#i really hope mind trio can continue like this (and make lots of money while doing it lmao) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bossyleo · 4 years

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Beautiful Crime, (CH 1)

Summary; Kat and the trio of women rob the grocery store. Their normal lives go down the drain when they met a leader of the gang. Kat has double life's, will her past life crash her down? will she keep running like she always has to start fresh or will she stay and fight from her past life and bad blood? Along the way, she fell in love with someone who she never expected to be.

Warning: +18, gun mention, robbery.

A/N; I want to say thank to @prettygangfriend, @cacoetheswriting for helping me and editing the story. Thank to @ skamlover to help me with my OC Spanish language. This is my first fanfic I publish is here, Please let me know what you think and I’m interested in your feedback, don’t be silent readers. I worry if I hear no comment, it mean that nobody like my story. I apologize if my grammar is awful, ENJOY!!! Also, let me know if you want to be TAGGED!!

Here is the cover @atriaedits has made

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The sound of the obnoxious chewing, followed by the sound of a loud, snapping pop, is coming from the backseat, slowly driving Beth insane.

“Oh my god! I asked you to stop doing that like five minutes ago.” Beth turned her head away from the window and glared at her friend, feeling annoyed by that ridiculous sound she’s been hearing since she picked her up.

“Damn girl. You know what, fine” Kat spits out the gum and tosses it to one of the trash cans standing outside of their window. “Happy now?” She glances at Beth then opens the vanity mirror to check herself out, trying to fix her hair. Pulling two strands of her brunette hair, she adjusts her face-framing bangs. As she takes a minute to admire her shining, golden hoop earrings, they hear a screeching sound of a tire coming up behind Beth’s van.

Both of them look up, only to reveal the red, rusty car, that belonged to no other than Annie. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Ruby sitting in the passenger seat, while Beth was already preparing her big sister speech.

“I cannot believe you,” Beth started, once Annie had parked her car. She threw her hands up in defense, trying to calm down Beth.

“Chill, sis. I’m like, two minutes late.”

The four women gather around and go up to the back of Annie’s trunk, popping it open to reveal four ski masks and four toy guns. Kat grabs the plastic guns from the gym bag, admiring the crafty work of Beth’s painting job. She has to admit, they look pretty realistic—well, realistic enough to make sure the hostages will comply.

“Wait, Annie, I think you should use the concealer to cover the tattoo,” Kat says.

“What, Nah, I’ll be fine, my shirt will cover it.” Annie reply.

“Let’s get this over with,” Ruby says, letting out a deep sigh, while Annie passes everyone their very own ski-mask. Both Beth and Annie wore a blue one, Kat went for the color black, as she wanted to make sure to match her outfit, and Ruby decided to go with a bandana instead.

Not wasting any more time, the four women walk into the ‘Fine and Frugal’ grocery store. It takes a couple of seconds before people notice their cloth covered faces, but once they do, the ladies go into action.

“Listen up!” Annie yells out, pointing her gun up into the air, “Everyone just stays cool, and nobody gets hurt!”

The rest of the women are quick to follow Annie’s actions, and start pointing their guns around the store. People look around in both confusion and fear, but they make sure to get onto the ground. A smirk appears on Kat’s face, while watching the store manager walk up to them, his hand up in the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery,” Annie said as if she announced to the customers.

THREE WEEKS EARLIER

The ripping of a wax strip echoes through the room, followed by a loud shriek of pain coming from Beth, who’s currently finding herself on her arms and knees.

“I wonder how Kat’s doing” she wonders out loud, “Oh god, she won’t hurt Ashley, right?”

The lady waxing Beth has a look of concern on her face, silently praying for her co-worker Ashley. “She’ll be fine, ma’am”, she reassures Beth, before continuing her work.

“I can only hope-“ before she could finish her sentence, a young brunette walks into the room. Beth turns her head to figure out what was going on, or what was important enough to interrupt her session.

“Mrs. Boland? I’m afraid your card has been declined”

Beth couldn’t help but frown and come up with something that would explain the situation, but Kat walked in just in time, handling it.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it,” Kat tells her, sticking her hands inside the pockets of her white, comfortable robe. The woman gives her a quick nod, before walking out again.

“I’ll pay you back,” Beth says, shaking her head while looking over at Kat. “I’m sure Dean just forgot to pay a bill, he’s been really busy and distracted, lately.”

Kat raises an eyebrow at her explanation, already knowing there’s a lot more to it than just Dean forgetting the bills. She’s always thought of him as someone who’s rather suspicious, and untrustworthy, but she wasn’t going to insult Beth’s husband to her face, so she drops it.

“Yeah, I’m sure” Kat mumbles, hoping Beth wouldn't catch the sarcastic tone in her voice, which she didn’t.

Kat feels her phone vibrating, and she lets out an annoyed sigh. The name of her boss pops up on her screen, and she couldn’t mentally curse herself for hurrying to answer it.

“Hello, sir“ she rolls her eyes at the familiar sound of her boss yelling and ordering her around on the phone. “Yes, of course- Hello?“

“He just hung up on me!” Kat calls out, making Beth scoff loudly. “First he insults my cooking, and now this? What an asshole!” She says, and Kat nods at her in agreement while remembering that day all too well.

Last week Kat tried to get out of a work thing by telling Mark, her boss, she already did had dinner plans to attend. She didn’t know how or why, but apparently he thought it was a great idea to invite himself. If that wasn’t bad enough already, he felt the need to tell Beth he wasn’t a big fan of her cooking. Beth was ready to defend herself, but of course, Dean told her to calm down, which ultimately led to those two pricks becoming buddies, who even started hanging out.

“The truth is, he’s just an idiot who thinks women can’t be equal to men. One day I will prove that piece of trash wrong, trust me. Kat convinces Beth while taking off her robe, revealing her work outfit as an office assistant, underneath it.

She was wearing a cream button-down paired with a matching suede jacket. She brushed a dark curl off her shoulder, walking toward the mirror against the wall. A glance at her reflection, reapplying a dark red lipstick with a flourish. She shifted her weight. “ I got to go, Adiós “ Kat picks up her purse and leaves the room, leaving Beth to sigh heavily as she picks up her phone, calling the bank wondering why her credit card decline, she knows her husband, Dean probably forgot to pay it. Beth thought.

Kat enters her hybrid car small with a four-door which she got a good deal from her friend, Beth’s husband, Dean. She drove to the coffee shop which is near the diner where Ruby works at. She stands in line, waiting patiently for her turn.

Then she placed the orders, she checks her phone to see what time it. Glad I’m on my lunch break, can’t wait to see my baby soon. Kat thought happily. Kat grabs two medium cups and hurries to her car. The girls would be expecting her at the diner soon. She quickly drives to the meeting spot and dashes in carrying her coffee.

The bell ding above the door as Kat enters... See Beth and Annie is already in their booth near the window. Kat smiles at them as she walks over to them, “Hola.” She pushes Annie’s legs off the seat as she sits down.

“Ooo, Coffee!” Annie was about to grab one from the tray but Kat hit her hand as she scolds her “I promised my jefe I would bring him some, so keep your hands off “ Annie glances at her,” I don’t know what you just said, but it sounds hot” Kat shake her head as she chuckles.

“Where’s the translated book I got for you? You need to read it.” Annie shakes her head and replies “I tried to but then I fell asleep.” Kat chuckles again.

“ And she was only halfway through my wax.” Beth continued the conversion she had earlier to Annie before Kat walked in. “But I offer to pay it, What happens?” Mia asks.

Beth shook her head, “I changed my mind, You need the money for your son, Mateo.” Beth answers. Kat wants to help her friend Beth but knows she is right. “Gracias”. Kat reply, showing her red lips turn into a smile. “So, What happens?” Annie asks. Beth answered, “Well, now I’m uneven.”

Ruby walks over to her friends, places the coffee pot on the table. “I don’t even wanna know.”

“Dean maxed out their credit card at some lingerie store,” Annie explain to Ruby.

“Do you think he’s sleeping around?” Beth glance at Kat.

Annie and Kat chuckle. Ruby shakes her head and replies in a sarcastic scoff, “Don’t nobody want Dean.”

“MmM, Sometimes I wonder why you married your first boyfriend? I heard that the first boyfriend isn’t a good keeper.” Kat said out aloud.

“What, But, Annie married Greg!” Beth says as if she defends herself.

“Look how it turned out,” Kat replied sarcastically. They chuckled. “Maybe it’s your anniversary present,” Annie says, trying to make her sister think the bright side but fail to.

Kat tries to hold her snort from Beth but fails. “Yeah right, Dean isn’t the type, I have a feeling like he is one of the old fashion types.” Which led Annie to join in laughing with Kat. They take a breath as soon as the laugh dies.

Beth rolls her eyes and decides to ignore Kat’s comments “He already gave me 100 coupons to Bed Bath & Beyond.” She looked at her friends.

Ruby’s upper lips curled in disgust. “Ew. Really?”

“Son of a bitch.” Annie says bluntly, hissed.

“No, I really do love it there.” Beth smiles.

“Really? He should’ve given you a coupon to Bath & Body Work instead.” Kat takes a sip of her coffee, Ruby nods in agreement.

“No. That old guy is stealing your tip.” Annie pointed her fingertip at the old guy. The trio follows her gaze, their eyes settle on an elderly man slowly but surely walking toward the empty table, and seems like he’s struggling to walk properly. He looked around, smiling harmless when a couple passed by.

Kat placed her hand on Annie's hand. “Girl, pointing is rude.” Mia shakes her head.

Ruby turns around and gives an ‘Are you kidding me’ look to Annie “He can’t even walk.”

Annie urged Ruby “ Go get it.” She gave ‘go get it’ hand gestures which cause Ruby to sigh then she gets up on her foot and slowly walks toward the table. Her eyes widen when the elderly man was about to lean in. Ruby quickly swipes up her tip just before he even touches it. He sent Ruby a look as he made his exit, cane in his hand, dropping the act.

“Shady S.O.B,” Ruby said shaking her head as she sat down, her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “absolutely shady.”

“Don’t let the innocent look fool you ” Kat says as she takes a sip of her coffee.

A smile appeared on Annie’s lips, almost proudly. “At my old job, we just got robbed all the time, So I got the six sense now.”

Beth looked at her sister, “Are you serious?” She hopes that Annie is kidding.

“I mean, it’s no big ideal,” Annie said as she gave a half shrug. “ All the stores I work at eventually get hit.”

Shaking her head, Beth met Annie’s eyes showing concern in her eyes “You could get shot.”

“Ugh. One can hope.” Beth took a breath.

“These guys, they don’t want to hurt anybody. They just want the money. So we let them have it. Nobody’s trying to be a hero.”

Hunching over and leaning in closer.

“Do they get caught?” Ruby asks. Beth slowly turned to look at her friend, brow’s knitted together as she looks at Ruby questionably.

Annie let out a ridiculous scoff, “Yeah, the dumb ones do ‘cause they park in the front by the security cameras.” Kat mutters idota, but is glad that Annie and no one got hurt.

“You gotta put your getaway car in the back by the loading dock,” Annie shows hand gestures as if she planing out the blueprint. “And you never get dick around with the registers.” She added. “The real money is back in the vault.”

“You’ve really worked this out. “ Beth nods is impressed by her little sister.

Annie’s shoulder shrug “Just keeping my options open.” Kat nods in an agreement.

“How much is in the vault? Ruby asks as if she gives a thought.

“Thirty grand, give or take.” Annie answer. Ruby’s pupils widen open, eyebrow up raises up. Kat let out an ‘O’ shape of her mouth. Letting out a whistle like she is impressed by how much.

“Damn, I could use that money.” Ruby says as Kat nods, “perfecto count me in.” Kat reply with a grin.

“Oh my god, me too” Annie joins in. Beth looks at them like they are crazy or serious.

“So, when do you want to do this?” Ruby glance at Annie and Kat.

Annie replies “Well, I already bought three automatics and filed off the serial numbers so really, name a day”

Kat pauses her lips for a moment to think which day is better. Beth looks at the three women, not sure if they are serious or not Until Ruby’s lips turn into a Cheshire Cat grin at Beth which causes the trio to laugh at Beth.

“You should see your face” Annie points out.

“It’s whiter than usual,” Ruby says, Kat chuckles.

The four women entered the Fines & Frugal with their masks covering their faces and a toy gun in their hands and stopped in the center of the hallway.

"I'm gonna need you to all get on the ground," Annie says as the four women point the toy gun at the hostages. "Get your cell phones out of your pockets and keep your hands where I can see 'em," Annie says as the hostages follow the instructions.

“All right, good. Now, I need you to get your manager up here. Annie says, but no one is moving or listening. Annie says it again but still no reply. Annie looks at Ruby as she shrugs her shoulder like she doesn't know what to do. Ruby yell in a nice tone "Hey, where's y'all's boss at?" Still no response from the hostages.

All of a sudden, Beth decides to act like a bad cop. " I better get a manager up here right now or I will start capping people! I'm not even joking, mother.” Beth kicks the wooden boxes with her right leg. Causing people to be afraid of her as they gasp in fear. Causing Annie's and Ruby’s eyes to widen as if they are in shock at Beth while Kat nods and is impressed by it.

ONE WEEK EARLIER

Kat enters the entry foyer inside of the Boland’s Residence with her son whose’s six years old. He smiles happily when he saw his friends, Beth’s four children in the living room, playing. He let go of his mother’s hand and run toward them. as he pulls his little backpack off as he drops it on the floor, Joining his friends.

Meanwhile, Kat walks into the kitchen, seeing Beth cooking dinner and Annie sipping diet coke soda "Hola," Kat puts her purse on the chair and car keys inside the purse as she sits down next to Annie.

"How was work?" Beth asks, chopping the chicken fingers into stars. Kat sighs heavily, “he’s killing me, I swear sometimes I just want to punch him en el hosico.”

Beth and Annie look confused at first, and then Annie says “Ooo! Asshole” Finally, Beth understands what her friend, Kat’s saying. Kat looks at Annie “it amazes me that you don’t know Spanish words, just only cuss words.”

Annie smiles. “What can I say, I love curse words.” Annie smiles, proud of herself which causes Kat to chuckle.

“Oh, because your life is so great. I should want this life?” Annie asks, frowning

“Woah, what’s going on?” Kat asks, wondering why the sisters are arguing.

“Lil miss perfect think’s I’m running my life.” Beth looks at Kat and back to Beth.

“I didn’t say that,” Beth said, cutting the chicken fingers.

Annie scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Look at Kat, She’s a single mother with a gorgeous figure and a cute son. She’s living the best motherhood life.” Annie says, flattering her best friend.

Kat chuckles, “oh honey, No I’m not. My boss who thinks women can’t be CEO, I’m still his assistant which I should’ve moved next level, but noo. Also, My son keeps asking about his father every single day.” Katsays sadly.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Beth replies as she put her hand on top of Kat’s hand to comfort her as Annie gave her a hug. Kat has told her friends that the father isn’t in the picture.

“And, I mean, not to pile on, look who you married. “ Annie glances at Beth.

“It’s 20 years and four children. Marriage sometimes takes little work.” Beth says, defend herself and Dean.

“Well, It depends on the sex life, and when you told me that you and Dean aren’t wild like you used to, it means something went wrong ” Kat says then Beth glare at her like she can’t believe she says to her face.

“You could lose your daughter. Has that occurred to you?” Beth ignores Kat’s comments and focus on her little sister.

“Well seeing Greg is suing me for custody and I can’t afford it, yes actually, the thought has crossed my mind.” causing Beth to stop at what she doing. Kat hugs Annie for comfort.

“I didn’t know,” Beth says.

“Now you do,” Annie replies as she pulls away from the hug. Then Dean car dealership Boland Motor commercial appears on the tv.

Beth glimpses at the tv as she sees Amber, the seller. She heard Annie said “Jezz, who’d this chick have to blow to get on TV?” as a joke.

Beth takes another look at the blonde woman on her screen, while Kat's words linger around in her head. She has seen the lady talking to Dean before, and now that she's thinking about it, it is awfully coincidental she's gotten such an unexpected promotion.

"Kat, Can you drop the kids at Annie's neighbor, the babysitter? We'll be right back." Beth asks.

Kat reply" yeah, sure" then she gave her car key to them because she knew five children won't fit in her car so she will use Beth's van instead.

"Hijos!" Kat yells as she searches for the children then goes upstairs and finds them in one of Beth's children's bedrooms, playing and coloring, drawing on the papers. She took them in Beth's van and drove them to Annie's neighborhood so the babysitter can keep an eye on them.

An hour later, "I'm back," Kat says to sing an along tone and is about to shut the front door until she hears a familiar voice "hey!" from outside and seeing it from one of her friends, Ruby. Kat let her inside. Then close the door.

"Guess who found those caramels Bugles at Kroger?" Ruby asks, trying to find Beth and Annie, but finds them in the living room instead. Normally, the four women would sit in another room to watch The Bachelorette but instead, they are in the living room and Beth is lying on the couch while Annie tries to comfort her sister.

Kat's and Ruby's brows knitted in confusion and then Beth immediately went up to them and hugged them. They hug her back but look at Annie over Beth's shoulders confused.

'Dean's having an affair' Annie mouths to us. Kat's pupils widened as she figures it out. But Ruby doesn't understand' what' Ruby mouths back.

Annie mouths it again but a bit more forcefully. Kat whisperer in Beth that she be right back. Beth nods and lets Mia go and hug Ruby's.

"Huh" Ruby questions again. Annie sighs 'Dean is' Annie says then makes sexual gestures then Ruby finally gets it "son of a bitch" She mutters. " Oh, what can we do?" Ruby asks. She rubs Beth's back.

"How about a screwdriver?" Annie suggested. Kat came in from the garage, carrying a sledgehammer over her shoulder.

Beth sees Kat over Ruby's shoulder and an idea pops in her mind, as she replies "a sledgehammer." Annie and Ruby glance at each other's confusion while Kat's lip turns into a smirk.

Shattering, Beth swings the sledgehammer and hits Dean's computer in his office. Beth hit his trophies and then the file cabinets as she yanks the files and throws them on the ground, the paper flying in the air. Continuing hitting the other file cabinets. While Annie and Ruby, Mia stand in the doorway of Dean's study office, watching Beth take her anger on the cheating husband's things and destroy them. "Are you planning on stopping this?" Ruby asks, "Hell no," Kat says as she's recording what Beth is doing on her phone.

Ruby glance at her friend, Kat. "What are you doing?"

Kat grins, "Dean shouldn't mess with Beth, I might post it on YouTube."

"Don't do that, her kids might see it." Ruby scold her. Kat rolls her eyes dramatically, and replies, "fine but I'm still keeping the video."

"Send it to me," Annie says. Kat nods and sends the video to Annie's phone. Ruby scoffs.

Kat says goodbye to the girls because she has to pick up her son and then head home. She picks up her son and drove to her apartment she shares with Mateo. She fed him dinner and gave him a bath before bedtime.

Kat tucks her son, Mateo in his bed at home. "Good night Mi Amor" Kat pecks his little forehead, "Noches Mami " He rubs his little eyes with his thumb. She sighs heavily, feeling angry at Dean and feeling bad toward her friend Beth. She doesn't deserve this at all. Kat thought.

Meanwhile, Beth sat in the dining room, waiting for her cheating husband to get home. Drinking her vodka out from the bottle. She remembers the conversation she has with Mia and wondering if she'd make a mistake to decline Kat's offer.

“Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” Kat asks,

“Yes,” Beth responded.

“What if I break his nose a little?” Kat suggests. Beth gives her ‘no’ expression look.

"Are you SURE I can't punch him in the face?" Kat asks.

Spanish translate (Correct me If I’m wrong)

jefe- My Boss

En el hosico - On the snout

Mi Amor - My love

noches mamá- Night Mama

#nbc good girls #eiza gonzalez #good girls rio #rio imagine #santanico pandemonium #rio fanfic #Rio x Katerina

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joontier · 4 years

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Ramen Rivals

synopsis: Rivals in the kitchen, rivals even with ramen - two rivaling restaurateurs fight over the only cup of instant noodles left in the convenience store

pairings: kim seokjin x reader (oneshot)

rating: R | genre: classic e2l trope; gourmet chef! seokjin and reader ; smut; humor; fluff ; crack | warnings: swearing, explicit sex, kitchen sex, implied bathroom sex, multiple orgasms

word count: 12k RIP MY BRAIN

a/n: Ahhhh, his is actually a re-written version of one i posted way way back 2018 LOOOL idk what to feel anymore after this akfaowiejfoawe the last parts are actually heavily unedited ACK

navi.

Kim Seokjin.

That’s it. That’s the name. That’s the tweet.

You never knew three syllables could affect you this much, could bring you this great distress. The mere mention of it makes you reel, roll your eyes, ball up your fists, makes the tiny hairs on your nape stand on end.

Long story short, Kim Seokjin makes your blood boil.

It doesn’t help either that he was Adonis himself – complete with cat eyes, plump lips, and a dashing smile, or that he has rock-hard abs hiding underneath that white double-breasted jacket, or that he busts out corny ass dad jokes as much as he winks at people (which is a LOT of times, by the way), or that he’s an undeniably an exceptional chef (such as yourself, duh) and has now erected a gourmet restaurant next door to rival yours, OR the completely obvious fact that you two have history.

The short period of time in the past that you shared with him wasn’t exactly one you would be embarrassed of, or something you want to forget. Instead, it’s the exact opposite. You’re ashamed of the fact that you hadn’t gotten over it until now, three years later. He was your OGF – Mr. One Great Fuck. Kim Seokjin still holds the belt for the title of making you cum six consecutive times in a single night. How he managed to do that and how nobody else has measured up to that, you’ll never know.

You’d initially met him at Les Coulisses Du Chef in Paris, where you had enrolled yourself in a patisserie class to expand your knowledge on French pastry and hopefully get a certificate for it. You’d been meaning to take the class since forever, yet you’d been waitlisted year after year until last year when one of the applicants had backed out, they’d called you in, merely half a month before the program started.

Three weeks into the semester, Seokjin had introduced himself to you, or rather, had told you a dad joke as an introductory preview of his personality. You’re glad he did though, else you would have been surprised if you discovered the kid was part Greek god, part chef, part dad jokes, and .01% brain cell.

“What do you call a fake noodle?” asks .01% brain-cell-man seated beside you, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the prominent veins on his forearms. You’re momentarily distracted by the action, completely missing out the question he’d just asked you. “Sorry, what?”

“What do you call a fake noodle?” Gosh, you shouldn’t have asked him again. If only he knew the number of times you’d hear- “Impasta!” He snorts, holding a fettuccine noodle in one hand and the other clutching onto his tummy as he doubles in his laughter.

You’re just standing beside him, slack-jawed, unsure if this was just a sick dare. Who was this guy? Was he even in the same class as you? Was he high? Perhaps he mistook flour for coke? His laughter dies down when he sees your face, sans-reaction.

“Wait, you understand English right? Um… comprendre English? Oui?”

“Yes, I can understand English.”

“Then why didn’t you laugh?” You raise a brow. This stranger just comes up to you, tells you a lame joke, and now he expects you to laugh?

“This is gonna sound real mean, but it was really an old joke...and a lame one at that,” you retort, your face crumpled into one of faux pity.

“Hey! No need to make it personal!” he counters, placing a hand over his heart, face contorting into a grimace. “You, Rafa!” He half-shouts, pointing an accusatory finger to someone behind you. “You said it would be a great ice-breaker!” Your eyes follow the Rafa he’s pointing at, the latter quickly shakes his head, telling you he doesn’t know the man in French.

“Is this man bothering you?” Rafa nods sadly.

“What?! How dare you turn the tables on me?? I’m your only friend!” You turn to glare at pasta guy, who continues to wail behind you. Rafa snorts from across at the sight of pasta guy making a fool of himself behind you and eventually takes pity on him.

“I’m sorry, Jin’s just been meaning to talk to your since the start of semester, so he’s asked me for advice on how to approach you...I told him to tell you a good ‘ole joke in the kitchen since we’re all chefs here...I didn’t actually think he’d take it...seriously.”

“Wow! Betraying and exposing me all at once!! Why won’t you just fry me alive in olive oil, huh? That would be less painful.” Jin-pasta complains, arms gesticulating wildly in the air. You watch them unabashedly bicker in front of you concurrently amused at the whole spectacle.

The three of you become close friends soon thereafter, Jin claiming your trio as the ‘Kitchen Musketeers’. Yes, he managed to convince the entire class to call your tiny group of friends that name. And yes, that wasn’t the worst idea Seokjin had in mind when he was considering a name for your trio. You didn't even want to start to reminisce about the rest of Seokjin’s bizarre suggestions: Charlie’s Cooks (to his defense, you did have a substitute mentor named Charlie), Gourmetbusters, Pecanpuff Girls, The Three Sausagees (more like two sausages and one bun). You’ve always cringed at the last one.

Despite your trio’s antics, Rafa considers himself the third wheel more than anything. Rafael was not oblivious to the crush on Seokjin that you’ve been harboring for months.

It was the day of your graduation from the short course you’d taken - the three of you decided to have a celebratory wine party at Seokjin’s rented apartment. That same night was when you found yourself drunk on pinot noir and Seokjin’s lips. The rest was history.

Finding the bed and the rest of his apartment empty the next morning, you took your leave and fared your walk of shame along the streets of Paris with teary eyes and a bruised heart.

Your Mr. OGF also turned out to be Mr. One God-Tier Fucker. Or perhaps the title also belonged to you, Ms. One Gigantic Fool, who thought that maybe she could have been more than a one-night-stand between two colleagues whose relationship could never be more than a professional one.

Colleagues. The apparent ‘label’ lets out a boisterous laugh at your face. Gosh, you’re a pathetic fucking fool.

Thankfully, your flight back to Korea was scheduled that day as well,, so you wouldn’t have to see Seokjin’s pretty face any longer or rather - what you wouldn’t admit even to yourself - you wouldn’t be able to confront the face of the truth you wanted to hide deep beneath the recesses of your heart.

At least, that’s what you thought.

One and a half years after you got your certificate in Paris, you had finally saved enough money to start your business - a gourmet restaurant situated in the heart of Gangnam. You already had patrons from the restaurant where you previously worked, and the opening of Canapé had garnered more customers than you initially expected.

Business had been thriving for a year, that is, until someone decided to erect a new gourmet restaurant just beside yours. Having a rivalling establishment wasn’t new news to you, neither did it truly bother you as to no longer having the monopoly in gourmet restaurants located in this part of Gangnam.

A week after the opening of your neighbor’s Ambrosia - you decided to bring over a friendly bottle of wine you had shipped straight from France with the hopes that you can become acquainted with your fellow restaurateur.

As you move along the crosswalk and reach Ambrosia’s podium outside intended for the maitre d’, you shift your weight between your legs, an unconscious habit that only Seokjin took notice of. Ridding your thoughts of the man who shall no longer be named, you let your mind wander off to your own worker’s description of the alleged owner.

Out of all your staff’s depiction of Ambrosia’s owner, it’s your sommelier’s and manager’s descriptions that have struck you the most.

Yoongi, your timid sommelier, tells you that the owner was a stout man in his mid-forties with Caucasian features, while your manager, Jinhee said he was a man around your age with a face and built that could easily pass for a K-Pop idol.

You were leaning towards Yoongi’s description because Jinhee would have most likely mistaken a real idol for the owner since there were plenty of celebrities who hung out in Gangnam and would meet up in restaurants like yours. Either way, celebrity look-a-like or not, you were determined to meet your neighbor.

“There’s someone outside, Hobi,” a busser informs the maitre d as he wipes the last table for the day. Three pairs of eyes look at you through the glass.

You continuously peer from the outside as you can’t see much from due to the darkness inside, where only a few dim lights are on. “Go on then, Hobi,” the owner states, nudging the maitre d towards the door.

Hoseok takes a glimpse of you through the glass panel and faces the owner. “Hyung, she seems pretty. Why don’t you do it? You ought to have a proper girlfriend right now. It’s about time you move on from your love interest in Paris! Plus you’re the owner of the restaurant!”

“Hobi, I still have to do kitchen check, remember? And for the record, I have moved on from her. Chop chop.” Hobi gives him an incredulous look, highly doubting his boss had already forgotten about her. “Right away, Mr. Seokdon Ramsay.”

You’re drawn from your thoughts when you hear the melodic sound of the bell as the door opens and a man with a bright smile comes out. “Hello! My name’s Hobi, can I help you with anything?”

“Um..hi! I’m from Canapé just across the street… are you, perhaps, the owner of Ambrosia?”

“Oh! I’m not the owner…I wish I was though if I had someone pretty like you looking for me…” You laugh awkwardly in response, unsure of what you should reply to such a line. The two of you remain standing there, staring at each other. “Um...is the owner there then? It would be nice if I can speak to him or her or them…” you let out a small cough, looking away.

“Right! Of course, sorry about that! I’ll tell him to come out.” Hobi scurries back inside and soon you hear incoherent yelling and laughter from inside the restaurant.

“Hyungnim! Hyung!!” Hobi calls out once more, eyes searching wildly for Seokjin. “What now?” Seokjin emerges from the kitchen with the busser in tow. “Hyung! She’s fucking hot! And I feel like I’ve known her from somewhere…plus she says she’s from our neighboring restaurant! I told you, you were the one who should’ve gone out there. By the way, I think she’s calling wine o’clock too – and the bottle she’s holding looks like expensive French Cabernet Sauvignon!”

Seokjin narrows his eyes at his maitre d, “You seem to have been spending a lot of time with that sommelier from across the street.” The owner of Ambrosia shakes his head at his friend, who pushes him towards the door. “Hurry! You wouldn’t want to keep a pretty girl waiting!”

