staircase that always groan when subjected to additional weight. Gingerly, you edge open the front door, just enough to slip out into the night.
The trek across the yard doesn’t take long, and Jungkook swings the door open before you even get a chance to knock. “Hey,” he says, and you can’t help but smile at the familiar round glasses perched on his nose. He’s in his pajamas as well—a blue and white checkered set that’s about two sizes too big—and when he ushers you inside, you catch a whiff of his floral laundry detergent.
“Hey,” you say. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Long day,” he sighs, raking a hand through his already tousled hair and mussing it further. “Come on in. You want anything to drink?”
You shake your head, stepping into the entryway and watching as he closes and locks the door again. Jungkook nods and shuffles to the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of water from the faucet and downs half of it in one swig. His throat bobs as he swallows, his head tilted back to expose the long line of his neck, and you step a little closer as he turns to refill the glass.
“On second thought, maybe I’ll have some water too.”
“Mm. Okay.” Jungkook turns and fetches a second glass, filling it to the brim before handing it over. Then he takes your free hand and leads you upstairs, taking a left turn into his bedroom and nudging the door closed with his foot.
“So…” you begin slowly, putting your water down on the nightstand and reaching for the hem of your shirt. “We need to be quick. My mom’s a light sleeper, and I’m pretty sure I heard Jimin playing games in his room when I walked by.”
Jungkook chuckles and lays his hands over yours, stilling your attempt to take off your shirt. “When did you turn into such a horndog, Noona? Maybe I just want to hang out.”
You blink. “Did you just want to hang out?”
Jungkook plops onto his bed and grabs you by the waist, tugging you down and into his lap. “I mean, yeah—I thought that was obvious. Figured we could watch a movie or something.” Grabbing the tv remote, he switches on the television hanging on the opposite wall. “Any suggestions?”
You hesitate. You’ve been in Jungkook’s bedroom just once since you’ve come back, and the memory of the way he’d bent you over the desk in the corner sends a pulse of heat to your cheeks. Tearing your gaze away from the piece of wooden furniture, you instead focus on the television screen, watching as he navigates over to the Netflix menu.
“We can go old school too, if you want,” he remarks as he scrolls through the list of new arrivals. “I have a DVD player.”
That draws a laugh from your lips. “When was the last time you purchased a DVD? Last I checked, you only had Kung Fu Panda, Iron Man, and two copies of Titanic for some reason that you still won’t tell me.”
Jungkook laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Call it human error,” he says, looping his arms comfortably around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder. “How do you feel about going super old school? I can get the VHS player out of the basement and pop in one of the Pokémon movies.”
“I’m sure we won’t have to resort to that,” you assure him, grinning. “Here, why don’t we just watch Iron Man? Three’s your favorite, right?”
“Three is everyone’s favorite,” he says, scrolling over to the appropriate menu and clicking play. “It’s the best one, hands-down.”
“Won’t argue with you there.”
The movie starts, and you shift off Jungkook’s lap to switch off the lights. Darkness overtakes the room as the screen lights up with the opening credits, and when you return to the bed, Jungkook has sprawled comfortably against the pillows lining the headboard. His eyes remain glued to the screen even as he reaches for you, and you hesitate for only a second before joining him, laying down beside him and letting his arm find its way around your shoulders. The scent of floral laundry detergent fills your nostrils, and you subtly nestle a bit closer, resting your head on his chest.
This isn’t the first time Jungkook has seen this movie. You know this for a fact, yet that doesn’t change how raptly he watches the screen, the action sequences reflected perfectly in his glasses. He’s practically vibrating with excitement by the time of the final showdown, mouthing along to the lines, and you hide your smile in the blue-and-white squares of his pajama shirt as the music swells.
It’s well past midnight by the time the credits roll. Jungkook seems perfectly content to lie on his bed with his arm around you, and when you make to get up, his grip slides down to your waist to hold you in place. “You gotta watch the credits all the way through,” he says, blinking at you with bleary eyes now that the adrenaline from the final showdown has worn off. “There’s a post-credits scene, remember?”
You shake your head, but let him pull you back down onto the mattress regardless. “I’m sure you already know what it is. Why don’t you just tell me?”
“What’s the fun in that?” he asks with a grin.
The end credits continue—an endless stream of names scrolling down the screen. Your eyes begin to droop, the words blurring together, and it’s only when the music stops and the final scene begins that you jolt awake. Jungkook is faring no better than you are, suppressing a yawn behind his hand as he watches the last bit of the film through half-lidded eyes. Then the screen goes dark, and silence descends over the room once more. You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand and see that it’s nearly two in the morning. A look back at Jungkook reveals that both his eyes have fallen shut, and you slowly begin wriggling free from his embrace in order to head home.
You’ve barely moved an inch when Jungkook’s arm tightens around your waist. “Stay,” he mumbles sleepily, one eye cracking open.
You should say no. You should head home to the safety of your own bed. But there’s something about Jungkook—something soft and fond in his tired gaze and something vulnerable in the way he’s holding you so tightly against his pajama-clad body with his hair in complete disarray and his round glasses askew. Heaving a sigh, you reach up to take them off his face, placing them neatly on his nightstand.
“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll stay.”
Jungkook smiles sleepily and shuts his eyes. “G’night, then, Noona.”
“Night, Jungkookie.”
Within seconds, his breathing evens out, and you know he’s off in dreamland. Twisting in his grasp, you tug your phone out of your pocket and set a quick alarm for six o’clock. Neither of your parents wake up until seven at the earliest, and Jimin would sleep until three in the afternoon if he could get away with it, so you’re certain that you’ll have plenty of time to sneak back into the house. Besides, Jungkook’s bed is comfortable, and his chest is practically a furnace against your back. You aren’t sure you could work up the energy to leave even if you tried.
So instead, you settle back into his embrace and let sleep whisk you away.
///
There are birds chirping outside the window when you open your eyes the next morning, blinking blearily against the sun shining through the curtains. The blanket is tangled around your legs and there’s an arm looped around your waist, and you sit bolt upright when realization dawns. Jungkook groans and mumbles something unintelligible, but you don’t pay him any mind as you twist out of his grasp, clutching for your phone on the nightstand.
7:03am.
Shit.
Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you rise to your feet and shove your phone into the pocket of your pajama pants. Jungkook makes a sound that vaguely resembles your name, and you spare him a glance as you fumble for your shoes. He’s flat on his back, blinking hair out of his eyes as he fights to stay awake. “Hey,” he manages, his voice raspy.
“I gotta go,” you whisper urgently, successfully putting your shoes on the right feet and wrenching the door of his bedroom open. And then you turn and dash out, leaving a very sleepy, very disheveled Jungkook blinking after you.
Your house, when you carefully crack open the front door and poke your head inside, is quiet. Much to your relief, you don’t hear any of the telltale signs that your family is awake and downstairs yet—no drip of the coffee maker and no sizzle of bacon or eggs. From upstairs, however, you can distantly hear the sound of the shower, so you dart inside and toe off your shoes, padding into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. You check the alarm you’d set the night prior as you scoop coffee grounds into the filter, and curse under your breath when you realize you’d somehow managed to select six PM instead of AM.
You’re seated in the living room with a mug of fresh coffee when Jimin shuffles in with damp hair and a sleepy frown. “You’re up early,” you remark.
“I have a morning class to teach,” he replies, yawning widely as he grabs a fresh mug. “What’s your excuse?”
You shrug. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Fair enough.”
Suppressing another yawn, your brother turns his attention to the refrigerator, rooting around for the milk. And you return yours to the window, where you can see the side of the Jeon’s house, and Jungkook’s bedroom window on the second floor. There are no signs of life from within, and you wonder if he’d gone back to sleep after your departure. Considering how tired he’d looked last night, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had.
Chaeyoung’s voice echoes in your mind then, soft and wistful. It always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. And honestly? I think it was because of you. We never really forget our first crush, do we?
And then Jisoo’s words rise up in your brain, just a bit louder. He’s a heartbreaker. He never, ever stays until the morning.
So why, then, did you wake up in his arms today?
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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years
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Rebuilding Family
Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
A/N: i hit 200 followers!! as celebration, i put out a list of 40 prompts and you can send me an ask with up to three and i will write a one-shot including them! i have already received one request and i’m already in the process of writing it but i would love to write more!
Masterlist
Chapter 23
You inhaled sharply as you sat up in the hospital bed. Spencer looked at you, concerned.
“The doctor gave you the option to stay here for one more night. Are you sure you want to be discharged today?” Spencer asked.
“I need to go home. It’s so boring here. I’ll heal quicker at home, I promise,” you whined.
“Scientifically, that’s not possible but fine. Don’t think for a second that I’m going against the doctor’s orders though. Bed rest for a week,” Spencer brushed the stray hairs off your face and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“You’re no fun,” you pouted as he helped you into the wheelchair.
