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#god i need to start doing my own holiday shopping. this is hell
mildmayfoxe · 2 years
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oooooh new stuff! ooooooohhhhh a sale!!
⭐️ oooooooooohhhhhhhhhh my god ⭐️
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mariikado · 3 months
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Good Omens 2 and mistaken identity. Part 2.
And don't show this to Neil! And don't ask him about it!
Carefully! There may be spoilers here.
Part 1.
If you've mastered the first part, here's the second.
Aziraphale returns from Edinburgh, and the same Crowley who caused the downpour carries his wilted flowers out of the bookshop. I still dare to suggest that Crowley here is actually Furfur. I also have questions for Aziraphale himself. The history of 1941 set the heroes in their own way, and this is how they look today. So who exactly is holding a meeting where everyone is acting a little strange?
Before the ball, in Nina's coffee shop, you can hear Queen "I'm Going Slightly Mad", and Nina herself notices that she is going crazy. And judging by the photo, the script for this series was written by Jane Austen.
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I have already ventured to suggest that Shax is Jane Austen. But I also dared to guess that Shax is Gabriel. What kind of meeting is this and what is really going on there?
We will find out this in season 3, now we can only guess. Either way, Jim looks divine, as divine as can be. Could this be a messianic holiday? War between heaven and hell? Maybe Shax's arrival is an attempt to return the bookstore to its real owner? I have many options, this is “The Ball”.
And before the ball there was also an interesting dialogue.
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This is a game with the meaning of a word. If this Crowley is actually Furfur, Furfur could also be Azazel, then who is Gabriel/Jim?
Crowley is in love with him and at the same time afraid of his punishment. Could this be a clue for us? If he is afraid of punishment, then Gabriel/Jim is Raphael who punished Azazel. But when it comes to falling in love, it's a question. It all depends on who conquered Furfur: Crowley or Aziraphale? And this could be another case of mistaken identity. We don't know what Jim really looks like, and we don't know what kind of soul sits inside this character.
I want to start with the secret celestial files. Watch Metatron move from one place to another. But what if Metatron was always in the same place? Or rather, what if Gabriel had stayed where he was? Perhaps Metatron was not present during this conversation?
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There is no God in the second season either. Where is God? Where is Jesus? Did you find them? I think I've found them. Watch attentively. They seem to exist, but they don't seem to exist.
So, I come to the conclusion that it was not Metatron who brought the coffee in episode 6. I don't know where Metatron is, but the one who came with the coffee is the shadowy figure in this story.
What if Gabriel really was sent to Hell and then came back to take revenge and take over Heaven? But here’s another question: who instead of Gabriel himself? After all, someone left heaven with a box and headed straight to the bookstore. Look here.
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Hell of a poster with Gabriel. There, at the very bottom, in small print, there are distinctive features that you need to pay attention to. Bee wear, huh? So who is actually depicted on the poster? And I won't even talk about the fact that he has the strength of God.
Who actually walked into a bookstore with a box of something that could help them avoid a terrible fate (Queen "You're My Best Friend" was playing in the coffee shop)? Who came to the bookstore because it was necessary? Who confessed their love to Aziraphale right in the first episode?
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But here another question arises: to whom did Jim confess his love?
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Look how he stretches out his arms. He thinks he's doing everything right, he doesn't understand what's wrong. Apparently he was also a little mistaken in defining the character. Who did you confess your love to, Jim? This is also an interesting question.
Think about Jim reading the first line of Good Omens, saying he likes it, and getting very thoughtful, as if he's remembering something. It’s as if he remembers this very beginning, that very nice day.
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And I really think it's Crowley, but there's a problem there too. What if in the scene with Job it was not Crowley, but Furfur. As a result, the characters change again. How many times can this happen? Three? And the last time will be without galoshes (read special spoilers).
Also pay attention to this. Gabriel gains memories, looks at everyone around him, recognizes everyone, but Gabriel does not notice Crowley at all. Would it be a big paradox if Gabriel noticed Crowley? Either way, whoever Crowley and Gabriel actually are at the end of episode six, I think they're the same character.
I also have Nina listening to Queen in her coffee shop, Maggie crying at the mention of "Everyday", Beelzebub having a crush on Gabriel/Jim, and Muriel acting like Aziraphale (Both are great at drawing).
And also these lamps.
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Please note that in the second season, time may have been mixed up and the same characters, collected from different points in time, may have ended up in the same place at the same time. Play with them, it's very exciting. And with all this, if Aziraphale and Crowley were not themselves to begin with (as, for example, at the end of the first season), then the matter becomes even more interesting.
Look for evidence in Neil's special spoilers and Prime posts. I'm sure they are there. Collect them all and analyze them. And also think about the fact that all the parallels may not be parallels, but one straight line.
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thru-the-grapevine · 2 years
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Holiday Rush
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Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader
Summary: Your favorite regular has one hell of a way of saying Merry Christmas (and getting your attention).
Word Count: 2.4k
Tags: coffee shop au, sugar daddy-adjacent au, fluff
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You’ve had less eventful Christmas Eve mornings, to be sure. Especially 4:30 AMs on Christmas Eve mornings. For starters, you were asleep like a normal person on all the other ones. For another, you weren’t usually bailed on out of nowhere by your manager due to “a family emergency”, leaving you in charge of the entire store. Nor were you typically bailed on by two other workers, both of whom had a “sudden onset illness”, leaving you with only three people other than you to cover everything the inevitable last-minute holiday-shopping horde would throw at you.
By the time you’ve got things in some semblance of order and preparation for opening, there’s already a car idling in the drive thru, and there’s a slight ache in your left temple.
“Siobhan, you’re on mobile bar,” you order. “Luke, drive bar. You’ll both have to do your own cold bar since Geo and Kennedy flaked. I need Phoenix on customer support and food. I’m gonna attempt solo drive for the first couple hours, and if it gets nuts I’ll pull one of you in to assist. If it gets slow in your area, work on putting away the order. I may have to turn off mobile if it comes to it, but that’ll piss people off, so let’s try to keep up.”
You slip your headset on, watch the digital clock on the order screen turn from 4:59 to 5:00, then click the button. “Good morning, welcome to Starbucks. What can I get started for you this morning?”
“Morning, Chief. Didn’t think you’d be here today. Happy Christmas Eve.”
A little of the tension in your head relaxes, and you smile, tapping away at the order screen. “Ah, Gyu. You’re early. Happy Christmas Eve. Usual?”
“Sounds perfect, thanks.”
“Come on around,” you say, not caring if you sound a little flirty.
Your store has its regulars, and he is by far your favorite. He comes in nearly every day, orders the same thing (grande caramel macchiato, extra shot, for “Gyu”), makes friendly conversation, and leaves a tip three times the price of his drink. Without fail. You’ve never figured out what it is he does for a living, but given the immaculate cars (yes, plural) you’ve seen him drive through in, it probably pays really well.
The whole staff loves him. Some of the bolder ones flirt with him just to fluster him, but they know if you’re on the floor to let you hand him the drink. For reasons beyond your comprehension, he seems to have a soft spot for you. He mistook you for the manager when he first stopped into the cafe, and he’s called you different in-charge nicknames since then—“chief”, “captain”, “commander”. It’s probably giving you an authority complex. You don’t care. The confidence boost his interest in you has given over the past year has gifted you a boldness that he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Must be Gyu already,” Siobhan remarks when she sees you surreptitiously smoothing your hair.
You flip her off as the hood of a familiar black BMW comes into view.
“Kinda early for Christmas Eve,” you say by way of greeting as the car window pulls level with yours.
God, he’s gorgeous, smiling up at you, all bundled up in his expensive-looking wool coat and black turtleneck.
“Could say the same for you,” he says. “Don’t they ever give you a break around here?”
Your smile turns wry, and you sigh lightly. “They’d perish without me, I think.”
“I’ll drink to that,” he says, grimacing lightly in sympathy. “Hopefully not here all day, right? Got plans for the holiday?”
“Just here ‘til noon, then going an hour north to my family’s for a couple days,” you tell him, grabbing the scanner. “Want me to cash you out?”
“Ah. About that.”
You watch him reach into the passenger seat, grabbing something the size of a woman’s clutch, then extends it to you.
You set the scanner down and go to take it, then freeze, blinking.
“Uh. Gyu.”
“Yes?”
“What is that?”
“...Money?”
“I mean. I. Yeah, like. Is it…real?”
“Yes?”
“That’s…way more than your drink.”
“Yes.”
“Like. Are those all twenties?”
“Yes.”
“...I only need a fourth of a single one of those.”
“I know. Take them all.”
You don’t understand. “I—wh…”
He grins. “I feel like being Saint Nick today. I’m paying it forward for the next customers.”
Holy shit. “The next…thousand customers?”
“Hardly. Probably half that. But you don’t know how many big orders there will be, it could be less than that, too.”
“Sir.” Your head is spinning, hand still frozen inches away from the stack of bills that looks honest-to-god like out of the mafia movies. “Sir. That’s…”
You don’t even know how to finish that sentence. That’s not necessary? Your manager would kill you if she found out you refused generosity. That’s ridiculous? It might be, but you don’t want to tell this man that, not when he’s been so wonderful to you.
“I’m not even sure I’m allowed to take this,” you say.
He shrugs. “It’s all twenties, not fifties or hundreds. You can mark them all with a counterfeit pen if it helps. Call your manager if you need, I can talk to her. If you need to call the cops, even, you can. C’mon, I’ve been planning on this for ages. Let me do this.”
The thing is…he’s allowed to do this. You suppose. Technically. You huff a single, breathless laugh, incredulous.
“You…are fucking insane,” you breathe, grinning, not caring how in awe you sound.
His smile turns flustered, and he laughs a little. “If it doesn’t all get used today, put the rest in the tips.”
He’s finally done it. He’s finally rendered you speechless. You can feel your mouth hanging open, not sure what you’re supposed to say. Not sure what you can say.
Gingerly, like it’s alive, you take the stack of bills he’s offering.
“Dude,” you say, laughing again. Absurd. “Dude. Are you…?”
“Completely sure,” he says, eyes warm. “Merry Christmas to your customers. And your staff. And you.”
“Grande caramel macchiato, extra shot,” Luke says behind you, sliding you the cup.
You linger a moment longer, holding eye contact, before ducking back in the window and setting the cash next to the register, swapping it for the drink.
“Holy shit,” you say, laughing as you hand him the drink. “Have a merry fucking Christmas, Gyu.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” he says, grinning, and then he winks at you.
Your insides light up like a Christmas tree. You indulge for a second and stare after his car as he drives off. God. What?
This Christmas Eve is about to be the most fascinating yet.
You have to get Phoenix on headset to take the next drive-thru order so you have time to count out the bills and cash out the order properly. You feel lightheaded after counting the first several hundred, possibly a little ill by the time you total it out. Three thousand.
“Holy fuck,” you mutter under your breath, laughing as you punch in the frankly ludicrous number. That’s half of what the store makes on a slow day. Granted, today will not be a slow day–you can already see more cars filing into the parking lot–but that money covers a chunk of business.
All morning, you have the absolute joy of watching people come up to the window, ready to pay, and telling them “actually, your order’s been covered by someone further up in line”. The looks of surprise, the occasional relief, and the smiles don’t get old or lose their shine. A couple of people get emotional, and you can’t blame them. You feel your own throat tighten when some of the customers insist on paying for the person behind them.
“Someone spotted me, let me spot someone, too,” one lady puts it, paying twice what she would have paid originally to cover the vanload behind her. “Why not? It’s Christmas.”
“Crazy what a little generosity inspires in people,” Phoenix comments as the lady drives away.
You can’t say you disagree, but there’s only one man in mind when you think it.
Luke points out that the more people keep paying it forward, the less that initial amount goes down, and the more of it that gets allotted to tips. You outright refuse to think about it. I can’t take that. There’s no way. I’ll have to give him money back, that’s just…
Even by the time you switch off of drive with Siobhan, about 75% of customers insist on continuing to pay it forward, keeping the dizzying remaining amount from Gyu fairly steady. Siobhan is far less willing to do the mental work of paying it forward and eventually asks whether it can’t just be cashed out to the tip fund.
“He probably wanted to leave most of it as tips, anyway,” she says, raising an eyebrow at you. “He’s got a track record, plus he likes you.”
You feel your face grow hot. “He does not.”
Siobhan rolls her eyes. “Whatever, live in denial. Can I put this in the tip fund?”
“...Fine.”
For the last hour of your shift, you concentrate on calculating tips. Even divided amongst all the store employees and adjusted for the amount of hours each person worked, everyone ends up with over a hundred in tips total. You end up with nearly twice that, after the hours you’ve done. Crazy. Absolutely unreal. You’re already thinking of the last couple gifts you were hoping you could afford to spring for for family and friends. Easily done now, with this tip money.
“Tips are in the safe,” you tell your coworkers as you zip up your coat and make for the door. “Everyone say Merry fucking Christmas, Gyu.”
You grin as you hear a chorus of “Merry fucking Christmas, Gyu!” behind you as you step out into the cold.
You’re halfway across the parking lot to your car when you notice a black BMW. You wander to a stop, hesitant, as the car pulls even with you in the nearest parking spot and the door opens.
“Did you need more coffee?” You ask, biting your lip as he steps out.
Gyu closes his car door and shakes his head, grinning. “Already got my fix today, I’m good.”
“Shame,” you say, fighting a smile, “because I happen to know that if you went through the drive-thru right now, your order would already be covered.”
He leans back against his car and raises his eyebrows. “It lasted this long? You’d think there’d be more business than that today.”
“Everyone else kept insisting on paying it forward, too,” you say, shaking your head in awe. “What did you start?”
“Well, you certainly deserve it,” he says, and the way his smile softens makes your stomach flutter. “Hopefully it’ll end up as tips, if people keep paying it forward?”
“It’s too much,” you tell him, trying to be as firm as possible. “Far too much. I really can’t accept that.”
“It’s a gift,” he insists. “For how long you’ve been subjected to my patronage.”
“Everyone loves you in the store, they always have,” you argue.
He looks at you intently. “Everyone?”
You feel your face grow hot again. “...Yes. Everyone.”
You push through the way you want to be flustered as he grins. “But that’s what I’m saying. You’re hardly a difficult customer. It was too much.”
“You know,” he says, “it’s possible I just want to spoil you.”
You open your mouth, then snap it shut, then open it again. Holy shit, he’s made you speechless again. Twice in the same day.
“You don’t even know me,” you argue weakly.
He gives you a Look. “I’ve talked to you nearly every day for around a year. I know lots of things about you. Like your cats. Your family, mainly your sister. The saga of your car. Things you like to read and watch. Some of the jokes you find funny. And you know a lot of the same things about me.”
“I don’t even know if Gyu is your real name!” You burst out.
He frowns. “It is, mostly. It’s short for Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. You’ve seen it on the receipts.”
You haven’t, but you believe him. You try out the name. “Mingyu.”
A corner of his mouth curls into a smile. He puts his hands in his coat pockets. “Tell me that hasn’t been your only hangup this whole time.”
“I-I mean…” you stammer. “N-no? I mean, it’s been one thing, but like…you’re, like. Um. You seem very…successful, and I’m…”
He frowns. “You’re successful, too. I—wait. Is this…is it money?”
“I guess I’m just…embarrassed,” you say, feeling your face burn in shame. “Maybe my pride’s too big, I dunno.”
“Hey, I don’t want you to think this is some weird, fetish-y charity case thing I have, or that I think you can be, like, bought or something,” he says, looking serious. “If you really can’t accept the money, I won’t stop you from giving it back.”
He sighs, teeth worrying his lower lip. “I just…I like you. I always have. You seem to be the only person who doesn’t realize it, or maybe I’m the idiot who can’t take a hint, but—”
“Mingyu—”
“But I really do,” he continues doggedly. “I think you work hard, but you’re so kind. You do good work so that you can be kind, so you can give people more than just something to eat or drink, and that’s just…it’s really—”
“I could kiss you right now for that,” you say, then slap a hand over your mouth. Dude??
Mingyu blinks, then laughs. “At least let me take you to dinner first.”
You wish you could sink into the pavement, even as your heart gives a silly little leap. He wants to take me to dinner. “I…I’m…”
“I know it’s Christmas Eve and you’ve got places to be,” he says, and you wonder if he looks a little nervous. “But I really would like to see you. Outside of work. Would you let me take you out sometime?”
You stand there for a moment in stupefied silence. Holy shit, this has to be a dream. A man like Kim Mingyu doesn’t just…give your workplace thousands of dollars to tip you and then ask you to dinner. What in the name of Wattpad...
“I…you’re fucking insane,” you laugh, breathless.
He looks like he doesn’t know how to take this, and before you can talk yourself out of it you find yourself saying, “I’m, uh, I’m free on New Years?”
A slow grin spreads over his face. “Yeah? Funny enough, so am I.”
Definitely the strangest Christmas Eve you’ve ever had. But it may also be your new favorite.
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flxwrites · 1 year
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𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐘
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It's Christmas time, snow covers much of the pavement on New York streets. It has been exactly 10 months since you last saw Harry.
You miss him like hell, the apartment feels so empty without his presence; even though he calls you every night on FaceTime to talk about your day and sometimes have some fun.
You know he probably won't be able to spend the holidays with you because the tour will run through the end of the year and he told you he planned to spend Christmas with his family. So you're on your own, you're flying next week to your hometown to be with your parents and the rest of your family.