You’ve been waiting patiently outside, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you watch people come and go. The streets of Gangnam was always lively, and it still surprises you at this point that you had decided to put up a restaurant in the midst of the hustle and bustle of a city like such because you’ve always wanted to erect one by the countryside with the whole organic theme going on. Nonetheless, you were happy with your decision of establishing one in Gangnam.

The bell dings again, and as you turn on your heel to check the much-anticipated owner of Canapé, you nearly drop the pricey bottle of red wine in your hands. It’s Mr. man-who-shall-no-longer-be-named. You’re stood there shell-shocked, mouth agape at the man in front of you.

He hasn’t changed one bit, well, except for the more handsome features. He’s changed his hairstyle too, now opting for an exposed forehead instead of those bangs he’d impulsively cut by his own in the middle of the night. His shoulders remain the same, miraculously; just an inch wider and he could’ve been a great replacement for a meter stick at Encore, the clothing store that offered bespoke clothing just down the road.

“_________?”

Seokjin starts to speak, yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to do the same. There’s too much you wanted to say, ask , and rant about that your mouth remains hanging open awkwardly – almost as if you’re squawking. You bow in embarrassment, apologizing for your behavior and run back to your restaurant.

The Gourmet Chefs Association of East Asia was holding its annual even today at The Andaz Seoul and you just had this gut feeling Seokjin was going to be there. With yesterday’s discovery that your neighboring, rivaling, restaurant was owned by none other than Kim Seokjin himself, you already had an inkling he was invited to GCAEA’s event tonight.

Your suspicions had been confirmed as one of the event’s producers sent you an email earlier this morning, that which contains the list of nominees for the title of GCAEA’s Chef of the Year – the same title that was bestowed upon you just last year. Seokjin was the first nominee for this year’s awarding ceremony.

Kudos to him. Despite knowing that your hatred for him was fueled by more personal reasons, you knew deep down inside the recesses of your brain that he was a really, really talented chef. Probably just as good as you – of course, you can easily admit that you’re still lacking in plenty but you don’t think your pride will allow you to accept defeat from Seokjin just like that after all he’d done.

You only had the chance to look at Seokjin for a good seven seconds yesterday, but it had taken you at least seven hours, a tub of ice cream, and a Captain America movie marathon to reassure yourself that having seen him so close yesterday wasn’t just an actual nightmare.

As much as you hated to admit it, he remained just as handsome as he was three years ago. What you couldn’t get over with though, was how he actually smiled at you yesterday. That little fucker had to audacity to show his perfect little pearly whites at you! All over again, you’re reminded of how he left you in his room the morning after, or how much of a fucking fool you were for having believed that the two of you could’ve been something more than friends.

Rearranging your dress for the nth time today, you take another look at the mirror, twisting and turning to see if there might be some thread hanging off the hems of the dress. You’re starting to question your decided outfit for the night. You had a dress done just for this event – or more specifically, what sort of dress Jinhee had ordered to be sewn just for this event.

It hugged your curves perfectly – the dress a perfect merger between modest and seductive. It had a nude-illusion base with silver sequins sewn onto the thin fabric and a low-cut neckline that gives everyone a lovely view of your cleavage.

This one could easily pass as an evening gown for a Miss Universe candidate. You felt confident, beautiful, and sexy but at the same time you felt like you wanted to just huddle yourself up in your duvet in the corner of your room and eat ice cream. You weren’t uncomfortable with showing skin from time to time, but having been clad in a double-breasted jacket on a daily means it felt strange having your neckline displayed in public.

Your phone dings, indicating a text message. Yoongi had offered to be your chauffeur for this evening, of course, after being coerced and bribed by Jinhee into doing it.

[yoongles 🍷 ] 6:43pm

hurry up, or i’ll leave you behind

[you] 6:43pm

yoongs

It’s MY car WE’RE using

you don’t even have my keys yet

[yoongles 🍷 ] 6:45pm

u get the idea, woman

dont keep me waiting

“Well maybe if you won’t stop texting, I’ll be quicker,” you grumble to your phone, placing it inside your purse so Yoongi won’t bother you any longer. Doing one last twirl in the mirror, you grab your necessities you’ve gathered on your bedside table and sweep them into your purse.

“You clean up nicely, boss.”

Squinting your eyes at Yoongi with his words, you send him a grateful smile nonetheless. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.” This was the closes thing to an actual compliment that you were ever going to receive from Yoongi in your entire lifetime, so you were sure to keep his words close to your heart.

Taking your car keys from your purse, you toss them to Yoongi who catches them deftly with one hand. “Ooh, you looked cool when you did that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You gave me a compliment, so I’m going to give you one in return. As a token of gratitude.”

“Remind me never to say anything to you ever again.”

“Hey! You talk back like that to the woman who’s giving you money for your daily needs?! And you won’t even open the door for me?” you ask your past neighbor-turned-sommelier-turned-close-friend. “It’s called a salary, Ms. _______. And I receive that as compensation because I give you my services in exchange for it. Plus, I’m already seated here,” Yoongi shrugs, adjusting the rear view mirror.

Rolling your eyes, you begrudgingly open the door to your backseat, exerting much effort in swinging one leg after the other with your incredibly tight evening gown. And, of course making sure the short train won’t get caught between the car doors.

Yoongi checks if you’re all good through the rear-view mirror and once he sees you buckle up, he lets the engine roar to life. You take out your phone from your purse to see if you’ve received any other emails, only for the phone to get flung from your hands – including you.

The car surges forward all of a sudden and Yoongi steps on the breaks just in time. You hear Yoongi curse under his breath, looking over his shoulder to check if you’re okay. “Shit! I forgot you drove a Maserati!”

“I think the more appropriate thing to do is to ask me if I’m still okay…Also, it doesn’t matter what kind of car I drive, because I think you forgot how to actually drive at all.” You complain, adjusting the seatbelt across your chest, the sudden jolt leaving a diagonal red mark just by your collarbone.

“Well, you aren’t dead, so technically speaking, you’re okay.” Unbelievable. You let out a loud scoff, unable to think of anything wittier to say. “Just please get me there in one piece, Yoongs.”

You manage to get to the hotel in one piece. Thank heavens.

The small talk you made with Yoongi on your way to the hotel had temporarily taken your mind off the jitters but now that he’s left you standing by the entrance of the hotel, the nerves had definitely returned, tenfold. You’re also unfortunately dropped off at a spot where a standee of yours holding the Gourmet Chef of the Year award is staring back at you. God, you hated that photo. They did not give your eyebrows justice, at all.

You exhale all your nervousness away as you take the steps to the lobby. “_______!” Someone calls out, the voice too familiar to miss out on. “Sunbae!” You turn around to see one of the most revered chefs in Korea, and definitely one of your favorite mentors, Choi Jiyoung. The woman nearing her fifties extends her arms out in greeting and you give her a tight hug. You had worked under her supervision in the past, and she had taught you almost everything you knew about Korean cuisine.

“Ah, it’s been too long darling! Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman!” Misun praises as her grip on you tightens and pulls you by the elbow, “Surely, there’s a lucky man that has swept my sweet _______ by now!” Your senior adds, punctuating her sentence with a wink at the end.

“I’ve been pretty busy these days… and dating hasn’t really crossed my mind recently.”

‘That’s because the last man I’ve wanted to date was three years ago and he’d just considered me a one-night stand and now after I’ve struggled to burn his existence from my memory and to be very frank with you, I really haven’t gotten over him and now he just so happens to be the owner of the restaurant beside mine. Also, he’s stealing my customers.’ Comes your real answer inside your head, but you’ll never tell anyone that.

Jiyoung pouts at your answer, but taps your forearm, “We’ll talk more about that inside. Come on darling, the event is starting.”

Seokjin sees you finally enter the lobby, eyes scanning the few people scattered around the area as you look for a familiar face you could approach. All eyes are on you, yet you don’t notice, like always. You don’t realize how beautiful you are, blushing furiously under the simplest compliments. You’ve got this certain charm that certainly draws people towards you, all the more when they get to know you better, just like what you did to him.

Seokjin remembers the first time he’d actually seen you – on the television. He’d been scrolling aimlessly through the channels, trying to look for something to watch as he waits for the water to boil for his ramen. He’d accidentally stopped by Channel K99’s ‘Choi Jiyoung Kitchen Specials’ reruns during midnight when he checked his phone after it dinged, alerting him of a notification on his email: just another alert to renew his ‘KOREA’ magazine subscription, where he’d secretly get new recipes, try them out, add a little twist, and serve them to his customers at his parent’s restaurant.

As he was about to press the off button on the remote, you enter the frame as the camera pans out when Choi Jiyoung introduces you as her new assistant and protégé. For some reason, this show just got all the more interesting for Seokjin, who’s clearly drawn to you and not the scrumptious seafood platter that Chef Choi was preparing.

He’d followed you on all his social media accounts after that night, even going as far as turning on his notifications for each post you made. He was unsure what had drawn him to you in the first place – whether it be the fact that you were probably the first female chef he’d seen in Korea that was just about his age (that or he really just didn’t pay any attention to women in the same field during the early years of his career), or that you were unbelievably skilled at such a young age with apparently, a lot of culinary awards and certificates under your belt.

Funny enough, Seokjin wasn’t really one to delve into the world of pastry but judging from your most recent Instagram posts during those days, you had taken interest in patisserie, which only caused Seokjin to attempt baking his own first croissant. He finally understood your enthusiastic devotion for it ever since. Then came Les Coulisses Du Chef, where Rafa, an exchange-student-turned-friend of his from his culinary school days had secured him a slot for a semester at the prestigious school of gastronomy in Paris to get a certificate on French pastry.

He wasn’t expecting you though, out of all people, to join the official list of the class as well, last minute.

It took him three weeks before he finally spoke to you, much to Rafa’s exasperation. Seokjin would keep nagging the French man, telling him how much he wanted to talk to you, yet he can’t seem to grow some balls to do so. In annoyance, he’d told Seokjin that the best way to break the ice was to tell a joke – this time, much to Seokjin’s chagrin. He’d never thought secondhand embarrassment was a thing until Seokjin actually heeded his advice and told you about the ‘impasta’. Surprisingly enough, it worked, so voila!

If only you knew how nervous Seokjin was during that time, clammy hands and all. In fact – if only you knew how jittery Seokjin was whenever he was near you. He’s pretty sure he’d ruined his credibility and career after busting out that lame ass joke Rafa had told him, but it turned out to be the only way he actually got closer to you so he was partly grateful for Rafa’s advice – reputation be damned.

Just like tonight, the moment his eyes fall on you, he feels like he’s being drawn back to his room, eyes trained on you as you diligently followed each of Chef’s Choi’s directions, or that time he’d first spoke to you back in your French patisserie class. He diverts his gaze elsewhere from the fear that you might catch him staring.

“Hey, man. Isn’t that ________? The girl you’ve been crushing on since forever?” Minjae asks, elbowing Seokjin at the waist. The latter grimaces slightly in pain, before reluctantly letting his gaze settle on you once more.

Jungkook returns from the bathroom, joining the duo by the reception. “Wow, who’s that?” the younger man asks, nodding towards your direction. With Jungkook being a fairly new member of the association, curiosity is getting the best of him with all the faces he’s seeing.

Similar to a little kid at a toy shop, he’s constantly asking his hyungs if the people he was seeing were the actual people he’d seen on the internet or on the television. Minjae, who indulges every question of the maknae of their small circle of friends with great enthusiasm, answers Jungkook. “That’s _______, Kook.”

“No way! That’s her?! As in the _________?” The only female chef in Korea who received her first Michelin star in her twenties?! As in ________ Choi Jiyoung’s protégé?!”

“Yes, Kook, that’s her alright. And also the same ________ who will hear you soon enough and will find you weird if you don’t keep your voice down.”

“She’s also the same recipient of the award your Seokjin hyung is nominated for this year,” Jiwon adds, wriggling his eyebrows at Seokjin.

“That’s so cool!” Jungkook exclaims as their whole group watches you approach the infamous Choi Jiyoung. “Hyung, do you think she’s single?” Jungkook asks to nobody in particular, considering they were all his hyungs. Minjae and Jiwon glance at Seokjin who returns their glances with a light glare.

“Why don’t you go find out after the party then?” Seokjin suggests, ignoring that certain pang of jealousy that blossoms in his chest at his own proposal.

“Tell me you’re kidding, hyung.”

“Huh?”

“Come on! That’s your girl! You’re going to let go of her just like that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kook.”

“Hyung. I may be the maknae, but I am neither blind nor dumb. Anyone with two eyes and a functioning brain will know you have the hots for her.” Minjae and Jiwon snicker at the younger one’s comment. Seokjin, albeit being second to the youngest, gives them a glare the makes them cower behind Jungkook.

“Am I really that obvious?”

“Well no. But every time we go out, the only notifications that pop up in your screen are her posts on Instagram. Don’t you think that’s a tad bit…pathetic, hyung?”

Ooh and aahs come from the two other men, who are reveling at the harsh bluntness of Jungkook’s words. It’s the maknae who receives Seokjin’s side-eye next. “Need I remind you who’s the older one here?”

“The point exactly! We’re not getting any younger, hyung. Better ask her out now…before I beat you to it.” Seokjin’s mouth falls open in astonishment, while Jungkook just smiles at him in return. “Come on hyung, they’re calling us inside.”

“Well, well, would you look at that stunner over there?” She comments, nodding her head towards someone over your shoulder. There he was, the infamous Kim Seokjin, clad in an all-black ensemble, a single silver chain necklace hanging on his neck. His hair is swept to the side, revealing a bit of his forehead.

“Oh boy.” Jung Chungae fans herself as your greatest rival turns sideways, showing off his side-profile while animatedly telling a story to a fellow colleague seated with them. “Oh how I wish we could just go back to our golden years for just one night!” The rest of the table laughs at Chungae’s comment.

“I personally think you and that man would make a great couple.” Jiyoung says, leaning towards you.

“The other man sat on his right doesn’t seem to think that way though,” Chungae says, picking on her dessert, whispering ‘cute guy from same table’ discreetly. As if on cue, the rest of the ladies, you included, turn your heads towards Seokjin’s table. True to sunbae Chungae’s implications, there was another man beside Seokjin who was staring back at you. You believe Jungkook was his name… nevertheless, you get shy under his stare, averting your eyes back to the presently attractive flower arrangement at the center of your table.

The servers pile inside in pairs, approaching each table to take your dessert plates. You see the host rise from his chair and take the stairs to the stage. He taps the microphone, checking if the audio was working, “To announce this year’s Gourmet Chefs Association of East Asia – Chef of the Year award, may I call on Ms. _________.”

Minjae nudges Seokjin as you stand up from your seat. “Hyung, quit it before other people see you.”

“Come on now, get your ass up and walk her to the stage!”

“She can perfectly walk on her own though?”

“Come on, it’s plus points both for her and the crowd! Give these oldies a show, idiot.”

“N-“

“Hyung, if you won’t do it, I will.” Jungkook says from across the table, eyeing you as you excuse yourself from the other ladies in your table.

Seokjin stares at Jungkook and purses his lips. He discards of the napkin on his lap at once, lightly throwing the piece of cloth on the table. As he stands up, few murmurs of curiosity follow him as he approaches you.

“Ms. ________, may I?” You’re surprised when somebody suddenly appears on your side, offering his arm out for you to hold onto. You hear sunbae Jiyoung quietly cheer you on, nodding her head once to accept Seokjin’s display of manners. The rest of the audience likewise cheers the young man on with a few men whooping and a number of ladies cooing at the sight. Frankly, it wasn’t even that long of a walk until the stage but a part of you was grateful, knowing for yourself that you truly weren’t used to wearing long dresses like these.

As you both reach the stage, with your hand hooked around Seokjin’s elbow, he places another hand atop yours for extra support. The action seems to have the opposite effect. Suddenly all too aware of the proximity between you two, a shiver runs through your spine, secretly hoping the gulp that you make at the sensation goes unnoticed. At the end of the stairs, you give him a curt bow and say your thanks, unable to look him in the eye.

The emcee hands you the microphone and an envelope, containing the name of the awardee. You tap the mic once, then twice. “This is on, right?” The audience laughs in response. “Woops, sorry,” you apologize meekly before starting your half-impromptu, half-practiced speech.

“I’d like to take this opportunity to thank, first and foremost, the board of judges who have bestowed upon me this same award this time last year, and now I have had the greatest honor to announce the awardee later on. I would also like to send my gratitude to all those who have been my mentors here in Korea and overseas – for I have taken your pieces of advice to my heart and they have guided me wonderfully throughout these years, especially sunbae Choi Jiyoung, who has molded me into the woman and chef that I am today. Also, here’s a special mention to Chef Lee for having prepared this wonderful course for us this lovely evening – I absolutely admire how he manages to make Korean staples like Kimchi Jjigae and Pajeon so…flavorful like it’s been made with his entire heart and soul poured into each detail. Wow. Could we have a round of applause for Chef Lee tonight?”

The audience complies quickly with your request while Chef Lee gives you a bow of gratitude by the doors of the event hall.

“Lastly, I would also like to acknowledge the presence of a beloved mentor of mine, back when I took patisserie classes back in Paris – Mr. Frank Boucher, who had, by the way, also prepared his signature Apple Tarte Tatin for our dessert tonight. So without further ado, the Gourmet Chefs Association of East Asia – Chef of the Year award goes to, drumroll please!” Your tongue feels like it got stuck in your throat, but you pull yourself back to reality quick enough so no one else notices.

“Kim Seokjin! Congratulations!”

Seokjin had just barely gotten back to his seat when he hears his name being called. He stands up, beautiful facial features twisted into one of confusion. “You won Chef of the Year bro! Congrats!” Minjae pats Seokjin’s butt briefly before pushing him back towards the stage.

As you hand him the trophy, you give each other a small smile, likewise posing for the cameras. The photographer gestures for you to scoot closer to each other with his hands. It’s getting harder to fake your smile. You wanted nothing more but to go home. Or maybe you could pass by Canapé and take a bottle of wine home for yourself

Thankfully, the awarding the Chef of the Year signals the nearing conclusion of the event, and as soon as you get back to your seat, you send a text to Yoongi, telling him that the event will be over in a couple more minutes.

The event ends quicker than expected, and you find yourself bidding goodbye to everyone else as soon as the emcee officially ends the ceremony. You badly wanted to go home and rest, with only a few hours left for sleep before another work day starts.

You see Yoongi pull up by the entrance after a few more minutes. “How was the party?” You tell him what happened during the event, completely leaving out Seokjin’s appearance and antics. “Let’s just drop you off by your apartment first then I’ll go drive back to the restaurant to grab something.”

“I can go with?”

“It’s fine Yoongs. Besides, we have work in a few hours. You already sleep during work, what more if I keep you awake for an extra couple of minutes tonight?”

Yoongi just shakes his head at you, saying nothing else in reply. He finds you uncharacteristically quiet after a big event like this and wants to ask you about it, but you seem too lost in your thoughts that he doesn’t want to bother you any further. You arrive at his place shortly and as you get down from the car to switch places, you give him a hug and thank him for being your chauffeur. “Oh, and _______? Your French Cabernet Sauvignon is at the third row from the top. And drink at home, please. See you tomorrow.”

Passing through the main entrance of your restaurant, you turn on a few lights by the wine rack to aid your search for the alcoholic beverage. You make a beeline for the wooden structure attached to the wall. Third row from the top… reaching out, you grab on a bottle, reading out its name, ‘Chateau Pichon Longueville 2015 Pauillac’. This will most likely do the trick.

All of a sudden, a knock comes from your door, startling you out of your wits. Quickly, you scurry to the kitchen, looking for something that can protect you in case this person means harm. Your extensive collection of knives is what comes into your mind first, but you wouldn’t want them to be considered murder weapons, in case the worst scenario comes into play.

So you settle for the rolling pin, clutching the cylindrical utensil tightly in your hands. “Who’s there?” you call out, hoping the fear wont seep through your words. “Um, it’s Frank. Frank Boucher. Is that you inside, _______?”

Letting your hands fall to the side, you cautiously near the door, still clutching the rolling pin in your hands. You can’t be too sure nowadays. You sneak a glace through the glass panels to confirm his identity. Breathing a sigh of relief when you see it really was your mentor back in Paris, you set aside the rolling pin and unlock the door.

“_________!”

“Ah, and to what do I owe this pleasure, Chef Boucher?”

“I wanted to talk to you back at the event, but I’m guessing you left early…”

“Um, yes…still a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

“Can I get you anything, perhaps? I- I grabbed a bottle of wine just now… would you like some? Or water maybe?”

“Wine is always a great choice, _______. Also I’m here to tell you something important, but I��ll let you grab two glasses first, for our usage.”

“Of course! Please feel free to sit anywhere you like.”

“Quaint restaurant you have here, ______. This is the same Canapé you told me in your email right?”

“Yep! Would you mind a few crackers and goat’s cheese to go with the wine?”

“That sounds perfect, though you really don’t have to bother yourself with all of that…” You shrug off his comment, reassuring him that it was the least you could do after having taught you so much when you were back in Paris.

You finally get everything ready, one hand holding a plate full of crackers and cheese, while the other holds two wine glasses. As soon as you get seated, Frank takes upon him the honor of opening the bottle, pouring a sufficient amount of the beverage onto your glasses. “I meant to give this to you personally earlier, but I could no longer find you after the party ended.” He hands you a white envelope with your name and Canapé’s address printed at the back.

“You’ve been invited to the Asian Gourmet Conference in the Philippines next week.” You choke on the wine you’re drinking, embarrassingly turning into a coughing mess in front of your mentor. He looks at you expectantly as you open the envelope.

“Wait. This is real?! No way!” Frank laughs at your reaction, excitement evident in your voice as you skim over the words indicated on the paper. “Oh my goodness! This is such a great event! And the opportunities! Please bring the wine home, Chef Boucher! It’s on the house.” The French man laughs harder at your offer, but he doesn’t decline.

“I’m glad you’re this excited, because you’re going with Seokjin.”

Immensely thanking the heavens that you were looking down the whole time while reading the document, else your mentor would’ve seen the instantaneous scowl that graced your face at the mere mention of the-man-who-shall-not-be-named.

You force a smile onto your features before looking back up at Frank. “Kim Seokjin? As in Kim Seokjin who just won GCAEA’s Chef of the Year Award earlier?”

With slumped shoulders, you lean farther backward in your seat. The Asian Gourmet Conference was one of the most anticipated conferences in the whole of Asia. It was an event highly awaited by many in the culinary field, especially one of its main events where they invite gourmet chefs from all parts of the world to compete for the best dish ever and a $200,000 prize.

The contest was another thing though, because two representatives will be vying for each country, so the winning pair will get to come home with $100,000 each. You really wouldn’t have put any thought into who your partner would have been if you were.

Your head fills with dread at the thought of having Seokjin as your partner. It was bad enough that he owns the gourmet restaurant next to yours, and that he’d attended GCAEA which caused more unwanted interactions with him.

“Yes him. From what I’ve heard, people say he’s a rising star, and that his newly established restaurant was getting a lot of good reviews.”

“It’s the restaurant next to mine, chef.”

“Ha! Seems like you’ve finally met your match, darling. Pretty sure that can apply romance-wise as well…”

“Why does everybody keep shipping us?” You wonder, subconsciously vocalizing your thoughts.

“You two look like you have his-…I think… you two would just look great together!”

“Ship? You know what ship means?” You look at him incredulously.

“It’s when you like the idea of two people together right? My daughter says it all time because of these Korean boys with bright hair – actually, when she knew I was going here to attend GCAEA as a guest she kept on nagging me to buy her albums and these sticks…”

“Sticks?”

“Yeah, the lightning ones?”

“Lightning?” You stifle a laugh. “You mean lightsticks, right?”

“Whatever they’re called, _______.” Frank Boucher gives you his infamous glare.

Nearly snorting at the sight of your mentor looking physically and mentally exhausted with trying to keep up with his fangirling daughter, you offer him another bottle because he seems like he needs it more than you do.

Your conversation falls into talking about your current lives and the stresses of running a restaurant, with Frank eventually leading the conversation about the person you’d least likely enjoy talking about. He tells you about your neighboring rival, how he’s done just as well with his own place like what you did with yours. He’s proud that both of his students had established their names in Korea’s gourmet society even at such a young age.

The clocks finally hits ten thirty and Frank takes this as his cue to get going.“Great! Your plane ticket and hotel booking has probably already been sent by my secretary to your email. The convention is only for three days, but the two extra days are on me. Take it as a gift for Canapé’s opening. Go enjoy yourself, _______”

Forcing another bright smile onto your face, you bid your goodbye to your mentor, locking the front door of your restaurant as he leaves. Five days with Seokjin. May the gods have mercy on you.

The four-hour flight to the Philippines had been excruciatingly awkward. To say the least.

You hadn’t talked to each other for the most part. In fact, the only time you had interacted with each other was when you’d waken him up because you had already landed at the airport. The both of you had barely spoken to each other even on your way to the hotel. Occasionally he’d ask you questions that only warranted monosyllabic responses from you.

You’re glad that weariness passed as the only excuse for the lack of interaction. The moment you’d met up at the airport, fatigue had already been evident in both your faces, so your pair had ended up with alternating sleeping schedules during the length of your flight and up to the taxi ride to your hotel.

Only a few words were shared between you when you’ve finally arrived in front of your rooms – something along the lines of ‘good night’ and ‘see you tomorrow’. As you let sleep take over you that night, you pray that everything will go smoothly for the entirety of your stay.

“Lovely afternoon to all of you present here today at this year’s Asian Gourmet Conference!” Excited applause falls amongst the crowd, cheering on different countries, even though they screamed the most for Team Philippines. The host greets the audience and the participants one more time, before proceeding to the guidelines of the event.

“For the first challenge of our main event, we’d like the chefs to cook two staple dishes from their respective home countries – but with a twist! Our chefs will have to use Filipino ingredients only! This is where we put their creativity and talent to the test. To our chefs, please be reminded that we will be giving you an hour to prepare your fusion dishes. While you guys are cooking, I’ll be going around to interview almost fifty chefs who have come from all parts of the world just to join us today.”

You start brainstorming with Seokjin the moment the host leaves the stage. “You’ve been to the Philippines a few times right? You’ve tried some of their food?” your partner asks, turning to you. You’re surprised he even remembered…if you had recalled properly, you had only mentioned it once back in Paris that you did visit the Philippines on occasion.

“Um, yes…I’ve been here a couple of times,” you reply, racking your brain for any Korean dishes that might hold any similarity with Korean staples. “I only remember Sinigang, and Adobe…”

“I’m pretty sure they call it Adobo here Seokjin,” you make no attempt to suppress the giggle the escapes your lips as he mistakes computer software for food.

“But the challenge is only to make our home country’s staples with Philippine ingredients… so this shouldn’t be that big of a fusion problem since rice is also considered a vital part of their meals here…”

“You think good ‘ole Bibimbap will do? Pretty much all the ingredients are available here…What else could we have?” Seokjin asks, taking a notepad and a pen from his jacket. “We can have tteokbokki for the appetizer and bingsu for dessert.”

You get to cooking right after you and Seokjin agree on the ingredients you were going to use. Maybe working with Seokjin wasn’t so bad after all. Not even fifteen minutes into the competition, you see a few girls cheer Seokjin on, ceaselessly calling your partner “Seokjin oppa!” They screams only seem to spur Seokjin on, who’s now showing off his knife skills. You roll your eyes as you shake your head, crushing the garlic a little too hard against the board.

“Jealous much?” your partner asks. You can feel Seokjin smirking beside you.

“You wish, Kim Seokjin.”

“Whatever floats your boat, ________,” he sighs, “If only my partner could also send me words of encouragement rather than staying silent the whole time,” he mumbles to himself, thinking it wasn’t loud enough for you to hear.

“You and I both know this mouth is better at something else.” You turn to him, giving Seokjin a playful wink before setting the ingredients to the bibimbap on one side. He nearly drops the knife he’s holding at your comment, obviously scandalized by your innuendo.

Even with the time racing against you, everything was still going as planned, you just needed to hurry with the final parts of the dishes and you’d be able to beat the buzzer which was bound to ring in less than twenty minutes. That is until the salt container placed on top of this tall arrangement of pots topples over the shaved ice you’ve prepared for the bingsu. You see the ice melt before your eyes, and you quickly move to the container, removing some of the ice that was turning into water.

“Shit! Sorry ________!” He drops the pans he held in his arms onto the sink, scampering to your side afterwards. “Can I help –“

“No! I…It’s fine, Seokjin, just…just go back to whatever you were doing earlier. And please be careful next time.” Seokjin nods curtly, before going back to clean the pans. “______, why does it smell like something’s burning?”

“Fuck!” Cursing under your breath, you hurry towards the pot where the rice was cooking. As you remove the cover, the smell of burnt rice and a failed dish wafts through your nose, causing you to take a deep breath as you attempt to calm yourself down.

Reluctantly, you scoop out the rice that wasn’t burnt and place it onto the stone pot and start plating your bibimbap. Seokjin likewise helps you finish plating the tteokbokki and bingsu in silence.

Needless to say, your burnt rice didn’t make it through the first round. It didn’t mean that you were disqualified from the competition though, but in order to win the cash prize, you will have to make it through all three challenges of the event. That same evening as you take the cab back to the hotel, the despondence in the air is thicker than ever.

“See you tomorrow, ______.” Seokjin says, giving you a small smile as he stops in front of his door.

“Right. See you tomorrow, Seokjin. Sleep well.”

It’s ironic how it was you who actually needed that phrase and not Seokjin. You’ve watched the clock tick away, turned on the television for something to watch on the local news channels which were thankfully spoken in English, you had also resorted to Netflix on your phone, but all to no avail.