“I think Jo and Penelope have a little surprise for you waiting at home that will cheer you up,” Spencer smiled.
-
Spencer insisted on carrying you bridal-style through the front door because you couldn’t walk up the steps.
“We’re not officially married yet,” you teased.
“Oh hush, I’d keep you in my arms forever if I could,” he pulled you closer to his chest.
You snuggled into his cardigan that smelled like an old bookstore, “I guess I wouldn’t mind that either.”
Spencer slowly put you down and opened the door to your bedroom. Technically, it was you and Spencer’s shared bedroom now because he hardly ever used his bedroom now other than as storage for his things. Most of his clothes had already migrated to your closet and one of your bedside tables now had piles of books, a journal with chicken scratch, and his reading glasses atop it.
Inside, you saw Jo and Penelope holding heart balloons that said “Get Well Soon!” and a big teddy bear.
“Awww, thank you, my lovelies,” you smiled.
“I brought the mini fridge from my office so you are fully stocked with waters, juice, ice cream, fruit, whatever your little heart desires,” Penelope chirped.
“Thank you, Pen. You didn’t have to do that. I feel bad now. Where are you going to put your lunch?”
“Nonsense, my dear! There’s a fridge in the break room I can use. Don’t worry about me,” she assured you.
“And I made you drawings, Mommy,” Jo gestured to the walls of the room covered in colorful crayon sketches of animals, dinosaurs, trees, and people.
“Oh my god, these are so gorgeous, Jo! They are definitely going to help me get better, thank you.”
Jo hopped up on the bed to give you a hug.
“You’re welcome, Mommy,” she said as you planted a kiss on her head.
“Alright, I’m going to head out. Let me know if there’s anything I or anyone else at the BAU can do, literally anything, you just name it,” Penelope stated.
“Bye, Pen. Thank you so much,” you waved.
“Do you want soup? Spring rolls? Tea? What can I do for you, love?” Spencer eagerly asked.
“Could you please see if we have the ingredients for a cake for a special little 7 year-old?” you grinned.
“One cake, coming right up,” Spencer nodded, “Jo, do you want to help or stay with Mommy?”
“Stay with Mommy,” Jo grabbed the TV remote and curled into your side.
“Can you handle it?” you asked hesitantly, knowing baking wasn’t really Spencer’s forte.
“I will try my best,” he smiled, “And if not, I will go to the store.”
-
An hour later, Spencer opened the bedroom door, holding a chocolate cake with purple candles. He looked absolutely adorable, he was wearing your sunflower apron and he had flour residue on his nose.
“As promised,” he smiled, setting the cake down.
Jo was practically drooling as the cake was set in front of her.
“Hold on, I need to get plates and forks!” Spencer rushed out of the room and down the stairs.
“You better hurry. Jo looks like she is ready to just start eating it with her hands,” you laughed.
-
A week later, you woke up super early and jumped out of bed, dancing around a little in Spencer’s sweater, your PJ shorts, and fuzzy socks.
“Bed rest is over!” you cheered quietly to yourself, going downstairs to make banana bread.
Spencer came down fifteen minutes later as you were dancing around the kitchen to your music and whisking the batter.
“Bed rest is over,” you beamed as he came up behind you, tucking his chin into your neck and squeezing you softly, leaving a kiss as he pulled away.
“I love you,” he grinned.
“And I love you too...Spence, I was thinking…” you turned to face him after you put the pan in the oven.
“About what?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with his mug of coffee.
“I don’t want to wait any longer. Can we please get married already?” you asked.
“Like now now?” he smiled softly.
“Like as soon as we can but still having a small ceremony so our friends and family don’t kill us for eloping,” you placed your hands on his chest.
“JJ and Will had their wedding in Rossi’s backyard,” Spencer suggested.
“Penelope did say if we needed anything, just ask,” you grinned.
Spencer already had his phone out of his pocket before you could say anything else. He dialed Rossi and put it on speaker.
“Reid, to what do I owe this pleasure on a lovely Tuesday morning,” Rossi spoke through the phone.
“Hey, Rossi. Y/N and I kind of have a big favor to ask,” Spencer began.
��Name it.”
-
Everything was a whirlwind after that. You decided Saturday evening would be best for the wedding so you and Spencer had exactly five days to coordinate your wedding.
Luckily, the team took care of most of the planning like the caterer and the set-up of Rossi’s backyard but you and Spencer’s opinions were still needed for everything from which flowers you wanted in your bouquet to what flavor of cake.
You and Spencer sat in bed one night criss-cross across from each other and you each had a little journal and pen in your hand. You both wrote your vows over the next hour. Spencer would occasionally look up at you, stare for a minute, silently smiling, and then continue jotting something down.
Spencer pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose and leaned over your journal.
“No peeking!” you rolled on your back, flailing your legs so he couldn’t get to your journal.
“Ugh fine, I surrender,” he laughed, grabbing on to your legs to stop your movements, “I guess I can wait 3 more days.”
He leaned down to kiss you.
“3 more days,” you repeated with a dreamy smile.
-
You and Jo met the BAU ladies at a boutique to get dresses for everyone. You had decided on a dusty blue for the bridesmaid dress color but you let them choose which style they wanted so everyone was matching but still got to decide which dress they liked best.
Jo was essentially given free rein in the children’s section of the store and chose a pale pink dress with a bow on the back that would serve as her flower girl dress.
After all that was settled, everyone gathered on the couch near the fitting room to watch you try on dresses, you had been saying from the start that you just wanted something simple. All the options in the store were overwhelming to you but the girls insisted you at least try on a little of everything to get a feel for it.
You came out in a huge poofy wedding dress courtesy of Penelope.
Jo burst out in giggles, “Mommy looks like a cupcake.”
“I think anything overly poofy is ruled out. I want to be able to pee without the help of 3 bridesmaids,” you walked back into the fitting room.
Next was a gown with lots of detailed beading and lace and a long train.
“I think it’s too much,” you sighed, “Plus, I don’t want to trip on this train while walking down the aisle,” you returned to the stall.
You walked out of the dressing room once more and everyone gasped.
“Oh my god,” Penelope was fanning her face to dry the fast-forming tears.
“Y/N, I don’t want to speak for you but I think this is the one,” JJ smiled.
The dress you were wearing was a white satin gown. It was a maxi dress with spaghetti straps and it hugged your hips but was loose around your legs so it was still comfortable.
“It’s perfect,” you smiled softly, looking in the mirror.
Jo hopped off of Emily’s lap and joined you on the little stage, still in her flower girl dress, doing a little twirl. You started to cry from all the happiness and pent-up excitement you were feeling.
-
“Hey, how’d it go?” Spencer asked when you got home.
You rounded the corner to the couch where he was laying.
“That good?” he asked.
“What?” you furrowed your brow, looking at him in confusion because you hadn’t said anything yet.
“You have remnants of mascara on your cheeks indicating that you were crying and that means you must have found the perfect dress because Jo is over there grinning like a fool,” Spencer smiled.
“You know you’re a retired profiler, right?” you teased.
“Mommy looked so pretty, Daddy! You wouldn’t even believe it!” Jo exclaimed.
“Oh, I believe it, Princess,” Spencer lifted Jo up on to his lap, “I know it’s against the rules for me to see Mommy’s dress but can you do a fashion show for me with yours?”
Jo nodded enthusiastically, running up to her room with the bag in her hand.
“Ready!” she called out a few minutes later.
“Now introducing your royal highness, Princess Josephine Y/L/N-Reid,” Spencer announced as Jo walked down the stairs, doing a fancy royal wave.
A/N: i absolutely can not wait to write the wedding chapter
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sebchalex · 2 years
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass it to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖
thank you, Meo, and thank you, @saintlysebchal who also asked me on my main blog!! <33
Schadenfraude: 7k, mark/seb, E
As days come and go by, it seems that Sebastian has an ultimate mission in his mind, which is to make Mark rip his hair out in frustration. It would be fine if only he isn't succeeding.
I really liked writing this one! researching this was incredibly fun because I got to read Aussie Grit and laugh at all the things written about Seb from Mark's POV. I especially liked bringing my own spin on the nightmare twink RBR persona of Seb, he's so insanely unhinged but also cleverly complicated underneath!
running in the shadows: 3k, charles/seb & daniel, E
Daniel should really stay off other team's garages, for his own sake.
to this day I'm still so proud of myself for making the ‘Daniel/his hand’ tag LMAO. this was my first Sebchal work! wrote this in one sitting. had to rest my fingers afterwards. worth it tho!
building on dreams: 35k, alex/pierre, minor lewis/seb, M
Alex works at a pet store owned by the Hamilton-Vettel household. There’s a really hot French barista in the new cafe down the street, and maybe Alex wants to get to know him a little.    