You head to your favorite coffee shop to read some of your book you've been obsessed with lately, and drink some of that delicious hot chocolate with marshmallows floating on top of the cup. Before you could get inside, you see a couple sitting in one of the tables, and your heart aches when they kiss because they look so happy; but you're alone instead of sharing these times with Harry.
You feel the little lump forming in your throat and you pull your phone out of your purse to walk away from the coffee shop. You call your boyfriend, tears pooling in your eyes and the cold air hitting your body.
“Hey, babe. I was just about to-"
“I hate you.” You cut him off.
You hear silence on the other line so you don't expect him to answer so you keep talking.
“I hate you for making me miss you so much, for making me feel bad about being so selfish because I want you by my side right now and I-I can't have you." A whimper comes out of your mouth.
"Are you done yet, love?" he says to you and you don't even bother to answer his question. "Good, I'll take that as a yes. Now I want you to walk to Central Park, I know you go to that coffee shop nearby every day at this hour so you must not be too far away."
“I don't want to go to Central Park, Harry. I want you." You mumble and your voice sounds slightly calmer but your heart still aches.
"If you go to Central Park, you're going to have me, love..." He mentions in that tone of voice he only uses with you.
But then you react, Harry is in New York and he is here for you. Your feet walk faster making your boots clatter against the pavement; your breath hitches and you feel your heartbeat quicken.
"You didn’t...god, Harry tell me-" You say through the phone.
Central Park is only a few blocks from the coffee shop so it doesn't take you long to get there, especially since you were basically running.
You see him standing there, holding the phone to his ear with one hand and the other tucked into the pocket of the black jacket he's wearing, his hair tied back. Your eyes fill again with tears as you run to him to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso.
You're crying against him, you haven't even hung up the call but it's the last thing you care about at that moment. When you feel your boyfriend's arms around you that's all you need to start feeling every part of you being reborn.
You don't depend on Harry, of course not but you missed his touch, his smell, his presence and everything about him.
"I missed you, lovie." You hear his voice close to your ear.
You lower yourself back down to the floor so you can put your feet on the ground but you're still hugging his neck, he looks up at you with a smile and his big hands cradle your face while his thumbs wipe away the tears that managed to escape your eyes.
"I can't believe you're here..." You mumble as you sniffle your nose.
"You don't know what I would do for you." He tells you before pulling you close to his lips to kiss yours. After a few seconds, you pull away slightly to meet his eyes again.
"Shall we go home?, I have a surprise for you." He whispers and his breath comes out like smoke due to the low temperature in the city.
"It wasn't necessary, H. Just having you here is the best gift you could have given me." you smile at him and he seems to fall more in love.
Harry fell head over heels in love with you because of your simplicity and charisma, not to mention that you look like the most beautiful woman in the world to him.
"I just wanted to show you how much I love you with a little something." And without further ado, you head home, holding hands as you talk and share kisses.
When you are standing in front of the house, Harry opens the door with the set of keys he has and lets you in.
"Let's go in the living room, baby." Your boyfriend says to you as he closes the door behind you. Before you go you hang your coats on the coat rack and then you go.
You smile when he sees the little puppy asleep on the couch, he has a little bow around his neck. You feel Harry's hands caress your waist and his lips on your cheek.
"Do you like it love?, I went to the adoption center myself. Since you told me when you were little you had one and it escaped I decided we could have one."
You don't answer him because you turn to hug him and fill his face with kisses.
"I love it. It's the best gift I've ever gotten." You smile and caress his face. "Thank you so much, baby."
"For you I would fly from halfway around the world to come home to you."
———————
Hey!
This is my first shot on Tumblr, i hope you enjoyed it and as you can see. English is not my first language so if there’s something misspelled on the writing, feel free to tell me so i can fix it :)
Thank you for reading 💓
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luvdsc · 4 years
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mark lee sucks at technology.
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tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!
pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.
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In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.
Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 
Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.
Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.
The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.
“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”
His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.
“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.
“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”
His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”
“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”
You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.
“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”
“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.
You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.
You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.
“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”
“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”
Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).
“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.
“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.
“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”
“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.
“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”
“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”
The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.
“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.
“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.
“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”
“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.
“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”
“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”
“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).
“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 
You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.
“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”
“No cookie?”
“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”
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Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.
Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.
After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 
Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”
“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”
Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”
His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”
By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.
As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.
“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.
“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”
“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.
“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”
“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.
When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).
“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”
“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).
“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.
“... No.”
You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”
Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.
Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.
After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?
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Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 
Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.
However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.
You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.
“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”
“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”
“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”
“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”
Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”
“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”
“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.
“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.
“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”
Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”
He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.
And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.
You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”
“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.
“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 
“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”
“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”
“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”
“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”
You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.
You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”
Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”
You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”
Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”
You take a deep breath. “This.”
You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.
A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”
You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”
“Definitely not.”
This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.
When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.
“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.
“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.
“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.
“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.
“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”
When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”
“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”
“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.
“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.
“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.
“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.
“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:
“Can we do number three again?”
“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”
He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.
At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?
Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.
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One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!
moominjun commented:
so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?
donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧
nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖
goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴
morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck
tytrack commented:
mark is going through puberty. I apologize
dobunny replied: @.@
goofys.chuckle commented:
are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?
morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????
goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀
showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?
goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺
showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???
moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO
goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊
jenojam commented:
why am I not surprised……
itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉
suhprisemf commented:
mark your head looks flat af
jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂
10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry
letswonwon commented:
whoop whoop
junguwu commented:
OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍
takoyaki_prince commented:
MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘
jisungpwark commented:
rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻
bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔
peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺
yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️
donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔
morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????
officialgordonramsay commented:
didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?
apado_god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
3K notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 4 years
Note
request: some christmassy idea where marcus moreno brings presents he bought for missy to the shop to get wrapped up bc he cant wrap for shit. And he wants to flirt with reader whos the one whos gonna wrap the presents but for the love of the above he cant. hes stuttering and hes flustered and its cute. And reader is like okay mister "i can use the force", heres my number, call me so we can shedule a date. And hes so shocked about it 😄😭😭😭 thank u patricia! 🌟
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I see it's time to write for Mr. Moreno? Excellent 😌 Enjoy!
Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader; no warnings
Pedro Characters Masterlist
»»————- ♡ ————-««
A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he reluctantly returned to the store, the bag of presents in his hand a sign of defeat. How hard it could possibly have been to wrap a few presents? Apparently too hard for someone like Marcus Moreno. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried, oh no, he’d spent several hours the previous evening after Missy had gone to bed attempting to wrap the clothes and other oddly shaped boxes perfectly. But instead of success, all he gained was frustration. 
Instead of another vain attempt at the wrapping, he gave up and threw everything back into the bag and made his mind that he would go back to the small department store and ask...beg if you required it, for you to wrap the gifts. 
He might have been able to save the world on several occasions, but apparently his talents ended at Christmas gift wrapping. Well, he huffed to himself as he pulled open the door, the soft twinkling of bells meeting his ears, everyone had a limit. His just happened to be a little more pathetic than others. 
Super Hero, he reminded himself with each step, he was a fudgin’ super hero for fuck’s sake. But alas, when it came to more domestic things, such as cooking, and wrapping apparently, he was far from super. He was working on it though - spending time each day to make sure he was learning - doing enough - to be the father Missy needed. For her, and himself. Things weren’t always easy, but they were always getting better. 
Although tired from a long day at the office, throwing swords around, as Missy had dubbed it, his face instantly lit up when he spied you behind the counter, an almost bored expression on your face. The last of the Christmas rush was almost over, which meant business had slowed down, which was both a blessing and a curse at the same time. Marcus would have been a liar if he said he didn’t have an ulterior motive for coming back; sure - he wanted the presents wrapped, but let’s be honest, the man was smitten with you. Any excuse to come back and chat with you, even if it was just five minutes was good enough for him. 
He’d known you, casually, for a few years now. You had been Missy’s teacher at school last year, and he knew that you worked the summers and holidays at your parent’s store to give them a hand with the rushes. Sometimes, being the sneaky Heroic he was, he’d made up excuses in the past to come into your classroom to spend a few minutes here and there talking to you. It was hard to believe that anyone could make him nervous, to make his heart flutter and beat like a nervous schoolboy, but there you were. Managing to do it every time. 
But he’d never act on it. No, no, no. That would be downright outrageous. After all, why on earth would you be interested in Marcus Moreno? He couldn’t even wrap a present.
Almost as if you sensed his presence, you looked up from the counter you were organized and offered him a dazzling smile, accompanied by a small wave. He was positive his heart stopped at the sight as he had to remind himself to breath. After a quick inhale and exhale, he marched over to you, ready to be firm, and hell, maybe today he’d finally ask if you wanted to get dinner sometime. Why not, after all? But then he took a good look at your eyes, those soft eyes and that gentle smile and he came undone.
“Hi Marcus,” you beamed at him as he did his best to give you a normal smile in response, “what a pleasure to see a friendly face. How are you?”
“Hi,” he managed to choke out as he calmed himself. How did you have this effect on him? He was a grown man, a man with plenty of experience in dating and love, and yet this one he couldn’t seem to nail down, “I’m fine  - you know what, why lie? I’m tired and I can’t wrap presents for shit. I hate to ask, but could you help me out? I’ve seen you do it for other people and I’m afraid if I try again, it’ll be worse than the first time. It’s been awful - oh my God, I’m so rude. I’m rambling - you look pretty - nice - how are you?”
“Marcus,” you giggled at him, watching as a nervous tinge of pink flushed his cheeks. You put your hand on his, effectively getting him to calm down and shut up, “slow down. It’s okay - I’ve got you covered. I assume work is busy?”
“That’s one way to put it,” he was instantly relieved as you took the presents from and grabbed some wrapping paper to display to him. He nodded at your choice and watching in awe as you made quick work of grabbing the first present and getting to work, “I was about ready to just leave him in the bag and give them to Missy like that.”
“Ahh, it’s not a big deal,” you shot him a quick wink, “it’s easy once you get the hang of it. But then again, I’ve been helping my parents with this stuff for years. Maybe sometime I’ll show you how.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” he exhaled as he leaned against the counter and tried to pay it cool. His heart was thumping in his chest so rapidly, he was sure you were able to hear it as well. If you noticed anything out of place, you didn’t show it, “I’ll pay you - whatever you want.”
“Marcus,” you waved him off, “there’s no need. Besides, what are friends for?”
“Friends,” he almost choked on the word as he grinned at the delicate look of concentration on your face. Your brow was furrowed, your tongue peeking out from between your lips as you made sure to get all the measurements just right, “how’s everything been? It’s been a while…”
“I know,” you agreed as you started some ribbon to start curling it, “I miss you coming into my classroom all the time, I miss Missy - it’s not quite the same without the Morenos.”
How much could hint at it before he finally got the bait? You’d harbored a crush on the man for years now, even before you became Missy's teacher. He was a Heroic after all - handsome, funny, smart, and kind. Who wouldn't fall in love with him? You'd hinted at your feelings a number of times and you thought he reciprocated a few times, but you could never be quite sure. And neither of you ever seemed to make a move. You'd come close a few times, but somehow just hadn't...quite gotten there.
“I miss it too,” he agreed quietly, turning his attention to his hands, “Missy doesn’t like her teacher as much this year.”
“That’s because I’m pretty cool,” you teased gently, “you look nice too, by the way. The all black thing - pretty sexy.”
Marcus was sure his heart stopped at your words; you couldn’t seriously have said what he thought you said. Right? Right. He looked at you with wide eyes as you refused to look up from what you were doing in case you had completely overstepped any remaining boundaries. 
“I, umm…” he paused for a moment, chuckling at his own nerves as he moved to stand in front of you, “I’m shit at this. But I, umm...I like you.”
“Marcus,” you stopped what you were doing and set the scissors down to meet his soft brown eyes. He had a small smile on his face, nervous as he watched your expression to try and get a read on the situation. Honestly? He’d rather have taken down another horde of aliens than wait for your response, “it’s about time you said something. I was beginning to think you never would.”
“Oh,” he let a nervous chuckle as your words set in, “oh. Oh?”
“I like you too, Marcus,” you admitted as a warmth flushed over you, “I just...I didn’t know how to say it. I was…”
“Nervous,” you both blurted out at the same time as you both laughed. At least you were on the same page. 
“I haven’t done this in a long time,” he confessed as you nodded in understanding, “I feel like an old fool more than anything...but I’d like to take you out. On a date. A real date. Like you know not just...this, and I’m sorry if this is awkward. Missy’s been telling me to ask you forever and I just feel like -”
“Marcus,” you grinned at him as you reached up and held up a finger to his lips, “you’re rambling again, silly. I’d love to. I’d love to go out with you.”
“Seriously?” his eyebrows raised in surprise as you just nodded. Needless to say, he was not expecting this - any of it. 
“Seriously,” you confirmed, “come on, Mr. Force Hands, give me your phone and I’ll give you my number.”
“Okay,” he looked at you with nothing but soft hope in his eyes as he fished out his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You let your hand brush over his as you took it and quickly saved your number for him, “I...yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” you agreed, “but don’t actually forget to text me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he breathed out easily, “besides, I owe Missy twenty bucks now and she’ll never forget it. We made a bet - she said I’ve never get the nerve to ask.”
“What a pleasant surprise,” you grinned at him, “now come on. Come around the counter and I’ll show you how to wrap properly.”
Marcus shuffled around the counter and you pointed to the spot you had previously occupied. Moving behind him, you paused for a moment before reaching around him to put your hands over his and help guide him. He swallowed thickly at your tender touch, trying to keep himself composed. 
“Now,” you said softly, “do it like this.”
It was definitely not what Marcus had expected to come out of this evening - but he was so glad it did. Finally. 
Maybe not being able to wrap presents wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
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House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 1
Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.
Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking
Read it on AO3
Chapter 1: New Home
It's just before midnight when you finally get off work. You really like your job, but the hours are murder. Being a chef at one of the most expensive five-star restaurants in Philadelphia has its price. You take off your apron, which has hardly any stains from the last few hours on it, and throw it in the wash. The white jacket goes neatly into your locker and is replaced by a cardigan and a scarf. It’s a cool night. With a last good bye to your colleagues, who are still putting the dishes into the dishwashers, you make your way home.
The night is dark, but the streets are lit by lanterns and the windows of closed stores. Even if it had been pitch black, it wouldn't have worried you to have to walk alone through the empty alleys. Last year a guy had tried to rob you and threatened you with a knife. You had given him a broken nose and several stab wounds in the shoulder. After all, you had been trained at Shield. But the poor guy didn’t know that.
Half an hour later you arrive at your apartment. It's more functional than nicely furnished, and everything is a bit of a pick 'n' mix. But you don't mind it, because you spend most of your time at work anyway. At home you don't feel such great importance to culinary variety when it comes to your own food. A pizza or French fries with ketchup were always welcome. After all, you've been standing at the stove long enough at work. Tired, you decide to wait until breakfast for your next meal and, after a quick change of clothes, just fall into bed.
Fortunately, the next day is your day off. You make good use of it and sleep in. Afterwards you have an nice brunch with eggs, bacon and toast and after a short shower you go into town to do some errands. The sun is shining warmly from the sky and it's a beautiful spring day. If this holds up until the weekend, maybe you'd visit the weekly market and see what exotic and rare foods you can grab there. You love these little trips, even if you rarely find the time.
About two hours later and with three full shopping bags, you re-enter your apartment. It's on the second floor of a rather nondescript building, but the interior is very modern, with pastel-colored, high walls. You put everything in the kitchen cabinets and then brew yourself a tea/coffee, with which you make yourself comfortable on the couch and turn on the TV. It's time to relax a little. So you zap through the programs, watch the rest of an episode of your favorite series and then decide to watch a reality series, which is not exactly known for its quality but is entertaining. So the noon goes by until suddenly the doorbell rings. You get up to see if it's the mailman or a neighbor with a package. But a look through the peephole shows you that it is neither. Surprised, you open the door "Nat!" Natasha Romanoff is a friend of you and your brother, as well as the godmother of his children. But due to her job you rarely see each other. "Hey," she greets you with a small smile. "Can I come in?" "Sure." You lead her into the living room, where you turn off the TV. "What can I get you? Tea, coffee, milkshake?" "Coffee is fine." You disappear into the kitchen for a moment as she sits down in the armchair. Natasha was a rare visitor. Mostly she came with some news from Clint. You see him even less because he spends what little free time he has mostly with his wife and the two kids. Understandable. You don't hold it against him and try to visit them on holidays or for birthdays at her farm.