Admittedly, you had finished an Iced Americano in fifteen minutes earlier this morning but you figure it’s the entire ‘burnt rice’ accident that’s keeping you awake at this hour. Heaving a deep sigh, you lift the covers off your body, put on a hoodie and headed outside.

You pause by Seokjin’s door momentarily, with the strong urge to knock on his door and apologize for your lack of professionalism earlier this afternoon. Seokjin didn’t really mean to pour the salt over the ice at the event, and the way you reacted was unnecessarily rude.

Seokjin was probably asleep though, and you didn’t want to further embarrass yourself by waking him in the middle of the night. Retracting your hand that was merely inches away from his door, you turn on your heel and decide to apologize to him first thing in the morning tomorrow. Maybe even get him an extra something to show the depth of your regret and guilt.

After having asked the receptionist for directions towards the nearest convenience store, you’re suddenly regretting having worn shorts on your way out – the exposed skin of your legs prickling as the chilly evening air bites at it. Spotting 7-Eleven just across the street, you walk quickly towards the convenience store, desperate to feel warmth in this cold night.

The mellifluous sound of the bell echoes throughout the small store as you enter, that particular smell of convenience stores wafting through your senses. You decide to explore the shop a little, trying to look for something to eat.

Quite ironically, you’ve cooked nearly a thousand dishes in your lifetime, and having to cook another shouldn’t be that much of a burden but when your mind is swirling with thoughts just like tonight, you can’t seem to bring yourself to cook even the simplest dish – like it’s too great of a task to burden yourself with.

So during times like this, you turn to instant noodles, the ultimate lifesaver since your culinary school days. Hopefully no one from GCAEA or the AGC finds you like this, a dignified gourmet chef who’s starting to establish her name in the culinary field, crawling convenience stores in the middle of the night and slurping instant noodles away like it’s her last day on Earth.

You finally get to the noodles section, where you see a man in a hoodie, likewise skimming through the same aisle as you. The receptionist had told you to be wary of sketchy-looking people especially during the wee hours of the morning so you hurry with your own search as you look for a certain brand of cup noodles. Shin Ramyeon.

It should be here somewhere… As far as you’re concerned as a consumer, it’s being exported to over a hundred countries now so it must be here. Going over the entire aisle one last time, you finally see the red cup, reaching over the lone cup of Shin Ramyeon left on the shelf. The problem was, you weren’t the only one who was reaching for it.

Why do those fingers look insanely familiar?

Your eyes widen gradually as you slowly trail them up to see the owner of those hands. Of course, who else could it have been? You call out each other’s name at the same time.

“Seokjin.” “________.”

“You can have it.” You spoke in unison again.

“It’s fine really, you can have it. I’ll just look for another brand,” you tell him, handing over the cup with perfectly controlled reluctance.

“Would you mind if we shared, perhaps?” You stare at him, completely taken aback by his offer. “Or not…I mean- forget I even said that… Here take it.” He hands the cup to you and starts to leave.

“Jin! I- I don’t mind sharing.” Biting on his lip, he attempts to hide the smile that slowly etches into his face as he hears the nickname only you have for him. He turns to face you again. “Okay.” Seokjin gives you a smile, grabs the cup noodles from your grasp and orders you to look for seats while he pays for your shared midnight snack.

Slowly, you trudge towards the limited number of seats they offer at the convenience store and find a spot by the windows. Seokjin arrives at your table a couple of minutes afterwards.

It was now or never. You owed Seokjin an apology after having rudely declined his offer of help during the event, even when the whole fiasco was just an accident. You figure if you don’t apologize for your unjust behavior, guilt is most likely going to eat at you for a very, very long time. Seokjin’s dejected yet still beautiful face will haunt you in your dreams.

As Seokjin busies himself with adding the ingredients onto the paper cup, you take this opportunity to speak up. “Jin,” you start, the nickname sending Seokjin’s heart into another frenzy. “About the bibimbap earlier, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, ________. It was my fault anyway. I should be the one apologizing right now, but…hold that thought for a moment…” He looks away, letting out a sneeze. “….it’s the powder seasoning, sorry… As I was saying, I’d also like to apologize about what happened earlier, I mean if I didn’t try to carry so much, the salt wouldn’t have toppled over.”

“Hey! I should be the one apologizing right now! Stop stealing my thunder!” You pout, begrudgingly taking the small carton of milk Seokjin bought to go with the ramen. You can’t say you aren’t pleasantly surprised at how he remembers this habit of yours too. For some reason, he remembers how you always have milk ready whenever you eat something spicy.

“Anyways… I also wanted to apologize for my rude behavior towards you back at the event. It was an accident, yet I reacted badly and declined your assistance. It was only after the event that I realized that we’re supposed to be helping each other, and not treating each other poorly.”

“Don’t worry yourself too much about it, ______. Besides, we still have two days to redeem ourselves right?” Seokjin sends a warm smile your way, one you cannot help but return.

“What else are you waiting for? The ramen is getting cold and lonely.”

“You sure you aren’t talking about yourself?”

“You know, I’m thinking maybe you should get your own instant noodles,” Seokjin comments, fingers curling around the paper cup.

“Okay, okay, geez.” Throwing your hands up in defense, you thank him for paying for the noodles and the milk before pulling your chopsticks apart and digging in. As you take your first bite, Seokjin suddenly speaks up.

“Is it just me, or I am really very anxious right now…what if someone might see us?”

“Last time I checked, there’s nothing wrong with eating inside a convenience store.”

“No, no. But we’re like… owners…of restaurants…that serve gourmet food…yet here we are, at half past twelve in the morning, sharing cup noodles like it’s the last meal in the world due to a zombie apocalypse.”

“I get how you feel, but I don’t think we’d agree on the zombie apocalypse part…”

The conversation flows naturally between the both of you, like two friends casually catching up with each other’s lives. Seokjin was in the middle of talking when you hear the pitter-patter of rain outside. Tiny droplets of water slide down the glass panels, slowly turning into heavier ones.

You look at each other. “Should we?”

“We can wait this out if you’d like…” Seokjin proposes, though he isn’t so sure he wants to go with his offer either. The sudden downpour doesn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. “Forget what I said, we should leave before this gets worse. Wait here.” Seokjin stands up, goes through each aisle of the convenience store, and returns to where you’re seated. “Damn, they just ran out of umbrellas.”

“We could just run back the hotel…it’s just one crosswalk away.”

“You sure about that? What if you get sick?”

“Let’s just hope we won’t then.” Seokjin gives you a nod in approval. “Before we go out though,” he pulls his hoodie off his torso, giving you a slight show of his abdominals as he raises his hands. You abruptly look away, before nasty thoughts overcome you.

Placing his hoodie over both your heads, Seokjin peers down at you. “Ready when you are.” The quick sprint back to the hotel has you both screaming and laughing at the same time. You weren’t surprised that Seokjin’s hoodie barely served its purpose. You were both drenched from the neck down, attracting unwanted attention from people with your appearance.

With less than a few more steps before you reach your hotel rooms, you feel trepidation bubbling in the pit of your stomach. What’s going to happen now? Were you supposed to forget what happened between the two of you three years ago just like that? Was your midnight ramen run officially a clean slate?

Seokjin has his back facing you, the thin, white material of his shirt clinging sinfully to his skin. Every second spent with Seokjin was the best form of punishment in both ways “Are you going to sleep?” You don’t think that was going to happen anytime soon, now that you’re once again blessed with his visuals and perfectly sculpted body.

Seokjin turns to face you, waiting for your response. You shake your head no, eyes unabashedly staring at the outline of his six-pack. The man lets out a cough, drawing you out of your reverie. “Wanna keep warm for a bit and talk over hot chocolate?”

Why do you get the feeling it’s not just hot chocolate that’s going to keep you warm tonight?

“Sure.” Your voice comes out small, swallowing loudly as he unlocks the door to his room.

The tension in the air is so thick that you’re actually having difficulty trying to breathe normally. Seokjin sets his wet hoodie on the floor before meeting your eyes, pupils already dilated. He momentarily holds his stare, eyes raking all over your equally drenched body. He points a finger sideways, “Hot chocolate.” Subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, you nod, unable to form any coherent words in your head.

As he heads towards the kitchenette, you rub your face with your hands, before placing a hand over your chest. “Calm down, girl. It’s not like you’ve never seen abs before.” This is like Paris all over again, and you weigh the possible outcome of this situation. If you’re reading the signs right, Seokjin is clearly just affected as you are. Are you really willing to wear your heart out on your sleeve like this one more time? You rack your brain for answers, yet all it does is betray you with images of the rippling muscles underneath Seokjin’s shirt.

Ah, fuck it.

“Jin?” you call out as you reach the wall separating the kitchenette. Just as you peek through the divider, Seokjin rakes a hand through his temple, his hair now pushed back and forehead visible. You practically hear your resolve shattering into pieces.

Taking initiative, you close the distance between the both of you, connecting your lips with his in a feverish kiss. He tastes spicy – just like the ramen you’ve shared just minutes ago, but god, your favorite ramen and Seokjin’s lips; if that ain’t the hottest combination in the world – both literally, and figuratively.

You kiss Seokjin fervently like you’re going to crumble if his lips aren’t connected with yours. One hand of his raises to get rid of the scrunchie holding your hair up in a ponytail, and he lets his fingers card through your wet hair gently. The intensity of his kiss practically devours you, his hands grabbing hastily at your clothes. He’s itching to take them off your body, yet you feel the hesitation in his actions, waiting for that sign from you before he can do so as he pleases.

Pulling away to take a breather, you tug your hoodie up and off you, with Seokjin helping you with the task. "You don’t know how much I’ve longed for this, fuck." He seizes your mouth with his once more like a man starved.

Seokjin groans as he finally gets a view of the amount of lace you’re wearing underneath your hoodie. “I’d love to have you in your lingerie another time, but for now, let’s get you naked for me, hmm?” You’re barely allowed a second to fully comprehend his statement about lingerie and another time before Seokjin discards of the red lacy bra you have on and attaching his lips to one of your nipples.

Gasping at the sensation, you arch your back so that you’re practically pressing your chest against his face, greedily asking for more. Hooking a finger inside the waistband of your gym shorts, Seokjin easily tugs your shorts down along with your underwear.

He grabs you by the waist and lifts you up to the counter for his convenience. You shiver slightly when your ass comes in contact with the coldness of the marble. As if on instinct, your legs spread wider, seemingly inviting him to come closer to you.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that?”

“Mhmmm,” your words are muffled as you ardently kiss him. Seokjin brings his lips back to your breasts, biting and pulling at one while the other gets kneaded under his palm. Equally just as impatient as you are, Seokjin lets a hand trail in between your bodies, tentatively brushing against your core to gauge your reaction.

Your body quakes in anticipation, and Seokjin teases you even further by slowly rubbing the pad of his finger on your clit. “Jin, please,” you beseech. “Gotta prepare you first, baby girl.” Letting your head fall back at the sensation (and the pet name!), Seokjin decides to give you what you want, seeing as though you were wet enough that taking his cock right now won’t be a problem. He finally slides a finger inside, your body trembling at the intrusion. God, it’s been too long.

Okay, honestly speaking, you really didn’t take interest in another man when Seokjin entered your life three years ago, and now that you’re back here in this compromising situation with his finger sliding in and out of you languidly, you feel like you could just cum at the thought of it alone.

Seokjin adds another finger, continuing the pace. You moan wantonly as Seokjin curls his fingers, your velvety walls clenching around his digits. He can tell you’re getting close, but he knew it wasn’t enough.

Without having to slide his fingers out of you, Seokjin grabs at one of the chairs and pulls it towards himself so he can sit.

He hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you closer, merely centimeters away from your cunt. Your cheeks are set ablaze at his brazen action, opening your mouth to say something, falling speechless yet again as Seokjin’s lips come in contact with your nether lips. The man licks a bold stripe along the length of your folds, your hands instantly finding purchase on his hair as you’ve got nothing else to hold on to. He repeats the action all over again, this time adding his fingers to slide in and out of you and toy with your clit. A few more licks and a particular curl of his digits, Seokjin makes you cum for the first time again in three years, so hard that you’re body’s trembling even after he sets your legs down

You’re breathing heavily, resting your forehead on Seokjin’s temple. “Mind taking a shower with me? It’s important to bathe after running the rain” Seokjin looks up at you, eyes pleading.

“I would, if I’m still able to walk.”

“Who said you were going to walk?” Seokjin maneuvers you on top of the counter, placing his hands under your knees and on your back, carrying you bridal style towards the bath. As soon as he settles you down onto the tub, he turns the faucet on and leaves you there for a moment, telling you that he was just going to grab something from his luggage.

You rest your head against the edge of the tub as you wait for Seokjin. You slowly feel exhaustion taking over you, but when you hear Seokjin’s muted footsteps against the carpeted floor, your eyes pry open only to see Seokjin in his boxers, holding a bath bomb in his palm. You gulp. This was going to be one hell of a night.

Just like before, Seokjin has you cumming thrice in the bath, once when he took you from underneath, making sure that the water fell perfectly on your clit for added stimulation as he slid his length in and out of you. He’d made you cum when you rode him as well, water sloshing everywhere at your naughty shenanigans in the bath. Even after two orgasms, Seokjin just won’t quit, having bent you over as you faced the wall, pounding you from behind.

Seokjin, with his libido seemingly running 24/7 tells you he wasn’t done with you just yet, saying he’s still got three years worth more of fucking to give you. He wanted to give you the most unforgettable sex of your life, and boy, was he adamant about it.

Seemingly not having had enough of you yet after helping you scrub almost the whole expanse of your skin, he finds himself getting hard again at the sight of you in just his shirt and nothing else. You meant to sleep by that time, but as soon as Seokjin spooned you, you’d felt his clothed erection already grinding against your ass. You no longer kept count of how many times he made you cum.

The sunlight peeks through a tiny slit through the curtains, the heat perfectly hitting your face, causing you to wake up. Your body is sore all over, and as you roll to the other side while stretching out your limbs, you spot next to you empty.

Of course. You’re a fucking dumbass.

Hastily grabbing your clothes strewn across the floor, you head out of his room, tears already brimming in your eyes. Your vision is getting blurry by the second, and you angrily swipe at your cheeks as you feel a singular tear roll down. As you curse Seokjin under your breath, you bump into none other than the devil himself. “Oh! You’re awake?”

You don’t answer, stepping aside so you could go back to your room and rethink your life decisions.

“Where are you going, _______?”

“Out of your room, and hopefully out of your life as well.”

“Wait - ______! What are you talking about?” Seokjin extends his hand to grab your arm.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Seokjin.” The venom laced with your words makes him reel, retracting the arm he had held out to reach you. “I really never meant anything to you, hm? Fuck, I have probably reached desperation to return back into your arms that easily.”

“Desperation? That’s all it was last night? And the one three years ago?”

“I should be the one asking you that question!”

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? Are you really that fucking dense, Seokjin? You were the one who left me alone in the room that morning, and now you’ve done it again. Congratulations on having a new notch on your belt. And I’m a fucking fool for even thinking you felt otherwise!”

“You think I left you that morning?”

“I’m not done yet—what did you say?”

“You were the one who left that morning!”

“I did not! When I woke up, you weren’t there, nor were you anywhere inside your entire apartment! Do you know how embarrassing that was!” You pause, lips trembling, “F-For someone who actually meant something to you only seeing you as just some one-night stand?! Someone who you could use to get your dick wet?!”

“You like m-“

“You’re missing the entire point here, Kim Seokjin!”

“What’s happening here?” A raspy voice asks, the familiar mop of curly hair coming into view. Rafa?

“Oh my god! You like me, fuck! I could just kiss you right now!” Seokjin doesn’t even hesistate, already leaning towards your face and connecting your lips. You almost melt into his arms at the sensation, but you pull away just as instantly, tears freely rolling down. “Am I really just a joke to you, Jin? Have you ever even taken into consideration my feelings, even once?”

“______, darling. This is all a misunderstanding. Well, I did leave that morning, but I just went out to Rafa next door to shower. I—you looked so peaceful as you slept that I really didn’t want to bother waking you up to tell you that I can’t shower with cold water and it’s like déjà vu all of a sudden and…wait!” Seokjin drags poor Rafael who’s still looks like he’s half-asleep. “Rafa can verify the truth!”

Rafael sighs, once again caught in the middle of something he no longer wants to be a part of. “It’s true, ______. This guy’s pretty much in love with you. It’s just an unfortunate fact that this same guy has plenty of annoying habits that gets him in trouble most times. Just like not being able handle water that is below 26 degrees Celsius.”

You’re looking back and forth Seokjin and Rafa, trying to study their features if they’re being questionable or not. Finding no trace of mirth in their eyes, you turn to Seokjin. “You really didn’t leave me that morning and… today?”

“No. I could never. I’m a fucking dumbass for not thinking about what you could’ve felt that time and today…or telling you that I was just heading out to Rafa’s to shower because for some reason my heater isn’t always functioning…”

“Glad to know you’ve finally acknowledged that you’re a bloody idiot.” Rafa speaks up, narrowing his eyes at Seokjin, taking a sip from his mug. Since when was that in his hands? Rafa sees you stare at his mug, and answers your silent question, “Was planning to drink this while it was hot earlier but I don’t see anything wrong with drinking cold coffee while watching a live action soap opera.”

“Funny how a night of fucking like wild rabbits can do so much to people,” Rafa adds, scoffing as he retreats back to his room. You lean your head towards Seokjin’s chest, embarrassed out of your wits. Seokjin puts an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. “Don’t mind Rafa. He’s just jealous.”

“I can perfectly hear you, Kim Seokjin!”

#bts smut #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #btswritingcafe #btsguild #hyunglinenetwork #ksmutclub #bts fluff #bts angst #kim seokjin #bts jin #jin smut

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nebraska-is-a-myth · 4 years

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Mourn the living, raise the dead - Part 8

Sorry for such a long wait for this chapter, please don't kill me

Masterlist

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Tommy has had to do a lot of mourning in his short time on earth. For years he mourned the loss of a mother he never met, and the normal life he never had. After that he mourned the loss of friends and family when his father took him halfway across the world to live in some shitty American apartment, which eventually led to the mourning of his dad. Killed in a car accident and leaving Tommy orphaned at the age of 11. He mourned every single failed foster placement until he eventually found solace in the shadow of Technoblades power and willingness to let scrawny little 15 year old Tommy into his life. But good things don't like Tommy. They let him think that maybe this time it will be better, and then everything crumbles before him and he's back to square one. Alone. Another piece of his heart breaking from the hurt. So when he was forced to mourn Technoblade, Tommy had given up any hope that happiness would find him again. Even when Dream took him in and proved to him time and time and again that he wouldn't leave him, Tommy never really let himself be happy in fear of losing everything all over again. But something inside him changed when he met Tubbo. Tubbo was sweet and kind and chose Tommy over everyone else and he never could quite comprehend why someone like Tubbo would choose someone like him. Countless times Tommy had kept on trying to distance himself from the other boy, but every time Tommy was in a bad mood or tried to push him away, Tubbo always seemed to find him with a hug and a smile (and all the proper tools to cause some chaos, weather that be hotwiring a car or setting an abandoned house on fire, where there was a Tubbo, there was a crime) Tubbo forced himself into Tommy's life and chained himself to Tommy. Physically and metaphorically. So over time, Tommy learnt that maybe letting people in wasn't so bad after all. Wilbur, Fundy and Eret came into his life all at once and one by one they all became his family. Something Tommy never thought he would have in this life. He felt loved for the first time since he moved out of his home town, and maybe he would be okay with everything that had happened in his life if it meant it would lead him to this point.

Mourning Eret seemed different.

Tommy felt empty and hollow, like a piece of him had drowned with his friend. Parts of what happened are still blurry to him, but he remembers the pain he felt when he realized Eret would never hold him again. He wouldn't be able to tell him to shut up when he told nonsense stories or chase him around town after stealing something when they were supposed to be out grocery shopping. He wouldn't be able to comfort Tommy after a nightmare or play silly games with him in Wilbur's living room. All he could feel was the pain in his chest and the rasp in his throat after crying into the night. Funnily enough, all his physical injuries were gone. His leg had healed past the need for his crutches almost as if there was never any damage there at all. (“Are you sure you're not in any pain Tommy.” “Yes Will I'm bloody sure now stop poking me”) Mourning Eret felt like a punch to the guy or a black eye, he almost wishes someone would punch him just so he could feel something other than the overwhelming sadness that's taken over him.

Wilbur became his rock in the hours after it happened. First Tommy was mad at the older man after dragging him out of the water, but then Tommy just cried into Wilbur's shoulder and he hasn't really left his side since. He doesn't know whether it's because he doesn't want to be alone, or if he’s afraid that he’s going to lose Wilbur too.

They don't get much time to process everything before everyone is thrown back into the reality that they are still going to war in less than a day. (Tommy barely has time to search the smoldering rubble of Wilbur's office for Erets spare glasses before they’re all called back into training and preparations. The glasses are scratched and a little damaged but Tommy just slips a chain around his neck and wears them proudly around his chest) There isn't time for a proper funeral, not yet. Tommy doesn't really like the idea of having to bury an empty coffin either, so for now the remaining four pay their respects by setting Erets car ablaze. Fundy came up with the idea, sort of reminiscent of a Viking funeral. None of them could bear to sit in it any longer without bursting into tears, so after making the final preparation for their confrontation with dream smp the following day, they all ride out to the beach and park the car on the cool sand. Nobody's left in the city to stop them. Once the sun has set and the stars have come out, Wilbur lights the match and the car goes up in flames before them, along with memories of one of their closest friends.

They all lie in the sand together for a while, looking up at the night sky and reminiscing about the good times when everything was so much simpler. When Eret was alive.

“Do you remember Fundys birthday, when we all went bowling and Tommy almost got us arrested?”

“I did not almost get us arrested Tubbo.”

Tommy has his resting against Wilbur's midsection as the older man strokes his fingers through the blonds hair, he feels Wilbur chuckle and he thinks he can almost hear him smile.

“You absolutely almost got us arrested, we practically had to sprint out of that bowling alley.”

“Okay so maybe I shouldn't have thrown myself down one of the lanes, but I needed that strike and Fundy was cheating!”

“I was not cheating, if anyone was cheating it was Eret!”

They don't mean for it to go silent, but the wind steals their conversation every time their friend's name is mentioned. But this time, Tubbo doesn't let it get carried away into the night.

“Do you think he’s up there, looking down on us?”

Wilbur doesn't know how to answer, he continues to stroke his hand through tommy's hair and thinks for a moment. He never really believed in heaven or hell, or the afterlife, just a big vast void of nothingness. But as he stares up at one of the brightest stars in the sky, he sees the way it sparkles at him, almost as if it's looking down onto his little family of four, protecting them from what's to come. In that moment, every thought about the afterlife leaves him, and all he can focus on, is the way the star looks at him.

“I think, in some way, yeah, he is. He’s also probably shouting at us for destroying his car.”

He hears the other three chuckle and he smiles up at the star.

Wilbur was never any good at science when he was a kid, but he knows that stars don't just disappear. He knows that stars can fizzle out, and they can burn for over hundreds of years, but they're always there. He finds comfort in knowing that if he ever misses his friend, he can just look up at the stars and everything will be alright.

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The next day the remainder of L’manburg stands tall against the leaders of the dream smp on the outskirts of the city. Sapnap is standing with a gun already in his hands to greet them and Tommy can hear Tubbo swallow his fear. Tommy can feel Dreams eyes on him the second he comes into eyeshot, but Tommy's face remains impartial to the older man. George sniggers when he sees Tommy wearing the ugliest looking sunglasses and almost makes a joke about the boy stealing his brand, but Dream beats him to it.

“Gentlemen, have you made your choice.”

Dream hopes with all his heart that they choose defeat. He doesn't want to fight l’manburg for power or land or money, he wants to run away with his tail between his legs if it means he doesn't have to raise his gun at any of them. But George and sapnap are twisting his arm behind his back, if he doesn't do this then he’ll be kicked from the top spot in the food chain. And even though he doesn't care for social hierarchy, if George or sapnap were in charge, chaos and death would flood through the city. He doesn't want to fight Tommy, or Wilbur, or anyone for that matter, but if it means sapnap or George wont gun them down without a second though, he will pretend that fighting them is what he wants.

“You have taken everything from us dream, even when we thought we had nothing left you took our oxygen and you left us to suffocate. If it means laying down our lives today for independence, then so be it. But that blood will be on your hands.”

Dream wants to stop this, to stop everything now before it's too late. But he sees the fire burning in sapnaps eyes and his throat goes dry.

“How does it feel by the way, does Erets death feel good on your conscious Dream.”

George lets out a high pitch laugh and even sapnap seems to crack a smile.

“Its not fucking funny you-”

“Not now Tommy.”

Wilbur silences Tommy and turns back to the masked man.

“Independence, or death. You chose dream.”

Sapnap steps forwards and points his gun at fundys face.

“Well if you insist.”

Dream raises his hand and sapnap lowers his weapon, disappointment clearly hung across his face.

“Before all that nonsense, do you mind if we call in one more person, wouldn't want it to be an unfair fight now would we.”

As George finishes speaking a red sports car comes revving into view from behind the dream team, Wilbur wants to vomit at how George looks excited by it all. When the car stops just behind the trio, the team watches the driver's side open and sees Punz step out of the car. Wilbur finds it strange how he doesn't seem to be carrying any weapon, and he clearly lacks the same body armor as the rest of his team.

That is until the passenger door opens.

And Eret steps out of the car.

#dream team #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #tubbo #fundy #the eret #dream smp war #crime au #technoblade is mentioned

108 notes · View notes

haiyuta · 5 years

Text

|| sugarbaby.com || bang chan

Summary: Struggling college student Y/n is on her last year of college as the bills stack she’s in a tough situation. Her roommate recommends her a website for local sugar daddies. That's where she meets Mr. Bang Chan a producer who is just a nice guy that has a lot of money.

word count: 5.1k || genre: smut, lots of smut, kissing, dry humping, light choking, praise kink, soft dom chan, like soft, like he’s a caring daddy btw, light barely their daddy kink.

a/ n: the end plot is so sloppyyyy but I put lots of plot and love and smut this could be better but its 5k of hard work so enjoy yall~

Chewing on your lip you eyed the website your finger hovering on and off the signup button.

Sugarbabys.com the website read on the front page in a quote read "where sugar babies meet high-quality Sugar daddies".

Taking your finger away you gave it a thought all the scenarios going through your head. What if it didn't go well? What if the men were creepy? Your friend already gave you tips 'meet in a public place' 'only if you want to you have to' things like that.

Your bank account was desperate though. Between school and working, you were left with little money. Lingering in the back of your brain you knew you couldn't the reality of having to borrow more money from your friend making you cringe.

Were you desperate enough for money to even sign up for this site? It was something you considered before knowing a few girls who used the website your roommate included for a while until she got what she wanted her debt paid off.

'Its easy just sign up it couldn't hurt' she explained to you. You grimaced it could hurt the many thoughts popped up in your head bad and good.

Your finger hovered over the signup button with great reluctance decided to sign up. Entering your email and information you looked at the rules. It was simple enough the men contacted you based on profiles near them. They recommend you do a date in public for safety reasons etc.

Some of the profile content was questions like the financial level you needed and what you could provide and some small information about yourself.

Your fingertips hovered over the keys writing some info about yourself.

"Hello I'm a graduating student soon with ambitions to join the workforce soon financial help would be the main and I am very open with new options and experiences"

Finishing off with some fun facts age and a pretty picture your friend took of you. etc you clicked the finished profile you sat back looking at the website shaking your head you closed your laptop work was going to be early tomorrow.

You didn't check the website but a lingering message sat in your inbox.

As the week went on it a few messages popped in your inbox with a variety of guys some seeking immediate sex for money, some promising you the world but then there was one message.

Bang: Hello I'm sure you got many messages you're very pretty I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me. I'll pay of course and see if we are matchable. If not just ignore this.

The message made you quirk your eyebrow it felt real and raw in a way the others didn't. And with no picture, you decided to go and message 'Bang' back.

You: Thanks for messaging me I would love to just send your phone number and I'll talk to you more.

Nerves in your stomach grew as you waited for his message. A night went by until his reply.

Bang: Thanks so much here's my number can't wait to talk to you more :)

You've been texting back and forth with Chan for a week till he scheduled a date setting a date that was good for both of you.

You were nervous your stomach turned with butterflies, the restaurant you were in was a fancy Italian restaurant downtown it had deep mood lighting with a clean crisp look to it.

"May I help you," the hostess gave a kind smile.

Shifting in your tight black dress your own but the gold necklace with a nice handbag were thanks to your roommate. "Um yes," you said nervously "I have a dinner date with Mr. Bang," you said.

Looking at the list she nodded "oh yes he's waiting for you," she said leading you to the back.

Walking through the restaurant your stomach twisted leading towards the table. Questions ran through your mind. Why were you even doing this? It was to late to back down now you thought.

"Here you go," she gestured to the table. Laying your eyes on him you were slightly taken aback at his appearance. He was handsome.

Looking up from his phone a handsome smile lit his face. Slipping the device into his pocket he got up quickly.

"Let me," he gave a sheepish laugh moving toward you. The smell of his cologne filled your senses it was nice really nice.

"Thank you," you said sitting putting your loaned clutch on the table. Drinking in his features you noted he had sandy blond hair, deep dimples, and perhaps an accent. Dressed simply in a black button-up and black jeans expensive chan sat handsomely on his neck.

An awkward silence filled the table until he chuckled "I'm sorry I didn't even introduce myself I use Mr. Bang on my profile but you can call me Chan," he said. Yup, definitely an accent you noted.