I ADOREEE this one so much. I have a soft spot for long non-famous AUs, I think they’re so cute and fun. the pairing was kinda rare so I didn’t expect many people to read it but people did!!! and I’m so grateful for it :’D this was SO FUN to make, it was my first planned out + fully outlined multi-chapter fic. I love this universe so much honestly and had a blast writing in all the cameos!
sweet as blood-red jam: 4k, mark/oscar, E
Mark has had a few dalliances with a certain type throughout his career, but certainly not like this. 
another porny plot that was written in one-sitting 🤪 I actually chickened out in the middle of writing it, but then I saw a prompt for this pairing and was like ‘omg HELLO I’m literally 40% done with mine’ and got down to writing the rest!
the sweet fruits of waiting: 7k, charles/seb, T
Charles tries to win a championship and asks a big question to Seb in the meanwhile.    
I loved loved LOVED writing this one. to this day it’s still my number one fave. honestly this is my comfort fic after crap races or days, I love the secretly married trope and just good ol’ domesticity with a spice of conflict. my fave!
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cherripeach · 3 years
Text
Chapter 14
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Little Match Maker
Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.
However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.
Chapter 1:11-12 good credit, bad credit, you dead: ghost credit
Running to the store on campus, so cute.
Warnings: Curse words, implied violence
Words: 3.1k
Relationships: developing but future twstxreader
Ace groaned while face planting on the counter, “We finally finished peeling them all!”
Deuce moaned in pain, “My arms hurt…” He, then, stretched his arms and popped some of his knuckles while rolling his neck. 
You agreed with the two boys, “Yeah, I don’t wanna move for the next decade.” You made your seat on one of the stools next to the counter to take a break after standing for what felt like hours. 
Trey chuckled at your reactions, “Great work. I’m sure that your hard work will all be worth it.” While you three were sulking, Trey began cleaning up as much as possible by putting things away and putting things in the dishwasher. 
Grim grumbled, “I’m getting hungry just by the smell, yanno.” The cat had tried to take as much of the ingredients as possible while you were preparing, but barely managed to get any.
Trey took a sheet of paper out from a binder and sorted some of the ingredients next to some cooking utensils, “The marron base uses butter and sugar. And then, I also added some oyster sauce as a secret ingredient.”
Ace and Deuce jumped up from their positions of dread in shock, “Oyster sauce?!”
Trey placed the sheet down and grabbed a bottle of the sauce,  “Exactly. The savory flavor of the chestnuts gives the cream a rich flavor. And then, to make it better, I use this,” He motioned to the sauce in his hand,  “‘Walrus-brand young oyster sauce’.  There’s no famous pâtissière who doesn’t use this for their tarts, you know?” He ended it all with a closed eyed smile. 
Deuce mumbled, “Really…? It’s a pretty salty sauce, isn’t it?”
“You know how they put chocolate in curry, too?” Ace gave an example,  “It kinda makes sense…”
You were,  on the other hand, not having it, “Naw, dude. It doesn't; sweet can't just nullify salt or reverse. It’s practically impossible.” You shook your head while the two idiots were just pouting in their confusion. 
Trey chuckled while clutching his stomach, “You're right! I was just joking! There’s no way I’d put oyster sauce in a dessert, you know? How’d you know?”
The two idiots never would have guessed that. 
Ace’s hand’s shot up in his defense, pointing at his senior, “What the heck!? Are you making fun of us!?”
“It’s obviously impossible if you think about it a little.” Trey’s lighthearted giggle switched to a more wise old lecture, “The moral lesson here is that you shouldn’t believe anything you’re told. Learn to doubt a bit, okay?”
You nodded your head, “See, Ace. I don’t gotta learn that because I knew right away.” 
You were a genius. In all eyes besides Ace’s, that is. 
Ace snorted, “I bet it was a lucky guess.”
You fought back, “Pshhhh. No way.” You knew this was just the start of one of your many squabbles. 
Grim whispered to you behind his hand, “This guy looks nice, but he’s the type who can tell lies with no problem, huh…”  
“I guess so.” Your eyes widened at Grim’s statement. 
Trey rallied you all together to begin the next step, “Next is the fresh cream!”
A shrill scream ran through the air.
Ace bounced up and questioned Trey, “What’s wrong?”
You joined Ace with your question, “Are you okay?”
“I got carried away with the chestnuts you picked that I went overboard with making the marron base.” Trey laughed at himself and rubbed the back of his head, “We’re a little short on fresh cream.”
Deuce offered, “I’ll go buy some. Do they sell it in the school store?”
Trey explained,  “That shop sells pretty much anything, so I’m sure it should be there. Can I ask you to buy some other stuff while you’re at it? Two packs of milk, two cartons of eggs, silicon cups, and five canned fruits…” He writes down the list of items and hands them to Deuce. 
Deuce reads the list before commenting, “I don’t think I can carry all of that alone…” 
This was your chance, “I’ll come! I need to see if they have uniforms there, anyway.” Maybe you could find some uniforms or even some other clothes for a nice price as if you had any money. 
Grim interjected,  “I’m going, too! I don’t wanna mix more dough!” He raised his little paw as far as his body would allow it. 
“Understandable.”  You did not need to lose your arms over baking. 
The three of you began your walk to the grocery store on campus with only some light chatter about how excited you all were to taste the finished product and how Grim shouldn’t steal it all. 
The grocery store was the size of a drug store, but apparently from what Trey said it had everything anyone at this school needed. It’s gotta be a magic store.  
“We sure this is it?” You questioned Deuce because he was sure to know more than you, right?
Deuce pointed out, “I haven’t heard of any other shops here.” 
Grim quickly agreed, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s get a move on!”
While still warry, you approached the place behind the two overexcited shoppers, both who had stars in their eyes as someone from a novel would say. 
Deuce gazed around the place with wide eyes after opening the door where a little bell rang, “Pardon us! Whoa, what an amazing shop… Crystal skulls, magical texts, and… wh-what sort of animal is this…?” Deuce motioned to an animal’s skeleton that was just laying out on one of the shelves. Grim and Deuce took two steps closer to inspect the animal while you took two steps back. 
Grim, who began to travel by himself around the store, questioned Deuce and you, “Can we really find some fresh cream here?”
“I’d be surprised if we couldn't find it.” You opened a box that was filled with dusty books while nodding to Grim. 
Out of nowhere came a voice near the counter,  “Hey! Little lost lambs, what can I help you with? Welcome to Mr. S’s Mystery Shop.” The man had one of the oddest outfits with a bright pink shirt but then a black and dark purple jacket. His fashion sense was certainly new, but his vibe was what shocked you the most. Almost like he knew too much. What is it that you wish for today? A charm against cheating?” He pulled out a slip of paper from his chest pocket, “ An ancient king’s mirror?” a small mirror from his sleeve,  “Or maybe, some cursed tarot cards?” He even pulled a box out of thin air. 
Grim was frozen in shock for a moment and joined the conversation with a breath, “Ah, you startled me!”
You added on, “He reminds me of those characters from video games and movies that are just normal store owners or vendors that have some of the oddest items.” Looking at his shop, you believed yourself for a moment. 
The three of you made your way to the little counter at the back of the store. 
Deuce took out the list from his pocket and handed it to the man, “Um… We would like to buy the things written on this note.”
Grim used his arms to pull his face onto the counter as to be seen and begged,  “And I also want some canned tuna!”
“With what money?” You waved at him in disbelief,  “And I have a question for you, Mystery man.”
Deuce pushed Grim off of the counter,  “No! We will not buy any canned tuna!” which only caused Grim to growl at Deuce. 
The male scanned the note while tapping his finger in his chin,  “Mhmm. What do we have here? Fresh cream and eggs… Oh, my! What a pretty sweet line-up” He gave Deuce a thumbs up, “OK! I shall bring them out now. And I’ll get back to you in just a minute.” The male nodded at you with a small wink at the end of his sentence. 
Totally an odd vibe.
Deuce gasped in disbelief letting go of Grim’s fur,  “Whoa… Will he really have some here?”
You voiced your thoughts, “Maybe the back is just really big?”
The man returned with five bags full of items on your list, “Here, thank you for the wait. It is rather heavy, so are you sure you can carry them all?” The male, then gestured to a sign right next to the cash register about a special bag to carry all the items, “If you act now, I can throw in a special bag to carry all of those things for 30% off of its original price!” Deuce took out the money Trey gave him and handed it to the shopkeeper. 
Grim blurted out, “What did you say? Hey, that sounds interesting!” The cat grabbed your clothes as he normally does pointing at the sign to get your attention focused on it. 