It doesn't take long until you return to the Russian woman with a new cup and some pastries and sit down on the couch again. "Well," you ask her curiously. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Natasha reaches for her cup. "It’s rather inconvenience. But first tell me if you’ve observed anything unusual lately." Questioningly, you look at her. "What do you mean?" "Nothing weird? You sure?", she asks. "Tell me what I'm supposed to have seen, please," you prompt her, both impatient and confused. Natasha gets right to the point. "You're being monitored." "By Shield?" "By Hydra." Stunned by this news, you remain silent. Natasha uses this pause to drink her coffee. "Oh, this is really good." But you don't listen to her at all, because various thoughts are circling in your head. And again you try to remember if you have noticed anything: same people you met, vehicles, anything. But you got pretty used to your life and didn't pay attention at these things. "Anyway, I'm here to pick you up. For your own safety it’s best if you stay with us for a while," Natasha finally breaks the silence and you look up. "What could Hydra possibly want from me? I don't know any internal secrets anymore. There are better to kidnap than me." "That's what we're trying to figure out right now." "Well, the danger doesn't seem to be acute", you note. "If they wanted to grab me, I wouldn't be sitting here by now. Thanks, but I decline and prefer to stay here. I have my job and the apartment." And now that you know what's going on, you can pay attention and take the necessary precautions, too. "Thanks for warning me." Natasha, on the other hand, doesn't look like she gives you a choice. "You know Shield has its ways to convince you?", she reminds you, but you shrug. Why would such a large organization bother with a single civilian like you? "What does my dear brother say about this matter?", you ask instead. "He hasn't been informed yet." Ergo, they deliberately leave him out of it so that he can't protest. You know this kind of approach of Shield.
Clint understands and supports you in your civilian life, even though he protested the loudest back when you announced your exit. "How’s he?", you want to know from Natasha, who is now finishing her coffee. "He's alive." That can mean just about anything from being happy and healthy to badly hurt but breathing. Better than being dead, you guess. "He's out in Africa with Steve right now." "Busy, huh?" "As usual." She stands up as a sign that she has nothing more to say for the day, and you walk her to the door, where you bid her farewell. "We'll talk again soon," she promises, but admittedly you have little desire to do so right now. "Sure," you reply and close the door behind her.
Well, that were some news. You put her empty cup in the sink and pause thoughtfully by the window. How could you have missed Hydra's agent, you ask yourself while glancing out. Your new life made you too comfortable. But it also takes up a lot of time and energy. And anyway, you dropped out because you didn't want to be cautiousness all the time anymore. You wanted a normal life with a normal job and normal problems. Away from agents, assassinations and super powers. You didn't want to check every day on your way to work if you were being followed, secretly monitored or if someone else was out to get you. That's why you’ve chosen this life. With a sigh, you sit back down on the couch. The past never leaves you alone, you guess. But tomorrow would be a long day even without these new old worries.
~~
The advantage of being a chef is usually that you don't have to get up at the crack of dawn for work. Most Restaurants open at noon, some even in the evening. So does the one where you work. There are preparations to be made before opening time, but you can still sleep through the morning, do some housework, and then head to the restaurant in the sunny afternoon. That's where the trouble starts, though. Just as you're about to open your locker to change your clothes, someone taps you on the shoulder. It's your boss, who hands you a letter. You can tell immediately from his serious expression that something is wrong. And when you open the envelope, you discover your resignation. You look up, perplexed, but you lose out in the following discussion. You don't even get a decent explanation, and that’s what annoys you the most. You're pretty sure your skills aren’t the issue, neither is the way you work. Nor the way you treat your colleagues, with whom you get along very well, even if the tone among cooks is a bit rough. You go back to your apartment, now in a bad mood. It‘s unbelievable! The sunny weather seems like a mockery to you now, and the people you meet along the way are in far too good a mood, in your opinion. It will be hell to find another good job as this was.
Arriving back home you immediately get more bad news: your landlord put a notice on your apartment door. The bathrooms in the building will get completely renovated soon and will be unusable for several weeks. Plus the heavy construction noise during the day. And the water would be turned off. It would be best to find temporary substitute apartment, so they recommend. "Haha...ha..." You laugh dryly and unlock the door. Was that a coincidence? When Natasha had been here yesterday? Probably not. You know Shield's methods and that it’s easy for them to take away your job and your apartment just to get their way. You have two options: either you accept the offer before Shield gets any more stupid ideas, or you run away and try to hide. With a sigh you go into your bedroom and throw a suitcase on the bed, in which you pack clothes, the most important documents and some things from the kitchen you need for work. Not everything fits, so you add a second travel bag. Meanwhile, you think about who you could complain to. Your brother was a favorite target of yours, but he a) had nothing to do with this matter and b) was not in the country. Which’s a shame, because you'd really like to have him by your side right now. If you wanted to complain to Shield directly, Fury would probably be the best person to do it. But you hold too much respect for him to vent your anger to him. Maybe just the next Shield agent who would come to you on this matter would have to step in. You know someone would definitely get back to you. With one last look around your apartment, you leave it and lock the door. Then you shoulder your bag and make your way out.
Just as you're thinking about getting a large coffee from Starbucks down the street, a red sports car pulls up to the side of the road. Natasha at the wheel. "Hmph..." You walk over to her and throw your luggage in the back seat. Then you take a seat in the passenger seat yourself. "Just for the record, I'm not happy with this." "I can see that." She tries to give a sympathetic smile, but you know this is just a job to her. "Well then, off to the Bat Cave, Wayne." "Does that make you Robin?", the Russian asks, driving off. "I guess", you reply snippy, not interested in keeping the conversation going. Fortunately, Natasha wasn't exactly the talkative sort either, so you have some peace and quiet to get your thoughts in order.
It takes you just under two hours to drive from Philadelphia to New York with city traffic slowing you down a bit. Otherwise, you would have arrived earlier at the former Stark Tower. It's been the Avenger Tower for some time now, but that doesn't make much difference, except that Tony Stark seems to be too lazy to put the remaining letters back on it.
Natasha parks in the private underground garage and you take the elevator up to the grand lobby. She tells you about the current residents here. There’s the usual staff, who are of course always present. Of all the Avengers, Bruce Banner is living here permanently. "He actually hardly ever leaves the lab," the Russian explains. "I'm currently living here, too. Every now and then Thor stops by, but mostly he prefers to explore the world. And his brother Loki is here. There have been some...problems with him and he's sort of under supervision here. Tony trusts technology more than Asgard. The owner of the house, by the way, is out visiting an outpost right now." "There are even Avengers outposts?" Natasha nods as she walks you down the halls to the living area. "But don't tell Hydra." "Sure", you promise unfazed. "Speaking of which, if I want to go out to visit someone, do I need a key or how does this work?" "It's better if you stay here in the house for now. It's for your safety, after all." "For how long?", you want to know. The answer is short. "As long as necessary." "So I'm sort of locked in here”, you state. That's typical Shield. As soon as there's any problem, an agent is sent in to put everything in solitary arrest or quarantine. As long as it’s shielded from the rest of the world. Natasha stops in front of a door that is now yours, but doesn't look directly at you, which as much of an answer as you get. "I'll be fine on my own now, thanks," you smile politely but not genuinely at her, and after she assures you that you're free to move around inside the building, you head off with your luggage in your new apartment.
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procrastinatingnerd · 3 years
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Hi everyone! So this was my first time taking part in the @osemanversebigbang but I had so much fun!! I can't wait to read everyone's entries! 💜
Title: Angel Rahimi And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Lunch Break
Characters: Angel, Juliet, Rowan, Jimmy, Lister, Bliss, two of Angel’s future uni friends (OCs).
Spoilers? Minor spoilers of important events in “I Was Born For This”.
Word Count: 3.6k
Ships: Bicci, one joke about Juliet/Rowan.
~Joan of Arc (Probably)
“I am so fucking tired”
“Right, time’s up, put your pens down.” The exam officer says from the front of the room. I scribble one last sentence before my hand gives out, and I all but throw my pen onto the desk, sighing as dramatically as I can. This week is a fucking nightmare. Exams and assignments are the piss. Fuck uni, I’m ready to drop out. Or drop dead. Either works, honestly.
As I leave the exam hall, I walk past some people from the students’ union. They’re handing out flyers for the Christmas ball next week. My housemates are all planning on going, but my friends and I planned our present swap for that night, so we’re going to spend it eating a fuck ton of snacks and watching the cheesiest Christmas films we can find. I can’t wait, I bought them each a bag of their favourite sweets from the American candy shop, it's going to be so much fun!
But that’s next week. Right now, all I want is to sit at a table that doesn’t have an exam paper on it, and eat something very greasy and very unhealthy. There’s a pizza place just on the edge of campus, run by some of the culinary arts students, and they make the best sauce ever. It’s pretty cheap too, which makes it a favourite for most people, especially at the end of a semester, when everyone’s bank accounts are running low.
I have about an hour until I need to be back in the exam hall, so I take full advantage of the outdoor seating and collapse into a chair after ordering. My pizza is brought out to me not long after, and I breathe in the smell. Nothing has smelt more gorgeous than the slices sitting in front of me. It’s a surprisingly warm day, for December at least, and for a moment, everything feels calm. I can hear a bird singing in a tree somewhere, other students are hanging around campus, most with their noses in their phones or in textbooks, and I actually let myself relax for a bit. I’ve done all the revision I can for this next exam, and I’m in desperate need of a break. I deserve this.
I pick up my first slice of pizza, and bring it up to my mouth. As I’m about to take a bite, however, my phone rings. I put the pizza down with a sigh and answer the phone without looking at who’s calling. Mum probably sensed I wasn’t doing any work, and is calling to check up on me.
“Hello?” I say tiredly.
“Angel, hi! Is this a good time??” I grin at the sound of Juliet’s voice.
“Hell yeah, it’s a perfect time! What’s up?”
“Wait, you don’t know why I’m calling?” Juliet says hesitantly. Shit. What have I forgotten now? I know it’s not her birthday. Wait, is it mine?? I swear exams rot your brain, have I actually forgotten my own birthday?
“No…?” I ask after internally monologuing for way too long.
“Oh my god, you don’t know??” Juliet screeches in my ear, “Angel go look at your phone, it’s urgent!”
Now very concerned, I put Juliet on speaker and, for the first time all morning, actually read the notifications filling my lock screen. I open the Twitter news one, and my mouth drops open in shock.
“Holy shit.”
On my screen is a news article with a headline that reads, “THE ARK’S JIMMY KAGA-RICCI AND LISTER BIRD’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP EXPOSED”, and just below it sits a large photo of Jimmy and Lister, standing outside a pub, kissing. I don’t believe it.
“Holy fu- Hold on a second. Mate, isn’t that the pub by Piero’s house?!” I say, bringing my phone as close to my face as I can, as if that’ll help me see better. There’s a loud shuffling noise on the other end of the line, and then I hear a gasp.
“Oh my god, you’re right!” Juliet says. “Rowan said they were going on holiday, but I thought he meant abroad or something.” I smile at that. Ever since our little jaunt to Kent last summer, Juliet and I have kept in touch with the boys. We even have a group chat now; us and them and even Bliss is in it. I’m so glad we stayed friends.
At first, Rowan was really quiet, and if he did speak he and Juliet would almost always end up arguing, but they’ve been getting along quite well lately. I’m not saying I ship it or anything, I’ve learnt my lesson there, but I have to say, fangirl-to enemies-to lovers would make a wicked fanfiction trope.
“Did you see any of this coming?” Juliet continues. “Surely Jimmy would have said something to you?”
“He said he was dating someone, but didn’t want to give details because they were taking things slow. Well, that and that celebrity phone hacking scandal freaked him right the fuck out, remember?” I say.
"That's
right, he stopped talking on the group chat for like two weeks, didn’t he?” Juliet giggles back. “Well, nevertheless, I’m happy for them. They’re cute together.”
“Yeah, they are.” I grin again. “Oh my god, poor Rowan though! I’d hate to live with a couple, especially a new one! It’d be nauseating.”
“Oh I know, right? And imagine what’ll happen when they have their first fight!” Juliet gasps again. I shudder at the thought.
“I’m muting the group chat when that happens.” I joke.
“Not a bad idea.” Juliet laughs back, then pauses. “Oh, Angel, I’m sorry I’ve got the get going, but do you want to skype later?”
“Yeah, no problem! I’ve got a revision session at 6, but I should be free by 9ish?”
“Sounds perfect! See you then!” Juliet says, and with that, she’s gone, and I’m back to sitting alone with my pizza.
Jimmy and Lister. Holy shit. I don’t think anyone in the fandom saw this coming. Everything has been about Jowan, since the fandom started growing it’s the only ship that ever existed. No one bothered writing fics about any other pairings. The only Jimmy/Lister fics I ever came across were platonic ones, and even they made sure to mention Jimmy’s boyfriend Rowan.
Oh god, I hope they’re okay. The fans got so crazy when Bliss and Rowan’s relationship was exposed. Jimmy/Lister is the final nail in the Jowan coffin. Jimmy must be having the panic attack of his life! I’ve got to-
My phone rings again.
I look down at the screen, and see Jimmy’s name. I take a deep breath, and answer.
“Jimmy, hi! How are-”
“Have you seen it??”
“Yes.”
“Oh god. This isn’t how we wanted to tell you guys.”
“You sure? Because getting caught by the national press worked so well for you last time.” I tease. Silence. Oops, probably not the best thing to remind him of right now.
“Jimmy, you still there?” I say carefully. There’s a slight rustle on his end, which means he probably just nodded. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise. The fans will move on. They already did with Jowan, right?”
“But what if something happens again? Something like-”
“It won’t. You guys have better security now, and you’re doing less public events. You’re going to be fine.” I hope and pray that I’m saying the right things. Jimmy and I have gotten close lately, but I’m nowhere near as good at helping him deal with his anxiety as Rowan and Lister are. There’s more silence, until finally, Jimmy speaks again.
“Okay. Yeah. Yeah I think you’re right. Thanks, Angel.”
“Course I’m right! If there’s one thing I know, it’s fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs, and I grin back. “And don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. This is happening to Lister too, and no doubt Rowan and Bliss will be there to help you. Just talk to them.”
“Thank you Angel, I’ll go do that now.”
“Perfect! Love you Jim, I’ll text you later.” I say, and the call ends.
He’ll be okay. He’s got too many people who love him not to be. I take another breath and put my phone down on the table. As soon as I do, however, it buzzes again, and I see Jimmy is trying to facetime me. Now very concerned, I answer it and hold the phone up so he can see my face properly.
“Jimmy, are you okay, what’s happened??” I ask anxiously, but he looks fine. He looks at me with a confused expression.
“Nothing, I’m just talking to the others, like you said.” He says. It’s only me and him on the call. I stare at him in silence for a moment.
“Jimmy, mate… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not any of them” I say slowly, and to my surprise, Jimmy laughs.
“Yeah I know, but I was kind of hoping to have you here, too, if that’s okay?” He says sheepishly. “It’s okay if you’re busy, it’s just that… I don’t know, you’re good with this stuff and you make me feel calm? Sorry, I know that’s a lot to just dump on you.” Jimmy doesn’t look at me directly, and I start to feel tears in my eyes.
“Well damn, Jim, I guess if you truly love me that much, I can stick around for a bit.” I laugh, and quickly glance at the time. “My lunch break is only halfway over, anyway, so I have plenty of time to hang out while you talk to the others.”
Jimmy seems to let out a breath, like he’d been holding it, and grins.
Just as I’m about to start talking again, I hear a ping, and Lister’s face appears on screen, followed by Rowan and Bliss.
“Hey Jimjam, you okay?” Rowan asks, looking as calm as ever. “Oh hey Angel.” He adds. I give him an awkward smile.
“Wait, Angel's here?” Bliss interrupts before Jimmy can answer. “Nice, how’s the week from hell going? Didn’t think we’d hear from you until you’d made it through.”
“Yeah it’s rough, but I’m getting there. This is a welcome distraction though.” I grin at her.
“So you’ve seen the pictures then. They look good, right?” Lister chimes in, before correcting himself. “I mean, it’s horrible they found us, fucking pricks, but you’ve got to admit we look good.”
“You can be so self-centred sometimes.” Bliss laughs.
“Come on Lister, this isn’t a joke.” Rowan chides him.
“Well, I guess he isn’t wrong..” Jimmy mumbles nervously and I see him smile a bit.
“See, Jimmy agrees with me!” Lister argues back at Rowan, who rolls his eyes.
“It’s still not something to laugh about.” Rowan says firmly. “Cecily’s already on damage control, cancelling some events, beefing up the security at others, and giving the tabloids hell. She’s also let your grandad know, Jimmy.”
“Wait, aren’t you guys all down there already?” I ask, confused.
“Nah we got back last night. That picture was taken when we went out for lunch the other day. Took their time printing it.” Lister says.
“Probably needed time to pad out their articles. Seriously, how can they write so many pages about two people dating?” Bliss adds.
“Probably whining about how Jowan is now well and truly dead.” Rowan rolls his eyes again. “Although I have to say, I’m pretty happy about that part.” I cringe slightly as he says that. I will never not regret being one of the Jowan fangirls.
“So Cecily’s already got a plan? That’s good, that’s a bit of a relief.” Jimmy speaks up, looking visibly more relaxed than he had sounded over the phone earlier.
“Yeah she’s got it sorted, so we can start planning our Christmas party!” Lister says, making the others groan.
“Lister what the hell makes you think we should be throwing a massive fucking party right now?!” Rowan says, his voice growing louder. Lister goes quiet, looking like he wants to shrink into his seat, before eventually speaking up again.
“Look, it doesn’t have to be anything big, I just mean… Angel, you’re gonna be in London with Juliet, right? Come over, drag Bliss with you, Jimmy can invite his grandad, Rowan you can bring Jade, and there you go, that’s our party!”
“That’s...actually a good idea.” Rowan says, surprised.
“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” Jimmy adds.
“I’m up for it, Angel, do you think Juliet will wanna come?” Bliss says.