His friendly smile radiated causing you to let a small smile "I'm Y/n thank you for taking me out". More like thanks for messaging me and taking me to a restaurant normally college boys would take you out to the best they could do. A local taco joint close to the university which was amazing but you did yearn for something romantic.

"You were beautiful I had to," he flirted with a charming smile. Stomach knotting at the word beautiful and how his foreign accent whispered them out.

"Thank you," you beamed shifting in your seat. The more you talked to him the more comfortable you became with him.

"So, you work in the music industry," you asked wanting to get to know him. Quickly thinking of his profile on the website. Young, producer and money to spend. The website though matched you and you couldn't directly message them until they choose you. Chan would be snatched up quickly if any sugar baby could choose.

"I do I'm a producer I also sing and rap a bit," he explained, "its something I like to do a lot" he added.

"That sounds like a lot of fun," you giggled poking at your food already full from the soup and salad but wanting more.

"It's long hours of editing and writing music," he perked up his eyebrow you noted he had a small cut in his eyebrow. "Hearing my music be sung by artist and people loving my lyrics is all worth it."

"But it's my passion but sadly my passion is mostly inside so it's hard to meet people," he explained eyeing you.

"May I ask why a guy like you would be on a sugar baby website," you said hoping you weren't overstepping your boundary. "I mean not that you can't be on these sites," you quickly blurted out feeling warm at the question you asked.

He laughed a little "I'm not a 40-year-old businessman with a wife and kids," he smirked out.

"Kind of," you trailed off staring at him.

"Well some of my friends were doing it recently saying they met some great people," he said "I also like showering my girl with money might as well see if this will work." he finished.

"Ah okay," you hummed eating some food.

"I'm just a nice guy who has a lot of money," he grinned his cheeky dimple popping out.

You snorted at the comment "wow," you laughed a little.

"Sorry was that cringy," he gave a sheepish smile.

You nodded covering your mouth trying not to laugh out loud.

"Anyway what about you," he asked.

You explained a bit about yourself adding what he needed to know you were almost out of college the struggle to finish was getting harder. He understood explaining he came to Korea from Australia looking for a fresh start. He found his talent when he sold one of his songs for the first time. You were shocked that it was called "Why so lonely" a classic a song that use to be on your freshman playlist every day.

The experience was new but something you would soon treasure a good conversation a lovely meal and getting money for it.

"Did you like the meal," he asked eyeing you placing his black card in his wallet writing down a quick tip.

"It was amazing," you gave a gentle smile. A little bummed this dinner had to end. Also anticipating if he wanted to continue this.

"May I drive you home," he asked giving you his arm. You smiled nodding slipping your arm through his arm.

The small private parking lot on the side as you browsed the expensive cars till you landed on his BMW with admiration a beautiful car that fit his aesthetic. Playful yet luxurious. Sliding into his car you shivered at the cold leather seats.

"Where do you live," he asked.

"Student apartments right next to the university," you explained "just that general area," you said hitting yourself of how dumb you sounded.

The car ride had light chatting he played some music from he wrote. You were shocked to find out it had some of your favorite artists under it. Learning he did some music for a trio group named 3racha.

Coming up to your apartment you sighed glancing at him "thank you so much," you paused letting out a soft "sir" at the end of it.

A moment passed over the both of you until Chan let out a laugh "Sir," a deep cute laugh.

A blush went to your cheeks at his laugh"You're cute enough you don't have to try okay," he assured his you pressing his hand to your cheek gently.

Your face was warm but his hand felt warmer. "Sorry about that," you said softly cringing at yourself. How natural this felt was amazing.

"May I kiss you," he whispered out his lips so close.

Your eyes connected to his light brown eyes your lips wanting to touch his "please."

It was a swift moment as his lips capturing your own. It was soft as he greedily consumed your kiss you were shocked at how good it was to be kissed.

Pulling gently apart your eyes flickered to his noting his eyes were so warm and deep you could drown in them.

"Um thank you for everything," you said feeling warm and frazzled at him. Opening the car door you could feel your heartbeat a little faster and your mind swirl with want.

"Your welcome baby girl," he winked watching you with as you trailed yourself up the steps and into the apartment building.

Its been a few months since your first date with Chan. Honestly, it felt too good to be true. Soon as got home he texted you some information and the next thing that morning a pretty number with 4 digits now sit in your account.

It took all your will not to scream in a pillow at the money. That's what you make in a month for a date.

As the relationship continued Chan was giving you money for your attention dates, kissing, sex all of the above. Honestly, he could pay you nothing and you would still jump at the opportunity to sleep with him. You shuttered a little thinking of the sex simply put it was amazing.

Some basic rules were gently inforced. 1. You or have the right to end it at any time 2. Stressed the fact that this was an exclusive relationship. Light rules but Chan was very laidback.

Currently, you were in a store way too expensive well use to be way too expensive picking out a dress that would look good for this event with Chan. "This one," you hummed walking out in a cream-colored dress. It hugged your ass but the color was sort of off-putting.

Chan sitting on the seat in the private dress area leaning back his hair messy and untamed with a touch of curls. Your fingers always itched to touch those curly locks.

"I don't love it," he hummed eyeing you up and down. "Just the color it looks amazing on you though," he grinned. Sitting next to a pile of dresses that you both didn't like very much.

You frown this was the fifth dress you've tried but to be honest you didn't love it that much either.

"Okay I have a few more," you bit your lip as you went back to the dressing room. The event was tomorrow night performance of some underground rappers and Chan said he might perform with 3racha if he had time. Being on his arm for this event was important.

You shyly claiming you didn't have many dresses for something like that.

Sipping into the dress that caught your eye the most a deep rose gold dress with just a touch of sparkle. Eyeing yourself you smiled at how the dress fit you the price tag with the glaring 1k on the tag.

Slipping out the dressing room your gazed landed on Chan his eyes ran up and down your body. "Wow," he whispered out getting up to inspect the dress. "Do you like it," he asked placing his hand on your hip.

"I love it," you paused eyeing you and Chan in the mirror admiring how you looked and how he looked next to you. His eyes glazed with lust. "It's pricy though," you hummed looking at the price.

Chan leaned over kissing your temple "you know I'll buy it for you," he grinned pushing his hips closer to you.

"You spoil me," you hummed posing lightly in the mirror. It complimented your skin the way it fell made you feel utterly amazing.

"You look beautiful," he said pressing his body against yours. His chin resting atop your head as he stared at your dress in the mirror. You giggled at the reflection. He looked at you with an admiring lust-filled look. You perked up when you felt his bulge pressing against your ass.

Glancing at him through the mirror his deep brown eyes basically told you what he wanted. You've had sex with Chan before and to say the least you would fuck this man for free. You were just lucky enough he was paying your tuition with a sweet payday every other Friday.

You pushed your ass into him feeling his eagerness waiting for you. "We shouldn't," you hummed glancing at him. Leaning over he hummed his lips connecting with your neck. You sighed at the kisses leaning away for more access.

"We just need to be quiet," he whispered in your ear. Grabbing your hand he lead you to the small bench settling you on his lap.

His lips captured yours hungrily your mouths moved in a gentle rhythm. Pulling away Chan looked at you grabbing your exposed thigh placing you across his jeans. "Come on baby we don't want to wrinkle this beautiful dress up," he said pushing the dress up.

A small mew slipped out of you at the feeling of Chan lightly bouncing his leg. Wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself you moaned as he added more pressure to your clothed slit.

Your body was heating up at the feeling "come on baby girl," Chan whispered in your ear. Biting your lip you squeezed your eyes closed feeling your stomach twisting at the sensation. God, he got you off so good your mind raced with want.

Clenching your thighs around his you gave a soft moan as you rocked against his leg. The lewd act of humping his leg made your stomach twist with want.

Chan let out a light chuckle you gave him a small embarrassed glare at your current position. "Don't pout you look adorable," he gave a small smirk. "We better finish this off before we are found," he grinned as he proceeded to bounce his leg.

You were already damp as it seeped into Chan's black jeans. Pushing your head into his neck you let out small whimpers as you got closer to the edge. Ready to fall any moment but Chan holding you so tight you never wanted to let go. Pushing down on his thigh you gave a deep moan as you desperately humped his leg.

Leaning over you placed your lips moaning in the kiss. Your eyes twisted shut as waves of heat rolled down your body.

Chan pressed his lips hard against you as you sloppy kissed him. You came down from your high it took a moment but you felt Chan hand run up and down your back.

Biting your lip you gazed up at him giving him a light smile "we should get out of here," you hummed pushing your dress back down and getting up,

You lightly grimaced at his leg with had a decent size wet mark on them. "Fuck sorry," you said also eyeing his bulge.

He hummed grabbing your hand "don't worry about it lets just buy the dress and go back to my place," giving you a wink.

Your stomach stirred thinking of going to his house with him laying in his bed as he pushed your deep into his sheets "Let's," you grinned eagerly.

"How does it look," you asked your roommate coming from your room in the dress you bought last week. It took a dry clean to get the smell of sex from the dress but it still looked clean and new.

Her gaze went from her phone taking a double-take at your dress. "Look at you in that dress," she hummed. Smiling you gave a small twirl the gold shimmering.

"I know I love it so much," you hummed going to the mirror to check your makeup and hair.

"So Y/n how's Chan," she said leaning on the couch her eyebrow raised at you.

"He's good he's taking me to a club tonight," you said.

She nodded "so you don't have feelings for him or anything right," she hummed out looking at you.

Pausing you stared at your eye makeup looking at her through the mirror image you felt your heart leap "of course not he pays me," you told her.

"Yeah I mean your college semester is almost over when will you break it off," she asked. You paused wondering if you would. You did get mostly what you wanted. Clothing, money, your schooling has been paid up to last semester. The thought of breaking it with Chan made your stomach drop.

Before you could answer you heard your phone ring. Grinning you picked it up avoiding your roommates grilling question.

"Hey baby are you ready," Chan spoke.

Glancing at your makeup and outfit you looked good. Shyly remembering what you did in this dress earlier that week. "Yeah I'm good," you hummed out.

"Great I'm downstairs," he said.

"Okay bye," you said clicking off the phone.

Your roommate was still looking at you "you're like into into him," she commented.

"I'm into his money," you easily lied to yourself. The money was great the clothing, the tuition all was amazing. But Chan as a person he was the best of all the gifts. Repressing these growing thoughts was the best you could do.

"Sure you are," she said pulling out up her Netflix. "Just let me know when you move into with him so I can find a new roommate," she teased.

Rolling your eyes you stuck out your tongue "will do but won't happen," you said leaving.

"Have a nice night," she called out.

"Thanks," you yelled back leaving. Your stomach turned excited to see Chan. Hurrying downstairs you quickly came outside to see Chan leaning on the side of his car. You eyed him loving his outfit.

"Hey," you grinned going to him wrapping your arms around his neck. Your eyes held his from the told of his dirty blond hair to the way he had a smile chain around his neck and his signature black style.

"Aw you missed me," he grinned a small dimple popping out.

"Always," you flirted back.

Giving you a quick peck he opened the door for you. The drive to the small club was nice his hand firmly on your thigh as he navigated the roads driving up to the club.

"You'll meet some of my friends just fellow producers," he explained. The word date stuck to your brain well you were his date. The words girlfriend would be amazing to hear out his mouth.

"Do your friends have any sugar babies," you asked out the blue. Remembering he told you months ago some of his friends use the site.

He pursed his lips "some do some have two or more," he explained closing the door on the side parking.

Taking his arm nerves bubbled up in your stomach as you entered the low lit club. It was loud with live music on the stage was a male he had dark black hair with deep black makeup and he was rapping.

"That's Jisung he's a close friend and producer," Chan said leading you toward the back. The club was lowkey as people enjoyed the fast rapper on the stage.

"He's really good," you called out to Chan.

He nodded "yeah we are underground rappers are normally producers but we like to stay out of the limelight," he added. "I'll be on stage in a bit hope you'll cheer for me," he grinned.

"Always," you grinned. Sipping on the drink you were introduced to lots of people Felix an upcoming solo artist in the company.

"Time to get on stage baby girl," Chan hummed giving you a light kiss on your lips. His eyes lingered on you for a moment "After my set will get outta here," he said.

"Sounds good," you replied.

Felix stayed next to you as you two chatted while Chan was in the back. "Yeah, Chan told me a lot about you."

You nodded "can I ask about," you asked curiously.

Felix nodded his head "just you're really good for him is what I'm going to say," he explained.

Before you knew it the lights went down once again as Chan got on stage with Jisung and another male "who's that," you asked Felix.

"That's Changbin he is just an underground rapper Chan likes to promote with they call themselves 3racha," he explained.

You watched Chan on stage it was like he was a natural. His smile lit the stage his outfit clean making him look fashionable and handsome. That messy hair was darkening.

Your heart speeds up as you watched his performance him bouncing on stage, the way he hyped up the crowd and his fellow rappers.

Chan never really talked about the performing aspect of this. You were transfixed on the performance the lyrics, his movements it was all amazing. Then cheers filled your ears Chan had a small layer of sweat on his forehead "thank you for coming everyone we have so many new acts tonight please keep a lookout for them," he yelled in the mic.

"They were amazing," you said excitedly.

"Yeah, I love watching them perform," Felix agreed. "It doesn't happen often but when it does it's always great," he praised his friends.

Soon after Chan came back to the table with Jisung and Changbin behind him. A layer of sweat on all of them. "Guys I want you to meet Y/n," he said. "My girlfriend," he said glancing at you for a second.

Your eyes widen at the work girlfriend but decided to act cool "um Hi guys I love your music Chan's showed me some samples," you said.

"Ah thank you so much welcome to our little circle Chan's been meaning to introduce us to you," Jisung said giving a wide smile.

"Has he well my boyfriend is so mean not introducing me to his friends sooner," you side-eyed Chan. You felt Chan wrap his arm around your waist.

"Well we should all get together for some food soon," Felix added.

"That would be great," Chan said slipping his arm around your waist. "Sorry to be rude me and Y/n have to dip," Chan said. Giving his friends a few fist bumps he pulled you out the dark club soon after.

The cool night hit you giving you some much-needed space to breathe. "So Chan girlfriend," you quirked an eyebrow stepping away from his. Your insides turned at the word.

"I'm sorry that just slipped out," he spoke quickly apologizing, a red from the tips of his ears to his cheeks maybe from performing but it made him look different. Vulnerable to you like a confession. "I meant it I'll admit it," he added.

There was a pause as you looked at him and he looked at you. Before you knew it your lips were on his. His plush lips felt so good your heart beating rapidly at his confession and you think you got your answer across. He wrapped his arms around your waist pressing deeply into the kiss.

Pulling apart you gazed up at him he had a handsome smirk on his face. "your place," you bite your lip.

He hummed "I gotta hear it one time," he raised an eyebrow.

"Can my handsome boyfriend take me to his place," you admitted your arms thrown around his neck.

Grabbing his keys he and you hurried to his car. You praised his performance as you rode to his place. His hand now firmly placed entwined in your hand.

Stumbling into his condo you and his lips were attached to one another. Closing the door behind him you giggled as his hand slide through your once neatly curled hair now messy from the night.

Grabbing your hand you lead him to his bedroom it had deep blacks and grey al round. Your lips met in a messy haze of lust.

"Fuck you do things to me," Chan whispered pulling his lips away from you. His fluffy hair was now matted to his forehead attractively from his performance those brown eyes of his blazing with want.

Sitting on his bed eyeing you from the high ground. "Look what you've done," he chuckled out touching himself. Your fingers itched to unzip him and help him.

"Can I," you asked reaching for his zipper.

"Ask properly," he leaned his hands behind him his hooded eyes stared you down.

"Please daddy," you whined out On your knees, you unbuttoned his pants revealing Calvin Klein's you loved so much. When you got a peek of those they really set you off.

Slowly touching the hard outline you licked your lips in concentration as you teased him from the base circling around the tip feeling he was wet.

"Fucking hell Y/n," his hips involuntary jerked up to your touch. Your fingers raised under his black tee feeling his solid abs under your fingers tips.

"I love your body," you hummed feeling his stomach circling little shapes right above his waistline.

"Yeah," he stared down at you with hunger loving the praise that you gave him. Something you learned early about Chan is praise could get you a long way. Your nails dragged down his abs loving the feeling of them under your fingertips.

Pulling him out you admired his length. You gave his slick head a small kiss as you gently bobbed.

Chan lifted his hips letting you slip more into his mouth. "Fuck," he moaned as he started to hit the back of your throat.

"Relax your throat Y/n," he said gently brushing your hair. Chan gently rolled his hips deeper in as you relaxed your throat. You lightly choked on it pulling off quickly. You blushed realizing even with the training you couldn't take him very far.

"Sorry," you flushed embarrassed you couldn't even deep throat him.

Pulling you onto the bed Chan's eyes were gentle and lustful. He lightly patted your head lovely "you got better," he hummed. Grabbing your wrist he gently took it placing gentle kisses across your wrist. He stared at you with a smoldering look of want.

Leaning down his mouth attacked your neck you felt so close to him you could hear his heart race just like yours. His dick hard against your thigh so close to your entrance.

"Chan I need you," you moaned in his ear as he left wet kisses across his neck.

Pushing your dress up his fingers went to your panties taking them off "where do you need me," he groaned. His finger went across your slit petting you lightly.

"Right there," you moaned body heating up from the petting. He pulled your hips so close to him "please chan," you hummed desperate him to fill you.

He gave a cheeky smile "no need to beg," his Australian accent deep and thick. He grabbed your leg hiking you up. Hooking your leg around his hip as he entered you. The feeling of him stretching you making you wince as you took him between your folds.

"Ah fuck," he cursed out his face twisting into pleasure. His nose scrunched up in pleasure as his hips rocked into you.

Pushing your head into the pillow you let out mews of pleasure as he gave gentle thrust. The closeness of him in you made your head twirl. "Harder," you panted feeling him almost hitting that sweet spot.

You felt his hips pace start to pick up as he went deeper. "Ah," you moaned out feeling the tingle of an oncoming orgasm come. You pushed the feeling down trying to savor the feeling of the pleasure.

Looking up at Chan his mouth slightly slacked as he focused on his thrusts fuck he was handsome you thought. A vulnerable look of want and pleasure twisted on his face.

He looked down at you a small smile lit on his lips "you look hot on your back for me." His words made your stomach twist with want and love.

"May I," he hummed his fingers wrapping around your neck. Your stomach tingled with want something about choking made you excited.

"Please," you begged.

Wrapping his hand on the side of your throat made you lick your lip making your head dizzy. Honestly, you didn't know you had a choking kink until Chan introduced you to it.

"Thank you, daddy," you hummed loving the way he pressed lightly on your throat his thumb gently tracing your windpipe. His thrust hit hard as he tightens his hold restricting your breathing.

"Your welcome baby," he said thrusting into you deeper. Lifting into him you enjoyed the way his body pressed into you.

"I'm close," you moaned out feeling him hit that spot over and over making your eyes roll back.

"Hold your breath baby," he said tightening his hold. His pace got faster as he chased his own orgasm small groans left his lips lovely. "Fuck," he moaned "You feel so good," you moan feeling the sudden warmth of his cum spurt out. The warmth of it pushed you over the edge.

Clutching your leg behind his back black and white spots filled your vision. Chan let out sensual groans as he came down from his high. His hand released your neck as he went to pet your hair.

Shifting your leg you felt him pull out of you. You bite your lip smiling at the feeling of him pulling you close.

“Fuck,” he moaned taking off his shirt laying on the silk sheets. You turned to him a grin on his face.

Wrapping his arm around your midsection he curled up to you. “Chan you smell like sweat,” you whined at the smell.

“You know you love it,” he grinned as you pushed your face into his curly hair.

“Mmmhh,” you hummed feeling him pet your head as his fingers up and down your body.

#kpop smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #kpop sceanarios #stray kids scenarios

784 notes · View notes

buckybarnabus · 3 years

Text

The Dance of These Things

Summary: Dawn and Bucky go to a gala.

Warnings: Some cursing. Moderate alcohol use. A broken wrist? Mostly fluff

Word Count: 5.4k oops

A/N: Next part of my Snapshots series involving Bucky Barnes and OFC Dawn. I can’t for the life of me write a whole multi-chaptered story, so this will be a series of one shots in no particular order that may or may not develop into something coherent over time. You can also read on AO3 if you want. Thank you!

“Tell me again why we’re here?” Bucky grumbled as they walked through the parking lot. Dawn shot him a look.

“Because Sam is our friend and he asked us to come,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“He’s your friend. Not mine,” he said, sounding much like a petulant child.

“He spent like two years of his life looking for you under every leaf and pebble he could find. ‘Not friends’ my ass. I actually think that might even qualify as bestie material,” she teased. Bucky tossed a scowl at her.

“As what material?” he asked. “You know what, no. I don’t care. He only went looking for me because Steve needed help. That doesn’t make us friends.”

“Right, because that makes sense. You’re only friends when he’s not asking you to go to a gala in commemoration of saving the universe,” Dawn drawled. Bucky huffed.

“Yeah, not exactly the place for someone like me,” he muttered. That made Dawn pause. She looked at him as they walked, and it hit her, way later than it should have. She should have known better. Bucky felt like he had no right to be there. All of the extra grumpiness made sense, suddenly, and she could see it then in the furrow of his brow, the clench of his jaw. He wasn’t mad, or pouting about having to go to some fancy party. He was nervous. Maybe a little scared.

“Hey,” she said, grabbing his wrist and planting her feet. She stumbled just a little in her heels as Bucky’s momentum kept him going for a couple steps. She felt him stiffen up at her touch, but she ignored it. He’d gotten better about contact, after that night she cut his hair, but it still wasn’t exactly easy for him. One step at a time.

He heaved a heavy sigh as she tugged him to a halt, and he looked over her head, exasperation in his face. “Look at me,” she said. He acquiesced after a stubborn moment.

“What?” he snipped. She stared at him. There were a million cliché things she wanted to wax poetic about, but she found herself at a loss. If she said any of it, she knew it would just work him up even more. Calling him a hero would probably send him into hysterics.

“I don’t know,” she said dumbly. She chewed at her lip briefly, forgetting for a moment that she was wearing lipstick. It claimed to be smudge proof. She was, apparently, going to test the claim whether she meant to or not. She sighed and fixed him with what she hoped was a meaningful look. “I get it, okay? My track record isn’t all that pretty either. It’s just one night. Just a few hours. People are here to celebrate being alive and throw obnoxious amounts of money at foundations. You know, if nothing else, we can just sit at the losers table together, and you can watch me get drunk,” she said, offering a sly little grin and a squeeze to his wrist.

Bucky looked at Dawn for a moment, didn’t say anything, his jaw still working overtime with his stress. But a certain softness worked its way into the edges of his eyes as he took her in, and it made a certain little shiver run up her spine. She felt almost exposed under his gaze. A tiny little grin made its way onto his face, and he gently slipped his wrist out of her grip to carry on walking.

“Well, don’t get too drunk. I’m not carrying you through the parking lot if you can’t walk straight,” he said over his shoulder.

He was tense as they walked up to the entrance of the building, people loitering outside, one or two of them staring from the sidelines. Dawn couldn’t be sure if Bucky noticed, but he paid it no mind regardless. She managed to weasel her way in front of him, giving the name to the bouncer at the door. They found Sam not five minutes after going in, and a wide smile spread over Sam’s face when he spotted them.

Dawn let out a low whistle as Sam flounced up to them, giving him an exaggerated once over. “Look at you, Wilson, Jesus,” she exclaimed. “You’re gonna piss a lot of married men off tonight, looking like you do.”

“Please,” he scoffed, giving her a hug and a light kiss on the cheek in greeting before holding her at arms length to get a good look at her. “Have you seen yourself? I think I just fell in love with you a little,” he said. Then, genuinely, “Dawn, you look beautiful.”

“If you two are just going to fawn over each other all night, I’m going home right now,” Bucky drawled. Sam smiled upon seeing Bucky.

“Look at you, man. A haircut, no tactical gear. If it wasn’t for the staring thing, I never would have thought it was you. Didn’t even think you owned a suit,” Sam said by way of greeting.

“I didn’t,” Bucky said flatly. Dawn tried to hide her smile. She had all but dragged Bucky, kicking and screaming, to the suit store a few days prior, when he was still adamantly refusing to to go the gala. Sam chuckled and smacked him on the shoulder.

“You look good, Buck. I’m glad to see you came,” Sam said.

“I can change your mind, real quick,” Bucky said. Despite the grouchiness, there was still a little lilt of jest in his voice, and Dawn was going to count that as a success. Not a minute later, someone else was calling for Sam’s attention, and they parted ways with promises to catch up later. Dawn spun on her heel to face Bucky.

“I think it’s time for a drink,” she chirped. Bucky gestured toward the bar.

“Agreed. Lead the way,” he said, a tight smile on his face.

To his credit, Bucky was doing just fine, making small talk with those who approached him, whether it be by Sam’s introduction, a familiar face, or the occasional stranger.

The pair had actually ended up getting separated after a little while, though Dawn made certain to keep him in her sights. A trio of old men had apparently decided to adopt Bucky while Dawn was just a little caught up letting some rich older lady talk her ear off about the donation she was making. Which was fine. The woman could flaunt her money all she wanted for all Dawn cared, so long as she was doing something useful with it.

But alas, that conversation came to an end when the woman suddenly saw someone she knew across the way and promptly forgot about Dawn, gliding across the room as she hollered and waved. Dawn blinked a few times before looking briefly over toward where Bucky sat, to find him already looking at her. She rose a brow at him in question. He gave a little grin and a nod, and she smiled brightly before wandering off back toward the bar for another drink.

She ordered one for herself, and another for Bucky with every intention of meeting back up with him and his old men soon, and leaned patiently against the bar top as she waited. There was a man standing near her- nondescript, a little sweaty- sipping on a beer. She didn’t pay him much mind as she waited, simply offering a polite grin when they briefly locked eyes.

“Hey,” the man said, giving her a weird grin as he pointed at her. “I think I know you.” Dawn immediately had a bad feeling about it.

“I think you don’t,” she responded, clipped, but trying to remain at least a little polite.

“No, I see it now. I definitely know you,” he said, scooting a tad closer. “Can you guess how?” Dawn took half a step away.

“I don’t really do guessing games,” she said, haunches quickly rising.

“You’re an assassin. You kill people,” the man said, and she caught the look in his eye. He was either very drunk, or way too excited to talk about things she didn’t want to talk about. Seemed like a little bit of both.

“That’s a bold accusation to put on someone who potentially kills people,” Dawn said, eyes flitting around for a possible escape.

“It’s true. You’re the Serval, I know it. I saw you in the S.H.I.E.L.D. files when they were leaked,” the man continued, Dawn’s attitude going right over his head. She gave him an incredulous smile.

“Oh, you’re one of those deep diving types, huh? Must’ve dug pretty far into those, the Serval wasn’t very high up in the ranks,” she said, giving the bartender a light thanks as she dropped the drinks off.

“I can prove it. The Serval’s got the brand of the Handler, right on the back of her neck,” the man said, eyes darting to the back of Dawn’s head. At the mention of the Handler, Dawn was suddenly in full fight or flight mode. She was just trying to have a nice night.

“You sound a little obsessed there, buddy,” she said, voice flat. “I wouldn’t test that theory if I were you. Excuse me,” she said, making to pick the drinks up and escape the situation. His hand was wrapped around her wrist, then, strikingly quick for a drunk man. It took every ounce of willpower Dawn had not to drop him right then and there.

“Let me go,” she said, surprising herself at how calm she sounded.

“Come on, just let me see it,” he said, other hand moving toward the back of her head. Dawn was a hairs breadth away from kicking the mans knee out when a familiar whir of metal was swiftly followed by the hand it belonged to. Bucky had the mans floating arm caught in his left fist, twisting the wrist sharply and painfully down and out of Dawn’s face. It happened so quickly, so subtly, no one around them even seemed to notice.

“This ain’t a game you want to play, man,” Bucky growled at the man who’s face was contorted in pain. “You’re gonna leave, and hope neither of us finds you later. You know, especially with her being a potential assassin and all.”

With that, Bucky released the mans arm, and the pair watched him crumple before stumbling off in a hurry, tail between his legs. Dawn didn’t bother questioning how he heard the exchange. They’d been through it before. He heard it all, so he said.

“Were you a drama major in your past life? Because that was pretty dramatic,” Dawn teased, hiding what definitely felt like a stiff smile behind her glass as she took a hefty swallow. Bucky looked her over quickly, assessing her body language for unease.

“A little theatrics can go a long way,” he said when he seemed satisfied that Dawn was mostly fine. “You think it scared him?”

“Maybe a little. That, or the broken wrist,” she shrugged, picking up the drink she’d gotten for him. “Got you a refill,” she said. He huffed a breath of laughter and took the glass.

“You went through all that trouble just for me? You’re a peach,” he teased.

“What can I say, I’m a hell of a date. I know how to treat ‘em,” she shrugged.

“I’m sure you do, Donnie,” he said. They fell into an amicable silence after that, but before either one could decide to start talking again, the crowds attention was drawn to the head of the hall, where the presenters of the gala were starting some big speech.

It really was a nice speech, all things considered. Well spoken, hopeful. Bittersweet, but overall optimistic about the world trying to get back on track. As galas went, full of rich, slightly sheltered people who didn’t really understand that things were still going to be rough for a long time, Dawn supposed it could have been a worse crowd. They had hope that things could be good, given the right resources. It made sense that Sam was so eager for them to go.

Sam had reappeared out of seemingly nowhere not long after the speech had ended, and the music had started back up.

“Dawn, you mind if I steal you from your date for a little while? I’m dying to dance with someone under sixty,” he requested, earning a giggle from Dawn.

“Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time? Wooing all the old ladies?” she asked.