Deuce shook his head while grabbing three of the five bags, “We. We will have to decline! Let’s go, Grim!”
“But why?! I wanna play more!” A pointing Grim was not resulting in a good day for anyone, but at this rate you couldn��t spend money on any food. 
“About that question,” You brought it up to the shopkeeper. 
The off-vibe man nodded,  “Ok, what's the problem, little lost lamb?”
You asked, “Do you sell uniforms or at least know where I can find one?”
“I should have some, but they're all used ones. I’ll even cut the price because of how damaged they are.” He then told you the price which was great for uniforms but as someone who owned no cash, not the best.
You thanked the male as you picked up the last two bags while the other two began to walk out, “Thanks! I’m gonna come back once I have the money, but please save them for me.” 
“Ok! of course, little lost lamb. I’ll have them in stock just for you.” He winked at you again, and at this point and time you’re just gonna assume it’s normal for him. 
“Thank you so much!!” You responded while finally walking out of the shop. 
Once outside, Deuce began a new conversation, “That was a very amazing shop, in a way…”
Grim was still pouting at the two of you for not giving him free food, “Boo, you two are so stingy.” His arms were snuggly crossed over one another and even his ears were flattened against his head. 
Deuce swung around to ask Grim, “Who are you calling stingy?!” This, however, almost resulted with Grim getting a concussion because of how the bag of canned fruits and heavy cream knocked Grim to the ground. 
Deuce quickly apologized, “Sorry!”
You placed your bag to check on Grim by feeling on his head for any bumps or any scrapes from the bag,  “Well, no one would give a brat what they want now would they? I know you want some tuna, but money is tight right now and I can’t get you any for a while. Once I save up enough, I promise I’ll get you some.” You brushed back his hair before flicking at his forehead, “Just remember to keep that ego in check. Soon, who knows, maybe I can even buy a hairbrush and maybe even a phone.”
 Deuce coughed before fixing the bags in his hold to reach his hand out to you, “The bag with the milks is heavy, isn’t it? I’ll hold it for you. I’m experienced with carrying heavy loads.”
You shook your head, “No way, lover boy, I can handle myself just so you know. And besides that's an odd area of expertise. Any reason why?” You kept walking to distract the male from taking your bag.
Deuce flushed red before starting his explanation, “Yeah, Mother always takes me with her during timed sales. She buys a lot, so I end up helping her with the bags. I’m the only man in the family, so I’m used to helping a lot with hard labor. Ah, I’m sorry… I keep talking about myself.” His face flushed even darker. 
You rolled your eyes, “That is incredibly sweet of you, Deuce. Don’t be scared to talk to me about anything. We’re friends. You must care for your mother a lot with how you talk about her.”
Deuce stuttered, “No… That’s not true at all. I… Mother was…” Deuce flies back onto the ground after connecting with someone’s chest, “Ouch!”
All of the materials that Deuce was holding fell to the ground, but the biggest problem was that the eggs were now completely broken and leaking everywhere on the sidewalk. 
Grim gasped and fell to his knees to try and save the groceries, “Ah, the eggs!!”
“Hey, you ok?” You reached out your hand to Deuce who grabbed it so that you could pull him up onto both of his feet. 
Deuce locked eyes on the bag of now broken eggs and cursed, “Damn it!” He picked up the bag of eggs and began to check to see if any of the eggs were not broken and could be used, “All the eggs in the carton broke! The plastic bag’s now reeking with eggs…!” Deuce tossed them in the trash while Grim squirmed to grab the bag from him. 
A white haired familiar looking male scoffed at the three of you, “That hurt! Where the hell’re ya lookin’ at,” His eyes darted to each member of your little group before continuing, “Wha? You’re the guys who ruined my carbonara’s soft-boiled egg during lunch today!” 
Another familiar red haired student was right on his side, “Damn, it’s you guys again. Ya better give us a break.” 
You grabbed as many bags as you could carry that Deuce had before, and you snorted, “And I thought I already crushed your egos, but I should have known you can't break a brick for a brain.”
The white haired boy snickered at the three of you, “Well it seems the little supervisor can’t even get us in trouble so no need for fear. You can’t harm us.” 
Deuce had been standing in place for the last couple of seconds with his eyes on his feet, “…Aren’t you the ones at fault for bumping into me?” His sharp gaze met that of the duo of delinquents, “Even during lunch. The egg wasn’t really that badly harmed, but you made a huge scene out of it. Our carton of eggs is totally ruined, though.” Deuce rolled up the sleeves to his jacket. 
Grim agreed standing as tall as he could across from the two upperclassmen, “He’s totally right!”
You walked over to where Deuce and Grim had made their little fighting stance, “Let’s just leave. They’re not gonna listen and we shouldn't get into a fight with idiots.” To further get Deuce’s attention, you pulled into the shoulder of his jacket to motion toward the bags, “We can always replace them. Let’s just get what we have back.”
The white haired boy swore, “The hell? You sayin’ it’s my fault, then? And idiots? I’m much smarter than any of you. Respect your elders!”
Deuce paid no mind to you or your constant poking on his shoulder, “Yes, please pay us back for the eggs. And also, please apologize to the chickens.”
“Hah?” The red haired boy quipped at Deuce, “Makin’ a ruckus over eggs, are we?”
Deuce grunts, “Hah?” before turning to you, “Remember the promise right?”
You nodded at him. 
“Then, back up.” He lightly pushed you to make you back up, “And don’t get involved.”  You locked eyes with the male only to see his eyebrows furrowed and a large scowl on your face. And as much as you wanted to help him and get him out of this situation, there’s nothing you can do against magic users. At least not yet.
The two other students did not realize how ready Deuce was to make this physical or how personal this was. 
The whit haired boy groaned, “It didn’t hit the ground so you can still eat it. Stop makin’ a fuss over little things.” The boy slapped his friend before whispering something to him. 
The other boy snickered before adding, “Ya better be thankful they broke inside the plastic bag!” 
“Not only are they dumb, but blind too,” You mumbled to yourself which Grim could hear from his small chortle. 
Deuce still had not lost his eye contact with the other two boys, seemingly eyeing them down to wait for the perfect moment. 
Both of the boys let out the largest giggles possible that a teenage boy could without sounding like girls gossiping with their heads thrown back and their hands clutching their stomachs. 
“Laughing at something that is surely your fault.” You rolled your eyes while trying to get the boy’s attention on Deuce who was in your eyes about to murder a bitch, “I think you should just pay us back for it. Maybe some extra too for having to deal with your terrible attitude to even it out.” 
Neither student responded to you only grunting out stiffles of laughter for the next couple of seconds. 
Deuce muttered to himself breaking eye contact with the two to gaze down at his hand which was clenched like in one of those TV shows when a character is going to do something he regrets, “... Mess with me, will you…”
White haired kid raises his eyebrows in confusion as Deuce looks to be slowly going insane,  “Huh?”
Deuce exploded at the two, “I told you to stop laughing, damn it!!” His feet began to move closer and closer to the two who just stood in horror for the boy who was once silent, “You ain’t got no choice but to apologize for something that’s your fault! These eggs will be used to make a delicious tart in place of turning into chicks, bastard!! Do you understand me, huh!?”
“Wh-what’s with him all of a sudden…?!” The red haired boy was backing away from the approaching student and had a look of disbelief on his face. 
Deuce grabbed his fist in one hand and cracked the knuckles of the other one, “If you’re not gonna pay me back for the 6 eggs, I got no choice but to beat the hell out of you six times.”
The white haired male faltered, “Huh!?” before seeing the blue haired male coming straight for him with his fists in a fighting position. 
 “Grit your teeth, you little bastards!!” And with that Deuce began his little fight by pulling at the kid’s clothes and punching them a little too hard.
“Where does that phrase even come from?” But what could you do besides stand there and wait even if you didn’t want the two to get hurt going into the fight now would be harmful.
You really need to stop getting involved in fights. 
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crackedpumpkin · 1 year
Note
“Chicken and croffles” I had flashbacks at that man. There’s this person I watch and they were telling their story of trying to rizz someone through food, and by rizz I mean they tried to impress an attractive waiter, but fumbled a bit and ordered chicken and waffles. He got so nervous they ordered the first thing he saw, which was chicken and waffles. How attractive was this waiter? So attractive that his friends literally had to warn them and also tried to clean him up a bit to look more presentable LMAO
Really liked this chapter!!! Love the sceneries and how Miles and “Ray Paynt” interacted!!!! Something about how you write feels real, like even in the little things with Miles’ “It’s a choice.” And when dragging him along to the cafe at an unexpected notice. Stop writing food so deliciously it’s nearly 8am for me and I’m wanting some nice fruit-ade or something!!! 😭/pos
From one Michael to another, MICHAEL STAHP WITH THE TOUCHING YOU’RE GONNA GET YOUR WILLYIAM CHOPPED OFF FR
omfg i felt that fr im not even kidding. what i would give to be on the receiving end of that starstruckness.... okay in all honesty I'd probably be that very dude dropping my utensils.