“Hell yeah she would, let’s do it!” I reply with a massive smile on my face. Partying with Bliss and the boys sounds like the best way to spend my Christmas London trip. I’ll make sure to tell Juliet about it when I talk to her later. As I start planning all the food I’m going to bring over, and wondering what the boys’ flat will look like at Christmas, the conversation starts up again.
“You sure you’re doing alright, Jimmy? I can come back home if you need me to.” Rowan says, focusing things on the issue at hand again.
“No no, don’t worry, stay with your family. They’d kill me if I made you miss out on spending time with them.” Jimmy jokes. “I’ve got Lister here, and Cecily’s number if I need it. My head isn’t giving me too much grief right now, anyway.”
“Wait, Lister, you’re there with him?” Bliss asks.
“Yeah, check it out!” Lister says, before picking up his phone and moving. He takes us out of what I think was his room, through a hallway and comes out into a large living room, where we can see Jimmy on a sofa looking at his phone. “Say hi to the chat, Jim!”
Everyone laughs as Jimmy gives an awkward wave to Lister’s phone. Lister then hangs up and launches himself into view of Jimmy’s screen, and the two shuffle about until they’re practically sitting on top of each other, faces
squished together so the tiny phone camera captures them both. I hate how cute they look together.
“Alright, if you’re sure, Jimmy,” Rowan says, smiling for probably the first time this whole call.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Jimmy smiles back. “This whole situation is terrifying, and I’m more than ready to hide in my room and not see another mad fangirl for the rest of my life, but... if I did that we’d never get to hang out with Angel again.” He finishes, biting his lip as if unsure of whether or not the joke will hit.
“Uh..ouch!” I clap my hand on top of my heart dramatically and laugh, while the others join in. “I’ll have you know I’ve abandoned my fangirl ways. Mostly. Sort of. Okay, not completely but I’m not shipping real people anymore, so that’s something, right?!”
Lister is giving Jimmy a look of what I can only assume is pride for making a decent joke during a time of peak anxiety, Rowan has his head in his hands, probably contemplating his life choices now that Lister seems to be rubbing off on Jimmy, and Bliss still looks shocked that such a joke came out of Jimmy’s mouth, not Lister’s. When things calm down again, I check the time and speak up again.
“Well this has been fun Jim, but I’m afraid I have mad fangirl duties to be getting back to. Shrines to build, fanfiction to write, you know how it is.” I say sarcastically.
“Thanks again, Angel, for being here, and listening. And you’d better be right about that fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs again, although this time I see his smile falter a bit.
“Hey, look at me,” I say, moving as close to the screen as I can without squishing my face on it. “Things will settle down before you know it, in the meantime, we’re all here for you. You’re not alone in this.” Rowan and Bliss nod in agreement, and I see Lister hug Jimmy closer. Jimmy takes a breath and nods as well.
“Thanks Angel. And good luck with your exam. We’ll see you over the holidays.” He smiles.
“Yeah you got this Angel, go smash it!” Bliss chimes in, giving me a thumbs up and a grin. I say one last goodbye to them all, and hang up.
I look back down at my pizza, still uneaten. I need to stop letting myself get distracted during phone calls. I can eat and talk to my friends at the same time. I’m usually a master at it.
“Fereshteh!” I look up again. Either I’m going loony, or someone just said-
“FERESHTEH!” I turn around and see Mollie and Christina barrelling towards me, with the most excitement I’ve ever seen on a students’ face during exam season. They crash into my table and both start talking at once.
“Have you seen??”
“Did you know??”
“How long have they been together?!”
“Oh my god is this why you won’t tell us about what happened in Kent?!”
“Woah, easy on the interrogation! Seriously, you guys need to work on your interview skills.” I put my hands up in surrender and laugh. Mollie rolls her eyes at me.
“So? Did they tell you or what?” She asks again. I roll my eyes back at her.
“You know I don’t want to tell you guys anything about the boys. They trust me, and I’m not going to fuck that up because of some shit a tabloid prints.”
“How dare you appeal to our morality and ethics, we want gossip dammit!” Christina giggles, lightly banging her fist down on the table.
“Then stick to the Twitter pages.” I stick my tongue out at her. Mollie and Christina are two of my housemates, and are part of the Ark fandom. I never planned on telling them about Kent, but they figured out who I was thanks to the pictures of me and Jimmy on the train. I didn’t think you could tell it was me, but fangirls are like master detectives. They figured it out in less than a week. They haven’t told anyone though, they’re good mates.
“So how are you feeling about all of this? Whether you knew or not, having it out in the press like this is a lot to handle, especially after last time.” Mollie says, now in serious mode.
“It is a lot, definitely, but they’ll be fine. They’ve had this happen before and they know what to expect from the fans. I just wish I could be there for them.” I say, sitting back in my chair.
“I get
that, it must suck that you guys are so far apart now.” Christina chimes in.
“I mean it’s not like we ever lived close to each other before. The only reason we even crossed paths over the summer was because I was staying with a friend. But yeah, being away from them all is kind of hard sometimes.” I sigh dramatically, making Mollie and Christina grin.
“Are you going to visit them over Christmas?” Christina asks.
“I’m definitely going to visit my friend in London again, for a day or two, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to see the boys.” I quickly lie. “They cut back on public events but they’re still really busy most of the time. And this,” I gesture to my phone “definitely won’t help.”
“We’ll keep an eye on fandom updates for you, and try to shut any mentions of Jowan down,” Mollie says, reaching across the table and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. I squeeze hers back and give her a grateful smile. I mostly stopped interacting with the fandom after meeting the boys, reading fanfiction, and discussing theories with other fans just feels weird and creepy to do when the people you’re talking about are your friends. So it’s nice that I have Mollie and Christina looking out for them, and doing what I can’t. Christina has a pretty big following on Tumblr, and Mollie’s a Twitter ace, so I trust them to hold their ground with the fandom.
“Okay, you don’t have to give us any details, but genuinely, what do you think of Lister and Jimmy as a couple? Because I don’t think the fandom could handle a breakup.” Christina says after a while, making me laugh.
“Pfft, yeah I don’t think the boys could handle a breakup, either.” I smile. “But honestly? I think they’ll be good for each other. Lister is good at helping Jimmy relax and step out of his anxiety bubble, and Jimmy can help reign in Lister’s chaotic energy. Plus they’re freaking cute together, I mean just look at this picture!” I finish, gesturing dramatically to my phone again.
“They are so cute!” Mollie nods in agreement. “I’m actually shocked no one thought to ship them together before.”
“That’s the Jowan storm, for you,” Christina adds. “Can’t believe we ever shipped that.”
“So gross.” I shudder at the thought. Suddenly the alarm I’d set this morning went off, making us all jump.
“What’s that?” Mollie asks. I check the screen and practically leap out of my seat.
“Oh shit, my exam starts in 10 minutes!” I say, gathering my stuff up as quickly as I can. I say my goodbyes to Mollie and Christina and start running back across campus to the exam hall.
I make it just in time, much to the invigilator’s chagrin, check my bag in at the desk at the back of the hall, and collapse into my assigned seat. The exam starts, and it’s only when it does that my stomach reminds me that I never actually ate lunch. Shit.
I start to silently scold myself for being so stupid, when my mind starts drifting to the video chat with Jimmy and the others. He and Lister looked so comfortable with each other. Makes sense, they've known each other for so long. But even still, Jimmy looked so much happier once Lister sat down with him, and Lister himself practically seemed at home with Jimmy’s arms wrapped around him. I smile at my exam paper.
I’m so happy for them.
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Text
Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Prologue
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Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out--only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago.  With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her--and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.
Rating: K+
Other Chapters: 1 2 ​3 4 Epilogue
Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns, the ladies on the Discord!  Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Killian Jones took a deep breath, noting the salty tang of the sea breeze.  The scent brought him comfort, a balm to his wounded soul.  Some of his most treasured memories involved holidays to the sea with his mum.  He remembered something his mum said to him on one such holiday ages and ages ago when he was naught but a tiny lad of four or five.
“You feel things so deeply, Killian,” she’d said, stroking his hair.  “When you love, you love with your entire being.  It’s a beautiful thing, and those you love are lucky indeed, but be careful.  There will be heartache in your future, and when you lose someone you love, I fear it will hit you harder than most.”
He’d learned the truth of her statement less than a year later when she had succumbed to a fast moving, particularly virulent form of cancer.  He’d been inconsolable for weeks, unable to understand why his mum had left him.
But life had gone on, and like many children, he’d proven to be resilient, turning to his older brother, his hero, Liam for help and support.  He thanked the gods every day that Liam had never left him--either willingly like his deadbeat father or through death like his mother.
Love was rather rare in Killian’s life.  He’d taken his mother’s words to heart, only giving his heart when he felt it was in safe keeping.
That was, until he met Milah.
She was beautiful, vibrant, full of life--and unfortunately quite married.  Liam had warned him against getting involved with a woman who wasn’t free to give him her heart, but Killian was snared before he even fully understood what was happening.  He had fallen hard and he had fallen fast, and he found he was helpless to resist the gorgeous woman who had captured his heart.
They were happy for a few months, so happy that they’d begun discussing forever.  Milah had sworn she’d leave her husband, that she wanted to be with him.  Killian had begun shopping for rings.
And then, as suddenly as it began, it all went to hell.  She’d come to meet him one night looking as grave and uncomfortable as he’d ever seen her.  
“Killian, I do love you,” she said, “but what we discussed in the past, I think we’ve always known they’re pipe dreams.  Robert’s my husband, the father of my son.  We were meant to be.  I’m sorry, but I have to end this now.  Robert got a new job across the country, and we both think it’s the perfect opportunity for us to make a go at this, to start fresh.  I’m sorry, but this is goodbye.”
It hit him hard, so hard it felt like there was a physical weight on his chest.  How did one pick up the pieces of their heart when it had been shattered into a fine powder?  Liam had tried to be supportive, he really had, but Killian had known it was always on the tip of his tongue to tell Killian “I told you so.”
After a couple months of misery, Killian decided he’d had enough.  He needed a change, even if it was no more than a few weeks’ vacation.  And so he’d packed up and taken the first flight he could arrange from his home in England to the States.  He’d rented a car and simply begun driving, deciding not to stop until he found somewhere that might offer him peace.
He found it in the small, quaintly named seaside town of Storybrooke, Maine.  There was such a magical feel about this berg.  It was a place he could perhaps run into that peace he’d been sadly lacking since…
Killian stopped abruptly as he collided with something, someone in front of him.  He heard a swift, harsh, feminine curse, and looked up to find himself face to face with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen - riotous blonde curls pulled up into a high ponytail, green eyes, currently narrowed in anger, a red leather jacket over a white tank top. Her jeans were so tight to her slim figure they looked painted on.
For a long moment, Killian could do nothing but stare, open-mouthed at the vision before him, so gobsmacked he could barely remember his own name.
The woman growled in frustration as she looked down at the grocery bag she’d dropped upon impact.  “Seriously?” she asked.  “You’re just gonna stand there like an idiot?”
Killian shook his head as he came back to himself, his cheeks reddening at his rudeness.  “My apologies, love,” he said, stooping down to gather up the spilled contents of her bag.  “It appears I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
“You think?” she retorted with a roll of her eyes.  
For a moment the two worked together while Killian desperately wracked his addled brain for something--anything--to say that might allow him to remain in this woman’s presence longer, but he was coming up blank.
“Well….thanks for your help,” she said finally, when the groceries were back in their bag.
“Thanks for letting me help,” he replied rather lamely.
“Yeah, well maybe next time you might pay a little more attention and avoid this kind of situation altogether,” she suggested as she pushed past him and quickly disappeared from his sight.
She might have disappeared from his sight, but she most assuredly did not disappear from his mind.  Thoughts of the beautiful blonde followed him through the streets of Storybrooke as he made his way closer and closer to the beach.
So consumed was he with his chance encounter that he didn’t even realize he’d wandered into a seedy part of town until he heard the sounds around him.
The sounds of an altercation.
Killian looked up to see several big, burly men brutally beating a man with black hair and blue eyes.  The man fought valiantly, but it was at least six to one.  He didn’t stand a chance.  Killian fished his cell phone from his pocket, intending to call the authorities, get some help, but he knew the victim before him didn’t have time to wait for police to arrive.
Killian had to intervene.
He charged into the fray, pulling first one, and then another ruffian from the man being beaten, but his efforts seemed to have no effect on the attackers.
No effect, that is, save to divert some of their wrath toward him.  Killian grunted as the first blow landed on the side of his head, and he dropped his phone to the ground.  He fought back with everything in him, pleased to note he’d gotten in a fair few punches of his own, but it soon became obvious that he was hopelessly outmanned.
Sometimes retreat was one’s only option.
Killian turned, hoping to find help for himself and for the other victim, but he’d only made it a few steps when he felt a sharp pain to the back of his head...and then everything went black.
 Notes:
--Hi there and welcome to my story for the 2021 CSSNS!  This story was kind of inspired by an experience I had.  Most of the time if I get a phone call from a number I don’t recognize, I just let it go to voicemail, figuring if they really want to talk to me, they’ll leave a message (and if they’re a telemarketer...they won’t).  One day I got a message from an unknown number, and they did leave a message.  The message was basically nothing but dead air.  For some reason, I decided to try to find out who the number belonged to, and I came to find out the number belonged to someone who had died six months ago.  Now logically, that probably means someone else has the dead guy’s cell phone now, but it brought up the possibility of a new story.  What if Emma got a phone call from Killian Jones, who she finds out died several months ago...and it isn’t a mistake?  Thus this story was born.
--This story has 4 chapters plus this prologue and epilogue, and the good thing is that it’s already completely written.  This means I can set (and stick to) a posting schedule!  I plan to update this story every Wednesday and Sunday until it’s finished.
--Up next:  Emma gets a strange phone call from an unknown number.  What she finds out about it leads her on a journey that will completely change her life.
                                                                                       Next Chapter-->
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starrynite7114 · 4 years
Text
wrapping (angel reyes)
A/N: Three days till Christmas! How were finals for you all? Christmas shopping all done? I just have two more people on my list and I should be good to go. This year has been tolling, but I’m glad it is almost over. I wanted to let you all know that you’ve made this extremely difficult year so much more bearable. I hope I was able to help some especially with quarantine and all. It’s been tolling on us all but I want to let you all know that we’ve got this and you’re not alone. Please don’t ever hesitate to message me for anything, silly jokes, conversations, etc. 
I’m going to post mostly holiday stories till after Christmas. I will update Roommates and the EZ request will be posted! I know I don’t update as quick as I should, but I’m trying! <3
Hope you all enjoy this story!
Shoutout: This is for @blackmissfrizzle​! I still owe her one more for her birthday, but we were shooting the shit as we always do, being one another’s second brain and this idea popped up as I was struggling with wrapping Christmas presents. To my second brain, I love you, do not know how we got as close as we did, I am forever thankful. You are evil, but I love nonetheless. 
Groupchat for updates! Please join since the tags could be a bit iffy at times!
If you would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know! My tag list is a little messy, but please let me know if you want to be added!
Masterlist
Word count: 2171
Warnings: Fluff, mild sexual situation (hand job, fingering), Does Angel count as a warning?
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CREDITS TO THE ORIGINAL GIF MAKER!
“Angel, stop,” you groaned as you felt Angel leave another mark on your skin. 
He smirked against your skin, placing a kiss on the spot he just bit. “What?” His voice sounded gravely, you two had just woken up. 
“Did you not leave enough bites last night?” Well, this morning, but it counted as last night since you two started last night.
“Can never get enough bites in baby.” He chuckled. 
Turning you to face him, Angel kissed you. It started with a few pecks, before he slipped his tongue in, slow and sensual as always. He moved on top of you, your lips never parting, intertwining your hands beside your head. 
“Te quiero mucho mi vida,” Angel whispered against your lips before he slipped his tongue inside your mouth again. You felt his hardened member against your leg. Reaching down to wrap your hand around his hardened member, you moved your hand up and down his cock causing Angel to groan. “Fuck baby, just like that. Can’t wait to be buried inside you again.” He ran his fingers up and down your folds, slipping his fingers inside.
You moaned, widening your legs. Angel removed your hand from his cock, moving so he can slide inside you. Just as he was about to, his phone rang, making Angel groan. He buried his face at the crook of your neck as he grabbed his phone.
“What’s up?” He answered. “Yeah, I’ll be there in twenty.” He hung up, placing his phone on the bedside drawer. “You think we can get a quickie done in ten minutes?”
You laughed and pushed away from Angel. “Have you met you? There’s no way baby.” You slipped on your discarded panties and his shirt. “I’ll see you in the kitchen.” 
Preparing a quick breakfast for Angel, you made coffee just like how he liked it, with no sweetener or anything. You were cooking some eggs, bacon and a patty for his sandwich. 
“Only psycho’s drink their coffee black.” You commented, shaking your head. 
“I’m your psychopath though.” Angel grabbed the coffee cup and dropped a kiss on your lips. “Besides, that's how pops drink it.” He took a sip, the bitterness was not something he could get used to, but it woke him up. “What you got planned today?”
“I have to finish up some christmas shopping, but otherwise, I have to wrap presents.” 
Angel almost choked on his coffee and tried his best not to laugh. “Baby, we have a deal. You shop, I wrap. It’s better this way.” 
“Yes, but we made a deal yesterday remember?” You pouted, wrapping your arms around Angel.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Hard to forget baby, especially when your lips were wrapped around my dick.” 