“I’ve been drowning in Chanel Number Five for like an hour. Please, I need a break,” he whined, coaxing a proper laugh out of her. She turned to Bucky, then, the silent question on her face.

“Go ahead. I’ve got a conversation to get back to,” Bucky said, gesturing toward the table of old men he’d been talking to previously.

So Sam offered Dawn his arm and led her out onto the dance floor. They fell into form easily, and began moving with the music.

“So Bucky made some friends, huh?” Sam asked, raising a brow in amusement. Dawn smiled.

“Yeah. A bunch of old men, naturally. They’re probably just swapping war stories or something, I don’t know. Whatever old men talk about,” she said.

“Of course he’d fall in with them, cranky old bastard,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “At least nobody’s giving him any trouble.” Dawn shrugged a shoulder.

“He’s already broken a wrist tonight, I think he’s filled his quota for the time being,” she said.

“He what?” Sam baulked. Dawn laughed lightly.

“Don’t worry, it was very subtle. We’re staying out of trouble, I swear.”

“No, no. You aren’t getting out of this so easily. Why the hell is Bucky stealth breaking people’s wrists?” Sam prodded.

“The guy had it coming, honestly. He grabbed me. Trust me, I would’ve made a bigger scene if Bucky hadn’t stepped in,” she said.

“You two are going to be the death of me, I swear to God. Can’t stay out of trouble for one damn night, can you?” he said, giving her a little spin.

“Gala’s can’t stop a couple of wild animals, Wilson,” Dawn winked.

“And yet here you are, schmoozing with the best of ‘em,” he said, shaking his head fondly.

“I mean, I look sort of nice tonight. Might as well play the part, you know?” she said, earning a chuckle. They bantered easily for a bit before falling into quiet and letting the music guide them.

“You know,” Sam started after a few stanzas. “I don’t think Bucky’s danced since the forties. Steve said he used to go dancing all the time,” he said, pointed. Dawn snorted.

“What, you think he’d go for that now? No way. It was enough work just to get him to come here,” she retorted.

“You should ask him to dance. Since, apparently, he can deny you nothing,” Sam said, still with the stupid pointed look. Dawn was willfully ignoring it.

“I think he’d sooner rip his other arm off. You know how he is about touching,” she said.

“I don’t know about that. I don’t think you’re seeing what I’m seeing, Donnie,” Sam said.

“Oh? And what’s that?” she prodded.

“Right now, I see Sir Grumpalot sitting over there looking like a kicked puppy because someone else is dancing with his girl. Seriously, the dude is straight up pouting.” Dawn shot him a glare.

“I’m not his- he always looks like a kicked puppy, that’s just his face.” Sam smiled at her, a soft, warm thing. She felt small under it.

“To you, maybe. That man is an immovable object when he wants to be. Unless it comes to you. Then, sad little puppy, always ready to please.” She huffed at him as the song ended, and reached up to pat his cheek.

“Alright, Samwise, keep telling yourself that. I’m not nearly drunk enough for this conversation. Thanks for the dance. Back to the cougars with you,” she said, removing herself from his grip.

“Dawn, baby, don’t do this to me!” he crowed. She shot him a wide smile as she backed away.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You know my heart burns for you. But I think I’ve got a puppy I need to get back to,” she called.

Bucky was scowling at her once she arrived back at the table he sat at with his three old men. “Was Sam calling me a puppy?” he asked, throwing a glare in Sam’s direction.

“You heard that?” she asked, taking a seat next to him. He slid a glass across the table toward her, a refill of her drink. She smiled in thanks.

“I heard you say it. Which means he said it,” Bucky said, clearly grumpy.

“Don’t worry, Buck, you’re not a puppy,” she said, poking her foot into his shin under the table. “You’re a big, bad wolf, huffing and puffing as much as you do,” she said.

“I hope you don’t ever get into comedy. It’s really not your calling,” Bucky grumbled, and Dawn let out a bright peal of laughter.

And then, apparently, Dawn was dancing with one of Bucky’s three old men, because her feet weren’t killing her enough already. She could run around all day and night on missions, but on those, she typically had boots. A few hours gallivanting around in high heels, though? That was definitely another story.

By the time Dawn had managed to slip away from the dance floor, Bucky was looking spacey, tired, and ready to leave. He’d been a good sport over the course of the evening, and broke a drunk guys wrist for her. He’d earned the relief of leaving the gala.

They slipped out into the refreshing night air, after Dawn’s insistence that they at least say goodbye to Sam, and Dawn felt the relief instantly. She’d been riled up all evening, trying to be social and gracious. It was nice to breathe and let the tension go. But with her relief, the pain in her feet and ankles became her main focus. Heels were a curse to womankind, she decided. And Bucky was already a good few yards away.

“You always walk that fast, or are you just that sick of me?” she called out, irrationally grumpy at the pain in her feet. Bucky stopped and turned, looking just a little surprised that she was so far behind. He watched her for a moment as she tried to pick up the pace, and she scowled when she saw the amusement written all over his face.

“You look like a baby deer,” he teased.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You try wearing heels for hours at a time, see how you do,” she said, embarrassed as she hobbled up to him.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to wear them,” he said, raising his hands in defense.

“I’ve got a knife under this dress, somewhere. Don’t make me use it,” she grumbled.

“You brought a knife?” he asked, surprised. She scoffed.

“Oh, like you don’t have at least ten stuffed in your slacks,” she retorted.

“That’s fair,” he said, then looked back down at her in consideration. “Alright. Come on,” he said, stepping into her space.

“What-“ Dawn was cut off by a yelp as she was suddenly airborne, and she found herself scrambling for a good grip around his neck. Bucky hiked her up higher and started walking, carrying her bridal style through the lot like it was nothing. Dawn took a moment to gather herself again before speaking.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to carry me through the parking lot,” she said quietly, amused. She was also trying not to think about how warm he was, and if she was talking, that helped to distract her.

“That was if you were drunk. Which I’m pretty sure you’re not,” he said, giving her a suspicious glance. She smiled.

“Nah. I can hold my liquor. Maybe even drink you under the table,” she said.

“Right. We are never testing that theory.”

“Don’t underestimate me.”

“I’m not. You’d die.”

She let Bucky drive her car, not trusting her feet to cooperate with the pedals. It was a long, quiet drive back to Bucky’s apartment. They’d spent the drive sort of winding down from the evening, and Dawn was about to bid him goodnight upon parking, but Bucky beat her to it.

“You’ve been drinking. I can’t, in good conscience, let you drive home,” he said flatly. She rose a brow at him, unable to help the grin.

“I thought you said I wasn’t drunk,” she said. He didn’t look at her as he pocketed her keys and started walking.

“Three drinks? Maybe four? Yeah, you’re not driving,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Don’t know where your keys went, anyway.” Dawn smiled softly at his back and followed. She liked when fragments of his boyish nature of years past shone through all the grey he surrounded himself with. It was nice.

He let her borrow some clothes, let her use his shower, and she eventually emerged, clean and warm and comfy. She dropped herself onto the couch and let out a relieved sigh, leaning her head back and shutting her eyes with a grin.

“Feel better?” Bucky asked from the kitchen around a mouthful of food. His stomach had growled angrily the entire drive home. Dawn had tried to get him to eat at the gala, but he just wouldn’t. He moved back into the front room and placed a plated sandwich in Dawn’s lap. She was, admittedly, also very hungry.

“You have no idea,” she said, tucking into the offered sandwich. She watched TV while Bucky took his own shower. It was a familiar routine after sharing many a hotel room. They existed pretty easily around each other, for the most part. It was comfortable. Something safe, easy.

“Did you have to use all the hot water?” he griped without venom upon exiting the bathroom and flopping onto the couch.

“You should have thought of that before you met me. Long, hot showers are kind of my favorite thing,” she said, shoving at his shoulder.

“Right, because I definitely could have predicted some ex assassin, hot water leech was going to prance her way into my apartment one day just for the amenities,” he shot back. She could practically hear him rolling his eyes at her.

“Constant vigilance, Sarge. You can never be too ready,” she said, curling into her corner of the couch as Bucky started flipping through the channels. Dawn’s mind wandered as she stared at the television. The air between them was easy, comfortable. Quiet and content. She found herself continuously looping back to Sam’s words at the gala, couldn’t quite seem to get them out of her head. Bucky liked to dance, once upon a time. She could imagine it, the bright smile on his face as he twirled a pretty girl around the room, the innocence of it all.

“Sam said you haven’t danced since the forties,” she blurted before she could stop herself. She could see him turn his head toward her in her peripheral vision, but he said nothing. “Well. I guess Steve said it, really. Steve told Sam, Sam told me,” she rambled, picking at the borrowed sweatpants.

“Well. It’s a little hard to get some dancing in between brainwashing, bouncing from fight to fight. Turning to dust,” Bucky said, slowly, clearly trying to figure out her reasoning.

“You could’ve tonight. At the gala,” she said, chancing a quick glance at him. He was giving her a look, something carefully neutral and just a little suspicious.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” he said.

“You could’ve,” she repeated. “I’m sure anyone would’ve danced with you.”

“Not really my scene these days, Donnie,” he said. She chewed on her lip, ignoring the feeling of her heart hammering in her chest.

“What about here?” she asked.

“What about it?”

Dawn gestured around them. “Is this more your scene?” He furrowed his brows at her. Her stomach dropped into her feet.

“This is my living room?” he said, clearly confused. She was going to fucking throw up.

“Dance with me, Bucky,” she said. Maybe she would just die, dissolve into the couch and cease to be.

“What?” he asked, almost a whisper. She squared her shoulders and turned to him.

“Dance with me,” she said. He just kind of sat there for a moment, looking bewildered and caught off guard. It took him a minute to find his words again.

“I haven’t danced since ‘43,” he said, sounding a little breathless. She nodded slowly.

“Yes. We’ve been over this. It’ll be fine,” she said, standing up and crossing the room toward his stereo.

“I’m not any good,“ he argued weakly.

“Who cares? No one’s watching and I won’t know any better,” she said, hooking up her phone and pulling up a proper playlist. She pressed the play button and put the phone down before drifting back to Bucky as the grainy, old music started playing. She quickly muted the television and outstretched her hands expectantly. She made a grabby motion when he still just stared up at her.

“Come on. Just a few songs. It’ll be fun,” she said. He pressed his lips together and sighed heavily, not being overly helpful as he took her hands and let her pull him up. She pulled him away from the couch and they stared at each other for a moment. Bucky’s brows were furrowed, but she couldn’t tell what he was feeling. She could barely hear the music over the blood rushing in her ears.

He still didn’t say anything. Just hesitantly tapped her arm up, looking resigned, a silent order to place her hand on his shoulder. His left hand fell lightly onto her waist, and his right gently scooped up her other hand to hold up in the air. She gave him an encouraging smile, and then they we’re moving.

She let him lead, and it was a shy thing at first, stiff. “See? It’s not so bad,” she said. He huffed a tense breath of laughter.

“This is stupid,” he said. She clicked her tongue.

“No, this is nice,” she argued, giving his shoulder a gentle pinch. She moved with him as easily as he would let her, but he was still uncertain, almost awkward. She found it endearing. It took some time for Bucky to warm up to the idea.

Dawn could almost pinpoint the moment he got comfortable. He tugged her hand, twisted her out for a little spin, and pulled her back into him. She giggled as he spun her, almost losing her footing on the return. His left hand landed on the small of her back when she bumped back into him, and they were suddenly much closer. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, the coolness of his metal hand against her spine. She looked back up at him, and she caught a glimpse of that boyish charm he once probably wore so easily.

“I guess it’s not so bad,” he muttered as they continued swaying to the music.

“And you think you’re not any good,” she tutted. They moved around in a little circle for a while. Then, Bucky got brave and started putting some foot work into it. Dawn’s heart was absolutely soaring, and she could tell Bucky was legitimately having a good time, if the softness in his features was anything to go by.

“You looked beautiful, tonight,” Bucky said out of the blue, quiet, like he didn’t want to break the little bubble they found themselves in. “I should have said it before.” Dawn bit her lip against the shy smile threatening to rise. She could only manage a whispered thanks as she felt her cheeks heat up.

“You know. Baby deer ankles and all,” he teased, earning a scandalized gasp out of Dawn. She went to smack him in the arm, but instead, he stopped the motion by gripping her hand tighter and pulling her even closer, flush against his body. Any and all fight Dawn had in her left in a rush. “I’m kidding, Doll,” he said, the words rumbling against her chest. Dawn couldn’t find any words to say, so she rested her head against his chest instead, opting to feel his warmth and let the music guide them.

They danced around the apartment for more than the promised few songs, swaying and spinning and stepping. Dawn only stepped on his toes a few times. And Bucky seemed happy. The tension he usually held in his shoulders was nonexistent, and everything about him just seemed soft and sweet, and Dawn was almost jealous of all the girls he must have taken dancing back in his day, jealous that they got to see that side of him so freely. And she was sad for Bucky, that he’d been through so much, had no choice but to shut himself down. But at that moment in time, the pair of them floating around his apartment, things were good. Everything was okay. There was no mission. No nightmare. No Handler. No greater goal. Just Dawn and Bucky. Just music. Just a little bit of peace.

The song was nearing its end. The crescendo came, the last big chorus, and Bucky spun Dawn around once more before catching her against his chest. He smoothly transferred his weight, held her snug as he got a steady hold of her and dipped her with all the grace in the world. She found herself giggling at the feeling, and then he pulled her back up. He pulled her back up, and she was proud of not messing it up for all of a second before her mind blanked entirely.

They were close. Very close. Both of his hands were pressed into her spine, one warm, one cold, steadying her frame. Her hands landed on either side of his neck. Their noses brushed. They were so close. Dawn felt his breath against her lips, a quick, surprised little puff, and she almost could have sworn her heart stopped beating, that she would die right then and there. Hair had landed in her face with the momentum, and she couldn’t see much of anything, but she felt it all.

Her breath hitched and she froze as Bucky’s nose just brushed her cheek, an almost mindless nuzzle against her skin. She could feel the heat of his lips so, so close to hers. She would barely have to move an inch to meet them. She was pretty sure she was dead.

But, almost as soon as it had happened, it was over. Bucky took a step back, releasing Dawn completely.

“It’s, um,” he cleared his throat, looked somewhere over her shoulder. “It’s late. I’m sure you’re tired. You should get some sleep,” he said. It took Dawn an embarrassingly long moment to collect herself.

“Oh. Right, um. Yeah. It was a long day, wasn’t it,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as spaced out as she felt. She moved on stiff legs to grab her phone and shut the music off. Bucky was standing awkwardly off to the side, arms crossed tight over his chest.

“You can take the bed,” he said with a stiff gesture, voice rough. She nodded dumbly and pulled her lips between her teeth before shuffling down the short hallway. She was about to shut the door behind her, hand on the doorknob for a moment. She swung it back open a little.

“Bucky?” she called out hesitantly.

“Yeah?” his voice echoed, quick and a little shrill. Her words got stuck. She cleared her throat.

“Thank you. For coming. I had a nice night. I hope you did, too,” she called out, awkward, unable to keep the uncertainty out of her voice. She didn’t get a response for a minute, and she was about to shut the door.

“Yeah. I did. Goodnight, Donnie.”

Neither one of them knew it, but they both spent a long time staring at the ceiling that night, too wired, too deep in thoughts of What the hell is going on to fall asleep. And when they did, their sleep was as turbulent as whatever it was that they were trying not to feel.

#bucky barnes fic #buckybarnabus writes #bucky barnes #tfatws #avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x ofc #james barnes #marvel #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #ca:cw #catws #captain america #mcu #bucky barnes x original female character

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undertalethingems · 5 years

Text

Bark at the Moon, Chapter 6: Slip Through

Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None?

Chapter Summary: No longer so alone, Papyrus is ready to tackle finding his brother--with Undyne's help, he's sure to find something...

“Okay! It should be late enough that most people'll be home for the night, so chances are no one will spot you, much less recognize you. That should take care of your concerns about being seen, right?”

"Good point," Papyrus agreed, taking another spoonful of the hearty soup Undyne had made. It was a little hard to grip his silverware, so eating was slow, but it was nice to have something hot so he wanted to savor it anyway. At least Undyne was way better at making soup than spaghetti. "It does make me a tad less trousled."

Undyne smiled. "Good. Once you're done there we'll get cleaned up and head out, okay?"

The rest of the evening was relatively quiet--the two traded banter while Papyrus finished his dinner, then they worked together to do the dishes and put things away. And then, all too soon--it was time to start their investigation, which meant stepping into a world Papyrus didn't know that he belonged in. He was sure it was just as ready for him as he was for it--which was to say, not at all.

But Undyne beckoned, and Papyrus shook himself out before reluctantly headed for the door. The outside world loomed, and for a moment he hesitated.... No, he needed to leave. Drawing a deep breath, he stepped out for what felt like the first time in ages. It was strange, feeling the cold again and snow crunching under his claws. But... it was so open... so spacious... he needed to run, to express all the energy he'd had to bottle up!

He tore off towards the nearby clearing, delighting in the wind rushing and newfound strength coursing through him as he galloped down the road. This was where he belonged! Out and about, doing, being! Not cooped up at home, that was sure. He barreled into the snow and rolled around, then got back to his feet and shook the snow from his bones. Oh that felt good! He was fully refreshed, like he'd finally shed the gloom that had washed over him in his house.

Undyne was laughing when she caught up with him, happy to see him acting more like his old self. “Feels good to get out, huh? Being a homebody doesn’t suit you. Alright, now, where do you think Sans might have gone?”

Papyrus stroked his chin. “Well, it's difficult to say, but his basic needs are a place to sleep and bad food... but no one’s reported him from Grillby’s, right?”

“No,” Undyne frowned. “You’d think that’s the first thing we’d hear about—it was Grillby himself who asked me to check up on him… so he’s either still going, or Grillby hasn’t gotten nervous yet. Seems like a good place to start either way!”

Papyrus nodded, and together they turned to head for the restaurant. It glowed a welcoming amber in the subterranean night, but Papyrus declined to enter the establishment, both on account of his current state as well as being firmly opposed to grease as a concept. So he sat in the snow opposite the building as Undyne went in, hoping there'd be lead on his brother. Grillby was, despite how Papyrus felt about the quality of his cooking, a good monster who knew his regulars well. And even if Sans was mad and avoiding him, surely he wouldn't avoid his favorite food.

“No one’s seen him,” Undyne relayed when she’d returned, looking downcast. “Grillby says he stopped coming about two and a half weeks ago. He was about to call me again, actually, it’s kinda funny.”

“Two and a half weeks… that’s when you came to visit.”

“Right,” Undyne said with a wincing smile. “So the timeframe matches… and… I guess there’s something else weird. Grillby almost didn’t tell me--he wasn't sure it was relevant. But… apparently he’s had kids come in a couple times now and order a few burgers to go. When they got asked by one of the other customers what they were for, all they said was that it was some flower monster who wanted them.”

Papyrus blinked. A flower.... “Why would a flower monster need someone to buy burgers for them?

“Dunno, but… Grillby said that what struck him as odd… was that it’s Sans’ favorite they keep ordering, and nothing else. They even ask for extra ketchup.”

“Hmm…” Papyrus trailed, not sure what to make of this information. A certain flower had been his friend in timelines past. Maybe he’d decided to become Sans’ friend this time around? He couldn't be sure, and it made him uneasy. He wasn't always his friend.

“Yeah, I dunno either,” Undyne continued, “but everyone asked how you were and what was up, so they miss you a lot. You better figure this thing out soon or you might have a visiting party from the dogs.”

“I… I’m touched,” Papyrus said softly; he hadn’t thought anyone would pay his absence any mind. They were all Sans’ friends, not his…

“Yeah! I told them you were taking a good long vacation since you tend to overwork yourself, and they bought it, but I think everyone’s looking forward to seeing you guys back in action. Anyway! I say we try and find this flower guy and talk to him. Ask him what he’s doing with those burgers.”

“…It is our only lead,” Papyrus agreed, narrowing his eyes. “If he’s hanging out with Sans, then that would certainly explain it.”

“Alright. I’ve always wanted to do a stakeout,” Undyne grinned, flashing her fangs. “Based on what Grillby told me, those kids should show up tomorrow. Let’s wait here all night and make sure we don’t miss ‘em.”

“An excellent strategy! I am with you one zillion percent!”

The two friends hunkered down in the snow just off the road and out of sight. Undyne couldn’t keep from shivering after a few hours in, so Papyrus darted back home to retrieve a blanket for her. It looked a little conspicuous draped over her shoulders, so with her approval he buried her in snow and left only a small space open for her to peer through. Halfway into the morning she was apparently cozy enough to fall asleep, but Papyrus didn’t mind. He could keep watch in the meantime.

It was just after Grillby unlocked his door for the morning that a trio of kids ran up—a pair of bunnies and a little reptilian child. They greeted the fire monster brightly, and he nodded to them before letting them stumble in. Papyrus prodded Undyne in her side, and she yelped—he’d forgotten he had particularly sharp digits now—but it got the message across. She tossed the blanket aside, shedding snow as she stood.

“Okay. You ready to do this?”

“I was born ready!” Papyrus replied, crouching in anticipation.

“Okay! I want you to stay back and track behind us while I get the kids to take me to the flower. I don't want anything to go unnoticed, so you'll keep an eye on the whole thing. Understand?”

“Oh… Yes! What a cunning plan! We will soon learn the truth with you at the helm!”

“Heck yeah! Alright, shh, here they come.”

The kids skipped from Grillby's, each with a small bag in their arms—or, in the little reptilian child’s case, their mouth. Papyrus could smell the grease from here, and regretted having such a powerful sense of smell in this form. At least it would make them easy to follow. He watched them trot down the street towards Waterfall, giggling and chatting to each other as they walked, discussing what they’d do with the extra money they were making. So, someone really was paying them to buy bad decisions…

Undyne waited until they were a bit further down the road to make her move, stepping out from the sidelines to follow them. Papyrus stayed within the trees, swift and silent on his feet as he trailed them, wondering where all this would lead.

“Hey guys!” Undyne called, waving casually to the trio as she caught up with them just outside Waterfall. They turned to face her, and the reptile dropped their bag on account of their jaw falling open.

“Oh my gosh! Yo! It’s Undyne!” the child exclaimed in a stunned whisper. “Act cool, she’s only the most awesome monster in the whole Underground!”

The bunnies exchanged looks, but smiled politely as the captain approached.

“You kids off to have a picnic?” she began, and the little ones milled around a bit before one of the bunnies answered.

“Um, no…”

“Really? Can I ask where you're taking those burgers then?”

The reptilian was quick to answer. “There’s this flower guy who loves ‘em! But his roots keep him from going inside Grillby’s, plus it's too cold for him in Snowdin anyway, so he has to ask us kids to get ‘em for him! We’re helping our fellow monsters, just like you want us to!”

“Good job,” Undyne said proudly. “Hey, I kinda want to meet this guy. Think I could tag along?”

“Um, I guess so?” the other bunny answered, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s nothing real special.”

The kids led the way with Undyne in tow, and Papyrus couldn’t help but feel hopeful. He kept just out of sight as they wound through the dark, damp halls of Waterfall, crossed the bridge, and came to a field of echo flowers. Amid the whispering expanse of eerie blue, there was a bright spot of yellow. It was a flower with face, stretched with a cheery smile.

“Howdy kids!” the flower chirped brightly. “Oh boy, you brought a new friend! Could this be the Undyne you’ve told me so much about?”

“It totally is!” the reptilian answered gleefully, dropping their bag again as they hopped. “She wanted to meet you! You’re sooo lucky!”

“I sure am!” the plant replied, but Papyrus thought there was something just a bit off in his expression. “And hey, looks like you brought everything else too!”

“Here you go, mister Flowey,” one of the bunnies said as the trio handed their bags over. “You must like burgers a whole lot if you eat so many. Doesn’t your momma tell you you’ll get sick if you eat too much of them?”

“Well, you wanna know something real sad? Flowers don’t exactly have moms,” Flowey replied, and the children gasped sadly.

“Yo, you never had a mom?!”

“That is so sad…”

“Miss Undyne, did you know he didn’t have a momma?!”

Undyne sighed. “Not everyone’s that lucky. You guys run home and hug your moms extra hard, okay?”

“Okay!” the trio chorused.

“Hey, but enough of that for now!” Flowey spoke again. “You guys have been a big help! Here’s your tip, hee hee!”

He tossed each of the kids a little sack of gold using a thin vine, and the three ran off, giggling and waving. Undyne stayed behind, as did Flowey. The two eyed one another for a moment, until Undyne broke the quiet.

“Listen, I won’t keep you long, but I came with those kids because I need to ask you something. I need to know if you’ve seen or know the whereabouts of a man named Sans. He’s a skeleton monster about yea tall, and tends to wear a blue jacket and black shorts. Know him?”

“Hmm…” Flowey tapped a vine to his chin. “Doesn’t sound familiar. Can I ask why you’re looking for him? Did he do something bad?”

“No. He went missing about two weeks ago, and we were given the impression you might know something,” Undyne replied, folding her arms.

“Who told you that? I’m just a flower, I don’t get out much,” Flowey replied, looking offended.

“Well… from what we’ve heard, that’s when you started asking those kids to get burgers for you, and they happen to be Sans’ favorite.”

“...That’s your lead? Really?” Flowey scoffed as he reached into the closest bag to unwrap a burger and bit into it. “Listen. I’m stuck out here in Waterfall. It took me forever to come across anything like Grillby’s cooking, and now, I can’t get enough of it. Can you really blame me for asking my fellow monsters to help a guy out? Is that so wrong?”

“Well, no,” Undyne huffed. “But—”

“Listen, I’m sorry to hear about this Sans guy, and I hope you find him. But I just really like these burgers. I had no idea he liked them too—hey, I can’t blame him, hee hee! I’ll let you know if I see anything, but this is the first I’ve even heard of him,” Flowey said, tilting his head in a shrug before taking another bite. Undyne pursed her lips.

“Well, thanks, I guess. Sorry to bother you. Let the Guard know if you do find anything.”

She marched away with brows furrowed, and Papyrus lingered to watch Flowey just a bit longer. Flowey waited until she was definitely out of the room to spit his mouthful of food out, his lip curled as he glared in her direction. Then he gathered up the bags with his vines and disappeared into the earth.

Papyrus went from feeling disappointed to terrified.

His magic pulsing through him in a panicked rush, he left his spot in the shadows to investigate where Flowey had vanished. He found a small mound of upturned soil and no other physical signs, but there was a smell. Not the smell of fresh grease from Grillby’s, nor the scent of clammy mud and grass, though all were present. No, this was a smell that made his magic coil so tensely in his chest he thought it might burst, a smell that made him shiver from skull to tailtip at its presence.

It was the faint smell of earthy bone and stale ketchup.

Flowey was a liar.

Flowey was, very often, not a good person and wouldn’t even try sometimes. Papyrus had hoped that with the dearth of resets lately he might have given up on playing with everyone’s lives, but it seemed this was not the case. He still hoped, naturally, that one day Flowey would make the right choice, but with him acting the way he had, and Sans being how he was now…

Papyrus groaned. Maybe Sans was happy. He was alive, at least, and even if Flowey had him trapped somewhere, somehow, he was getting out of work, probably napping a lot and being brought his favorite food. He’d said himself that was all Sans really needed… Maybe Sans just didn’t want to come home after all. He hoped it was like that.

“Papyrus…?” Undyne’s voice echoed from down the corridor, and he perked up. He glanced back down at the little clump of dirt where Flowey had been, and pushed his heartbreak aside. If Sans was happy somewhere, then so was he. He heaved a sigh, and trotted to catch up with his captain.

"Did you see something?" Undyne asked when he caught up, and he glanced around before answering in a low voice.

"No, not a thing! How frustrating," he huffed. "I suppose there's nothing for it but to keep waiting. However long that is..."

Undyne considered his words, then turned to him with a grin. "Hey! Rather than stay cooped up in your house again, how about you come over to mine? You know, for a sleepover."

Papyrus blinked. "Really?"

"Sure! I also know a couple spots where NO ONE ever comes, so we can hang out there and you don't have to worry about being seen. That'd be pretty nice, right?"

Papyrus was taken aback. "Well, certainly, b-but--are you sure that's proper? F-for you? There's etiquette and such, I read it in the Royal Guard handbook handbook."

"Psh, I don't care about what's proper! All that etiquette stuff is a TOTAL DRAG! AND! I'M THE CAPTAIN! I DECIDE WHAT RULES TO ENFORCE! And I say SCREW 'EM! I care about my friend, who's been stuck alone in his house for way too long. It'll be fun!"

Papyrus hemmed and hawed. Was it really okay...? Undyne thought so, and after everything today he wasn't sure he could take being alone another night. She had called him her friend... he almost couldn't believe it... But he knew he shouldn't stay by himself again. "Um... well... alright. It does sound nice."

"HECK yeah it does!" Undyne beamed, punching him in the shoulder playfully. "Now come on, I dunno about you but we've been out long enough. Let's head back to my place."

Papyrus let her lead the way along the winding corridors and yawning chasms of Waterfall until they reached the quiet corner where Undyne's house sat. He followed her in and immediately slipped on the ceramic tile floor, his legs sliding out from under him with a scrape. He groaned, and Undyne stifled a laugh as she helped him stand.

"I guess there is one problem with you staying here," she teased as they hobbled over to the table together. "Good thing it's not a big one!"

"Just embarrassing," Papyrus griped as he sat, carefully balancing with all four feet crammed on the chair. He drummed his claws as Undyne puttered around the kitchen, making what turned out to be tea.

"Figured something warm would be nice," she said, setting a cup before him as she joined him, and for a little while they sat quietly as it cooled. But Undyne always got contemplative when she made tea, and it wasn't long before she spoke. "You know... it's weird, but... I've gotten pretty used to you being like this. It's actually really cool."