WAIT OKAY STORY TIME BECAUSE IVE GOT ONE OF MY OWN:
So i recently went to korea in june and i went with 2 other friends who went to queue up at the NIKE store in the morning for their customization stuff right? So I wake up later and i go grab a coffee first at this store my friend recommended because it's cheap + rly good.
As such, I casually stroll along the street with my earbuds in bc im cool and swag and feeling myself right? I finally find this coffee shop and step up to the counter to order, except what do i see?
A GORGEOUS, STUNNING GIRL MANNING THE CASHIER.
At this point i am in full blown panic. I have never met anyone so pretty in my life. Her hair was silky smooth and dyed a light platinum-ish shade, and her makeup was flawless. her skin? dewy like a morning glory in bloom. Her entire figure and being? goddesslike.
at this point i am sweating buckets just from the thought of talking to her. but it's fine, right? its just a cup of coffee. i can do this.
i then proceed to ABSOLUTELY FUMBLE MY WORDS.
I just wanted this pretty drink called a franobe guys. thats all i wanted. but i got so shy and she couldnt hear me saying franobe so she kept going 'ah, latte?' and guys. i almost died on the spot.
I repeated it like 2x before she got what i was trying to say. Quick PSA that i am not fluent in korean at all, and understand more than i can speak. she asks me something in korean and i just go 'ne?' with wideass eyes like id just seen my newborn child or some shit.
anyway i finally manage to pay and get my drink and i walk away with my head practically in my hands. up till this day i am paranoid she thinks im an idiot. this is my chicken and croffles story for all you guys out there.
also im straight but this is one of the rare exceptions i lost my composure fr. what can i say? im w e ak.
im really glad you liked this chapter !! if it's one trait i could've given my characters or reader oc its the endless funds to go cafe hopping. cafe hopping is so, so fun, but so, so expensive like goddamn let me live my main character life in peace fr....
it's euphoric to hear that you liked the little moments !! i enjoyed thinking through those and just going like ah yes, he would say this! i really love writing or thinking about the small moments that lead up to the big picture. (also @buthowboutno-spamming gave me such great advice regarding this, and i wouldnt have been able to flesh out my fic and vision if not for his advice)
michael deserves to get his dick chopped off fr. but it's okay!! I plan for all my characters to go through developmental arcs lmfao, ive gotten too attached to the two idiots to let go of their potential now :)
Go get some fruit-ade or make some yourself bro it's super easy super good. lmk if you want a recipe and im more than happy to provide~
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blingywitch · 4 years
Text
The First Step - Chapter IV
Omg hi! I am so sorry this took so long to get out. It took me a lot longer than expected to write but anyways, it’s here now!
This chapter is a lot longer than the others I’ve written in this mini series. I had a lot that I wanted to include and didn’t realize how much it was until I re-read this so I hope you like this huge chapter of pure fluff. :)
Finally, this is the last chapter of this story. I had so much fun writing it and it makes me very happy to see that you guys enjoyed it as much as you did. (I may write a mini Sequel with one or two parts. Maybe write the wedding I don’t know yet.) but moving on, as I’ve said before, thank you for all the love, and enjoy. <3
The First Step Masterlist & Full Masterlist
Characters and universe belong to, @lumosinlove
CW: mentions of food.
The team had finished practice and were now skating off the ice, tired, sweaty and ready to cool down in the gym and head to the showers. Well, maybe just the Cubs planned on doing that. The rest of the team however, unbeknownst to them, had other things in mind.
Walking into the locker room Finn, Logan and Leo were all grabbed by the shoulders and sat down in whoever’s stall was closest.
“Alright boys, sit the fuck down and tells us how this happened. Details. Go.” James prodded.
“You just sat us down” Logan deadpanned, smirk playing at his lips.
Finn huffed, though he was smiling—still. “Can we at least get out of our gear first? Get a shower-“
“No!” The entire team shouted back.
Finn put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay we’ll tell you.” He then looked to Logan. “Lo?”
Logan stood up and walked over to join Leo; who had been sat down at the other side of the room— in, from what Logan could see, looked like kuny’s stall— sitting down next to him and intertwining their fingers. Finn wasn’t long joining the two and then Logan took a deep breath, “It wasn’t anything special-“
He was cut off by Leo smacking his arm. Logan rolled his eyes playfully and continued, “Fine. It wasn’t anything big and fancy.”
One week earlier
The sun was streaming trough the blinds of their bedroom window when Logan woke up, sandwiched between his boys. Opening his eyes, squinting slightly from both sleep and the brightness of the room, he looked at Leo and Finn. In the morning sun he could see every little detail of them— every little detail that he loved. Hundreds of freckles adorned Finn’s face, fanning over his cheekbones and nose going all the way down to his shoulders; resembling the thousands of stars in the sky. Careful not to wake him Logan turned over to get a better look at Leo, who had his arm loosely around his waist. He noticed that, in the sun, the younger boy’s hair looked more like the sun than the sun itself. The blonde and white strands glistening and glowing in the light. Logan had to hold himself back from running his fingers through it. He loved these boys so so much and today was the day they would learn just how much.
Today was the day.
Logan peeked over Leo’s shoulder to look at the clock on the nightstand, it read ‘6:15 am’. That was good. Leo and Finn wouldn’t be up for at least another three hours, four if he was lucky— it was Saturday after all and they had nothing they needed to do today. Logan had gotten unbelievably lucky by coach giving them the day off.— he had time.
Sighing to himself he removed Leo’s arm, carefully climbed over Finn and got out off bed. He padded around the house for a little, toothbrush in one hand phone in the other, sending texts and making preparations for the day. After he was finally dressed and ready to go he gave his boys one last kiss on the cheek and he was gone.
“Thank you, Celeste, for doing this on such short notice,” Logan said as he sat down at the Dumais’ kitchen island.
“De rien, Logan. You know I don’t mind. But are you going to tell me why I had to cook all this food last night?”
“Well... I can... but you can’t tell anyone, not even Dumo.”
Celeste furrowed her eyebrows but motioned for him to continue.
“...I’m proposing today.” Logan said, his voice barely above a whisper. The rest of the Dumais’ were still asleep but he couldn’t risk anything.
Though his efforts were probably in vain because Celeste let out a very loud gasp at that, quickly covering her mouth and looking towards the stairs, listening for any sign someone had woken up. After the house stayed quiet she looked back at Logan.
“Logan... that’s amazing.” Celeste walked over to Logan and placed a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m so happy to hear that.”
Hearing those words come out of his mouth, Logan couldn’t describe how it made him feel. But he decided on happy for the time being. He was proposing today. “Moi aussi....”
Celeste stepped back and Logan met her eyes, “My lips are sealed.” She said, he just smiled at her.
“Now. You should get going, I don’t know when those boys of yours will be up but I know mine will be soon, so” Celeste pushed the dishes of food towards Logan and poked him in the arm. “Go. Get.”
Logan chuckled. “d'accord, d'accord I’m going.”
On second thought maybe Logan had gotten up to early.
He’d wanted to make sure he had enough time to do everything it was he needed get done. And he had gotten everything done, which was good. But it was still only 8:30 am, and Logan was just standing in his kitchen unsure of what to do next. He could wake them up... but he didn’t wanna do that, it was their day off. But at the same time, being here alone and just waiting for them to wake up was driving him crazy.
So Logan decided he wouldn’t wait alone. Taking one last look at the array of food before him, he set off for the bedroom.
Finn and Leo were exactly where they were when Logan left a few hours before, except now Finn was rolled over onto his back and had his arm thrown over his face, Leo laying a bit closer to him than before.
He smiled at how cute they looked and tiptoed over to the bed, dropping himself down beside Leo and waited. Letting his mind run wild with what was about to happen.
Leo woke up about an hour later, after rubbing his eyes and stretching he felt a hand on his back and a kiss to his shoulder. Leo smiled softly and turned over. “Hmm, morning.” He said, nuzzling into Logan’s chest.
“Bon matin, mon amour.” Logan greeted him, just as Finn started to stir. He groaned and his eyes meet Logan’s as they opened.
“I’m the sleepyhead s’morning I see.” He said, upon seeing his boyfriends next to him already awake.
Logan huffed out a laugh. “Morning to you too, Harz.”
Finn just smiled and got up on an elbow, leaning over Leo he gave Logan a quick kiss on the lips. “Morning.” He said, pulling away.
He then moved from Logan to Leo, bending down and kissing his jaw, the only part of the boy’s face that was exposed. “Morning Peanut.”