“You’re too much sometimes, you know that?”
“Ain’t no shame baby.”
You laughed. “Of course not, why would you?” You handed him the quick breakfast sandwich you made. “You’ve been busy with the club, I got this.”
Angel doubted that, but he loves you and he supported you no matter what you wanted to do. “If you need me, I’m a call away.”
“Are you going across the border today?”
“No, just templo and a shift at the yard. Then I’m all yours. We still doing a movie marathon?” Angel scruffed down the sandwich you made for him as he waited for your answer.
“Yes, are Coco, Letty and Gilly still coming over?”
“Baby, we’ve had them over the last three nights, we can enjoy one night to ourselves.” Angel drank the rest of his coffee and threw the paper towel that once held his sandwich. “I’ll cook dinner and you pick the movies.”
“Cook? Baby, you can’t cook.” 
“Alright, I’ll order take out and I can fuck you on the kitchen table while we wait.”
“Angel!” You threw a piece of bread at him which he caught and ate. 
He laughed and kissed you again. “Okay, we can fuck in bed whichever one, regardless, that ass is mine tonight. Te queiro.”
“Love you too.” 
Wrapping presents shouldn’t be hard.
But there was no shame of paying professionals to do it either.
This year, you promised yourself that you would wrap the Christmas presents. That for once, you could wrap the presents and learn how to do it.
God bless YouTube University.
You watched videos, practiced with various items so when the time came, you could wrap the presents. 
The time came and yet again, it was a fail.
You looked at the Christmas wrappers scattered on your living room floor as you wrapped one of Angel’s several gifts. You and Angel have been dating for three years now and he knew your peril with wrapping gifts. So every Christmas the tasks were always the same. You bought the gifts, Angel wrapped the presents. But with the club being busier this year, you told your boyfriend that you had everything handled. He gave you a look, but you assured him with a smile and a blowjob. 
You had your tongue sticking out at the side of your mouth, taping the Christmas wrapper together and yet again, you didn’t measure correctly and it was disproportionate. 
“This is hopeless. How is Angel so good at this?” You laid your forehead against the coffee table in front of you. With every failed attempt, the more you regretted not going to the mall and had the professionals wrap your presents. But you had to push through. This Christmas was all you and you didn’t want Angel to lift a finger. 
You continued to wrap presents, adding strips of wrapping paper for certain presents that you didn’t measure out correctly. The presents didn’t look bad necessarily, but you just wished they looked better.
You placed all of Angel’s presents under the Christmas tree and went to get the rest of the presents you have yet to wrap. You had at least ten more presents to wrap and it was slightly becoming daunting for you. Presents shouldn’t be hard to wrap and honestly, you were using the mall gift wrappers next year. You went into the kitchen to grab a drink of water and finish the rest of these presents. Looking at your watch, it was fifteen minutes to six. Angel should be home in an hour or so. 
Sitting back down with your hot chocolate instead of water, you placed Coco’s present on the coffee table to begin wrapping it. As you were busying yourself with that, Angel came in through the backdoor wanting to surprise you. He left his bike at the clubhouse since Bishop gave him the day off tomorrow. EZ had dropped him off so that he could surprise you. He had the takeout in one hand and your favorite cheesecake from the bakery down the street from the clubhouse. 
He placed the food in the kitchen and quietly made his way to the living room where he knew you would be. He heard a train of expletives come out from your mouth and he had to hold back laughter. Peeking into the living room, he saw you with various pieces of christmas wrappers around you, highly concentrated on wrapping a gift on the coffee table. You were trying to fold the top of the present, looking at the gift before you with frustration. 
“Cut the top so you can fold it better,” he heard you tell yourself. “Okay, how do I know how much to cut?” You let out a groan. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to the mall tomorrow and have the experts do it.” 
“Or you can just let me do it like we always do.”
You yelled, your hot chocolate spilling all over you. “Angel!”
“Baby!” He quickly made his way over to you with paper towels, handing it to you. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know, what the hell, I didn’t even hear your bike.” 
“EZ dropped me off, wanted to surprise you.” Angel took off your shirt. “You should change.”
“Yeah? You think?” You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing him. 
You took a quick shower and came back out, finding Angel wrapping the rest of the presents. You sat beside him and he had hot chocolate waiting for you. “How are you so good at wrapping presents? You literally wrapped five in twenty minutes.” 
Angel shrugged. “My mom and I used to wrap presents for the whole family. It was our thing up till she passed.” 
You gave him a small smile and wrapped your hand around his. “So it was tradition?”
“Of some sorts, I would help her with wrapping the presents and she would tell me all these stories about my tio’s and tia’s, about her and my father.” Angel smiled fondly of the memories he shared with his mother. No one could wrap presents with them, it was for him and her, their bonding time. He continued to wrap presents every once in a while, but he didn’t do it traditionally like before, till he met you.
“Maybe we can start our own tradition? You can teach me how to wrap presents and this could be our thing.” You paused. You shouldn’t have said that, the last thing you wanted to do was impose on Angel’s memories of his mother. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” 
“No, it’s okay.” Angel turned to you and kissed your cheek. “I haven’t done this since my mom passed, it's nice to share this tradition with the most important person in my life.” 
You felt the tears well up in your eyes, Angel’s words making your heart swell. “I love you.”
“I love you more baby.” He smiled. His smile was so warm. You knew he was a tough guy, but when he was with you, he didn’t need to have to hide behind that exterior. “Do me a favor, can you grab the gift I got for pops? It’s in the drawer on my side of the bed.”
“Sure.”
You did as he asked and brought the gift over to him. It was in a velvet box and you couldn’t help but think what it could possibly be? Felipe hardly wore jewelry, but made Angel got home some to commemorate Marisol.
“Here babe.” You offered the box to him.
Angel took it and thanked you. The nerves began to set in for him, but he had to do it, he had this. 
Taking a deep breath, he turned to face you and you were standing, watching the baking show you had on before he came. He wasn’t sure when it clicked for him exactly, but a year ago, during the holiday season, he came to your apartment and found you watching some cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies and Letty was with you. You had looked up at him and smiled, patting the seat beside you. He realized then that he wanted to have this every holiday, every day for the rest of his life. 
He wanted to come home to a home you two shared with your kids surrounding you. 
He wanted to come home to you during a hard day and just be enveloped in your warmth.
He wanted to make new traditions with you and do it every year just as he did with his family.
You were his family now.
“Y/N,” he softly called out your name.
“Yeah baby?” You turned to face Angel and found him on one knee with the velvet box opened, showing you a beautiful diamond ring.
“When we first met, I never thought we would get this far. If anything, I thought you would come to your senses and not give me a second or third date, but you have no idea how happy I was you did. I hardly ever win, but in hindsight it doesn’t matter since my biggest victory is you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and make new traditions with you.” You began to cry along with Angel as he took your hand. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I love you, and there’s no one else I rather watch cheesy Hallmark movies with than you.”
You managed to laugh between your tears and nodded your head. “Yes, I will marry you.”
Angel smiled brightly as he took the ring off and slipped it in your finger. He stood up and kissed you, wrapping his arms around you. 
Pulling away, you looked at your ring and kissed him again. Life was hardly perfect with Angel, but you didn’t want that. You want all the imperfections you two had because at the end of the day, much like your divided task with Christmas, you two completed one another. Where one lacked, the other picked up.
And that’s what it was all about. You bettered one another.
Angel was your better half. 
No questions about it.
“We really gotta teach you how to wrap mami, cause I can’t wrap every damn present.”
You laughed. “We better get started then.”
=================
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spencessmile · 4 years
Text
Mi Amour
Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 
Summary - Spencer finds out what Valentine's day actually means to you. 
Warnings - Slight mentions of death, but mostly fluff. 
Word Count - 1,791
And all imagines/fanfics/blurbs are written solely by me so please don't steal my work and/or post it without my consent. Feedback and Comments are welcome. Happy reading! 
A/N - HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!! I LOVE YOU GUYS!! 
Requests are CLOSED!
** 
“Spencer!” You kicked the door with your foot, “Come on, I can’t feel my damn arms,” You were juggling 4 bags of food on one arm as the other held enough alcohol to serve 100 people. “Spen-” The door flew open, revealing Spencer as he fixed his hair. “Help me!” You shoved past him, handing him the alcohol. You set down the food on the table, pulling out the chair and having a seat. 
“We could have just ordered this stuff, you know?” 
“We could have but I haven’t left my apartment in four days and I needed some fresh air.” 
“How much food did you buy?” 
“Oh, you’ll probably have loads of leftovers. Like Papa Rossi always says more food is better than less food.” 
“Did you happen to go to the grocery store and buy -” 
“Double stuffed Oreos and whipped cream? Yeah, the first thing I crossed off my list.” 
“You’re the best,” He beamed, skimming through the bags. 
“Oh,” You chuckle. “I know.” 
“How were the grocery stores?” He asked.
You shake your head as Spencer looks at you in amusement “Everyone is so giddy and full of fluff.” 
“Fluff?” Spencer laughed at your choice of word. 
“Yeah, holding hands, kissing in public, smiling with their teeth, being extra freaking nice, buying all the damn chocolate and different colored flowers in the world. Don’t even get me started on the damn stuffed teddy bears.” 
“Who did you buy these for?” He pulls a nice yellow bouquet out of the bag alongside a vase. 
“For you.” 
“Why?” 
“Because you need some colour in your life besides this were half off and I felt so ridiculous standing in that damn aisle. So, make sure they live longer than a week.” 
“On it,” You watched Spencer fill the case with water, adding the flower food, mixing it up, cutting off the ends of the stems, adding the flowers in the vase as he placed it in the middle of his small dining table. 
“Mmm,” Spencer stood behind your chair. “They do look nice.” 
“Yeah, they do.” You nod. 
“Did you bring the movies?” 
“Oh yes!” You reach for the bag on the far end. “It’s Disney night.” 
“101 Dalmatians, Aladdin, Alice in Wonderland, Bambi and Bambi II, Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, Dumbo, Finding Dory, Finding Nemo, Lion King, and Coco,” Spencer reads out all the movies. 
“Just some of my favorites.” 
“These are just some?” Spencer raises his eyebrow at you.
“Disney and Disney Pixar have the best movies. Hands down. Don’t even argue with me on this.” Spencer nods, “Listen, I could have rented out the whole shelf at the shop but I controlled myself.” 
“I bet.” He nods. “Alright, which one should we watch first?” 
“I picked last time so your turn,” You watched Spencer flip through the movies until he landed on Coco. 
“I’ve never watched this one,” You looked at him shocked. “What?” 
“Oh my god, where do you keep your tissues?” 
“What why?” 
“Trust me, you're going to need them. You're going to need lots of them.” 
** 
Spencer and you sat on the couch, after watching the movie, boxes of sushi in both of your laps, eating in comfortable silence. You could feel Spencer’s eyes on every once in a while. 
“What is it, Spencer?” You asked. 
Spencer set down his drink and rubbing his neck. “Can I ask you a question?” 
“Shoot,” You replied. 
“Why don't you like Valentine’s day?” 
You had a feeling that Spencer would ask this question but you weren’t quite sure how you were going to answer it without breaking down, you didn't expect yourself to. 
“You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to but I just always wondered. I’ve known you for 6 years and every year we do the same thing. You come over to my house with way too much food and alcohol. We sit here together and watch movies.”
“Are you saying that you don’t like my company?” You pretended to play hurt, just to pull Spencer’s leg. He immediately set down his sushi box and faced you. 
“N-No. That n-not what I meant. I didn-t mean to hu-hurt your feelin-” You laughed at how quick he panicked at your words. “Why are you laughing?” 
“No reason,” You set aside your box, grabbing your wine glass and settling down on the sofa again. "When I was younger my mom would love celebrating Valentine's day and she would celebrate it with everyone, not just my dad. I would wake up to the smell of bacon, pancakes, her famous buttery and cheese eggs, and cherry pie. My siblings and I would help her set up the table. Once everything used to be set, we'd make our way to their room and wake up my dad. We'd have a tickle war and jus-" You feel the tears pressing as you take a deep breath before continuing. "I remember laying there for several minutes, taking in the comfortable and peaceful silence of our little family. We'd have breakfast, play games, and simply spent the day with one another. We did the tradition every year growing up. When I was young, I asked my mom why she always celebrated Valentine's with us and never just our dad and she said 'Valentine's day isn't meant to be spent with just one person you love, it's meant to be shared with everyone you love. That there is always enough love within you to want to share it with others.' I mean, they could have dropped my siblings and me off at my grandma's and left to celebrate the day on their own, but she never did. She always chose to include us." 
Spencer was intently listening as you continued. "Every year I used to look forward to this stupid day, but one morning I woke up and my life changed forever." Spencer grabbed onto your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I was at my grandmother's the night before Valentine's, my parents and siblings were coming to pick me up but when I woke up in the morning I remember my grandma looking at me and without her saying anything, I just knew. It has never been the same since then." 
"Y/n," Spencer moved closer. "First off, I'm sorry about your family," You nod, you never once mentioned them to anyone on the team, it was far too painful for you. "Secondly, even though you're not going to believe me, what happened to your family isn't your fault." 
"Isn't it?" 
"No," Spencer shakes his head as the tears come streaming down your face. 
"They still would have been alive Spencer! If it weren't for me, they'd still be here. They'd be here with me, today. I would have been at home but now I don-" Spencer wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back. You stay like for a minute before pulling back. "Sorry, I did-" 
"You don't have to apologize." 
"The following year on this day I remember being so upset because I woke up to nothing. It was just quiet. I felt so empty and it just hurt so much. I just hated the fact that the one day that bought us together as a family was the same day that ripped them away from my hands. Ever since then, I've had this love-hate relationship with this day." 
Even after all these years of you convincing yourself that what happened to your family wasn't your fault, you couldn't help but think it was your fault. If they weren't on the road that morning, then you'd still have them. 
"I sulked around every year on Valentine's day until one day, I realized that my mom would have been so upset to see me doing that. She always celebrated that day with music, food, movies, and love. So, I decided to celebrate it just like she would have. Before I joined the team, I used to go out buy loads of takeout, grab a couple of my parent's favorite red wine bottles," You raise your glass. "I'd play our favorite music, watch the same movies we'd watch together, and stuff my face with food. It sort of became my tradition, my thing." 
Spencer's inside exploded as he noticed your smile getting bigger as you talked about your family. "I like that." 
"What?" 
"That you kept the tradition alive." 
"Me too." You beamed. 
"But why did you decided to share your sole tradition with me?" 
"I know that you and your mom probably spent loads of holidays and special days together up until you had to make the tough decision to put her in a care home. After that you probably didn't spend many special days with her," Spencer remains silent at your words. "So I took it upon myself to share the love with you because if my parents knew you, they'd love you. Even though it was rarely said I knew that my parents and sibling loved me a lot, so I decided to share some of that love with you because god Spencer, you deserve it." 
Spencer's heart was bursting at your words, he never heard anyone say anything sweeter. "Thank you." 
"For what?" 
"For sharing your love with me," You smiled.
"They're proud of you, you know that?" 
"I hope," You chuckle. 
"They should be because they raised one hell of a human being. Going through what you did and still having love to share, that's a difficult thing to do." 
"Yeah, I guess." 
"Let's toast," Spencer raised his glass. 
"To what?" 
"You shared your love with me so now I'm going to share my love with you," You looked at Spencer confused, he put down both glasses and leaned forward, your faces inches away from one another. He rubbed the tip of his nose with yours, giving you enough time to pull away, but you don't, instead, you wrap your hands around his neck. Soon after, his lips clash with yours as he pulls you closer. You wrap your legs around his waist. Pulling back you rest your forehead against his, "What was that?" Your heart was racing, eyes a little blurry as your mind was a little fuzzy from the wine. 
"Just sharing the love, mi amour." 
** 
All you have to do now, is listen to your soul - Seeker
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Text
Last Chance Prompt Fest
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Today is the day that our Last Chance Prompt Fest starts.
To take part, you don’t need to claim a prompt through us at all, you just find a prompt you like, create what you want to create and then tag us @the-ce-horniest-book-club​ and use the hashtag “CE HBC Last Chance Prompt Fest”. You can also DM your link to us to ensure we see it.
The event starts today, Friday, August 27th and ends next Friday, September 3, 2021.
Once the event has ended, we will answer the ask for the prompts that received creations. We will also have a masterlist for everything created as well.
Who can we create for?
You can create stuff for Steve Rogers, Chris Evans or any of Chris’s 18+ characters.
What can we create?
While the CE HBC is primarily a writing community, these events are to encourage creators of all types. So for this event, you can write, make moodboards, create a playlist, make a video or whatever you are inspired to create based on the prompts under the keep reading.
All of the prompts are listed below the cut and it does not matter how many things are created for each prompt.
Chris Evans Prompts
Could you do one with chris where the reader is eating something delicious and Chris hears them and tries to distract them with smutty things but the reader picks the treat over Chris. (Just had yams that tasted like my grandma used to make years ago, and I’ll pick that over Chris right now lol)
It’s hot AF where I live and we all know Chris doesn’t like the hot temps… so maybe something about trying to beat the heat
How many rounds was that? Four? God, we’re about to break our own record. With Chris? 😍
That’s a lot of sass for someone who ruined my sheets and still hasn’t apologized. With Chris?
Prompt: being friends with Chris and helping and supporting him with ASP too. When the news hit that Biden won your together and after squealing, he just grabs and kisses you.