"You mean it?" Papyrus asked, and she nodded.

"Yeah! I don't think any other monster can transform like you do, and into this awesome skeleton... beast thing? If I were a human, I'd surrender after just looking at you!"

Papyrus fidgeted. "Well, I suppose that's good..."

He didn't really want to be intimidating. That'd been what he wanted. A reason why they hadn't been allowed to change.

Apparently his discomfort was obvious, because Undyne's mood shifted. "But... being scary... that's not your style, huh? You really don't want to look like this. And it's been getting to you, and now Sans too... Maybe I'm way off, but I get the feeling... this isn't really something you want, and it's actually kind of serious."

"It's nothing to be worried about!" Papyrus uttered quickly. "I'm fine! I just miss my fashions, and my dashing good looks, and holding things like a person who doesn't have sharp claws! And fitting in my bed without having to fold myself up, and going grocery shopping, and not being trapped in my own home, and--and--"

"Hey, easy there," Undyne soothed, extending a hand across the table. "I know it's been rough on you, and Sans being gone hasn't helped. But we'll find him, and you'll get through this. Uh... hey! We should go shopping together sometime! There's whole sections for monsters with your body type, you've got all kinds of options open now. That sounds fun, right?"

Papyrus managed a laugh. "I suppose. I... I guess I ought to consider the fact this is my life now..."

He didn't want to give up. He wasn't going to! He just... had to accept that for the foreseeable future, this was how things would be. He'd said as much to Sans, hadn't he? That they should embrace all that they were? As much as he wanted to go back to his other form... he should just accept this one for now.

"That's a good idea, Undyne. Thank you. I think I should just forget worrying about it."

Undyne smiled, though not as widely as she liked to. "That might be the best idea. I also think... we should get some rest. We sorta stayed up most of the night."

She squinted for a moment.

"And now that I think about it, we didn't really need to. It's not like those kids were gonna show up at 3am..."

Papyrus chuckled. "Nyeh heh, but we were ready! Who knows! Maybe they had planned a daring escapade, sneaking out from under their parent's noses to acquire illicit grease!"

"Well, they wouldn't have gotten very far, considering Grillby's was closed by then."

"That's! A fair point. Whatever, we still had fun!"

Undyne grinned. "Yeah we did. But, I'm pretty worn out from all that, and I've still gotta patrol later, so we should rest."

"I suppose. I'm not sleepy, but... Some time to 'chill' might be nice..."

"Sounds good to me. I'm gonna take a nap, you can hang out here. Help yourself to any snacks, I don't mind."

"Okay. I will be polite about it, not to worry! Now, if it were Sans, you might..." he started to joke, but sadness overcame him. "Sans... I hope he's really okay..."

"I'm sure he's fine, wherever he is," Undyne replied, the slightest edge to her voice. "Come on, let's relax and not worry about things for a bit. You're not gonna find him any faster by stressing."

He let her take the lead again, helping her lay some spare blankets on the floor so he wasn't constantly sliding around and had a place to lay down if he wanted. But once she retired to her room, he was left in the quiet of her home. And there was nothing to keep his thoughts from echoing louder and louder within his skull.

Where was Sans? Was Flowey really responsible for his disappearance? What did he want with him anyway? If he was handling this so poorly, how was Sans holding up? Would he be alright? It hadn't been too long since he left, but in the state of mind he'd been in, and how stressed they'd been before--it had only taken him a few days to slip into old habits. Even without Flowey interfering, would Sans still...?

Papyrus curled up in the blankets and shivered as quietly as he could.

At breakfast the next day, Undyne let him know he could stay as long as he wanted, and he agreed--it was a major improvement over staying in his home alone. But as generous as Undyne's offer was, her house was even smaller than his and it only took a couple days for him to get antsy again. She came back from a shift to find him attempting to walk on the ceiling using blue magic, and her startled shout broke his concentration. He fell most of the way before catching himself and floating the rest, landing deftly on his feet. He fidgeted sheepishly under her perplexed gaze before explaining.

"I. Um. Was very bored."

Undyne blinked, and rubbed her forehead with a finger as she stepped the rest of the way into her house. "I can tell, but now there's claw marks in the plaster."

"Sorry."

"Hah! It actually looks rad, so don't worry about it. But geez, I guess being cooped up in one house isn't much better than being cooped up in another. Do I need to get you like, a chew toy or something?"

Papyrus lowered his brows. "That sounds nice... and I hate it."

"Gotcha. I just know it helps the dogs stay focused on a slow shift. I could check some stuff out of the library?"

"I've already read most of my books back home, I don't know if I want to read more..." Papyrus sighed, laying down dejectedly. "I want to do things..."

Undyne frowned. "Man, I really hate seeing you like this... And you're dead-set on not going outside?"

"Not where anyone can see," Papyrus huffed. "If Sans were here, he could just take me somewhere with a shortcut... but I guess he had better things to do."

"Hey, I know he's happy to slack off and ditch anything that looks like work, but I don't believe for a second he'd completely abandon you," Undyne snapped. "He's out there somewhere, and we'll find him--but for now, you're getting out of the house."

"How?!"

"I told you, I know some spots that are way out of the way--no one'll ever see you. I usually use 'em to train.. or.... um... reenact scenes from human history stuff Alphys has shown me... But! It's perfect! I've got another patrol in a bit, so we can head over now and you can hang out there until I'm done. How's that sound?"

Papyrus mulled it over. "And you promise no one will see?"

Undyne nodded firmly. "You have my word. C'mon, let's get some snacks and stuff for you and get going."

"Um... maybe I will take that chew toy too. Just in case."

Undyne beamed, and together they packed a small sling of supplies. Together, they snuck furtively through passages and halls before coming to a grotto leading up a cliff face. Undyne rolled her shoulders, then vaulted up the walls, quickly scaling them; after only a few moments of consideration, Papyrus followed her, leaping most of the way before digging in with his claws and hauling himself the rest of the way up. They traversed another passage, ducking stalactites and squeezing through when the passage narrowed to a fraction of its original width. It was clear why no one ever came this way--it was a hassle just to get through.

But finally the hall opened into a sizable cavern, illuminated by massive spires of glowing crystals, and a still lake filled one side towards the back. A cliff thrust dramatically over the water, and Papyrus instantly knew Undyne used it to practice monologues. No wonder she liked this spot.

"We're here!" she said cheerfully, spinning on her heel to face him as she gestured at the scenery. "I've explored every cranny of this place. There are no other offshoots of any tunnels, and it's so far away no one can hear you scream as you reach your next power level. You can do whatever you want here!"

"Thank you for showing it to me, Undyne. But now I know this secret about you," Papyrus teased.

"And if you tell anyone, I'll have to kill you," Undyne replied, a smile still on her face.

"I gladly accept!"

Undyne coughed laughing. "Oh my god! Papyrus!"

"Not to worry, Undyne, I only jest! I would never tell anyone your secrets. I'd say my lips are sealed, but I don't have any!"

Undyne burst out laughing again, and Papyrus waved his tail from side to side--joking around with Undyne always made him feel better. It was too bad she had to leave, but she had a job to do.

"Well hey, I gotta head out, but we'll hang out here after I'm done, okay?" she promised, and he watched her go feeling optimistic. He still hated having to stay away from everyone, but... at least this place was big enough to run around in.

He turned to study the cavern once more--then unhooked the sling of goodies from his spines and took off, dashing around the room, splashing through the shallows of the lake, climbing the rock formations only to leap and take off again. Oh, to run and jump and move again, why, he could just--

He opened his jaws wide to let a beam of pure magic sear through the air. He snapped his mouth shut and skidded to a halt in surprise--oh. Too soon. He'd have to get a better handle on that one for sure.

Heaving a sigh, Papyrus shook himself out with a clatter and paced over to the sling he'd left on the cave floor. Pulling it open with claws and teeth, he eyed the chew toy--a little rubber newspaper--and picked it up before walking over to the lakeside and laying down. Despite his initial reluctance to take it, it had occurred to him that if he really was going to work to accept his form as it was, he might as well indulge some of the instincts he had. It was surprisingly satisfying to squeeze the rubber between his teeth as he thought, and it helped with the general fidgetiness he'd been feeling of late.

No wonder the dogs liked this kind of thing. It was actually pretty calming.

Eventually, he lost interest though. He set the toy aside and wandered over to the other things they'd packed. Snacks... no, he wasn't hungry. He pushed a can of peanuts away, and it rolled with a clatter... He looked at it pointedly and pushed it again, harder. It rolled further and he hopped to give chase, batting and pawing at it, sending it spinning across the cave floor. He pounced on it--and it skidded from under his claws right into the lake. He went after it, but it was too late--it had already sunk out of sight. He lashed his tail in frustration, his toy gone--but a flash of white beneath the water's surface caught his eye.

He crept to the edge--and was soon entertaining himself by chasing eyeless cave fish around the shallows, summoning tiny bone mazes and watching as they wove through the obstacles to avoid him. But eventually they fled to the depths where he feared to tread, and he left the water to shake and dry off. Oh, that chewy thing looked fun again.

A sound caught his attention--one that wasn't made by him. It felt like a really long time since there'd been any sounds, and he rose into a low crouch as he listened to it draw near. A hard, clanking sound, something big--wait, he knew what it was! A friend! He'd play with them.

"Papyrus! I'm back!" Undyne called into the cavern, and was immediately tackled from behind. She rolled onto her back and kicked, sending her assailant flying with a yelp. She got to her feet, already beaming. "Hah! You thought you could pull one over on ME?! I'm the Captain of the Royal freakin' Guard, punk!"

Papyrus had risen as well, and fixed her with a daring look--before taking off across the room, only to circle back and bark at her when she didn't follow.

"What, you think this is a GAME?!" she bellowed, and took off after him. They wove around the room, throwing out bones and spears alike to try tripping each other up; Undyne was fast, but on four legs, Papyrus was faster and ran circles around her, sometimes stopping just out of reach as if to taunt her.

Wait. Why wasn't he just taunting her?

"Dude, Papyrus, timeout," she called, slowing to a jog. Papyrus continued to trot around her mockingly. She scowled, and cast a spear horizontally in his path--he leapt over it easily and didn't slow down at all, jumping over it again as he circled back around. "Oh come on!"

He trilled something that almost sounded like "nyeh heh heh", and Undyne squinted.

"Uh, Papyrus...? Why aren't you talking?"

Finally, he seemed to slow down, and confusion danced briefly on his face. But then he went back to trotting at full speed, that mischievous look back on his face.

Undyne frowned, and brandished another spear. With a wave, Papyrus' soul flashed green, and he was suddenly locked in place. He gave a playful growl as he spun to face her, tail lashing. Light gathered in his jaws--Undyne lunged forward, wrapping her hand around his muzzle. His eyes went wide in surprise, and white-hot sparks shot from between his teeth as he coughed on his unfired beam. Undyne let him go, and he spluttered for a bit more before shaking himself out and staring at the ground.

"Ahem. Oh dear."

"Papyrus?"

He looked up at her. "Yes."

Undyne made a face at him. "Did you forget how to talk or something?"

Papyrus winced. "Um. Maybe a little."

"How does that even happen? Are you okay?" Undyne asked, and Papyrus shook himself out again before sitting and staring at his feet.

"It's so easy sometimes," he uttered, and she lowered a brow.

"To forget how to talk?"

"To forget how to person."

Undyne grimaced. "Is that... part of your... um. Transformation?"

Papyrus shrugged. "A little, I guess. There are some things that just make more sense, like this. Like, how to smell things, how to chase... It's like parts of my brain wake up--or would, if I had a brain. But, it's like other parts want to sleep. Ones that... supposedly are less useful."

Undyne saw the subtle shiver that ran through him.

But Papyrus quickly puffed his chest out. "But it's fine! They only want to sleep, and I don't sleep! I slipped up a little bit today, but that's okay! I'm still me!"

"Yeah you are," Undyne affirmed, punching him lightly in the shoulder and knocking him off balance. "Still, should I, uh, be worried about it?"

"No! Because you'll be able to break me out of it! You're great at breaking things!"

"Heck yeah! Don't worry Papyrus, I've got your back," Undyne reassured him. "You ready to head home?"

"Yes! I think I'm in sore need of some bad television. Just the thing to take my mind off losing my mind!"

"Papyrus, oh my god."

It was much later, long after Undyne had gone to bed, that Papyrus let himself think about what had happened. It was unsettling how easily he'd given in to instinct today. And sure, he was trying to accept himself for what he was, and that meant accepting those instincts too. But until he was used to engaging all parts of his mind equally--as easily as he'd once exchanged one form for another--it was too easy to slip firmly into what he had wanted him to be. Was it really their training that made it so alluring, or was it something intrinsic about this form that made acting on instinct so easy...?

He really had to wonder how Sans was doing on that front.

The doctor had had him the longest, pushed him the hardest. He'd never been able to mold him into the perfectly obedient weapon he desired, but he'd worn him down until there was little left but his instincts, and that was almost as good in the doctor's eyes. Papyrus had managed to encourage him to reclaim the full range of his senses and intelligence, but it hadn't been easy, and Sans had relapsed many times before they'd finally sent the doctor to his fate.

But they weren't in the lab anymore; wherever Sans was, Papyrus had doubts it was nearly as harsh.

#undertalethingem writes #undertale #gaster blaster au #papyrus (undertale)#Undyne (undertale)#flowey (undertale)#coming up with a title for this chapter was hard =u=;;#bark at the moon fic

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cringeyvanillamilk · 4 years

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Yoo~! Your modern au series is pretty entertaining. Please do one for Gordon (and Grey and Gauche too if you don't mind; I love this trio) in the future! 😊❣❣

I finally finished your request!! I’m happy to finally draw these three, especially Gordon! I hope you enjoy~! <3

Gordon Agrippa

Loves reading various types of books, specifically ones about the power of friendship

Has a lot of knowledge on pharmaceutical drugs and medicine due to family background

Current Career: Freelance Writer, but currently works at Black Bull’s cafe

Was part of the book club and knitting club at Clover academy

Performs poetry every night at the Black Bull’s cafe

Fashion: Gordon has a love for gothic victorian inspired fashion. He finds this type of fashion to be aesthetically pleasing, which is greatly inspired by his family who also loves this particular clothing style. Any clothes with chains, belts, and studs will most likely catch his eyes. He also loves wearing his signature cap with his outfit. The colors that he usually wears are mostly black, grey, and red. He likes to wear gothic jewelry where he sees fits and completes the look with dark eyeshadow, black lipstick, and black nail polish. Despite this dark image, Gordon loves to decorate himself with cute and bright buttons to make himself more approachable. The buttons include a happy face, a pansexual flag, and a strawberry. Overall, Gordon’s fashion is goth with a sprinkle of cute accessories.

The Agrippa family had an infamous reputation of owning a pharmacy store that was rumored to secretly provide immoral people with drugs that could potentially poison those they want dead. While this rumor was true generations ago, Gordon’s father, Nathan, wanted to turn their family’s reputation around and become a pharmacist that helps people with their health. But due to the lack of proper communication between Nathan and Gordon, Gordon assumes that his father wants to continue their family’s sick tradition and left to live on his own near the capital. While Gordon successfully attended Clover academy through achievements and awards in writing, he spent the majority of his life in isolation. Even though he joined a lot of clubs in the academy, people still didn’t want to befriend him. And despite getting his English degree, Gordon has trouble getting jobs due to his intimidating appearance. After being rejected by a lot of jobs, Gordon decided to stop by the Black Bull’s cafe to rest and find more jobs to apply. This is where he met Yami who noticed that Gordon was looking for a job and offered him a spot at the Black Bull’s cafe since they are short of staff. Yami also commented that his creepy appearance would be perfect to bring in more customers. This was the first time Gordon experienced someone wanting him to be a part of something and was overwhelmed with happiness. He now works happily at the Black Bull’s cafe while also looking for a job that fits his passion.

Random Fact: Gordon is an amazing cook. He is part of the cooking team at Black Bull’s cafe along with Charmy and Gauche. He specializes in desserts and can make any types of sweets (e.g., cake, cookies, etc.). Gordon usually makes cookies for the staff to eat with each cookie representing each one of them. Gordon isn’t good at designing people in his baking and so they look very creepy. He’s really good at making Halloween themed desserts, even when he isn’t trying. Since strawberry shortcake is his favorite food, you’ll always see him make it every day. His love for strawberry shortcake is the reason behind his strawberry button.

Gauche Adlai

Owns a mirror that was previously owned by his deceased parents

Had a bad reputation from stealing from stores and getting into street fights when he lived in the streets

Possible major: Photography

Has a room full of photos of just Marie, but he has a secret stash where the photos are of the Black Bull’s cafe employees being happy (don’t tell anyone)

Has won many photography competitions with each photo being related to Marie in some way

Fashion: Gauche doesn’t pay too much attention to his daily clothes, but he does know how to dress himself for any occasion. He prefers tasteful and simple clothes, nothing too fancy. You’ll usually see him with a collar shirt, jacket, and slacks. He also likes wearing vintage shoes because he finds it aesthetically pleasing to his eyes. He generally shops at any thrift store nearby, unless it’s Marie then he’ll shop at an expensive clothing store. Gauche’s fashion may lean more towards hipster if he spends a lot of money on himself. Overall, simple but somewhat stylish.

When Gauche and Marie were young, they had a healthy relationship with their parents who loved and cared for them with all their heart. Their father was a respected and rich businessman and their mother was a famous war photographer. Each time their mother would come back home from her trips, she would usually share the happy photos she took to Gauche and Marie. Seeing these happy pictures inspired Gauche to follow in her footsteps in becoming a photographer. Gauche specifically wanted to take pictures of people who are happy because seeing people smile makes him feel good. But one goal he hopes to complete is creating a photo album of his family being happy together. After receiving his first camera from his father, Gauche was ready to start his photo album once his mother came back home from her trip. When Gauche’s father went to pick up their mother from the airport, Gauche and Marie received terrible news that they both died in a ‘car accident’ on their way back home. This accident was actually orchestrated by his uncle who wanted to inherit their wealth and kicked Gauche and Marie out of their mansion. After being left on the streets, Gauche decided to take it upon himself and take care of Marie like how his parents would’ve wanted him to. Acting as a reliable older brother and the only family Marie has, they frequently moved to different locations to look for food and shelter. They were later taken in by an orphanage led by sister Theresa. Gauche had a talent in photography and was pushed by sister Theresa to compete in various contests where he won 1st place in each one. These great achievements led him to be chosen by Clover academy, but quickly rejected the offer since that would mean he’ll have to dorm at the academy away from Marie. During their walks, Marie found out about Gauche’s rejection to the academy and was upset that Gauche would decline such a great offer. Gauche argues that he doesn’t want to leave her alone which made Marie feel even more frustrated and ran inside a nearby cafe. This is where he met Yami, who happened to eavesdrop on their conversation. Yami reasoned that if Gauche really cared for Marie, he’d bring in more money to support her if he managed to graduate from the academy and go to college. Then when he’s financially secured, he and Marie can live on their own with no need for outside assistance. Yami’s words were able to convince Gauche to proceed in attending Clover academy which made Marie happy. As a way to show thanks, Marie said if the cafe needed any help, Gauche would be happy to work for him. Gauche was about to disagree but Yami was quick to accept Gauche into the cafe and promise Marie that he’ll keep Gauche busy. Gauche had no say in the matter since Marie already sealed the deal with Yami.

Random Fact: Gauche has a talent in art. Whether it’s sculpting, drawing, painting, or knitting, Gauche can replicate anything he sees. Even in baking, he can replicate any object or person as a cake. In fact, Gauche’s extraordinary skills would’ve been perfect for the recent cake cutting trend. However, Gauche mainly uses his younger sister, Marie, as a model for all of his artistic creations. If you go inside his room, you’ll see a shrine of sculptures, drawings, paintings, and dolls of Marie.

Grey

Likes to cosplay and attend conventions

Finds comfort in watching Cinderella

Possible major: Acting

Was an exceptional actress back in high school and would get chosen for lead roles but always decline these roles because of her sisters bullying

Has a great singing voice and likes to hum whenever she cleans

Fashion: Grey is incredibly shy and so her fashion reflects this. Grey’s casual attire is very modest and rarely shows a lot of skin. She likes to wear sweaters, long pants or skirts, and blue flats that her father got her as a birthday present. However, whenever she imitates a character for a cosplay or theater play, she becomes a completely different person and could wear very revealing clothes if it fits the character she’s impersonating. Grey likes showing off a lot of skin when she’s in character because this gives her an excuse to be confident in herself. Outside of her cosplays, Grey rarely wears jewelry since she thinks she doesn’t deserve to decorate herself with pretty things. Grey does value her belt since it was another gift from her father. Overall, Grey’s fashion is modest and warm.

Grey came from a middle class family where she used to live with her father, stepmother, and two elder stepsisters. Her father owns a small boutique store and her stepmother co-owns the store with her father. While her father showered Grey with love, her stepmother and stepsisters mistreated her and forced her to do all the chores in the house. They frequently lied to her father saying that she always wanted to do all the chores and didn't like going out with them since she prefers to stay at home. Because Grey’s father was oblivious of his daughter’s struggles, he never questioned it whenever they would go out without her. Grey was too meek to speak out and so she would go along with what they said in silence. During her time alone, she would always watch anime or DVDs of musical plays whenever she was done cleaning the place and making food. Grey always dreamed of being an actress in a play or show, but would get ridiculed for wanting to pursue such a career. Grey still tries to participate in various plays or get into cosplay where she gets to act like a completely different person. Grey finds herself comfortable as another character and still yearns to be an actress and so she auditioned for her school’s plays. She would get chosen for major roles in the plays, but when her stepsisters found out, they bullied her into going for a minor role instead. After graduating high school, Grey was ordered to stay home and not go to college to continuously be a servant for the family. Despite wanting to go to college to be an actress, Grey obeyed and continued to take care of the house for many years. It wasn’t until one day when Grey wanted to find a way to get closer to her stepsisters where she decided to dress up and perfectly transformed herself into looking like one of her stepsisters. Her stepsisters were outraged by her impersonation and threatened her which made Grey run away in fear. While on the streets, Grey was jumped by three muggers, but was saved by Gauche by Marie’s request. Gauche said if she’s running away, she should try and live for herself which inspired Grey to follow Gauche into the Black Bull’s cafe. With no courage to go back home, she was told by Vanessa that she could live at her place in the meantime while she gets back on her feet. Gauche commented that she should also start working at the cafe if she wanted to make enough money to support herself now that she’s starting fresh. Grey gratefully took Vanessa and Gauche’s offer and so now lives with Vanessa at her apartment, attends the same college as Gauche, and works at the Black Bull’s cafe.

Random Fact: Grey is great at doing makeup when she wants to replicate another character or person for her cosplay or costume. Whenever she attends anime conventions, she is complimented a lot for perfectly imitating the characters she cosplayed as. Even during cosplay contests, she would always place 1st place for her high quality clothes, wigs, and makeup. Grey thanks her father for teaching her these skills when she was young.

#black clover #Gordon Agrippa #gauche adlai #grey #modern au #my art #answered #I feel like I wrote a lot for their backstories in comparison to the other ones I've done-#I think I got too excited that's why-#Thank you for the request~!#I HOPE THEIR BACKSTORIES MAKE SENSE?

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dansantat · 5 years

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44 (The Annual Birthday Rant)

THE BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT I EVER RECEIVED FROM A STRANGER

What I’m about to tell you all happened about twelve days ago.

I was walking outside of my local grocery store when an African American man approached me. He slowly approached with a wide grin on his face and was dressed in an old brown secondhand suit that was a few sizes too big. Although his physique indicated he was maybe ten to fifteen years older than me he looked much older and worn. He had a story to tell

“Now, I’m not gonna hurt cha,” the man said.

I stood and smiled hesitantly.

“How can I help you?” I asked.

“You probably don’t remember me, but we met before… a few years back.”

I searched through my mind, but found nothing. “Oh really? Where did we meet? A book store event? A school?”

The man stopped his approach. He stood safely about ten feet away.

“We met here.”

My mind still drew a blank.

“Anyway, sir, I don’t want to take up too much of your time…. But I wanted to give you this…”

He reached into the pocket of his oversized suit and slowly pulled out a healthy wad of nicely folded cash.

And then in that instant. I remembered.

It happened two years ago in 2017. I bought groceries and was carrying the bags to my car. A homeless African American man wearing tattered clothes hobbled with a limb over in my direction. He was in rough shape. He clearly hadn’t showered in weeks and his body appeared gaunt, and malnourished.

“Hey, man, I was wonderin’ if you could spare some change?” he asked.

I placed my groceries into the trunk of my car and pulled out my wallet. I had just gone to the ATM because I was going to go out to breakfast with some friends after dropping off the groceries at home.

I pulled out a $20 and gave it to the man. His eyes popped open wide and a huge grin crossed his face. I would typically only give a few dollars in a situation like this, but today was special.

“Aw, thank you, sir, I really appreciate it! God bless!”

Just as he was about to walk away I stopped him.

“Wait,” I hollered, “Hold up.”

The man turned and looked back at me. I paused for a moment thinking about what I was about to do.

“*sigh* Today’s your lucky day.” I said

I opened my wallet and gave him all the cash that was inside.

“Here. Take it all.”

The man was flabbergasted. “Wh-….. What?”

“You look like you need it way more than I do. There’s about $400 here… Just take it.”

“Wh…wh…why are you doing this?” he stammered

I paused for a moment. Was I really doing the right thing? You hear people tell you not to give money to homeless people because they’ll just go use that money to buy drugs or alcohol, but I proceeded with my decision, “It’s my birthday today, and every year I always make it a point to do something special for someone to make their day better, and today you’re the lucky person, I guess.”

The first time I ever decided to be generous on my birthday was at a local car wash on my 35th birthday. Now, I never found much value in the machines that car washing facilities provide. Those contraptions that you would drive your car though to get washed. It was simply a series of spray hoses and soap suds being lazily dragged over your car by a set of waving rags. The real cleaning job was done from the guy after that process. The guy who would drive your car off to a dry corner of the lot and scrub off those tough stains with a spray bottle and a towel. Here in LA, they were most likely illegal immigrants earning a measly wage just enough to get by here in Los Angeles (one of the most expensive cities in the country) The man who cleaned my car that day spent a half hour wiping off the dashboard, and the tires, and even parts of the door joints you wouldn’t normally expect a car wash employee to clean. The guy was cleaning my car better than I would have ever done myself, and when I approached the car it was absolutely immaculate.

The car wash was only $19.

That day, I gave the man $40.

He was so grateful he shook my hand with a smile, and in exchange I felt amazing. I helped make his day a good one and it was an absolutely wonderful feeling.

Ever since then I try to do something kind for someone on my birthday. It’s my gift to myself.

In the years following I would give $40 tips to waitresses, $60 tips to a trio of buskers, I once bought an entire box of candy from a kid who rang my doorbell trying to save up money for camp. That was about $75.

But this was $400. What the hell was I doing?

The man waved off the money. “$400?! That’s too much,” he responded, “I can’t accept all that! A dude gets stabbed on the streets carrying that kind of cash around”

“I want you to have it, and I don’t want to sound rude, but you look like you need this money way more than I do.”

He stood hesitant. His own pride was preventing him from taking the money.

“What are you doing with that much cash on you? You a doctor or something?”

“HAHA! No, but there was a time my parents wished I was.”

The man looked at me with a hint of suspicion.

“You’re crazy. How do you know I’m not gonna go use this to go buy crack or something like that?”

“HA HA! Are you?” I laughed. The thought of the possibility of my own hard earned money being used to buy illegal drugs was somewhat humorous to me at the time.

“N- NO! NO! I won’t! I promise! But are you sure you want to give me all this? I don’t even know you.”

I hesitated, half thinking for a split second that I would perhaps reconsider and just give him an extra $20, but what would an extra $20 do for a man who needed so much more help than that? What if he had enough money to change his course in life if he really wanted to? From that perspective, $400 seemed like just a drop in the bucket.

But maybe it was also a start?

“I’m not sure, but I know that no matter how you got into this situation, I know it’s not because you’re a bad person. You’ve probably just hit a string of bad luck.Hell, for all I know maybe you WILL blow all this money on booze and drugs, I don’t know… But what I am hoping, is that it gives you a chance to get back on your feet if you really want to…”

The man glanced back at the money.

“Take it. No strings attached. Do whatever you want with it. Buy booze or crack or whatever you want with it. I’m not gonna lecture you on how to live your life because, dude, you’re already totally down on your luck and I think that you just deserve a little kindness. You know the mistakes you’ve made and you don’t need to explain yourself to me or anyone. I just thought this money would help make things a little bit easier for you, that’s all.”

The man looked away for a moment. His lower lip trembling. Then he slowly glanced back and took the money.

“Thank you….. God Bless you, sir. I really appreciate it.”

“Take care of yourself.” I replied as he walked away.

The man walked away and never looked back.

Now here we are.

Two years later.

Standing in the same parking lot in front of the same grocery store.

My jaw drops open.

“Holy shit! I remember you! You’re that guy! LOOK AT YOU! I DON’T EVEN RECOGNIZE YOU!” I shouted.

“Now you remember me, right!? HA HA!”

This man’s voice once a whisper was now strong and deep as if his lungs consumed every molecule of oxygen around him and projected it out like water from a fire hose. He was no longer gaunt, but healthy, if not slightly overweight. His hair was clean and trimmed, but he still carried himself awkwardly with a shaky newfound confidence that now occupied a body that once resembled a dilapidated house.

“You look amazing! Where have you been!?”

“Aw man, It’s a long story-“

“I’ve got time!”

“Well-“ he hesitated

And then I paused.