“Hmm.” Was the only response he got.
Finn laughed into Leo’s neck. “You awake yet?”
“Mm’no” Leo replied, word muffled my Logan’s chest.
“Well you can go back to sleep for a little bit, okay?”
“M’kay” Leo mumbled, Finn did not have to tell him twice.
They stayed quiet for another few minutes, enjoying each other’s company before Finn asked, “So what’s on the schedule for today?”
“Nothing.” Leo, who had finally decided to wake up said, rolling onto his back. “I’m staying here. All day.”
“Well as much as I’d love to do that mon chéri, I have something planned.” Logan chimed in.
“And what would that be?” Finn challenged, raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll see.” Logan smirked. “C’mon.” He said, standing up and grabbing one of their hands each.
“Ugh fine.” Leo groaned though he was now curious as to what Logan had in store for them.
“So moody in the morning, Peanut.” Finn said teasingly.
“Oh hush you.” Leo playfully smacked his arm.
That only made Finn smile.
“C’mon,” Logan singsonged, pulling them forward. “you’re so slow.”
Despite all his previous nerves about this day, now that it was here Logan was surprised to find out that those feelings had miraculously disappeared and he felt completely fine. The only emotion flowing through him being pure euphoria. He was everything but nervous and he thanked whatever was responsible for that.
Finn and Leo were finally up and smiling brightly, Logan immediately stared dragging them out of the bedroom, walking backwards so he could catch their reactions.
They had just reached the living room when Leo and Finn froze. From here they could see the arrangement of food that sat in the kitchen. There were trays of cinnamon rolls, fruits and berries and well, anything you could thing of. Logan might have gone overboard, but he really didn’t care at the moment.
“Oh.” Leo broke the silence, staring over Logan’s shoulder.
“What’s the occasion?” Finn asked.
“No occasion.” Logan replied. “I just love you.”
Logan dropped their hands and walked the rest of the way to the kitchen. “Hello? Are you just going to stand there all day or do you want some breakfast?”
The two other boys were moving again and in no time had two plates of food in front of them.
“So, Lo” Leo started, after three had been eating in silence for a while. “Where did all this food come from? Because you certainly didn’t cook it.”
Logan let out a mock gasp at that. “How dare you underestimate my cooking skills!”
“What!? Am I lying?”
“No.” Finn said around a mouthful of eggs.
Logan flicked a blueberry at him.
“Hey!”
Next to them, Leo laughed, “Alright, alright don’t waste the food.”
Finn jerked his head at Leo, “The chef in that one is coming out.” He said to Logan, who laughed.
Finn got another blueberry flicked at him, this time by Leo.
Logan had to get the rings.
After the three had eaten breakfast they had all made their way to the couch and were now tangled around each other, relaxing and watching a movie. It was the perfect moment. But of course, Logan didn’t have the rings on him. They were at the end of the hallway, stashed in the back of a closet. The only place Logan could think of where they wouldn’t be found accidentally. He had to get them.
“Finn?” Logan tried to get Finns attention.
Finn hummed showing he was listening, though his eyes were fixed on the tv.
“Can you let me up for a second?” Logan asked. Like always, he was squished between the two of them.
“Mhmm.” Finn replied and stood up to let Logan go.
“Wait!” Leo said Suddenly, arms outstretched. “where are you going? Come back.”
“I’ll be back Knutty, don’t worry.” Logan laughed, walking away. “I’m just getting blankets.”
And in no time Logan was back, with a blanket in one hand and two rings in his back pocket.
“You’re the best.” Finn said as Logan handed him the blanket.
Leo sat up, taking the blanket from Finn and putting his feet in his lap. He motioned for Logan to sit next to him and then put the blanket over them.
“Je t’aime.” Logan whispered pecking Leo on the lips, he reached out and grabbed Finn’s hand. “You too, Fish.”
‘Here goes nothing’ Logan thought. He picked up the remote and turned the tv off.
“Lo, what are you doing?” Confusion laced Finn’s voice
“Do you know how much I love you?Both of you?” Logan was now gripping both of their hands like his life depended on it. The next thing that came out of his mouth even surprised him, “épouse-moi?”
Leo froze.
“W- what?” Finn asked, heart rate picking up.
Logan reached into his back pocket; when his hand reappeared he was holding three identical sliver bands in his palm. “Marry me?” He said again, firmer this time.
When no one said anything Logan continued, “I could get started on all that, ‘oh we’re to young and I don’t know if we’re ready’ shit, but I won’t. If you’re ready I’m ready. And if you’re not, then I’ll be here when you are; Because I love you both so much and I’d wait eternity for you. So... marry me?”
Logan looked back and forth between the two. Leo was first to break the silence, “Yes.” He breathed and Logan finally let his smile show.
He turned to Finn who was still staring at the rings in his hand. “Fish?”
Finn finally tore his eyes away from the rings and when he looked up Logan noticed a tear making it’s way down his face. Logan smiled softly at him.
“Yes. Oh my god, yes!” He beamed and tackled Logan in a hug, only breaking away to pull Leo in as well.
They fell into the couch again, in a puddle of happy tears, kisses and whispered I love you’s. Fully ready to start the next chapter of their lives, being with each other every step of the way.
As Logan placed the rings on their fingers the last thing Finn said before he was tacked by two boys and a bunch of pillows was, “Fuck, I love my life.”
Present day
Logan finished his story and looked around at his teammates, Dumo spoke up first. “Wait. Celeste knew and I didn’t!? Why didn’t you tell me!?”
“Because I wanted it to be a surp- hmff” Logan was hit Square in the stomach by a hockey glove— thrown by Dumo of course.
“Rude.” Logan mumbled.
Leo looked to his left, hoping to find Finn. Instead, something else caught his eye and he burst out laughing, “Potts are you crying?” He asked.
“No!”
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soyouthinkucanwrite · 3 years
Text
Trip to the store with Tom and Harry
*This is actually part of a chapter of something I've been writing for myself, just for fun. Basically, the reader is staying with them for the weekend, things are still pretty recent with Tom, she's famous too, whatever, whatever... there are 15 chapters tho (48k + words)! This blurp doesn't contain smut, but the others do, so let me know if you like this, and I might post the full series.
Minor warning: people taking unsolicited pictures, panic attack foreshadowing. Also, this is in a world pre-pandemic (the series happens in June 2019) that's why no maks. But you live in 2021, so please wear yours!
Overall, just pure fluffiness and brother's bickering. Enjoy and please, please give me your feedback!
This is 2k+ words, btw
*edit! I did it you guys, here's chapter 1 of the whole series
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“Just leave it, baby” Tom calls out when I get up from the breakfast table taking the dishes to the sink to wash them.
“It’s fine, just a couple plates” I say already washing them. “You wanna go to the store now or later?”
“Let’s go now” Tom says.
“I call shotgun!” Harry announces.
“Absolutely not! I’m driving and(y/n)'s my-” I keep my ear open for the end of that sentence, which apparently won’t be coming out because Harry starts to laugh and I can tell Tom wants to kill him for that. I just shake my head and keep washing the plates, pretending I didn’t hear anything.
We go back to his room to brush our teeth before heading out and I consider changing my clothes, but decide this is fine (out of laziness). Tom changes into a pair of joggers and shirt, he looks like he’s going to work out, but handsome as always. I wonder if he’s going to wear the cap and sunglasses that he keeps on his car for quick disguise. He grabs his wallet and the car keys and we’re heading out when I remember my wallet.
“Hold on, forgot my wallet” I say going back the hallway.
“What you need your wallet for?” He asks when I get back, he was waiting for me at the end of the corridor. We go down the stairs, Harry is already there waiting, flipping through his phone.
“You see, a wallet is where you keep your money and these plastic card thingies, which are like money, but virtual. Money is something you need to give the people at the store-”
“Alright smart ass, I get it. You won’t need to buy anything, it’s what I’m saying”
“Please don’t get him started” Harry pleads with me when we get outside the door.
“What?” I laugh. Tom unlocks the car and I go straight to the backseat, trying to avoid another awkward sitting discussion.
“Tom insists he pays for everything around the house. Part of the reason why we go grocery shopping without him” Harry says from the front seat. “He’s pretty good at making money, got admit. But terrible at managing it, the lads don’t even pay rent!”
“Would you like to pay rent?” Tom asks, reversing the car and taking a glance at me, winking.
“I’m your brother! Dealing with you IS my rent” I laugh the whole way to the store at their banter about money, the radio, the car temperature. I catch glances at Tom through the rear mirror, smiling every time he sees me watching him.
“Why are we here? I though it was only food” Harry asks with an annoyed voice when Tom turned to get in a parking lot.