Chris Evans brushing his heavily pregnant wife’s hair
Chris introducing you to his family for the first time
Readers reaction when Chris has to shave off his beard for a role and doesn’t tell her?
Hey i had an idea. she faked her orgasm because she has trouble cum.  Chris finds out and is angry because she hasn’t said anything and doubts his abilities?  then he brings her to orgasm
Chris playing Christmas songs on the piano while you wrap presents or something where he keeps you company while you’re doing something else
Ari Levinson Prompts
Cowboy Ari Levinson helping you out after he finds you on his ranch
Curtis Everett Prompts
Trying to have quiet sex with Curtis behind a curtain.
Frank Adler Prompts
Frank Adler gets a new neighbor - reader who is just as intelligent as his family and they like each other right away.
Nick Vaughn Prompts
Nick Vaughan keeping you company on the streets of New York
Steve Rogers Prompts
“I’m your Captain and you follow my orders!” “Aye, aye Cap’n!” “I said Captain, not pirate.”
“Hey Steve, what does a deaf gynecologist do?” “I don’t know.” “He reads lips.”
How about a drunk drabble based off of Right Girl Wrong Time by Jon Langston with Steve and Peggy
someone should write a steve and bucky threesome with a reader
“Yeah sex is great but have you just ever wanted to rub yourself over that fucking beard of Steve’s?”
I have a prompt for you. Steve has fallen in love with the Motown sound since Sam has played most of the genre for him. He has gone shopping, or gone for coffee and he hears you sing a song from the Supremes and is instantly intrigued. Have fun seducing him with music. https://youtu.be/HXGz8i0I2L0
It’s the first Christmas Steve has spent with y/n
Reader making Steve a heart cake for Valentine’s Day ❤️
Multiple Options Prompts
Can I get the following prompt with Steve, Colin, or Jensen? “In ancient Greece, throwing an apple was done to declare one’s love.” “How do I love thee, let me count the ways? Thump, thump, thump.” “So the mild concussion means you love me?”
Could I get “I see that you have your legal name listed as Y/n’s Daddy. That’s incorrect. You’re legal name is what’s on your Drivers Licence.” With any of Chris’ characters please?
SFW Prompts
For Chris or one of his characters, there is only one bed and they got to sleep far apart but wake up cuddling. Bonus points if they don’t hate it.
“Just tell why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay?!”
How about they’re roommates and “just friends” who develop feelings for each other
“You always say that, but I’d only see you for a day or two until you have to fly out again.”
“You don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want. I just thought you should know.”
i have been in love with you, dumbass
“If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”
I have these… powers raging around inside me, and I have no clue how to control them.
“Hey, it’s cold. Light a fire or something. I swear, you’re a cold blooded reptile.”
that guy in the gorilla costume has been following us for the past ten blocks.
going to a masquerade ball
“So, you’re the unfortunate soul stuck with me.”
“I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.”
“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”
“What’s with the box?”
“I’m not jealous.”
“It’s not like I love you or anything.”
Merlin quote prompt: Nobility is defined by what you do, not by who you are
“Why do you keep pushing me away? I know you love me.”
“I want to go home.” “And I want to go to the moon. It ain’t happening sweetheart. Time to accept that.”
“I just want you to know I love you and I hope these roses prove that to you.”
Prompt: “if you steal all the blankets I’m going to put my cold feet on you.”
“What have we here? Bed: unslept in. Hair in… missionary disarray. And yesterday’s dress with today’s shame all over it.” Gossip Girl
Every time I’m in the same room with her, I can’t decide if I want to pick a fight with her or push her up against a wall and kiss the fuck out of her. - Falling for My Enemy by Claire Kingsley
“The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.”
NSFW Prompts
“Wet pussy is the best. I can’t get enough of the juices dripping from my mouth.”
“She beauty, she grace, I want her pussy on my face.”
“Sheathing my cock inside you feels like a jam donut being torn in half. Delicious and mind blowing.”
Twist on quarantine haircuts: couple helping each other with pubic hair maintenance
“I don’t know if you’re looking for Aztek gold down there, but if you don’t hurry up and fuck my brains out I’ll do it my damn self!”
“Have you ever noticed how eating a hot dog is similar to giving deepthroat?” “No but thanks, I don’t want to eat this now.”
Babe I can’t sleep. I know you just woke me up. Wanna fuck? I’m awake!!!
“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to but I’m about to punish that sassy mouth!”
“I love your longish hair baby. Finally got something to pull while you’re between my legs devouring me.”
Holiday Prompts
“Great, now I have to re-hide your Christmas gifts.”
“I’m not going to kiss you under the mistletoe.”
“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.”
“What are you doing?” “Hiding from carolers.”
“Santa’s handwriting looks suspiciously like yours.”
“Why does the house smell like a cinnamon roll threw up?”
“Are you Santa? Because I’d sit on your lap.”
“YES I BOOBY TRAPPED THE PRESENTS BECAUSE YOU DO THIS EVERY FUCKING YEAR”
“What the hell kind of Charlie Brown Christmas tree did you buy?”
“It looks like the North Pole threw up.”
i may or may not have gotten tangled up in the tinsel.
“If we don’t have this damn tree up before the end of the night, I’m going to kill you.”
“I’m going to tell Santa to give you coal.”
“It’s an advent calendar. You’re supposed to open one square a day, not eat half the chocolate in a sitting.”
“Why is there mistletoe in every room of the apartment?”
I got a little too drunk off of egg nog and vodka and you look so pretty in this light, and I most definitely want to kiss you right now, best friends or not.
we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party.
Dad!chris (or one of his characters) and his kids at Christmas
“You’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?”
Spending your first Valentine’s Day together with any character
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oddsnendsfanfics · 4 years
Text
It’s the Best Time of The Year
Genre: Fan Fiction (Night Hunter) Pairing: Lt Walter Marshall /Reader Warnings: Pure Fluff! Get your sweet tooth ready! Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  
A/N: A little fluffy, okay a lot of fluffy, Christmas-ish Walter. 
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Henry Cavill Master List
From outside the house, Walter could hear Holly Jolly Christmas blaring throughout, unlocking the door and trudging inside he kicked the snow off his boots before leaving them on the mat beside the front door. Typically, this would lead to him lecturing you about being aware of your surroundings. Anybody could break in and...he stopped seeing you and his daughter attempting to waltz through the kitchen.
Racks of cookies were littering the counter tops, various sized boxes took up what cookies didn't. Squares, pies, and handmade chocolates took up even more space on the table, spilling into the dining room. Someone had been busy. Blissfully unaware of his presence, you and Faye continued to laugh and dance. Aprons and cheeks covered in flour. Faye's dark hair had splatters of red icing here and there.
Foregoing the lecture, Walter gave in – this once. Watching for a few more seconds before clearing his throat to alert you of his presence.
“Walt!” You exclaim letting go of Faye, the two of you giggling like crazy, “You're home early.” You rush to give him a quick peck.
“Harper forced me out.” His laugh is soft and deep. Eyeing you and his daughter, he raises his brow. “Did I interrupt, ladies?”
“Not at all. We were working on dinner, while finishing up some baking.” You answer happily, smiling wide. The music continues to play, at a lower level, thanks to Faye.
“Hey dad.” The teenager hugs her father tightly. Kissing the top of her head, Walter takes a deep breath resting his chin there for a moment. “So, off early. Did Hell freeze over?”
“Language.” Walter mumbles, nudging her. “And no. I am home early, because I have decided to take a few days off. Harper decided I should start early. Come home and enjoy the chaos.”
“Excuse me?” Faye is wide eyed. “Did I hear that right? You, my father, Walter Marshall, are taking a few days off? Dad, are you dying?”
“No,” Chuckling Walter shakes his head. Sliding his arm around you, he pulls you closer. “I had some time to use and decided to spend Christmas home. Is that a big deal?”
Giggling, you wink at Faye indicating that there is more to this story than her father is telling her. Tapping her foot on the tiled floor, Faye wrinkles her nose. She's not buying it. No where in her memory, did she recall her father taking time off.
“Uh huh. Right, okay.” Rolling her eyes she scoffs.
“Why is that so hard to believe?” Walter glances at you.
“Because you never take time off. Ever.” You answer for Faye.
When Walter had told you that he wanted to take Christmas off, it was startling. He rarely took time off and always worked the holidays. Faye would stay with her mother, while Walter practically lived in his office. “Crime doesn't take Christmas off.” He would fuss. In the four years that you had known Walter, two that you were together, he hardly took time off for anything.  Upon further discovery, it seemed nobody could remember the last time the Detective took more than a day off. A whole week off, including Christmas, this really was some sort of Christmas Miracle.
“Which is why I have decided to take the time. Is it a crime that I want Christmas with my family?”
“No.” Faye shrugged. Stirring the sauce in the pot, Faye sighed. She was not buying whatever her father was selling.
“Why don't you run up, get changed, and we will have dinner nearly ready by then.” You gently pat Walter's chest, giving him another quick kiss. “Go, we can marvel at the impossible when you come back down.” Not missing the chance to tease him.
Shaking his head and muttering about what terrible influences you and Faye were on one another, Walter returned the kiss, before turning on his heel and heading to change out of his office attire. Downstairs you and Faye had reverted back to your antics, tossing a piece of lettuce at her you laughed when she smacked you with the salad spoon. Walter would pretend to ignore it, but you knew that he enjoyed the chaos. He especially loved that you and Faye got on so well.
He would tell you every time she came over, how much he loved that she had decided to love you as much as he did. It was pretty hard not to love her back. When you had started dating Walter, you knew he had a daughter, and an ex-wife. Both, who at times, gave him grief. You had quickly worked out that it wasn't in a malicious intent, they simply worried about him. Especially Faye.
“My god that smells fantastic,” Walter commented walking through the house to rejoin his family.
“Faye made it,” You beamed with pride, arms wrapping around Walter's torso. You loved how warm he always was. Even more so since the winter had once again came. Snuggling into his side, you felt him relax while you watched Faye finish dinner.
“And who made all these?” He gestured to the baking.
“It was a joint effort.” Looking over her shoulder from the stove, Faye answered with a smile. “We're taking some down to the station tomorrow.”
“They will love that,” Walter smiled softly.
“Since you're off for vacation, we could use the extra pair of hands.” Faye winked, sticking out her tongue. “Or if we take you to work, will you end up staying, because crime doesn't take Christmas off.” She did her best impression of her father. You couldn't help but snort a little.
“Hush, you.” Walter bumped you with his hip. “I can go to work and not work.”
“Oh really?” Faye challenged. “Why did you all of a sudden decide to take time off, anyway?”
“Well,” Walter cleared his throat, leaning over you to reach for a snowflake shaped cookie, “I wanted to take some time to celebrate.”
“Should we tell her?” You ask watching Faye's expression. Confusion growing.
“Think she can handle it?” Walter teased.
“Yes!” Faye urged, bouncing on her feet. “Yes, tell me!”
The suspense was going to kill her. There were a million things in her mind. Whatever her imagination was telling her, you could only hope this was going to be as good. Faye was a good kid, you had worked hard all afternoon, worrying that you would let the cat out of the bag. Walter would have been fine with you sharing the surprise, but you wanted him to be there, too.
“Okay, but I want you to know that this changes nothing. I am still going to love you and...”
“Oh my GOD!” Shouting and squealing, Faye waved her hands excitedly. “You're pregnant!”
Wide eyed Walter nearly choked on the second cookie he had swiped. Laughing, you can feel his heart racing like a damn cheetah. Her face was priceless, but it was time to break her poor little heart.
“Uh, no.” You pout and shrug. “No brothers or sisters, yet.”
“Okay, so then what...”
“We're getting married.” Walter announced, unceremoniously. His eyes bright and his smile infectious.
“Dad!” Faye exclaimed, her hands wildly waving in excitement. “You were supposed to let me help you. Holy shit, how bad did he screw this up? Where's your ring? He did buy a ring, right? I told him about the...”
“Faye,” Walter's tone was stern.
“He didn't screw it up, at all.” You pat his chest, beaming. “And there is a ring, but it had to be sized. I'll have it back next week, but I have pictures.”
“Oh my god, I NEED to see them!” Shouting happily, Faye forgot about the dinner she was making. “Let me see! I need to see it! Dad! This is amazing!” tears in her eyes she hugged Walter's neck tightly.
Hugging his daughter, tight, Walter felt a wave of relief. He had assumed that Faye would take the news well, but one could never be too sure in these situations. Letting go of his neck, Faye wiped her eyes quick, before attacking you in her next hug.
Excitedly squealing as she loosened her grip, Faye paused. “Who else knows?”
“Us, you. We wanted to tell you first.” Walter spoke, as he took over dinner.
“How long have you...”
“Four days,” You wipe your own tears. “Oh my god, Faye. It was so perfect and so unexpected. Your old man has charm.” You giggle like a teenager. “I was getting ready for work...”
“You asked her while she was getting ready for work? Dad,” Faye rolled her eyes at him.
Walter shrugged it off. Whatever, you'd said “yes” that was good enough for him.
You had been upstairs in your bathroom, getting ready for work, when you'd walked out to Walter in the hall way. Kissing you, he took a step back, revealing the black box in the palm of his hand. No words. No grand gesture. But you knew exactly what he was asking. Tears, blurring your vision you allowed him to open the box and slide the slightly larger than needed ring on your left hand.
“It was so cute, though.” You defend your fiancé – You can't help but mull the word over. It feels so...odd to think of Walter in such terms.
“Dinner,” Walter announced turning off the gas on the stove. Not that it mattered, the two of you were still talking about how he had proposed and the things you loved, verses what Faye would have had him do differently. Whatever. You two would eat when you were good and ready.
“This is so amazing! This is going to be perfect. Can I come dress shopping with you?”
“I would hope my maid of honour wants to come dress shopping.” Catching Walter's eye, you winked.
“Really? I don't know...wow.” Breathing deeply to steady herself, Faye shook with delight. “Really? You want me?”
“Yes, silly!” You exclaim, hugging her again. Oh god it felt so good to tell Faye the news. Your head would have exploded if you'd had to keep this quiet any longer.
Grabbing your hand, Faye linked her fingers with yours, the two of you twirling around laughing and chattering about weddings. Walter was comfortable to lean against the counter watching the two of you dance around like fools. Dinner would keep, he could heat it in the microwave later. Dancing and singing to It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas, you broke away from Faye, dancing over to Walter.
“May I have this dance?” You wink, pulling his arm.
Unfolding his arms, he allowed you to take his hand. Expertly twirling you around, Walter smiled when Faye whistled. Who knew her dad could dance? Moving you back to him, Walter held you against his chest gently swaying to the time of the music. He had spent a few nights this week dancing happily around the kitchen, living room, hell even the bathroom with you. It was silly, but Walter was beginning to enjoy the laid back approach to life.
“Faye,” Walter furrowed his brow, sighing. Pretending to grump as she recorded the two of you.
“What? You two are adorable. Dad, when did you get those moves?”
“I happen to be a fine dancer,” Walter let go of your hand, grasping Faye's free hand and taking her by surprise. Quickly handing off her phone, Faye carefully followed Walter's lead.
Laughing when Walter spun her around, sending her across the room, Faye caught her balance on the edge of the breakfast table. She could never remember her dad having this much fun or laughing this hard. Dancing around, you laugh when Walter quickly dips you pulling you back up and kissing you softly. Faye's mock retching noises going ignored.
“Thank you,” his lips against your, Walter smiles.
“For?”
“For saying yes and agreeing to marry me. For making me take time to enjoy my family.”
“It's nearly Christmas, Walt. A few days off, a party or two, it won't hurt. You work hard, sweetheart. You need to relax.” You lean into his chest, inhaling the scent of amber and sage.
Clearing her throat, Faye stood with a cookie in her hand, nibbling casually. “Uh, I know that you said I wasn't going to have a sibling, but um...could you not make one right now.”
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imagine-loki · 3 years
Text
What About Trust, Chapter 5
TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 5 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal.  RATING: M
Cleo was outside Loki’s shop at exactly eleven am, Loki was just coming out the door when she arrived.
‘Ah, perfect timing.’ He said as he locked the door.
‘It’s very rare I am on time, so you best feel honoured that I actually managed it for a change.’ She smiled.
‘Well, I am very honoured.’ He chuckled.
They fell into step together and headed down the road. Loki had a place in mind that he thought she would like, if she hadn’t been there before that was.
It was down a quiet street, off the beaten track. But Cleo was in utter awe when she saw it, she couldn’t believe she had never been there before.
It wasn’t just a coffee shop, it sold some records too and had good music playing. It wasn’t overly busy, but had a few people in there.
‘Oh, wow!’ Cleo’s eyes were bright as she looked around. Then she saw what was for sale along with different types of tea or coffee… Fancy looking brownies that looked to die for.
Loki ordered them both coffee and also triple chocolate brownies with caramel. He motioned for her to go upstairs, when she did she almost died in excitement. It was nicely laid out, with some beautiful plants and a long window ledge seat. To the right just off the stairs there was a set of wooden swings that matched the place perfectly. The tables were all made to look like large vinyls.
‘My god, this place is freaking awesome.’ She squeaked excitedly as she took a seat at one of the vinyl tables, Loki swiftly joined her, pleased that she liked the place.
‘I had a feeling you’d like this one.’ He said rather smugly. ‘I’m surprised you of all people haven’t already been here before?’