“Wait. I’m- I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I just want you to know that I’m really REALLY proud of you, man. I know we don’t know each other, but dude, you’ve completely changed. I don’t even recognize you. You look amazing.”

There was an awkward pause in our conversation. We were like two friends who had just reunited after a long absence, but suddenly also realized at that moment that we were also two complete strangers who knew nothing about one other. The man took a deep breath, “I’ve been coming around to this grocery store every now and then hoping I would run into you…I’d stand out here waiting for you for a half hour or so hoping you’d come by to buy groceries… I wanted to thank you for the kindness you showed me a few years back and… and I wanted to finally pay you back.”

He grabs my hand and presses the nicely folded bills into my hand. The folds and creases tell me they’ve been sitting folded like this for quite a while.

“$400. Every cent of it.”

“Hey, you don’t need to do this. It was my pleasure. I’m glad the money helped, you can keep it.” I reply.

“Well… “ he paused, “I don’t want it. Too many painful memories from it.. That day you gave me that money I took it and I used it all to get high.”

“Oh…Shit… I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have-”

“And afterwards there were some more really rough months after that. I felt so ashamed. I hated myself and I didn’t wanna live no more so one day I couldn’t take it anymore and I went over to the Colorado Street Bridge and I was gonna climb the fence and jump off…. I was gonna kill myself and end it all… but I chickened out.”

(FYI, The Colorado Street Bridge is the bridge you see in the movie, LA LA LAND)

“Man, I was so scared, and I was crying on the ground and I was thinking about my wife leavin’ me… and how I let my son down, and now he had his own son.. you see, I’m a grandfather, and I got so messed up I couldn’t be around any of them, you know?”

Meanwhile, my groceries were sitting in the hot car. My milk was going to go bad, but I continued to hang on to his every word.

“So shortly after that incident the cops pick me up off the side of the bridge and they take me to this local homeless shelter. I get cleaned up, I get a little something to eat, and then later on that evening they gathered us all around in the cafeteria at one point and they read us this story called, After the Fall.”

I was shocked.

“Wait... What? That’s my book.” I responded

“Yeah, I know! The book changed my life, man! Humpty Dumpty finding the courage to change his life like that? It inspired me! It made me want to change! And so I see your name on the cover and one day I went to the library with my social worker to look up more of your books and I see your picture in one of the books and I thought, HOLY SHIT! That’s the guy who gave me the $400! I recognize those eyebrows from anywhere! This is a sign from God!”

“HAHAHA!”

“So, I’m getting’ all psyched up and inspired and the social worker helped me get me a sponsor, and after a while I got myself cleaned up and started working around town. I used to be a carpenter, and I was doin’ odd jobs here and there and so now I work at a hardware store.”

He pauses for a moment and takes another deep breath.

“You see, I got myself a work related injury years ago and I had to stop working. Then when my insurance wore out I was still in pain and I started trying to find any kind of drugs I could to help with the pain, man. It was awful. I got addicted to painkillers, over time it cost me my marriage, I lost my house, and my kid moved away and he started a family of his own…. I haven’t seen my kid in years. They all wanted to help but you can only be helped if you want to be helped, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry to hear that, man”

The man begins to cry a little

“And I knew they cared about me, but…. But I let them down, and there’s just a point when the people you love just can’t stand seeing you hurt yourself no more, and they couldn’t stand watching me tear myself apart like that, you know?”

The man’s story cuts me like a knife. I’m starting to well up with tears. We’re now two strangers crying in front of each other in the middle of a grocery store parking lot. The manager of the grocery store who I see often sees us crying outside

“Is everything okay here guys?”

“Yeah yeah yeah, We’re good. We’re just talking,” I rapidly answer as I wipe tears from my cheek. The manager walks back inside.

“…Uh… Weird question… You know my name now, but, do you mind if I ask you your name?”

“…I’m Randall.”

“Well, I’m glad you got your life back together, Randall. I’m sorry about all that stuff that happened with your family but I think what you accomplished with getting your life back together was huge and, I mean, I don’t know you, but man, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, brother. I just wanted to see you in person so I could give you back that money… oh, and I was hoping you could sign this for me….”

Randall reaches inside his oversized brown suit and pulls out a copy of After the Fall and hands it to me with a pen.

“I’ve been carrying this around with me for a few months now hoping I’d see you. The shelter gave it to me. Would you mind signing it?” he asks.

“I’d be honored, Randall… Do you want me to make it out to you?”

“Please make it out to Randall the Third”

“Wait… your grandson?”

“I’m going out to see my son and his family next week. They live out in Arizona.”

“That’s amazing. Are you nervous?”

“I’m excited to see my grandson, but I’m terrified I could screw things up with my family again.” Randall mutters.

“Well, you made it this far. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just take it one step at a time.” I reply.

“Just like Humpty did. One step at a time.” says Randall.

I sign the book...

To Randall III, Your grandfather is a true inspiration to me.

Dan Santat

“Thank you, God bless.”

“No, Randall, thank you. This was the most amazing birthday gift I think I’ve ever received.”

“Oh, it’s your birthday today?!”

“No, it’s in twelve days. Heh… it’s when my milk expires”

“Oh shit. I should let you get going man, I’m sorry I took up all your time!”

“No, man. No! I’m so glad you did this and that we could catch up... and…. Here.”

I pull out the $400 and I hand it back to Randall.

“What are you doin?”

“I know you don’t need this, so I’m not giving you this money. Get something nice for your family, you know, a housewarming gift or something, that’s all. If you ever want to pay me back you know where to find me.”

In this parking lot.

In front of this grocery store.

“Use it to buy a huge ass teddy bear for Randall the Third. Shit get him a Playstation 4 or something I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned you worked so hard to get where you are now and you earned every cent of this. This money should be yours”

“HA HA HA! Aw sheeeeeeit….Thank you, brother.”

I grab Randall’s hand and I place the nicely folded wad of cash into his palm.

“Well, I should get goin’…” Randall says.

“Yeah, me too.”

Then after a few quiet moments we exchange a hug.

“Thank you, Dan Santat…. God Bless you.” Randall whispers

“Take care” I reply

We complete our goodbyes and then head off in our own opposite directions.

I’ve received lots of amazing gifts over my 44 years, but never one as incredible as the rebirth and transformation of Randall.

Peace.

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llnwritings · 4 years

Text

♫ JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS APPRECIATION WEEK ♫

DAY 6 | Write a fic with your favourite fanfiction trope.

Summary: Alex is one of the few special people born with a soulmate mark. However, unfortunately at a young age the mark fades and leaves a scar, indicating that his soulmate has died. Alex knew he wasn’t meant to be happy.

Trigger warnings: Bad Parenting, Homophobic Language

[[Read on Ao3]]

Everyone knew about the stories of soul marks, those lucky few born with a name written on their wrist of the person that they were destined to love and be loved by. The name was written in grey, that was until you met your soulmate, then the name changed to your soulmate’s favourite colour when you touched each other for the first time. Or so the stories went. Soulmarks were so rare that there wasn’t much research into how they really worked.

Alex was one of those lucky few. Born with the name William written in blocky handwriting on his right wrist, it was one of the first words he learnt to read and recognise. But as happy as his parents were that he was special and he had a soulmate, there was unsaid tension between the two of them. His mother was supportive as much as she could be, but his father was distant and cold. It wasn't until Alex was six that he learnt why, the memory forever seared into his young mind.

----

Six year old Alex was too excited to sleep, in the next few days he would be starting school. Ever since he could remember, his parents hadn’t really allowed him to play with other kids and even when he did, his father had always made sure he had a leather cuff attached to his wrist that he was forbidden to take off in front of others, under threat of punishment. It hid his mark, something that made Alex sad and nervous. His father would always put it on too tight, which would leave red markings for days.

But soon he would be going to big boy school and his mother had even said that she would talk to father about not wearing the cuff to school. Alex quietly walked down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen for a drink, but he stopped when he heard voices talking. He crouched against the hallway wall and listened as his parents argued loudly.

"Mark please," He heard mother beg, "Let’s at least talk about this. Think about what's best for Alex, is our local standing more important than our son’s happiness? Let him love whoever he wants, for all we know, he’ll never even meet this William."

"I am Allison, no son of mine will be a flaming homosexual," His father hissed at his wife, spitting the last word out like a curse, "That name will bring this family nothing but trouble and shame. Once they find out about his mark, how will we look to the neighbours? Work colleagues? My boss? The church? No, my mind is made up! I'll take him to the centre tomorrow and they will remove the mark. No one needs to ever know about that thing on his wrist."

“You’ll be destroying a part of him,” His mother sobbed, “Why would you want to do that? What if he hates you when he grows up, what if he never forgives you?”

His father was silent and Alex peered around the edge of the doorway hoping to catch a glimpse of the man. His father ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I can live with Allison. He can hate me all he wants but I’m looking out for what’s best for this family. I will not stand for my own flesh and blood loving the same gender under my roof. My decision’s final.”

Alex crept out back down the hallway and back towards his bedroom, his drink totally forgotten. He frowned at the words his father was saying, not really understanding what they meant. Looking down at his wrist, he traced the name, Alex didn't think William was a bad name and so what if it was a boy's name, boy’s were awesome, Alex would love to spend all his time with another boy, all he had at the moment was a sister and she was no fun at all. Girls weren't fun to play with either, they all had cooties.

Alex got back into bed and tried to go to sleep, but his mind was going a million miles an hour. His father’s words repeating themselves over and over again, Alex couldn’t understand how loving someone could be wrong. It was nearly 3 in the morning before Alex was finally able to drift off.

The trip to the center never happened.

The next morning, Alex woke up screaming in pain and all the noise he made caused mother to come rushing into his bedroom still in her pajamas, worry etched into her face.

“Honey, what’s wrong,” She came and sat on the edge of his bed, her hands reaching to comfort her son.

“It hurts,” Alex cried, tears streaming down his face, as he pushed his wrist into his mother’s open hands, “It hurts.”

Allison frowned, looking down at her son’s wrist, she gasped in shock. The once grey name was slowly fading away to nothingness, the edge of the name an angry red as if someone had burnt the skin. The change in the name could only mean one thing, Alex’s soulmate had died before they even had the chance to meet.

Allison wrapped her arms around the sobbing boy and comforted him the best she could, not knowing the pain he was feeling or how to make it stop.

“It’s going to be alright, honey,” She whispered as she held him close and rubbed his back, “We’ll get through this. You’re going to be fine.” Allison repeated the words over and over again, not just for Alex’s sake but for her own as well, her heart breaking at the sounds he was making.

Alex continued to cry, not only from the pain in his wrist but from a pain he felt deep within himself, a pain that he couldn’t put into words. It was like something broke and he didn’t know how to fix it. He curled into his mother’s embrace, his face tucked into her neck, he wanted her to fix the pain but somehow knew that she couldn’t.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Alex’s sobs had turned into sniffles as he cried himself back to sleep. Allison layed her son back down on his bed and tucked the blankets around him. She gave him a kiss on the forehead and quietly left the bedroom to find her husband.

She found him in the kitchen, sitting at the table with the newspaper out and a coffee in hand.

“You’ll be happy to know that you got what you wanted and you didn't have to spend any money at all,” Allison spoke softly to her husband as she made herself a cup of strong black coffee, “Your son’s soulmark faded and scarred last night. William is dead.” Allison sat down at the opposite end of the table, letting her words sink in, “You don’t have to be ashamed anymore. No one will be able to tell that our son was to have a soulmate."

"Good then," Mark scoffed and went back to his newspaper. He dropped the matter for now.

----

Years went on and Alex grew up, he never did forget the name William and would still spend time tracing over the light scarring on his wrist when he was feeling sad. The name was hardly visible now, only if you knew it was there and where to look, could you see it. Alex never told a soul that he used to have a mark, he never saw the point.

His dad’s attitude never changed towards Alex, no matter how hard he tried to please him. He went to school, got excellent grades, went to church, he was a good son but no matter what he did, his dad never looked at him with pride, love or affection. Alex knew it was because of the soulmark he used to have, just by having a boy’s name on him had tainted himself in his dad’s eyes forever. He was older enough to recognise the looks his dad would give same sex couples walking down the street hand in hand, were the same ones he would he would give Alex before hiding his mark with that leather cuff.

So at age 14, Alex stopped trying to please his dad. He still did well in school - he actually liked learning - but he stopped going to church, not seeing the point of it and always found a reason to not be in the house if his dad was home. He became friends with Luke, Reggie and Bobby and started a band. Sunset Curve was on its way to be a huge success! Well according to Luke anyway.

At age 16, Alex took a chance on love, but was caught kissing a boy behind the high school gym. When his dad had been told from one of his church friends, he blew his top and knocked Alex around before kicking him out of the house, saying he never wanted to see him again. Alex spent the night on Bobby’s pullout couch.

He spent a lot of nights on Bobby’s couch, luckily his parents were cool having a teenager crash with them. Bobby’s parents had spoken to Alex’s mum and they came to an agreement. Alex would stay at Bobby’s for the foreseeable future, at least until Alex’s mum could convince Alex’s dad to let him come home and she would pay them for the inconvenience of housing another teenage boy.

He never did make it home.

Alex, along with Luke and Reggie died at 17 to a hotdog and not even a good tasting one! After their death, the trio spent 25 years in a black room and in that time Alex never noticed his soulmark return to its grey colouring and the scarring disappeared.

----

Alex wasn’t handling being a ghost very well, the lack of answers to things was driving him insane. While Luke and Reggie’s lack of concern was causing his anxiety to skyrocket. He needed to get away and breathe.

Alex poofed out of the studio and found him on Hollywood Boulevard. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on slowing down his thoughts. After a few moments, he reopened his eyes only to jump in fright when he caught sight of two ghostbusters ahead of him. It was stupid to that they were here for him, Alex freaked out as they began to walk purposefully towards him.

“No, no, no,” Alex whispered in fright, only for the two ghostbusters to walk straight through him, “Oh,” Alex glanced around to see if anyone saw his freak out, he then huffed and rolled his eyes at himself. He was dead, no one could see him.

With a sigh, Alex started to walk down the street, his thoughts starting to roam again.

Still lost in his thoughts, Alex was completely unaware of his surroundings. He gasped out in shock as someone collided with his shoulder, sending them both to the floor with a thud. Pain burst from his wrist at the contact, leaving Alex confused, while being a ghost things weren’t supposed to hurt.

Alex heard the other person to his right grunt in pain as well.

Alex pulled himself to his feet, while rubbing his wrist, the pain had now receded to a tingle.

“Uh, man you dinged my board,” Alex heard the other person moan.

“I dinged your board,” Alex huffed, “No dude,you ran me over, you’re lucky I didn’t-” Alex blinked, realizing that there was only one reason as to why this guy could have knocked him over in the first place, “Yo-you ran me over. You’re a ghost?”

“Well yeah,” The other ghost unbuckled his helmet, “Ever since I learnt the hard way that skating in traffic was bad.” Alex watched, slacked jawed as the ghost removed his helmet and shook out his hair.

‘Oh no, he’s hot.’

As they made eye contact, Alex saw something change in the other ghost’s demeanor, he no longer looked annoyed about his skateboard.

“Hey, sorry I smashed into you,” He apologised. “I thought you were a lifer and I’d just, like, pass through.”

Alex blinked at the term, “Uh, a lifer?”

“Uh yeah,” The other teen looked confused, “That’s what we call people who are living.”

Alex nodded his understanding but was still slightly confused.

“You’re new to this whole ghost thing, aren’t you?”

Alex winced, “Yeah, is it that obvious?”

“Totally,’ The other ghost laughed, but not in a mean way.

The other ghost then stuck out his hand, “Hey uh, I’m Willie.”

“Oh, uh Alex,” Alex took the offered hand and shook it.

“Ah.” “Ow.”

Both ghost’s quickly released the other’s hand and grabbed their wrists to ward off the sharp tingle. Alex looked down at his wrist and watched in shock as the grey of his soulmark changed to blue. Alex looked up to see Willie looking back at him in awe.

“Alex, as in short for Alexander?” Willie asked softly, turning over his wrist to show Alex’s name written in his own handwriting and coloured pink.

“Oh wow, yeah that’s me,” Alex blinked in shock at his name, gently taking a hold of Willie’s wrist to get a closer look, “I thought you died,” The blonde frowned and looked back to Willie, “Well I guess technically you did die, if you're standing here as a ghost. I’ve never heard of a faded mark regaining colour before.”

Willie smiled as he listened to Alex ramble on. It was cute.

“I guess that means Willie is short for William then?” Alex asked hopefully, turning over his own wrist for Willie to see.

Willie traced over his own handwriting with his thumb on Alex’s wrist, “Yeah that’s my writing,” Willie looked back to Alex, “Say, you doing anything right now?”

“No,” Alex tilted his head in confusion, “Why?”

“Want to hang out? I could show you around and answer your ghost questions. If you have fun, maybe we could hang out again?”

“Uh, okay, that sounds fine.”

“And by hang out, I mean do you want to go on a date?” Willie wasn’t masking his intentions, he had been without his soulmate for years and he wasn’t going to screw this up now that he had found him.

“A date sounds fun,” Alex squeaked out with a smile.

“Awesome.” Willie took a hold of Alex’s hand and poofed them to one of his favourite places, he had a soulmate to woo.

The End

#jatpweek #Willex #jatp alex #jatp willie #jatp fic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fic #llnwrites #tw homophobic language #no caleb #soulmate marks

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witchcraftingboop · 4 years

Text

Further Insight on Briar's Recent Discourse & Prim's Apparent Grooming of Younger, Newer Witches

It was suggested to me that instead of making one long post (which I was genuinely sorry for creating in the moment as well), that I should offer the second half in a separate one so that it is easier to share and harder to simply ignore as a wall of text.

Here is the link to the first half of the current JBird and Briar discourse floating around. I highly encourage everyone involved in the Witchblr community to review both posts and not just this final addition.

Regarding Prim stirring the pot, I actually do have proof of that on my page somewhere if you wouldn't mind my sending it to you? The person I reblogged it from, Mahi, also received death threats from Prim when they were only 16 and Prim was 20 (I can't ask him to share that though because Prim has since used her following to drive him off of Tumblr and he's still fairly [and justifiably] sensitive about it.)

Regarding Briar's statements more specifically though, I can see where the confusion is coming from. After the "in France" part, she's just defining a relevant term (hence the use of "irrelevant details) and then giving an explanation of how she came to be so knowledgeable about that term/concept. I wouldn't say she's calling Prim's activism an "irrelevant detail," but pointing out how Prim uses it as a shield against backlash whenever another blog (not just tradcrafters) calls out her platform. I don't expect you to fully understand or see what I mean when I say that, of course. Because you are still new, and these are habits I've observed of hers from nearly a year of following their interactions. I would, however, like to point out that Briar doesn't say anything racist about Prim and does not once bring up her race. In fact, I think if you read her entire post and not just point 3 as Prim has it cropped out in all of her mentions of it, you would see more fully the depth and amount of frustration Briar is trying to express. Similarly, Briar never threatened to dox Prim. She has, in fact, repeatedly tried to point out that Prim should be protecting her online information and be more aware of how to stop others from finding out about her private life/situation. These statements, however, have since been warped by Prim and her followers to come off as a threat on her life. Briar's statements above aren't a threat of doxxing. She's never once posted Prim's personal information or told others to find it or use it in any way. She has, however, searched for Taglocks on Prim, something witches especially are known to look for. In that search she found more than she was even looking for, despite trying to tell Prim repeatedly to stop being so open online with the information she posts about herself. Doxxing though is not racist. It is something used by them, sure, but it is not inherently racist.

Additionally, Prim has raised money, sure, but I still have not seen any actual receipts as to her *actually* donating it to any public or private organizations. This, for me, is highly suspect. In reality, we still have no idea where that money is. Whereas with Briar, she took no money in for a couple days on her readings and instead merely asked that those requesting a reading first submit proof of donation to an organization linked in the post. She raised substantial money for the BLM movement, but no one seems to want to bring that up in all of their "she's a racist" discourse. Also, the observation that someone is misleading or gaslighting their following is not racist. Just because she said Prim was recently using her BLM reblogs & promotions to do it *this time* still does not make it racist. Questionable wording is just something the reader disagrees with, in my opinion, and should be addressed as such.

I'm not going to lie, I do feel a little frustrated at this point. I was really hoping to come to you and see that you had concrete proof to offer that Briar is a racist. I do understand that you have your own reasons for feeding into the assumptions and twisted outlooks already taken on Briar's words, but I don't have enough energy in me to fully swallow my tongue on this one. I really do hope that you at least consider what I've said here. I'm not sure what I can say at this point because all of the information I've read from you thus far has been purely conjecture or assumptions or just "not feeling right" about the wordings on a single post. A racist, from my perspective, is not something I would ever feel comfortable calling someone off of this lack of evidence.

I understand it is hard to separate preconceived notions from your mind when reading through the words of others, but I really do miss when you were more open to the words of others. If I could ask one thing of you, it'd be to please try to read Briar's post again but from the perspective of seeing it how it was meant to be: a witch who has been on the butt end of Prim's harassment for going on three years now. She is tired of the wild accusations and constantly having to defend herself, and even when she supplied her proof a couple years ago, no one wanted to hear her. She has, largely, given up on being heard, and now screams into what feels like a void when attacked.

Proof of Prim stirring the pot that I offered: An example of Prim actively seeking out the community and trying to stir the pot with an already dealt with situation that had passed over a year ago.

A direct source that I offered as further proof of what has occurred already: This is one from the account mentioned before who was directly involved with the previous discord server where the Trio incident took place a couple years back.

[A Reply.] I think, to be fair, I saw your comments on her previous posts through your main, and with how much aggression you packed into those messages, I don't necessarily blame her for deciding not to engage with your private messages. As I've said, she's very used to people attacking her like that, and in her mind, unfortunately, you've probably been added to the list of aggressive people ready to fling the blame at her rather than look at the situation as a whole. I do apologize for the way her post may have made you feel, but I think it's also important to remember the potentially aggressive things you left on her page (I'm not saying you meant to come off that way, but even I couldn't help but read that way). Also, regarding the ask, it's no small secret that the occultists of the tradcraft group are skilled and well-versed in hexes and curses. When reading her posts about how she may respond to further antagonism on Prim's part, I see a fully realized occultist wielding their most well kept and trained weapon: baneful magic. I'm sure Prim herself also understands that the "threat on her life" she's saying she's so afraid of, isn't a physical threat, but a metaphysical one. She has repeatedly and continually tried to drag these people through the mud, and now that they're refusing to just sit back and be canceled, she's afraid. She knows how strong their magic is, and they aren't shy about it 🤷‍♀️

[A Reply.] No, I completely understand where you're coming from. I, personally, have seen your willingness to talk things through, despite how aggressive you can come off at times in the things you say, so I think that's why I was genuinely so surprised to see your comments on some of her posts. But I do think her response and refusal to further directly engage with you is warranted and her right. Unfortunately, it is hard to tell who is genuinely open to talking and who is just trying to bait and add to the problem. And with how aggressive your comments were, 8 honestly think she most likely was responding from a place of "oh look another young Prim follower here to bait and berate me." I don't think she looks down on you for your age, but her views are likely a reflection of the fact that a lot of 18yos follow Prim and have openly harassed her without even asking for her input on the matter.

At this point, I would like to talk about the second half of the title of this particular post. Grooming. This is a very serious allegation against Prim that I have not spoken on previously because I had no proof that it was happening. With this person's permission, I would like to share how exactly they wound up fighting Prim's battles for her.

I will note: I am highly disgusted by what follows.

[A Reply.] Oh no! You cannot fault yourself for this! Prim is a known manipulator, and the fact that she was able to make you somehow think this is part of your being "gullible and naive" is just testament to the fact that she's gotten wayyy too good at what she does. This is in no way your fault or because of some fault within you. Practiced manipulators are cunning and dangerous even to the best of us. It was unfortunate that she chose you, but her twisting you around is in no way a bad reflection on you as a person!

I've chosen to include my reply to this person rather than our continued discussion because of how personal and involved our conversation turned. I've included it to show, as well, that grooming others to fight your battles is (though this should go without saying) NEVER OKAY. Prim has shown her true colors, in my opinion, and while I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt time and time again, I simply cannot permit myself to ignore the harm and damage she's inflicted on not only the tradcraft community, but also this innocent group of friends. A group who that has hitherto dedicated their time to sussing out predators, terfs, nazis, and racists. A group that should never have had to deal with being gaslit and manipulated by a well-known and respected blogger on this platform.

I cannot reiterate enough how sorry and deeply shocked I am at the information this person has brought to my attention. I am still stunned by Prim's activities and unable to fathom how many other potential individuals are out there being groomed to support and fight for her cause. I am sorry to the Witchblr community as a whole. I feel as if I have sat by and watched as Witchblr has been manipulated and am therefore complacent in the damage and needless hurt that has been allowed to spread throughout our community. I am just so very, very sorry.

I will be taking a couple days off of Tumblr because of this, as I feel as if I need space and time to think, but my inbox is always open and I am always available to speak with others on my return.

#witchblr #witch community #witchblr discourse #discourse #nightshadeandroses #grooming tw #grooming in the witch community #tradcraft #traditional witchcraft #beginner witch #novice witch #baby witch #witch predator #long post #gabrielle #chthoniaa

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taehyungsgrowl · 5 years

Note

What about Duncan coming home to you riding Jim and he gets all mad and punishes you 🙊😳

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST

We’re kind combining a few prompts because we’ve been talking about bringing some angst to the sugar babies so.

Also you emo hoes really wanted some angst, I think it was the most requested prompt for the sugar babies.

–

Jim was laid out on the massive bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. He seemed almost bored as he blinked his eyes slowly.

Y/N know she was bored. She couldn’t find anything to keep her focus or attention all day. And she missed Duncan terribly.

Jim and Y/N had spent the long weekend with their sugar daddy, but now that he had to go back to work, well, she was having withdrawals. It also didn’t help that Duncan had to rush out of the house that morning even though she had expressed just how needy she felt that morning.

She plopped herself down on the bed, laying on her tummy besides him. Jim didn’t take his eyes off the silly video he watched on his phone; just continued to double tap and scroll.

She rolled her eyes at him. It was one thing for Duncan to ignore her, but Jimmy too?

“Jim,” she whined, poking his side, “I’m bored.”

“Same,” he set his phone down, and putting his hands behind his head, propping himself up.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” she interrupted him, placing her hand on his crotch.

Jim couldn’t hide the smirk to form on his face. He noticed just how pouty Y/N had gotten when Duncan left in a hurry and he saw just for frustrated she seemed all day.

“Ah,” he raises his brows, eyes wandering down to her hand on the print of his cock. “Well,” he thinks it through, “I’m sure we can think of something to kill this boredom..” he removes her hand from his crotch and pulls her on top of him.

“Mhmm,” she agrees, shifting on his lap, building the friction between them. “And what did you have in mind, Jim,” she slid her hand on the inside of his shirt, feeling his warm skin on her fingertips.

Simultaneously, Jim’s fingers are at her pants, tugging and pulling them down, “I think you know, kitten.” Y/N lifted herself up enough to help Jim ease off her pants along with kicking his own off.

Once he finally freed them both from the discomfort of their pants, she sat back down on his lap. Her folds rubbed slowly against his veiny length; Her eyes fluttered shut as she imagined the sweet release she had been craving all day. Y/N was so wet, she easily glided back and forth on his cock that was neatly sandwiched between his stomach and her pussy.

“Y/N..” he moaned quietly, “C’mon. Haven’t you teased yourself enough?” he grabbed her hips guiding her.

“Hm,” she mused, “And here I thought I was the needy one,” she giggled.

“Oh, you still definitely are.” he chuckled as he took his cock and teased her entrance.

“Jim..” it was her turn to whine again.

“See,” he smirked.

With that, he aligned himself at her entrance and she carefully sank down on him, engulfing his full length in between her legs.

They both breathed out a sigh of relief was her warm cunt hugged his throbbing cock; sliding down on in until his base was pressed against her.

She ground her hips into his repeatedly, relishing the sensation of him stretching her out.

Duncan let out a frustrated sigh as he entered the apartment. He was so fed up with the idiots under his management. He had returned to work for one full day and they already made him feel like he aged five years.

“Jim.. Y/N..” he called out. He knew they were home, both of their cars were neatly parked in the parking lot. Duncan kicked off his shoes and followed the faint sounds of heavy breathing that came from his room.

“Jim..” Y/N echoed, followed by Jim’s low grunts.

“Fuck, princess..” Jim slapped her as she came down on his cock, “Feels so-”

Duncan felt like he was punched in the gut. All he wanted was to come home and enjoy Y/N and Jim’s presence -- only to find them enjoying each other without him. He hated to admit the slow burning ache he felt.

Thinking back to all the times he’s walked in on them laughing at their inside jokes made when he’s away. All the hidden secrets they know of each other from a life before Duncan.

Suddenly all those feeling began to pour in.

He knew it wasn’t like that. He knew it.

But with the weight of everything on his shoulders - from his mom, his job, the future of the country - this seemed like the easiest thing to take it out on.

He was wrong for it, but he could’t stop the hurt and discouragement he felt.

How despite having two people who loved him immensely - he still felt alone.

“Feels so good?” Duncan spoke in a low voice, making them both stop abruptly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Daddy,” Y/N whined, clearly not reading the energy in the room. Duncan was fuming. Jim lifted himself up a bit, catching on to Duncan’s anger.

Normally, if Duncan walked in on something like this, he’d scold them and punish them. In a fun way. The kind of punishment they enjoyed. He’d walk over to them, kiss them, tell them how naughty they were, and then join them.

But he wasn’t in the fucking mood.