“We’re getting other stuff too” Tom explains, parking and getting out of the car, taking my hand. He didn’t get his cap and sunglasses. We left the car at a parking lot and walked to a discreet door that read ‘collect by car’, was this some kind of celebrity special entrance? We take an elevator and when it opens it’s like a mall, or a department store. A fancy Target, I’d say. ‘Marks & Spencer’. Uh…very British. Harry takes a cart and Tom gets another. I follow Tom but notice that Harry goes solo on his shopping trip. Tom’s still holding my hand and I look around to see if anyone’s watching but apparently not. “Let’s look at the blown dryers first, huh?” He says and I nod, following his lead.
When we get to the beauty tools section (is that what they call it?) Tom reaches for the fancy, expensive blow dryer models and I reach for the travel-sized ones. I look at him smiling. “You were thinking about getting a blown dryer for the house, weren’t you?”
“Weren’t you?”
“Tom, you’re seriously buying a blown dryer just because I asked to borrow one?” I laugh at him.
“I could use one too, you know? It’s not just for when you come around” He says in a tone that gives away he was thinking exactly the opposite.
“Okay then. Not that brand, though. This one” I put back the travel size and step closer to him to look at the models, reading the boxes and considering the options. When we settle for one he puts it on the cart and we keep walking through the store, reaching the products section. “Shampoo” I indicate, walking towards the shelf with all the options.
“Hi, can I help you guys?” A store attendant asks approaching us.
“Hi” I say smiling at her. “Just looking for some shampoo and conditioner”
“Something specific?”
“Not rubbish” Tom jokes. And she looks confused.
“He uses Head & Shoulders and is offended I called it rubbish” I explain to her laughing.
“Oh…that’s not good” She grimaces and Tom shakes his head.
“I know! Thank you! It doesn’t have to be anything fancy…I don’t know any of these brands though…” Me and the attendant start talking about shampoo and Tom zones out, looking around. When I finally pick one, along with conditioner, hair mask and styling gel I put it all in the cart and thank her. Tom was looking at a shelf with bath products, bath salts and bombs.
“Hi” I step to his side.
“Bath bomb? Doesn’t sound very relaxing” I laugh at that. Boys. When I was going to explain it to him two girls approach us.
“Hi, Tom!” One of them says, blushing furiously.
“Uh…hi!” He answers, slightly startled. “How’s it going?” He recovers his composure.
“Fine…Uh, is it ok if we ask you for a selfie?”
“Sure, no problem” He smiles. They look in between him and I.
“Could you take one, (y/n)?” Does she mean with me, or she want’s me to take the picture?
“Sure, give me your phone” I say reaching for her phone. And they laugh nervously.
“We meant with us”
“Oh, yeah” I laugh. “Course” Tom is watching and laughing at me. “But do you want me to take one of you guys with him too? So you don’t have only selfies”
“Oh would you? Thank you!” They say giving me their phones and posing along him. He keeps staring at you the whole time. I snap multiple pics with both phones and give them back to them.
“See what you think” I gave their phones back.
“Oh it’s great! Thank you”
“You didn’t even look at it. What if she’s a shitty photographer?” Tom laughs.
“Excuse me? I’m a great photographer” I answered him. “I bet the one’s you take won’t look so great” I said posing with the girls, who were just staring at the two of us in awe. I smiled while Tom snapped the pics and then he gave their phones back.
“Thank you!” One of them smiled.
“Yeah thank you!” They were walking away when one of them looked back and shouted. “You guys are really cute together!” And they sprinted away laughing.
“Teenagers” Tom says shaking his head and laughing.
“Don’t know, we ARE really cute together” You tease him, poking his side.
“I know, wasn’t disagreeing” He says defensively. “You can’t make every fan encounter this long though, or else you’re never gonna get anything done”
“Okay grandpa” You laugh. “Common, it didn’t even take that long”
“Not this time. Probably made their day, though” He says. “Just don’t get frustrated if every fan isn’t this nice”
“I don’t expect them to be. It’s just, they liked whatever we do and it’s part of their lives. Doesn’t cost anything to be nice, and besides, it’s a positive reinforcement. Next time they need courage to do something, it’ll be easier for them. People make too much fuss about celebrities, but like, asking a date out is way scarier and more common” Tom just smiled and shakes his head. “What?”
“I really love your mind, you know?”
“What did I said?”
“The positive reinforcement thing. I though you were going to say we’re leaving a good impression” You scoff.
“Bath bombs” I say trying to change the subject. “It’s like aspirin, for your bath. They’re really nice, wanna pick some?” He nods picking one up and trying to smell them. You guys joke around and pick some bath bombs as well as some bubbles and shower gel. “We got so much stuff” I say looking at the cart.
“Only essentials” He says and kiss me on the cheek. “I like this, get used to it”
“What?”
“Spoiling you. I’m like a sugar daddy”
“Oh my god, you didn’t just say that” I laugh. “That makes me a toiletries sugar baby” He laughs and pushes the cart along the corridor. We find Harry on the beverages section, picking up some beer boxes.
“So much for groceries” Tom says looking at his cart. Chips, candy, beer and milk. We get a few more items like some fruits and vegetables, yogurt, eggs and of course a bunch of ready meals, which seem to be a must for them.
“You guys don’t cook much, do you?” I joke.
“Only when Sam’s around. Which then he cook’s for us, of course” Harry answers and I laugh.
“Is he at school?” I ask.
“Cooking school. In Paris” Harry tells me, putting the groceries on the cashier belt.
“That’s so cool” I look at Tom. “That’s really cool”
“I know. Wait, are you really more impressed by my younger-chef-brother than my acting career?” He laughs.
“I mean…” I shrug and Harry laughs at us. We see a flash and turn our heads at the same time to the woman on the line behind us, who had her phone pointed to us. I look down and Tom puts his arm around me. “She’s taking pics” I whisper to him getting out of his embrace.
“So?” He says and puts his hand on my back, standing with his back to her in front of me. Harry hurries up and finishes putting the groceries on the belt, bagging everything up. I go to help him while Tom pays for our shopping. We put the stuff back on a cart and get out of the store. When we get out of the elevator and in the parking lot again, I hear Tom saying to Harry ‘Ride on the back now, yeah?’. We put everything on the trunk and Harry gets on the backseat, so I get on the passenger seat. Tom starts to drive and takes my hand laying on my thigh, he rubs his thumb over the back of my hand and I’m glad he’s being mindful because these encounters with paparazzi and random people taking pics really stress me out.
“I don’t really mind taking photos” I say out of the blue. “When they introduce themselves and ask for it”
“It’s so disrespectful, pisses me off” Harry agrees. “Like, you want a photo? Fine, just ask for it. You don’t simply snap photos of random people on the street, what makes you think you have the right to do it if you saw the person on a movie before?”
“We only saw that because the flash was on too. Makes me think of all the times I never see it. Like you’re always being watched. It’s…” Scary? Stressful? An invasion of privacy? All of the above?
“I’m sorry” Tom says, tightening his grip on my hand.
“It’s not your fault” I say.
“I’m still sorry” I give him a half smile. Nothing we can do about it, is there?
“Nice record Tom, where did you get it?” Harry asked lifting the Lime Cordiale record I bought Tom at Camden.
“That’s (y/n)'s” He says.
“I bought it for you” I smile.
“What? Did you?” I bit my lip smiling and nod. “I’m an idiot, sorry”
“That you are. An ungrateful idiot apparently” Harry says.
“It’s ok” I give Harry a glare. “It’s ok, really” I repeat looking over at Tom. “As long as you listen to them now”
“I will, promise” He smiles and lifts my hand to kiss it. Harry makes a gaging sound and I just laugh.
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awanderingdeal · 3 years
Text
Never too late - 6 - 7
A continuation of Leo and Regulus’ attempts (antics) to give Regulus the childhood he never had.
CW: Food talk
Please message me if you feel I need to add any content warnings
Rating: T
Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist
Credit for the sweater universe and the characters within it go to @lumosinlove. What a hero.
[This is currently unedited, and I'm not that happy with it, but also my writing mojo has decided it is vacay time so it is what is it]
6. Go to camp! You’ll make friends for life.
“Le! Did you order something?” Finn called, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen carrying a large box.
“Yeah, it’s the t-shirts,” Leo nodded, scraping the onions he’d just chopped into the pot. “Put it on the island for me please, babe.”
Finn looked down at the box, making a show of testing its weight before he looked back at Leo with wide eyes, “This seems like...a lot.”
After adjusting the temperature on the stovetop slightly, Leo washed his hands and made to inspect the delivery. “Err, yeah. Potts got wind of the plan and got all excited. Half the team are coming now,” he smiled sheepishly.
“Of course that happened,” Finn threw his head back with a laugh. “You might as well make it a thing.”