Cleo laughed. ‘Yeah, I am too actually. I’ve not seen anything about it online before, and I’ve just never been down this way.’ She shrugged.
‘I don’t think they’re much into tech, quite old school and quirky. No online presence.’ Loki said as he started on his brownie, he couldn’t wait any longer.
‘Yeah, makes sense.’ Cleo smiled and started on hers too. ‘Ohhhh my god!’ She moaned and closed her eyes after her first bite. ‘Wow, now that, that is better than sex.’
Loki almost choked on his coffee, he looked over at her and laughed. ‘I am sure they will simply love that kind of review.’
Cleo giggled. ‘Yeah, maybe I will need to re-think that one.’
Loki found himself unable to stop smiling while he was with Cleo. There was just something about her that was really getting under his skin. She was a breath of fresh air to be around, so optimistic about life and bubbly. She was a delight to be around.
‘So, what do you think of the music I gave you?’ Cleo asked as she licked her fingers clean, an action that Loki tried very hard not to look at. His thoughts going elsewhere.
He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with a napkin. ‘Well, you seem to have guessed my taste rather well. I enjoyed them all. And you’re right about lyrics, I really should listen to them more often instead of just taking in the outer layer.’
Cleo grinned brightly. ‘Some lyrics of songs are just a load of bull. But a lot are really meaningful and wonderful to listen to. The great thing about lyrics is you can interpret them in whatever way you want, they can have different meanings for different people.’
‘That’s a nice way to think of it.’ Loki nodded in agreement. ‘Though those so-called rappers are quite ridiculous, just on about sex and drugs.’
‘Oh no no, I know some do. But some of the best lyricists are rappers.’ Cleo said quickly.
Loki raised an eyebrow at her.
‘Seriously. I know some of them can be difficult to actually listen to, but I’ll look out some for you. Just give them a proper listen, you will be pleasantly surprised.’
‘Hmm, that you will have to convince me of.’
‘And I will most definitely prove you wrong.’ Cleo teased.
‘I am never proved wrong.’ Loki drawled and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.
‘Oh yeah? Well, it’s a good thing I love a challenge, isn’t it?’
Loki chuckled at her determination. He would give her the benefit of the doubt, for now.
‘I know you said your brother lives here too, what about your parents?’ Loki enquired.
‘They live back home in Inverness. It was just my brother who decided he wanted to move down here too.’
‘Do you see your parents often?’
Cleo shrugged a little. ‘Not a lot, but sometimes I’ll go home and visit for a holiday. On occasion they come down here, but not often. What about you, are your parents around or do they stay in Norway with your brother?’ She asked.
‘No… I uhm. My parents have passed.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Cleo said sadly.
‘No, don’t worry. It was a long time ago. Though they were my adoptive parents, they adopted me as a baby. I know my biological father died, I never found out about my mother.’
Cleo was warmed that he was opening up to her. That he was starting to let his guard down a little with her, which made her feel really happy.
‘Do you wish you knew her?’ She asked.
Loki pondered on that question for a moment. ‘No. My mother who raised me, she was a wonderful mother. I loved her very dearly, we were… close. I never saw eye to eye with my father in the same way. But I wouldn’t change her for the world.’ He said fondly.
‘That’s really sweet.’ Cleo smiled.
Loki nodded. He felt a little pang of hurt within him when he thought about Frigga. She would have loved Cleo, that much he knew.
‘So, do you… have a boyfriend, or a husband?’ Loki asked, slightly uncomfortable. But it was a question that had been eating away at him, he wanted to know.
‘Nope, definitely not married and no boyfriend. I think I scare guys off when they see my flat filled to the brim with books and records, they assume I’m old-fashioned and have my head in the clouds.’ She laughed.
‘Well, you may live with your head in the clouds but you are certainly not one to run away from.’ He winked at her.
She blushed a little bit at that and smiled. ‘How about you, do you have a special girl in your life?’
Loki shook his head. ‘No, not at the moment. As I’m sure you realised, I tend to keep myself to myself for the most part.’
‘Yeah, I did notice. Grumpy book shop owner always hidden away in his shop… with not the best reputation of being friendly, I saw a few reviews online.’ Cleo grinned.
‘Well, most mortals just come in and mess up my shop.’ He grumbled.
‘Mortals?’ Cleo burst out laughing at his choice of words.
Loki shrugged. ‘Hooligans, mortals, puny humans, whatever.’
‘You do have a funny way with words sometimes… But I guess that’s part of your rather alluring charm.’ She smirked.
After they left the coffee shop, Cleo couldn’t believe that three hours had passed. They had just talked and talked, not caring about time or anything else.
‘Wow, look at the time.’
‘Was I keeping you from something?’ Loki asked as he straightened his jacket.
‘If keeping me from something counts as just lazing around at home reading or listening to music, or binge watching the telly, then yes.’ She elbowed him playfully.
‘You mean you don’t do something productive on your days off?’ Loki chastised playfully.
‘Hell no. The only productive thing I normally do on my days off is watering my plants.’
‘You have a garden?’ Loki queried.
‘Oh yeah. A little plot outside the block of flats. I have a mini greenhouse, too. I love growing some vegetables and have some flowers.’
Loki couldn’t believe it. Not only was she a bookworm, enjoyed music, but she also enjoyed some gardening? How could a mortal be so perfect? It was sickening!
‘I am surprised you can keep them alive.’ He joked.
‘I am too, to be honest. With my scatterbrain sometimes. But I actually do a not too bad job.’ She said proudly, holding her head high.
‘That’s good to hear. For the plants’ sake.’
Cleo laughed. ‘Well, thank you for the coffee and brownie. I really enjoyed it.’
‘Thank you for the company.’ Loki winked at her.
‘I’ll see you soon, Luke.’ She smiled widely at him and patted his arm, then reluctantly headed off.
Loki watched her walking away, he didn’t take his eyes off of her until she had turned the corner. He leaned back against the wall, breathing in deep he looked up at the sky.
‘Why didn’t I just tell her my real name at the start?’ He grumbled at himself and pinched the bridge of his nose.
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Riverdale//a crowded room, friends with tired eyes
Request: riverdale cast x readerthe cast is snowed in for Christmas so they decide to celebrate the holiday together so they end up at readers house and they do secret Santa and all come together and cook a huge Christmas dinner together.FLUFFY AND HUMOROUS(as in cast I mean: lili, cole, kj, cami, drew, jordan, vanessa, madelaine, casey, charles, skeet, marisol, mark, & madchën.. basically the main cast)I might be forgetting someone so if you catch it just add them
hey! can you hear that? it’s the sound of mariah carey getting ready for christmas! i know it is nowhere near, but i’ve already started shopping so i thought, what the hell. anyway, enjoy! and merry early christmas also, just a little trigger warning: suicide joke so please don’t read if that upsets you
Not only is today Christmas Day, but it also marks the seventh day of the supposed three day storm.” The radio presenter’s voice is cheery, but you can hear the thinly veiled contempt that he’s desperately trying to hide. “All transport in and out of the city has come to halt, leaving everyone in Vancouver to wonder the same thing...will we be able to travel for the new year?” He finishes and Jordan boos, while Drew throws a tea towel over the small radio. 
You roll your eyes and pull it back off, handing it to Lili as she passes you in order to get to the oven and she sends you a grateful smile before joining Casey in order to help make the stuffing. 
Skeet comes in holding a large bowl and narrowly avoids bumping into Madelaine as she carries far too many bottles of wine into the living room, and you take a moment to just watch your friends. 
Despite them being miles away from their families, they’re all still smiling as they rush around your kitchen. 
“Please, for the love of God, someone turn that damn radio off before I take a carrot and through the heart and end it all.” Cole jokes and you roll your eyes at him, splashing him with some water as he shuffles around you and small giggle passes your lips when you watch him frown and ruffle his hair about. 
“Why would you want to traumatise Frosty like that?” Vanessa asks while placing a baby bottle on the bench before washing her hands. 
“I don’t know, maybe because he never gave the hat back...that’s theft?” He replies and the six of you stare at him confused. 
“Well, he melted so I think he got what he deserved.” You say after a few seconds, your eyebrows still furrowed as you share a confused look with Jordan and Drew. 
“Hmm, I dunno.” 
“Shut up and get back to peeling carrots.” Skeet interrupts him and slaps the back of his head gently. Cole turns around, ready to get his own back when Skeet pins him in a headlock and walks the two of them out of the kitchen and into the living where the rest of the cast are decorating and sorting presents out. 
“Get in touch! Tell us how you’re celebrating today. Maybe you and your neighbours are getting together, or maybe you’re zooming with the people you can’t be with.” 
“Zooming.” You snort. 
“Now, here’s Wham with Last Christmas!” 
“No!” Charles comes rushing in and switches the radio off, a wild look in his eyes and you stare at him alarmed. 
“Thank you!” Cole shouts from the living room. 
“What the hell?” 
“I’ve got a bet going on with my sisters that whoever goes the longest without hearing Wham, wins.” He explains and you shake your head at him and then a wicked smile comes to your lips and it’s his turn to look panicked. “No, no, no.” He says while watching you inch closer to the radio. “You guys need any help? No, great. Bye.” He says before quickly walking out. 
“This is a very small apartment Melton, I’ll get you.” You threaten before continuing washing some of the dishes you no longer need. 
“Come on, we’re opening presents.” Marisol smiles as she peeks her head around the door and before she’s even finished her sentence you’ve all stopped what you’re doing in order to open your presents. 
It’s a tight squeeze, and by the time you’ve made it into the living room, you can’t see an inch of floor that doesn’t have somebody sat in it, so you carefully step your way over to the tree, a few of your friends offering a helping hand and making sure to gently kick Mark’s legs as you pass which earns an annoyed grumble while he sticks his tongue out at you. 
“Okay!” You start. “I know this was really last minute so the only presents we have are things we could get at the gas station across the street and stuff from the bottom of my closet, but it’s the thought that counts...so Merry Christmas?” You shrug and everyone nods before opening their presents.
“Who bought me a cigar?” Jordan asks and Drew’s eyes widen as he takes it from him. The two of the squabble over it and you roll your eyes at them before continuing to open your own present. 
“Aw, thank you. You got my favourite candy!” 
“You’re welcome.” Vanessa replies and her eyes widen when she realizes what she’s just said. “I mean, it could have been anybody.” She adds, trying to save the situation and you smile at her. “Sorry, baby brain.” She mumbles and rushes to tear the the rest of the wrapping paper away from the box in her hand. “Condoms? Really?” She ask. Cole snorts beside her and she throws the box at his head in retaliation. 
“Toilet paper?” Nat asks and holds up one roll. 
“Sorry, it was the only thing I could find in Y/n’s bathroom.” Charles grins and she rolls her eyes at him. 
“Walkie-Talkies!” KJ’s eyes widen as he stares down at the gift in his hands and you all stare at him, surprised at the sudden outburst. “Y/n, where are your batteries?” 
“Bottom drawer in the kitchen.” You reply and he rushes off. 
“Well, at least someone’s happy.” Mädchen shrugs. 
“Clara won’t be when he takes them back home.” Marisol adds and the two women chuckle. 
“Y/n’s Teen Choice Award?” Casey asks and you all turn your attention to him. 
“Now you have one!” Drew teases and Casey glares at him. 
“Asshole.” He mutters. 
“Please, don’t throw that at him.” 
“Hey, guys, I think the food may be burning.” KJ says while strolling back into the living room and you all rush into the kitchen. You manage to turn the stove off just as the pan is about to boil over. Mark peaks into the oven and a smile graces his lips as he turns to face the rest of you. 
“I think we’re done!” 
“I know this isn’t how we expected to be spending Christmas this year, I should be having my after dinner nap by now.” Skeet starts his speech and looks around. All of you sit with paper crowns on your head and a mountain of food in front of you, and you’re all smiling, despite the sadness that lingers beneath the surface. 
“You’re such an old man.” Cami interrupts. 
“But, as far as bad Christmases go, this wouldn’t even crack the top ten. Because we’re not that far away from our families, the majority of it is sitting in this room...and the living room.” He says and glances over at you, Madelaine, KJ and Mädchen sat on the large sofas. 
“Sorry.” You mumble and look down at the plate of food your balancing on your knees. 
“We forgive you.” KJ grins and squeezes your shoulder making you giggle. 
The world may have stopped outside, but inside this apartment, you have everything you need, and it’s not the worst Christmas you’ve ever had. In fact, it’s pretty perfect.
“Hey Charles?” You ask and he hums in reply. “Have you heard of this new Christmas song?” He shakes his head, too busy focusing on his food to notice the beginning of Last Christmas playing through your speakers. 
His eyes widen as he looks at you and you send him a cheeky grin and hold your glass up to him. 
“Merry Christmas!” 
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bamsywrites · 4 years
Text
Mistakes Like These
Summary: Kakyoin never paid much attention to the younger Kujo. Who knew stockings and short skirt were all it would take change that
Rating: 18+, nsfw
Words: 4877
Warnings: cannabis mention, alcohol use
Tags: afab, fem pronouns, modern!au , doesn’t follow the canon like at all, very au, brother!jotaro x sister!reader, kakyoin x reader, soft dom kak, lots of pet names, plus size reader
Notes: I haven’t written any fanfiction in over five years so this might be rusty. I’m sorry for any mistakes made or if its not how the characters would act. I’m still new to the Jojos fandom but had this idea pop in my head and decided to get it out. I want to turn this in to a multi part story and have several parts already planned out, I just want to have feedback to see if people actually like it.
“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”
A sigh escaped your lips as you read the most recent email in your student inbox. Patience may be a virtue, but it was sure one you didn’t possess. At least not right now anyway. Tsking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you moved the mouse over to the refresh button and clicked. Your eyes followed the downloading icon in circles, fingers tapping anxiously over the desk.
“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”
You exhaled angrily through your nose and leaned back in your chair. Your eyes fixed on the ceiling for a few moments before you looked over to your bed where your cat, Miso, had woken up from his nap.
“I know I should be more patient. But this grade is what determines if I move on to the next course which I need if I want to graduate soon and get out of this apartment.” You spoke as if your cat had scolded you for your impatience.
Your apartment was nice. Super nice. Your friends often described it as “apartment goals.” You could have never afforded it on your own. Hell, you couldn’t afford it even when you graduated and got a job. Two large bedrooms with a spacious living room, modern kitchen, and a balcony that overlooked the cities skyline. There were only two major downsides: there was only one bathroom which had to be shared with your roommate and your roommate happened to be your older brother, Jotaro.
Now, you didn’t exactly hate your brother. He was like any older brother, he thought you were extremely annoying and wanted nothing to do with you most of the time, though there were times growing up where he’d come home with scrapes and bruises after dealing with someone who picked on you at school. As you were both older, you found each other more bearable than you did when you were younger. That didn’t mean, however, you wanted to live with him. Especially while you were in college, which was supposed to be your time to let loose and have fun while still receiving an education, of course. Your grandfather, however, had other plans.
Joseph Joestar was a real estate mogul and had some serious money to his name. He loved to dote on his two grandchildren and was upset that for the most part your parents chose to give you a “normal” life without the extravagance that he offered. Birthdays and christmas he would buy you each a present, until Jotaro turned 15 and started asking for money instead. He made your mother an offer that he knew she couldn’t deny: he would pay for the entirety of your schooling, from associates degree to PhD if thats what you wanted, in order for the two of you to focus on your studies he’d also give you a weekly allowance so that you wouldn’t have to work, and he’d buy you each your own apartment and pay to furnish it how you liked. Holly couldn’t turn down the offer, what kind of mother would deny her children an opportunity like that? However, she did ask that her father only buy a single apartment for her children to share. Her hopes were that it would strengthen your relationship and it also meant she could see both her darling children whenever she desired.
You didn’t want to seem ungrateful at all for what Jiji had done for you. You knew you were extremely privileged to have the opportunities that he provided you but, fuck, sometimes you wished you had your own place. You wanted the independence, to know you earned something but also because sharing a bathroom with Jojo was infuriating. He always moved your stuff, never cleaned the shower, and he never had patience for you to get ready in the mornings. A wishful sigh left your lips as you thought of your future, with just you, Miso, and the ability to use the bathroom whenever you wanted.
Your eyes moved back to the computer screen, clicking refresh, and rolling your eyes when you read the same email from the dean again. Like you expected anything different, you just turned the term paper in yesterday. You brought your cup of tea up to your lips but furrowed your eyebrows when you realized there was none left.
Pushing yourself up out of your chair you formulated a plan for the rest of your evening. You would refill your cup of tea, hop back on your computer to play Overwatch with your friends until the early hours of the morning, and then cuddle up with Miso and look at TikToks until you fell asleep. It was foolproof. No way that you would even think about your term paper grade.
And if you did, you could always refresh your email in between matches.
-----------
Your finger tapped your lip as you looked over all the snack foods in the pantry. While waiting for your tea, you realized that the only thing that could make your plan better was a good snack. You had just gone shopping so it meant that all the poky, ramen, and chips you desired were on the shelves and it made the decision extra hard.
In the middle of your contemplation, you heard the front door turn and the sound of your brother and his friends entering the apartment.
“You know it's true, Jotaro. Your apartments bigger. Its nicer. It has that view that drives the ladies wild. Our apartment is cramped and it smells like weed.” Polnareff’s voice was the first you heard as the trio entered the house.
“Don’t forget the upstairs neighbors who are always playing loud polish music.” Kakyoin added, plopping down to sit on one of the chairs in the living room.
You heard your brother sigh and could feel his annoyance. You never understood how the trio became friends, it was a mystery to everyone including them but they had been together since their days in primary school and the bond they shared was one that intrigued you.
“Yes, yes. The polish,” Polnareff nodded. “Known around the world for their ability to ruin the mood with a hurdy-gurdy.”
There was silence, and you could tell your brother was not budging a bit. A party was not Jotaros thing. Kakyoin wasn’t a partier either, from what you gathered he’d much rather stay at home playing video games and smoking weed. Sucking your bottom lip in your mouth, you made your decision, grabbing a bag of chips and a box of strawberry pocky. You did your best to hold those in one hand and your cup of tea in the other.
“Feel that Christmas spirit, Jo. Help Pol in his never ending crusade to get laid. The poorman is gonna end this year with, what, a batting average of zero. He’ll be a disgrace to French men everywhere.” The teasing tone Kakyoins voice almost made you laugh.
“Hey! Batting average of 3. You know this,” Polnareff shot back, causing his roommate to throw his hands up in mock surrender.
“Jotaro,” The french man turned his attention back to your brother, who simply turned on the TV in what seemed to be an attempt to drown out the sound of his friend's voice, “C’mon. I’ll buy your cigarettes for a month…..Two months?” His voice was getting more desperate, his head turned toward you. A smile stretched across his features as he jumped off the couch and threw his arms around your shoulder.
God, you just wanted to go to your room.
“New deal,” Polernaff declared, squeezing you to the side of his body as you tried not to splash your tea all over the floor. Kakyoin looked away from the TV, eyebrow raised, Jotaros attention never faltered from the knock-off Viagra commercial. “If you agree to a Christmas Eve party I will buy you cigarettes for three months, I will never ask anything of you ever again, and I will stop flirting with your sister.”
Kakyoin snorted, shaking his head and turning his attention to Jotaro. Since you had moved in with Jotaro, the frenchman hadn’t stopped making comments about how beautiful he thought you were or just giving you flirty winks whenever you walked through the room. You found it annoying at first, but you quickly got over it when you realized he did the same thing with every girl, and boy, that he saw.
“Good grief,” Jotaro sighed. “Its a deal.”
------------------
“I can’t believe you agreed to this.” Kakyoin mumbled as he and Jotaro watched their friend place the final touches on the decorations and food for the party. Y/N had already put up Christmas decorations earlier that month, there was some snowmen set out on the dining table and a cute tree with some presents neatly wrapped under it. However, Polnareff had decided that wasn’t enough. He had hung up snowflakes to come down from the ceiling, there was garland hung on every wall, and so much fucking mistletoe.
Polnareff had even requested that his friends dress festive. Jotaro, of course, didn’t listen and wore what he always wore. Kakyoin decided to humor his friend and wore a Santa hat along with a dark green v-neck and dark wash jeans.
“You don’t need the money, right? Grandpa Joestar’s allowance has to be enough for cigarettes.” He continued, watching his roommate place a bowl of peppermints by the door.
“I just wanted to get him to shut up,” Jotaro said with a roll of his eyes.
“You think he’ll actually follow through on leaving Y/N alone?”
Jotaro shook his head, “Out of all the people in this city, you’d think he’d leave the only one of limits alone.”
Kakyoin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.
-----------
You smoothed your hands over your outfit, turning to the side to get it from a different angle. You couldn’t decide if you liked it or not. The sweater was cute, it was red with a deep green christmas tree that had colorful little puff balls as the ornaments. Your make-up and hair looked nice, too.  That wasn’t what concerned you. It was the white pleated skirt and tight red stockings that caused you pause. You grabbed at your love handles that spilled over the top of the skirt a bit and your eyes traveled to how your thighs looked in the stockings.
Polnareff had told you you could invite some friends over. Which, of course you could, this was your apartment and you didn’t need his permission. You had told him as such and invited over your three closest friends.
You turned around to your bed and looked at Miso, who was comfortably curled up. “How do I look?” You waited a moment before turning back to the mirror and smacking your lips together. You were tempted to take off the skirt and tights and throw a pair of jeans on but something changed your mind last minute. Instead of heading to your closet to change, you instead grabbed the reindeer antler hand band and slipped it on top of your hair before heading out of the safety of your bedroom.
You were so distracted with the new decorations that you didn’t notice the pair of eyes that were glued to your form.
------
Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime was playing for what seemed like the fifth time. Kakyoin had never hated Paul McCartney more than he did now. He was just now starting to feel the buzz of all the drinks he had had but it didn’t make the party any more bearable.
“She,” Kakyoin pointed to a blonde girl in a Santa dress, “is gonna hook up with him,” He pointed to a dark haired main that had for some reason felt the need to take his shirt off.
Jotaro simply grunted before eyeing more of the members of the party. This was a game they’d been playing for the past hour and a half, making bets on who was gonna hook up with who and who was gonna get the most shit faced.
“He’s gonna end up passed out in my bathtub,” The dark haired man stated, pointing to the only person dancing to the playlist Polnareff had created.
Kakyoin broke a smile as he watched the clearly wasted man's horrible dance moves. His attention was brought away from the scene by the sound of Y/N’s laugh. For what had to be the millionth time that night, the red haired man eyed her up and down. That outfit looked so fucking good on her but the smile streched out across her lips looked even better.
I wonder what the lipstick would look like smeared on my cock.
The thought slipped into his head and he couldn’t stop from staring at the red painted on your lips.
Does she feel as soft as she looks?
He took a sip from his cup. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about his hands running over her thighs or his fingers digging into her hips. It was strange that he was having these thoughts. He’d never viewed Y/N as more than just Jotaro’s younger sister. He never thought she was ugly, in fact there were multiple times that he thought she was down right gorgeous but it had never turned sexual. Something about that outfit had sent him over that edge.
The sound of Last Christmas brought him out of his trance. Kakyoin almost immediately rolled his eyes. He almost missed the hurdy-gurdy.
“Good grief,” Jotaro mumbled and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the coffee table. “I’m heading out for a smoke.”
Kakyoin watched as his best friend got up but instead of heading for the balcony, Jotaro went out the front door. The red haired man was tempted to follow but as soon as that thought popped into his mind he heard the drunk voice of his other best friend call to him.
“Kak, you gotta show these guys the cherry thing!”
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It was well past 3. The party had ended and most of the attendants took an Uber home. The only people in the apartment were you, Polnareff, and Kakyoin. Jotaro had still not returned from that smoke he said he was going to take hours ago. The buzz had long worn off and the reality sank in that you had to clean the disaster of an apartment that was left in the christmas party’s wake.
There were red solo cups strewn about various surfaces and all over the floor, glitter seemed to have gotten everywhere, there were plates of food left half eaten, and there was a candy cane just stuck to the wall. Looking at the destruction, you almost wondered if the fun you had had was worth it. With your parents coming over tomorrow...or, well, today…..for Christmas, you had really no other option than to clean it, with that thought in your head you grabbed a garbage bag and started cleaning.
After a few minutes, you heard the familiar rustle of plastic as someone was opening a trash bag and you turned to see Kakyoin helping you with your task.
“Thanks,” You told him as you threw a plate of half eaten cake into the bag.
“No problem. Pol is passed out in the hallway and I gotta make sure Jo makes it home safe, so I’m kinda stuck here.”
You simply nodded in response and kept about your task in silence. A silence which seemingly bothered Kakyoin because a few minutes later he cleared his throat and broke the silence.
“So I, uh, noticed your man wasn’t here tonight.” He almost smacked himself for asking the question. You thought he was just making small talk, the thought of him having more devious reasons behind asking if you were single hadn’t crossed your mind.
“My….My man?” You quirked an eyebrow, looking back over your shoulder at him.
“Yeah, your man. I saw you with some guy a while back,” Kakyoin had put down the now full trash bag and was leaning against the counter top with his arms crossed as he spoke.
“Oh,” You suddenly realized who exactly he was talking about, “Yeah, um, we broke up six months ago,” You said with a laugh.
“Oh...Six months?” He titled his head to the side, “Are you sure? Hmm… Well, sorry I didn’t notice...I uh guess I should be more observant.
You shook your head, placing down your own bag and heading past him to the pantry to grab another. “Its alright, I’m not offended. I’m sure you find me as annoying as I find Jotaros friends.”
Kakyoin raised his eyebrows at your statement, “You find me annoying? I mean, Pol, I get. Yeah. He’s one of my closest friends and even I can’t handle him sometimes. But me? I never talk to you.”
You had busied yourself with cleaning the rest of the cups off the counter, “ I don’t know. You’re just…” You looked up and noticed his eyes quickly flick down to your lips before making eye contact with you again. “I mean, you did one time give me oregano and told me it was weed.”
“First,” Kakyoin started, his body shifted so it was turned toward you, “Thats not annoying. I would call that immature, maybe. But annoying? Nah. Second,” he threw up two fingers to emphasize his point, “ In my defense, you were 15 and I was worried about you finding our stash under Jo’s bed and I thought it would lessen that chance if I gave you your own stash.”
You laughed, setting the bag down and turning to look at him. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in that dark green shirt but you quickly willed that thought away.  “Kakyoin, that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Hey, at the time it did.”
You tilted your head to the side, you had plenty of stories that you could use as proof that he was annoying, “ What about that time you and Jojo left me stranded at school because the new playstation came out?”
“Thats not fair,” He noticed the playful hint your voice was taking and it caused a small smile to tug at his lips.
“How about the time that you threw up in my make up bag?”
“Hey, that was all Frenchie. Not me.”
“Or…..” You were silenced by Kakyoin pressing a finger to your lips. You hadn’t noticed that the two of you had just kept moving closer and closer as you were talking. You could get a better look at him now, his eyes looked tired but there was a mischievous glint to them, proof to you that he found this just as amusing as you did.
“What about you, huh? You saying that you’ve never been annoying?” He cocked an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look that let you know he had as many stories about you that you had about him.
“Look, I never once implied that I wasn’t annoying. I’ll own up to it,” You shrugged, “I was a total brat.”
Kakyoin snorted, “Don’t act like you’re not still a brat.”
“How?!” You looked almost taken aback, “How am I still a brat? You hardly see me!”
Kakyoin loved banter and teasing with his friends, it was kind of his thing. It was how he showed affection. If he didn’t gently bully you how was he supposed to show that he cared? But this, this teasing between the two of you was different. It made the room seem hotter and his pants feel tighter. That coupled with how fucking cute you looked in that damn outfit, even if your make up had worn off a bit and the lipstick was smugged. He couldn't deny it was doing things to him.
“I see you now,” His voice was deep, his tongue sticking out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes trailed you up and down.
Your cheeks immediately turned a blushy pink and your skin was hot under his gaze. Your lips parted but no words came out. This was Jotaros best friend, there was no way he was flirting with you.
Kakyoin took a few steps forward so he was as close to you as he could be without touching you. “I see you now,” He repeated in the same low voice, this time keeping eye contact with you, “And I see a brat.”
He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear, a gasp hitching in your throat as his heated skin touched your check briefly, “Unless you’re gonna show me otherwise.”
“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly weak at his gaze. “H-how?”
You look into his eyes and you can see it. You can see how much he wants you and how intense that want is. No one has ever looked at you that way before and it made your stomach erupt in butterflies. Quickly, you turn your head away not being able to handle the intensity of his stare. You feel his fingers on your chin guiding you to look back up at him, holding you there so he can take in all the features of your face. Its like he’s looking at you for the first time. His fingers move gently from your chin down to your neck, your breathing hitched in your throat when you felt the soft pad of his thumb move across your lips.
“If you want me to stop, tell me sweetheart,” He’s eyes had gotten a few shades darker and his voice seemed more strained than usual. Kakyoins free hand traveled under the sweater your were wearing, fingers lightly dancing along your side as his other hand stayed on you face, gently tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb. “Tell me right now and I’ll go back to pitching solo cups and scrubbing counters.”
In the pit of your stomach you knew you shouldn’t. You knew that if Jojo ever found out he’d flip, he’d always done his best to keep you and his friends separate. You always thought it was because you annoyed him and he didn’t want to have to be around you more than you already were, Kakyoin knew that it was because no matter how the man acted, he deeply cared for you and would do anything to protect you. These thoughts of Jotaro’s reaction filtered through your mind but your brother wasn’t here right now.
You acted on impulse, your tongue peaking out of your mouth to coax Kakyoins thumb between your lips. He watched with heavy lidded eyes as you gently sucked on the digit, swiping your tongue along the length of it. His breathing picked up for a moment before mumbling a quiet, “Fuck.”
Almost instantly you were hoisted on the counter with his lips against yours and wasting no time to swipe his tongue into your mouth. His hands quickly traveled up your thighs, pushing your skirt to pool at your hips and quickly ripping the stockings down the middle. Your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible as your fingers worked at undoing his belt.
He pulls away from your lips for a moment to help you pull down his boxers and jeans. You licked your lips as you admired his cock, already hard and glistening with precum. You felt his fingers on your face again directing you to look at him.
“My cock needs to be inside you, sweetheart. Can I do that?” He was breathing heavy, he had never wanted someone so much in his life. All he wanted right now was to feel your pussy around his cock. Consequences be damned. “Can I fuck you, princess?”
You whine when you hear him speak, his voice is like nothing you ever heard before. Lust and want seemed to be dripping off every word. The whole situation leaves you speechless. At the nod of your head, Kakyoin pulls your panties to the side and slides inside you. His moan and your whimper are the only noises in the quiet apartment, his eyes watching your face intently for any sign of discomfort or desire to stop.
“Fuck me,” You breath out when your vocie finally comes to you. “Please, Kakyoin. Fuck me.”
He groans and happily obliges, rocking his cock in and out of you. Your small gasps and whimpers only egg him on more as he increases the speed of this thrust, your hands bracing yourself against the countertop. His eyes break from your face to watch his own cock slide in and out, the sight of his cock slick with your wetness makes him moan.
“Thats a perfect fucking pussy, sweetheart.” He breaths out so soft you almost can’t hear him over the slick sound of his skin on yours. His eyes find yours again, hand moving back to rest on your jawline and hold you in his gaze. He leans close and sucks your lip into his mouth, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh before soothing it with his tongue.
“You’re such a good girl,” Kakyoin tells you before pressing his lips against yours again. He picks up the pace because, goddammit, he wants to feel you cum on his cock. He pulls aways, resting his forehead against yours. Your moans are soft and the whimpers that follow cause him to smirk.
“Oh, fuck. That feels so good,” You whisper, looking into his eyes. He can see you getting closer and closer and its making it hard for him to keep composed.
“You take a cock so well, princess,” His lips brush against yours, he tilts your head to the side so that he can kiss down your neck, and then back up again. His lips find the lobe of your ear and gently suck on it. Your moans are getting more and more erratic, every now and then you’ll gasp out his name.
“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock,” Kakyoin whispers into your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. “Shit, sweetheart, I wanna feel that pretty fucking pusy come on my cock.”
It’s the sound of his voice whispering those dirty things in your ear that sends you over the edge.
“Thats it, princess. Fuck, sweetheart…I’m...shit. Can I….?” The red heads voice is ragged and incoherent but you knew what he was asking.
“Fuck, yes, please,” Its all you can do to get the words out. “Please, I wanna feel you come in me.”
You both come hard, his fingers digging roughly into the skin of your thighs and loud moans filling the space of the kitchen. The warmth of him spilling inside of you is enough to make you want a round two. After a few moments the two of you are left breathing heavy, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.
You stay like that for a moment, trying to regain your composure and come to terms with everything that had just happened. This was a development in events that neither of you ever saw coming. Its you that make the move to separate, pushing against his chest and moving off the counter. You avoid eye contact with him, flating your skirt back down and picking up your, now ruined, stockings off the tiled floor. You could feel his cum drip out of you down to your thighs.
“That was….” Kakyoin broke the silence, buckling his belt and running a hand through his hair. You noticed he too was looking at anything but you.
“Yeah,” You nodded your head in response.
“You know we can’t uh…-”
“Yup.”
“Like, ever.”
“Trust me, I’m aware.”
“H-Happy...Happy Christmas.”
You just nod and quickly retreat to your room, throwing yourself on your bed and groaning into your pillows. After a moment, you crawled under the blankets and pulled your cat into your chest.
“Miso. I think I’m a slut….”
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Kakyoin watched as you retreated away down the hallway, his mind still wrapping around what had happened. The fact that he was the one that instigated it. He was the one that made all the moves and god, he shouldn’t have. But he had wanted to. He had wanted to get you in that position all night.
It was at that moment that Jotaro entered the apartment again, smelling of cigarettes and….perfume? Kakyoin was gonna have to ask him about that one later. “
“The prodigal son has returned,” The redhead teased his friend, doing his best to hide the guilt he had for what he had just done.
“Shut up,” Jotaro mumbled. He eyed his friend curiously, he was very observant and it was very naive of Kakyoin to think that he wouldn’t notice the change in his friend. “What’s wrong with you?”
I just busted a big one in your sister. And would probably do it again if the chance presented itself. No biggie.
“I’m, uh, I’m just tired.”
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Thank you so much for reading this! I appreciate it very much. Let me know what you think of it and if I should continue the story. Merry Christmas!
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