“A thing?” Leo repeated, throwing Finn a bemused look.
“Uhh huh,” Finn nodded.
“I’m gonna need more, babe,” Leo said, lifting one of the shirts out of the box and running the material through his fingers, humming a note of approval.
“More shirts? There’s like 50 here,” Finn frowned.
“No, love,” Leo laughed, shaking his head “More on what a ‘thing’ is.”
“Ohh, got you,” Finn chuckled, leaning against the counter. “I just meant, if half the team is coming anyway, you might as well invite the other half. Get the kids involved. You know, a thing.”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Leo cocked his head.
“Well, I did go to Harvard,” Finn shrugged, rooting around in the fruit bowl to find a suitable pear. One that wasn't too big because Finn got bored of flavours quickly and could never finish them. One that wasn't too soft, because he hated the sticky mess on his hands. In the early days of their relationship, Leo had been excited for the adventures that were going to come with his boyfriends, but he hadn't been prepared for how much the little nuggets of information he would discover about them would mean to him. The satisfied smile that appeared on his Finn’s face as he procured the perfect one was infectious.
“Such big brain energy and yet he still can’t load a dishwasher,” Leo retorted, motioning to the stack of crockery that had been abandoned on the counter.
***
“I have no idea why I put up with you,” Regulus scowled, covering his eyes with his hands. “Okay, I promise I can’t see.”
“Because I’m your best friend, obviously,” Leo replied, making a stupid face to ensure that Regulus was, in fact, telling the truth, and began to lead him towards the back door.
“Obviously,” Regulus drawled. “Do I get a choice in this best friend business?”
“Well, you can try and resist it if you want, but I am incredibly loveable and inevitably you will have to succumb to my charm so you might as well just deal with it,” Leo said.
Regulus gave a resigned sigh, “I suppose as best friends go you aren’t too bad.”
Leo laughed, punching Regulus lightly in the shoulder before telling him to watch out for the step up into the back yard.
“I hope you know that if I break my neck, you will be paying for -” Regulus started.
“Wegggie!!” Harry shouted through a mouthful of graham crackers that James had been trying to buy his silence with.
“Is that?” Regulus pulled his hands from his face, his eyes going wide at the scene in front of him. Leo had to admit he may have gone a little overboard with the execution of the summer camp. What had started off as a few classic summer camp activities had turned into a carefully planned extravaganza. There was a climbing wall and he’d hired an events team that taught archery. Between the games of dodgeball and capture the flag, there would be time for tye-dying, friendship bracelet making, water balloons, tug of war and much more. Of course he hadn’t skimped on the food either: burgers, pizza, vegetable sticks, taco salad and hot dogs; there was a long buffet table laden with an endless supply.
Regulus pulled Leo back inside, tugging him further into the kitchen so that the crowd of Lion’s players and their families couldn’t see them. “Leo, this is too much.”
Leo looked at Regulus trying to read his friend, but the other boy was infuriatingly closed off. “Look, if you really don’t want this, I’ll go and tell everybody to enjoy themselves and we can get out of here.”
Regulus huffed out a breath, “It’s not that I don’t want to...it’s...it’s weird everybody being here. They are obviously just here because you asked them and I feel like an add on.”
“Okay, let me stop you right there,” Leo held up a hand. “You practically live at Kris’ house the amount of time you spend there with Avie. Celeste loves you like a seventh? eighth? child...honestly, I’ve lost track of how many children they’ve adopted at this point. You and Olli…”
“Alright, alright,” Regulus interrupted, “I get your point.” He cocked his head slightly, “Huh, I guess I didn’t realise how much I’ve settled here.”
“You need a second to process that or are you ready to go have some fun, because I think Harry might eat all the s’more supplies if we wait much longer.”
***
Leo leaned into Logan’s shoulder, smiling as he watched his boyfriend show Katie how to toast her s’more in the bonfire that crackled in front of them. He was admiring the softness of the French leaving Logan’s mouth, when Regulus plopped himself onto the large log they were sitting on, a sleeping Aveline clinging to him.
“Hey, Reggie,” Leo greeted, turning his soft smile to his friend. “You alright?”
“I’m good. I just wanted to say thank you,” Regulus nodded, shifting Aveline into a more comfortable position. Leo noticed that Regulus had added another 3 new friendship bracelets to his haul since he had last got a moment to catch up with him. “For all this. This day has been amazing. All of it. I’m not sure if summer camp would have been my thing really, but I never really got to do fun family garden parties either and this has been incredible. ”
Any reply that Leo was about to make was disturbed, by Aleandra dumping a water balloon over Marc’s head right in front of them, their loud screams causing Aveline to wake with a cry.
7.Decorate your room! Paint the walls, buy new bedding and pick some new accessories! Make it your space.
"Well," Leo set a pile of magazines on the bed with a soft thud. It was a little old-school, but he was adamant that it was easier to come up with a complete picture this way. "What do you like? You don't have to know exactly, but we can't go to Ikea without any idea." He let out a soft snort at the unintentional rhyme.
Regulus looked up at him, wide eyed, as if he'd just asked him to supply the solution for world peace. "I don't know," he shrugged, toying with the sleeve of his shirt.
"You must have some thoughts."
"I don't know," Regulus snapped. "I've never had to make these decisions before. There was no point liking anything, because our parents would do what they wanted either way." He spat the words, and despite how it made Leo feel he knew the anger was a sign of some sort of progress. Not even a few months ago, his friend had spoken about his childhood like it was just a different form of normal.
"I'm sorry," Leo apologised, climbing onto the bed next to Regulus.
"It's not your fault, is it," Regulus shrugged, tucking his knees to his chest.
"I shouldn't have pushed you for an answer," Leo clarified, moving the magazines out the way and dragging his laptop from the bedside table. “Look, how about we go through Pinterest and you can pick some pins you vibe with. I’m sure we’ll find a trend.”
“Yeah,” Regulus breathed, shuffling closer to Leo. “Yeah, okay.”
***
“What the hell, there’s more,” Regulus said in awe as they rounded another corner to be confronted by rows of rattan baskets.
“I think we’re nearly at the end.” Leo looked up from the map he was trying to follow, almost stumbling over the cart when Regulus came to a sudden halt.
“These are nice,” Regulus mused, picking up a walnut coloured weaved basket. “My towels will look nice in these.”
“I’m sure they would,” Leo chuckled. He shouldn’t have been so surprised by how quickly Regulus had gained an affinity for interior design considering how he had taken to honing his clothing style with such ease.
“Oh! But these are nice too.” Regulus turned to show Leo another basket, that was identical in every way except for being perhaps a shade lighter.
Leo groaned. They had been in the store for over 3 hours and the cart was overflowing. His friend was adamant he was going to pay his own way and considering the short amount of time he had played for Slytherin along with the legal fees to end his contract early, the man was having to learn to budget to be able to afford college. Leo had suggested that doing a couple of interviews would leave him with a fair buffer, but Regulus had wanted to put as much space between hockey and his new life as possible. Leo was supportive, but Regulus seemed to be having trouble getting out the habit of buying everything he wanted.
“Right, pick one and then close your eyes. We need to get out of here.”
***
“Up a little on the left,” Leo instructed, shaking his head as Regulus lifted the left side of the photo frame considerably. “No, not that much.”
“That’ll do.”
“It’s not straight!”
“Neither are you and you don’t see us complaining,” Regulus huffed as he adjusted the frame again.
“You’re just jealous,” Leo threw one of Regulus’ new cushions across the room, hitting him squarely in the back of the head.
“Eww,” Regulus deadpanned. “And please do not throw my things,” he glared, hugging the cushion to his chest.
Leo was about to make a comment back, but he was interrupted by Sirius clearing his throat in the doorway.
“Got you a present,” Sirius said, holding out a large bag.
“Sirius.” Regulus crossed his arms over his chest, his face set into a disapproving stare. “I told you -”
“Think of it as an early birthday present,” Sirius interrupted.
“My birthday is not for another 4 months.”
“Just take it. I promise I’ll let you do this the way you want, but you’ve got to let me buy you things every now and then too. That’s what big brothers do.”
Regulus sighed, crossing the room to take the bag from Sirius. “Thanks,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth lifting despite his best efforts. The smile spread further as he laid the mustard coloured herringbone throw he’d been salivating over in the small boutique they’d visited a few days prior.
“You’re welcome,” Sirius nodded. “Looks good in here, by the way. We’ll have to find you an apartment in New York that will be big enough to fit it all in.” he commented, walking away as he finished his sentence.
“I’m paying for the apartment!” Regulus called after him. Leo barked a laugh as Regulus ranted about stubborn humans on NHL wages. Regulus poked a finger at him. “You can be quiet. I know this was your doing.”
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