So his sugar babies who he spoils the hell out don’t need him to have fun - then what the hell was the point. All three of them had made it clear from the beginning that everything would be communicated and it would mutual.

If Jim and Y/N had each other - who did Duncan have?

“Don’t.” he shook his head at her, beginning to loosen his tie. “Well,” he continued with the buttons on his cuffs, “Are you at least going to have the courtesy to get out of my bed while you fuck? Or do I have to watch this poor attempt at attention?”

“Duncan what’s wrong?” she asked as both her and Jim began to separate, clumsily looking for their clothes.

“Nothing’s wrong.” he responded curtly.

Jim and Y/N shared a look too afraid to take a step towards him. Not because they were afraid he’d actually hurt them, but they didn’t want to upset him any further.

Duncan knew he was overreacting. He knew it. He was just too upset to be rational about it.

“Listen.” he finally let out a breath when he saw they didn’t even make an attempt to say something. “No one’s fucking forcing you to be with me okay? You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last, escorts I hire.”

Jealousy was clouding Duncan’s mind. He wasn’t jealous of Jim because he was fucking Y/N. And he wasn’t jealous that Y/N was fucking Jim.

He felt as though they didn’t actually need him. And it hurt him more than anything - because even if he couldn’t admit now, Duncan needed them.

“Hire? Duncan what the fuck?” Jim finally spoke up. His voice quivered slightly. “You don’t mean that. You know it’s not like that.”

“Do I?” he snapped back. “Because it looks to me like you don’t fucking need me. You had each other before me. You’ll have each other after me. What’s the fucking point? To give you money for a pity fuck?”

“You know it’s not about your money.” Jim tried to keep his ever calm composure. Y/N who was known to be quite the firecracker of the trio, strangely kept quiet, hurdled a few steps behind Jim. Jim took a weak step forward, not wanting to rock the boat. “I love you. We love you,” he looked back at Y/N who simply nodded her head.

“Right.” Duncan nodded his head. “I’m staying in the guest room tonight.” he picked up some sweats from his nightstand. “You two have fun.”

Y/N looked over at Jim who just stared at the door as Duncan walked away. They knew when he was upset it was best to give him his room to breathe.

“He.. he doesn’t love us?” she spoke quietly, stunned by how the night had developed.

“He’s just got a lot on his plate right now.” Jim justified for Duncan. “He loves us.” he repeated to himself to make it real.

“Do you think maybe we can, you know, make it up to him,” Y/N suggested with heavy implication behind her words.

“A blow job isn’t gonna fucking fix, it Y/N.” he quipped.

“Don’t yell at me too.” her lip shook. “This is my fault, isn’t it?”

All she wanted was for the three of them to be together and to be happy.

“It’s not.” he reached for her hand and made her sit besides him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “He’ll be okay. Let him rest. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“What if he meant it, Jim?”

“We have a lot to talk about.” Jim pulled her in closer and kissed the top of her head.

***

Duncan climbed into the rarely used queen sized bed in his extra room. The foreign feel of being in a bed that wasn’t his (and one without Jim and Y/N) did send a slight wash of comfort.

He pulled his covers up to his chin and curled in on himself, not allowing a single sound to come out of his sadness as he held himself to sleep.

The next morning he woke with a pounding headache at his temples. The stress from the night before feeling lighter. Reaching for his phone, he sent out his secretary to cancel all meetings as he would be staying home.

Guilt settled in his lower stomach remembering the cold words he told his loves. He didn’t mean - and he hopes with everything in him that they know that.

Duncan took his time before leaving the safe confines of his guest room. He lingered in the shower, wising the hot steam would cleanse him of the remorseful feeling he felt.

He knew he shouldn’t have taken out his anger and frustration on them. It was a shit thing to do and it was eating away at him. The hurt look in Y/N’s eyes bored into his brain.

They were so much more than cheap whores. They were his family. His loves.

Duncan heard their distinct voices in the kitchen along with the sounds of soft music playing. After getting ready, he walked out of the room and quietly padded to the kitchen.

Y/N looked up from the bowl of fruit she was making when she felt Duncan standing in the doorway. His honey colored locks were darkened by the water making them appear darker.

“Hey..” his voice was just above a whisper, his right hand rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” both Y/N and Duncan spoke at the same time. He walked towards her and Jim.

“Last night was inexcusable. I was hurt and frustrated but I shouldn’t have let that out on you. It was uncalled for.” his eyes danced between his baby and his princess.

“We know you didn’t mean it Duncan.” Jim placed an arm around Duncan’s waist, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Relief.

He knew they would understand (not that it excused his behavior - but they knew how much he actually cared.)

“Sit down, Duncan.” Y/N offered him a small smile. “We have to talk.”

She and Jim both noticed the flash of worry that crossed his eyes. “I’m okay..” he spoke cautiously. “What’s wrong?” he sensed the need they had to tell him something and it made his stomach churn.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Jim almost echoed Duncan’s words from the night before.

Duncan pulled out a bar stool from the kitchen bar and took a seat. “Alright then. What is it?”

“We want to end the arrangement.”

Tags: @1-800-bitchcraft @divinelangdon @langdonsdemon @satcnas @plsfuckmelangdon @langdonsoceaneyes@mega-combusken @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @lathraios@ticklish-leafy-plant @wroteclassicaly @michael-langdon-appreciation @ritualmichael @langdonswhoreprobably @coollangdon @livocc @desertsunflower00@venusxxlangdon@langdonsfeed @rocketgirl2410 @cocosfern @ccodyfern@lovelylangdons @sammythankyou @maso-xchrist @langdvnshepherd @emmyrosee @ladynuwanda @flowersiren @starwlkers @littledemondani@queencocoakimmie @fckinsupreme

#Anonymous #duncan x sugar babies #duncan shepherd #jim mason #duncan x jim x y/n #house of cards #hoc #hottie #the tribes of palos verdes #cody fern #ahs #american horror story #1984 #ahs 1984 #duncan shepherd angst #jim mason angst #jim mason smut

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yandere-daydreams · 5 years

Text

Gotta say, I might’ve enjoyed this a little too much. The very generous @jinnnesta asked me to re-write Persephone’s and Hades’ myth in a College AU, and hopefully, this’ll be satisfactory. And just to clarify, Hades is a really, *really* soft Yandere, but I tried to avoid any out-right tells, as per request.

Word Count: ~6k

People had never been Hades’ strong suit.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like people, he didn’t mind them. People were interesting, most of the time, and although he didn’t really care for many of them (growing up with two older brothers will do that to a person), he didn’t mind having to co-exist with whoever he was forced to that day, even if that meant playing wall-flower whenever his roommate dragged him to a party in a vain effort to make Hades do something other than study. It still shocked him that Thanatos had a busier social life than him, but that was another matter entirely, for another time when the aforementioned man had got rid of his pocket-knife collection.

No, he didn’t hate people, he just wasn’t very fond of actually talking to them.

Knowing this, you can understand the panic that initially ran through him when someone tapped on his shoulder.

It was surprising that someone else had gotten to the lecture as early as he had, only a handful of people currently littered through-out the hall. Still, Hades took a deep breath, turning and doing his best to make a scowl look friendly. The least he could do was act positive, even in a morning class on the first day of a new semester.

Luckily, he didn’t have to. Not when he saw who wanted his attention.

‘Stunned’ would be an understatement, no one could just be stunned while looking at Persephone. The girl was radiant, as beautiful as a warm spring day, with a smile that could make the sun bow its head in shame and the kind of personality that made Hades believe in saints. Even in leggings and a sweatshirt, she was godly, long, dark hair pulled into a messy bun and brown eyes suddenly fixed on him. Hades couldn’t stop himself from scowling, more out of habit than any sort of anger, but Persephone only managed to glow brighter.

Briefly, he wondered if he’d go blind just from looking at her.

“Mind if I sit here?” She asked, pointing towards the seat next to him. Her voice was smoother than he thought possible, sweet as honey and cheery, but not high-pitched or forced. He wanted to ask her to talk more, if only so he could lull into it, but all he could do was nod, attempting not to gape at the girl in front of him. Whether or not he succeeded was debatable, but she thanked him regardless, sitting down and making Hades’ heart skip with every extra movement.

She didn’t say anything for a few moments, Hades doing his best to keep from staring at her, keeping his eyes focused on his laptop. He didn’t want her to know how much he was panicking, even if he didn’t want to seem to shy, either. But, it was a pointless endeavor, really. When he glanced back to Persephone, she made no effort to hide the fact that she was staring, her chin propped casually on her hand, like her eyes weren’t boring into him. He opened his mouth, ready to ask her what she needed, but Persephone beat him to it.

“I swear I’ve seen you before.” Again her voice was painstakingly sweet, even when she was staring him down. Hades swallowed nervously, but Persephone just laughed, hitting her desk lightly. “You’re Posideon’s brother, aren’t you?” She hardly waited for a response, barely giving Hades enough time to spit out a quick ‘supposedly’ before she cut in. “I knew it! He was my lab partner in chemistry, last semester. Or, he was technically my partner. He wore sandals every time we had to do something… chemistry-y.”

Hades cringed, thinking back to all the times he’d been late to his own courses to give his absent-minded brother something more solid than a pair of Birkenstocks. But, the familial association wasn’t the only reason his cheeks were turning red. “He showed you the baby pictures, didn’t he?”

“Oh, dozens,” She purred, her curious frown fading into the widest grin he’d ever seen. If it was possible for her to pass through the arm-rest between them, she would’ve, leaning over as much as she was able to. “He was polite about it, if it helps. Waited three weeks and everything, I had to ask if he had more.”

“He does, he always does,” Hades mumbled, shaking his head. Persephone giggled, watching as he curled into himself, just hoping beyond hope Poseidon had been merciful enough to skip the ‘tween gallery’. It was a dwindling moment of optimism, though. Desperate to change the topic, Hades attempted to face a still-laughing Persephone, rubbing his neck as he spoke. “So… you’re into Marine Biology?”

“Hell no, the ocean can suck something awful.” She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand, a look of disgust briefly passing over her features before she shook it off, forcing her eyes to open again. “I’m aiming for a Bachelor’s in Botany, although I’m just working on my credits here. My mom’s supposed to ship me off to some big, fancy, overseas university in a couple of years.”

Hades nodded, pursing his lips. “You don’t sound very excited.”

“Have you ever listened to someone talk about germination for two hours? I can hardly even look at flowers, anymore. If I see another goddamn rose, I’m going to pick a tree and burn something down.” She sighed, but the tension didn’t leave her shoulders, her relaxed posture seeming so more… stressed, then it had been when she first approached him. Without thinking, he reached over, simply resting a hand on her back, giving her a sympathetic nod when she glanced over. With a shaky breath, Persephone forced a renewed level of composure, once again shrugging off anything deeper than a mild complaint. “It’s… it’s stupid, don’t worry about it.”

People were flowing into the hall more steadily, now, the professor taking is position on the elevated stage at the front of the room, beginning to pull up whatever power-point or presentation he’d sleep through for the next few hours. He turned towards Persephone, but she’d already caught on, that dazzling, bright, beautiful smile back in full-force.

“Lunch after class?”

Hades never thought he would enjoy walking to class.

Especially one that wasn’t even his, Persephone seeming to wake up with the sun, her morning schedule earlier and more brutal than Hades thought he could put himself through. He didn’t need to be on campus today, and yet, here he was, torn from his cramped room and watching as Persephone was cornered by two first-year students, both speaking far too quickly while his friend nodded and laughed at panicked, seemingly random intervals. He’d been mad, initially, when they came over, ripping away the girl he was obviously walking with, threatening to make her late for her class and stopping her from talking to the person she’s chosen to spend time with. But, if Persephone herself was bothered by the intrusion, she did her best to hide it, shaking her head when he started to approach the trio.

He’d conceded… for a good three minutes. Then, when he decided the conversation had grown a little too invasive, he pushed his way between the two, grabbed her hand, and made some half-assed excuse before dragging a far too agreeable Persephone back into the crowd of people.

“Friends of yours?” He muttered, lips pressed into a tight, thin line. He didn’t want to seem spiteful, but… he was, to be honest. Anyone would be, if they had their time with someone as flawless as Persephone taken away. “They seem… nice.”

Persephone shrugged, moving to pull him forward, latching onto his arm as she walked. Her touchiness wasn’t uncommon, though. Rather, it was something Hades quickly found himself growing fond of, even if he still gave her hell for it. “In a way. I guess you could say that.” Her voice was nonchalant, as if she’d already explained it a thousand times. “They’re fans, I think. I mean, I had to sign something.”

At this, Hades paused, Persephone barely glancing up, her complexion quickly becoming darker as she noticed the wide, playful smirk he was suddenly wearing. She huffed as he ruffled her hair, struggling to smooth over piles of curls as Hades laughed. “Ah, the rich girl has fans, now? Is there a club?” He let his voice get lower, nearly whispering. “Are they expecting new members?”

The girl pouted, elbowing his arm, Hades only breaking-up more at her weak attempts. It took him a few deep, deep breaths to regain his composure, stifling his laughter down to a half-muffled chuckle, Persephone pouting, crossing her arms in a vain effort to give her companion the cold-shoulder. “Don’t give me that shit, not when your dad is the one putting you through college, too.” With a slip of her hair and another proud, confident stance, she continued. “Besides, I’m a Youtuber. It doesn’t have anything to do with money.”

Again, Hades could hardly contain himself, fighting to keep his hand over his mouth, even if his grin was still peeking over the sides. “Is… is that better?”

“Yes!” She said, defensively. Persephone was walking again, before Hades had time to notice, forcing him to play catch-up. It always caught him off guard, how quickly someone so short could walk. With a glance over her shoulder and confirmation of her embarrassment, she let her pace slow to something Hades could manage, pulling a strand of hair loose and twirling it around her finger, still not facing him. “It’s… it’s a lot of work, and I don’t just upload the raw footage, or film whatever I see. Fuck, editing alone takes a few hours on better days, and I’d like to say I’m pretty good at it. My followers think so, anyway.” Abruptly, her eyes widened as she finally processed her own words, anything Hades could’ve said immediately interrupted by Persephone’s sudden frenzy. “Please, don’t mention it in front of the professors. I’m really trying to be taken seriously, and if the people grading me find out I spend most of my time trying to cry my way through water-proof mascara… they might tell Demeter-”

This time, it was his turn to talk over her, his tone serious, but far from cold. “You said it’s hard work, didn’t you?”

Persephone spared him a glance, short nods coming reflexively. “It is, yeah.”

Hades allowed himself to stare, being the one to move closer this time. He did so rarely, always relying on Persephone to make the first move, but a surge of confidence than through him when she didn’t move away, only looking up at him. Inquisitive, but never scared. That might be why he’d always liked her so much. “And you put effort into it?”

She laughed, tugging on that same loose curl gently. “I think so.”

“Then, there’s nothing to worry about. You should be proud, if anything. Not a lot of people have the work-ethic to keep something like that going, not for very long.” He gestured vaguely, to nothing in particular and if only to alleviate his own anxiety. “You’re doing something you’re good at, and that I hope you enjoy, instead of wasting your time at a dead-end, part-time job. If your professors don’t respect that, that they don’t deserve to see what a wonderful, determined person you are.”

Persephone didn’t say anything, growing quiet for a moment, slowing down until she eventually perked up, noticing the propped open door to her lecture hall. A soft, warm smile blossomed across her features, not dazzling or gorgeous or memorable, but… perfect, all the same. Silently, she pulled him down, kissing his cheek lightly before rushing off, calling a quick ‘thank you’ or ‘see you later’ or something as she left, Hades couldn’t hear her. He couldn’t barely think, only managing to form a single thought for minutes after she’d left.

Persephone had kissed him, him. So sweetly and so excitedly, at that.

God, how could he not adore her?

“I want to go into mortuary science.”

The admission came abruptly, breaking the peaceful silence of the campus garden, Persephone still looking out at a wall of roses and over-grown milkweed as she spoke. Hades looked up, nonetheless, closing his textbook the moment he’d heard her voice. It was always hypnotic, for him, drawing his attention despite all the distractions he could justifiably fall into. Part of him knew that wasn’t the healthiest mindset to have about a friend and classmate, but that would only be a problem if he said these things out loud.

Which he wouldn’t. Ever. He couldn’t. She was Persephone, beautiful, charming Persephone.

And he… he was just Hades, the loser who was lucky enough to have someone so incredible that he wanted to keep to himself.

By the time he finally realized how long he’d been thinking, Persephone was blushing, crossing her arms and focusing on the roses with a concentrated, fixed gaze. It was a defensive position, but an unnecessary one. She knew that as well as he did, really, but that didn’t mean she would drop it any time soon. “I know it’s creepy, and morbid, but…” She bit her cheek, beginning to pace through the small gazebo, hardly seeming to notice the boy sitting on the floor behind her. “I want to. It seems interesting, I don’t know, and the course is less strenuous than most. And do you know how many resources we waste with traditional burial methods? Hundreds of acres, per county-”

“Persephone,” Hades cut in, interrupting her mid-rant. She twisted to face him, eyes wide and lips pulled into a small frown, and Hades shook his head, leaning back into the guard-wall. “You don’t have to justify your interests, I believe you. It doesn’t have to be creepy, not if you don’t make it creepy.” Some of the tension reluctantly left her shoulders, but she remained on-edge, her worried eyes only dropping to the wooden floorboards. Hades persisted, still. She would only back-track if he didn’t encourage her. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

She let herself chuckle, fiddling with the ends of her long sleeves. “Well… a while now, if that makes sense. I’ve always been really invested in funerals and the whole embalming process, but I think I just realized I wanted to be a part of that last year. After I got tired of…” She trailed off, waving a hand through the air, trying to think of the right word. “…plants, I guess. I mean, they’re pretty, but I don’t think I could spend the rest of my life on a farm.”

With a sigh, Hades stood, only moving close enough to stand across from her, leaning on one of the support pillars. The silence that surrounded them was a comfortable one, Persephone eventually ripping her eyes away from the ground, meeting his with that comforting, nervous smile. It took a while for either of them to speak, to think of something to say or ask the next clear question, but luckily Persephone didn’t need to be prompted.

That was probably for the best. Hades wasn’t sure if he had the nerve.

“It was my mom’s idea. She says it runs in the family.” With another tense chuckle, a few more awkward fidgets and shaky eye contact, but Hades waited patiently, letting her confess on her own terms. “I guess she thought I wanted to be like her. I think I was a pretty sheltered kid, you don’t make very many friends when you live in the middle of nowhere, but I’ve been dreading it since she first brought up my ‘inheritance’. And if she found out I was more interested in corpses than irrigation…” Persephone let out a ragged breath, letting her hair dip over her eyes. “I don’t know if she would ever forgive me.”

“Do you want her to?” He asked, reflexively, instantly regretting it once he had. Her eyes widened, the girl snapping towards him instinctually, Hades backtracking as soon as he realized what he’d said. He stumbled backwards, stuttering over his words, attempting to mumble out something close enough to an apology or an explanation to make up for it, but Persephone only giggled, covering her mouth and finally, finally looking at him.

“She’s my mom, and I love her. Even if Demeter is a bit… overbearing,” She began, releasing some of the tension from her rigid form. He rested a hand on her shoulder, something he could only hope was a comforting gesture, and she nodded, as solemn as it was accepting. “I should tell her. I’m going to tell her. I just have to decide if this is what I really want, first. There are probably a few professors I can talk to, or something.”

“I could go with you, if you’re alright with that,” He offered, not pushing the topic when she shrugged.

“I’ll have to think on it.” The answer was simple, but he took it at face value. It was the least he could do, right now. “I appreciate the offer, though,” She added, brushing back her hair. “It’s just… a lot, right now.”

Hades didn’t argue as she leaned against him, nor did she move away when his arms fell to her waist, Persephone just letting him support her weight. She felt right, there, fitting perfectly in the space between his arms.

He did love her, he was sure of that, now. She was beautiful, brilliant, and so, so strong, but this wasn’t about him.

His feelings could wait, he would wait. For as long as she needed him to.

“So… you and Hades?”

Aphrodite’s voice was as calm as always, monotone yet so very judgemental. Persephone admired that about her, truthfully, how unbothered her ‘frenemy’ was by the world that seemed to operate at a polite distance from the cosmetic specialist at any given time. Still, she snapped up as much as she was able to while the other girl cupped her chin, attempting to lather the girl in more make-up than was appropriate for a casual afternoon live-stream. Aphrodite had insisted, and Persephone was never eager to do the task herself.

Persephone scoffed, the slight movement quickly crushed under Aphrodite’s ironclad grip. “What’s wrong with Hades?”

“I don’t know, why don’t I start with the fact that a bright light could give the poor boy a sunburn?” She teased, giving her victim a temporary reprieve as she reached for a vial of mascara. “Or the ‘youngest-brother’ syndrome he has going on? Or that wanna-be-lawyer thing-” She stopped abruptly, a wide grin threatening to streak her oh-so-perfect lipstick. “Or the grease.”

“He’s not greasy!” Persephone huffed, crossing her arms, the wand nearly lodging itself in her eyelid. She attempted to lean onto the vanity, her posture quickly corrected by a steady, forceful hand, but she still rolled her eyes… when Aphrodite said she was allowed to, of course. “That’s rich coming from someone dating… who is it? A mechanic? Or is he a soldier, now?”

“Hephaestus is a mechanic, Ares is ex-military,” Aphrodite corrected, momentarily reaching for her phone. Whatever she saw, she didn’t like it, hastily typing out a response before she turned her attention back to the task at hand. “And Athena is being difficult.” Persephone couldn’t help herself, laughing as Aphrodite shot her a glare, nearly slamming the device back onto the wooden surface. “Wipe that look off your face, at least I don’t go… canoodling around on campus.”

“Hermes saw, didn’t he?” Aphrodite only nodded, managing to ignore the high-pitched ring of her phone. She cursed under her breath, reluctantly letting the girl tip her chin up, something light and powdery soon coating her cheekbones, her hold more gentle than before. Persephone took the cue to spill, as long as her torturer was feeling nice. “Look, nothing’s going on, alright? He’s a friend, a good one, and he’s…” She let herself sit a little straighter, squaring her shoulders. “He’s helping me change my major.”

Reflexively, Aphrodite cringed, hiding it quickly but not quickly enough, Persephone’s confidence immediately fading. She looked to the side, trying to keep from shrinking into herself. This wasn’t Aphrodite’s choice. This wasn’t Demeter’s choice.

Aphrodite’s follow-up didn’t help. “Your mom’s not going to ask that, y’know.”

“My mom is going to have to live with it.” Her voice was steady… or she hoped it was, at least. Persephone wanted to be sure, to know this was the right choice and to have some kind of confirmation that she wouldn’t regret this when it inevitably went wrong. It felt terrifying, to go against her own mother for the first time since she was a teenager, but this was something she was passionate about, this was the one thing she knew she wanted.

All she could do was hope it wouldn’t go too wrong, really.

Her eyes darted back to Aphrodite, the slight edge to her voice hopefully coming off as intimidating. “It’s not like she’s going to find out, right? Demeter doesn’t have to know.”

It took a moment of tense, cold silence, but Aphrodite was the first to relent, only sighing as she sprayed a thin mist of setting-spray over the girl. “Demeter doesn’t have to know, even if she should.”

Content with that, Persephone simply stood, thanking her friend and attempting to leave before things got too uncomfortable, only failing miserably. But, Aphrodite only watched as she left the dorm room, pursing her lips, gaze drifting back to the phone so tantalizingly close. She was sure she still had Demeter’s number, from freshman-year, when the woman had cornered Aphrodite and forced her to promise that she’d ‘report’ anything concerning back to the over-protective, really fucking scary mother of one of her closest friends.

Hesitantly, she reached out, managing to avoid Athena’s frantic messages. This was for the best, she told herself, fighting the guilt slowly planting itself in her throat.

She’d find out one way or another, Aphrodite was just… breaking the ice.

Whatever Hades had expected of Persephone’s apartment, it certainly hadn’t been this.

The two weren’t yelling, but it was more than clear both wanted to, voices forced into harsh, low whispers that Hades could hardly make out, the older woman both staring down and glaring at an equally dismayed Persephone. Even from his vantage point, half in the doorway but ready to run at any signs of violent hostility, he could make out an uncanny resemblance between them, the stranger sharing Persephone’s dark eyes, her sharp features, her skin a few shades tanner than Persephone’s own but their complections just as dark. They were related, obviously, possibly a cousin or sister or…

Or Persephone’s mother.

The oh-so-dreaded Demeter.

The Demeter who was now staring directly at him.

Both were, technically, but Persephone seemed more surprised than she was perturbed. Only Demeter looked mad, scowling with lips pulled so tightly he could hardly believe she could still move her mouth. He smiled nervously, the thought of introducing himself competing with the temptation to flee back into the relative safety of Persephone’s lobby. In the end, neither won, Hades just balling his fists into sides and staring forward like a deer in headlights, Demeter’s slight frown quickly morphing into a sneer.

Persephone caught on first, moving to stop her mother but failing, Demeter only holding up a hand, her daughter instantly growing quiet. “You’re the boy who’s been distracting Persephone, right?”

He cringed, fighting the urge to apologize. “Hades’ works, ma’am.”

His voice was barely a whisper, but Demeter didn’t seem to care, only turning back to the increasingly timid Persephone. “You’re dropping out for him? What’s the catch? Rich parents? Did he promise you an easy life?” She let out a laugh, the noise akin to nails on a chalkboard, Persephone flinching at the sound of it. “Did that girl forget to mention you’d gotten knocked up?”

“I’m not dropping out, I’m changing my major,” She growled, her nails digging into her palms. He couldn’t tell whether she was more annoyed or enraged, but he didn’t there was much of a difference, at this point. “Just because it wasn’t your plan doesn’t mean it’s not a plan! And he’s a friend, not like you’d know anything about my life.”

Demeter drew back, her expression remaining disgusted, but her posture stuttering, recalibrating, adjusting. Her movements were nearly methodical, like every reaction was preplanned and drawn-out, surprise something far-beyond her comprehension. “You will not talk to me like that-”

“You don’t pay her tuition,” Hades cut in, instinctually, his own father quickly coming to mind. He didn’t know he could be this angry, so bewildered and confused and mad, just because someone dared to berate someone he cared for. It was like a spark, lighting something he didn’t know he had, pure anger soon burning inside his chest, fueling him as he continued. “Persephone pays were own bills, doesn’t she? She pays the rent for this apartment, she has her own job, and she doesn’t owe you her future. She’s nice enough to not cut you off, but the moment she does something you don’t approve of, you come to her home and insult the friends she chooses. You’re lucky she even considered telling you.”

When neither spoke, Persephone stunned while Demeter only let her gaze fall to the ground, an expression he couldn’t read layered over any one emotion she could’ve been feeling. The need to take it back, to leave or apologize or just so something to diffuse the situation eating away at his resolution, but he attempted to hold strong, only biting his cheek as Persephone shook her head, probably formatting her own excuse and all the platforms she’d have to block him on as soon as she reached a phone.

Shockingly, Demeter was the one to break the silence, firmly refusing to address Hades, instead focusing her attention to her daughter. “You… like the subject you’re going into?”

Persephone’s eyes glinted, shakily nodding before she could muster enough stability to nod. “Mortuary sciences? I mean… I love it.”

“Please, don’t remind me.” She grimaced, but did her best to cover it, her gaze only dropping to the floor. She only shook her head, gracefully sitting down on one of Persephone’s technicolor sofas, rubbing her temples. “We can talk about it-” Her eyes flickered to Hades, for the first time since he’d walked through the door. “-alone.”

Hades didn’t need another excuse, saying something to Persephone before unceremoniously speed-walked out the door, fumbling with the knob and practically collapsing against the door when he managed to get outside. He felt tired, sweaty, overworked yet so energized he could hardly stand to stop moving. All he wanted to do was go home, sleep, run a fucking mile, but that didn’t stop a delirious, relieved smile from finding its way to his lips.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Persephone so relaxed.

When she invited him back, reaching out two days after the incident and just when he’d managed to lose hope for a rekindling, he might have been over-enthusiastic, momentarily forgetting he had a life outside of Persephone and her family drama.

He wasn’t proud of what he’d done with that time, to say the least, his pathetic search for her channel almost immediately followed by a binge-session of her most popular videos, then her newest videos, then… well, all her videos. There were the make-up tutorials and daily vlogs he’d expected, but a good amount of her uploads consisted of Persephone simply existing, living her day-to-day life and making twenty-minute long rants about whatever was on her mind. Currently, his favorites were ‘Naming All My Houseplants’ and ‘I Know What Evapotranspiration Is And You Will Too’, both of which more than half an hour long and features a whiteboard Persephone seemed uncomfortably affection of.

But, that digital, peppy, manufactured version of her didn’t matter, not when the real girl was sitting in front of him, impatiently guiding him to her room and practically shoving him onto the bed, hastily sitting down beside him. It wasn’t the tranquility he’d expected from a weight being lifted off her shoulders, but she seemed more… active, lacking the exhaustion that’d been weighing her down, recently. He was happy for it, too, her giddy smile and small fidgets as infectious as they’d ever been. More so, even.

“I don’t think I even had to email anyone,” She sighed, the words coming out breathy, rushed but overjoyed, at the same time. “It was so easy, I’m still a little nervous. I feel like this is all just a perfect dream I’m going to wake up from tommorrow morning.”

He fought not to reach out, just letting himself fall into her relief, nodding as he tried to figure out what to say, how to say it. “God, I hope not. If I have to lecture someone else’s mom for a second time, I’m never going to forgive you.” He glanced around the room, like Demeter would crawl out of the floorboards at the mention of her name. “She’s not still here, is she?”

“No, absolutely not.” She had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing, but her eyes seemed to sparkle, doing more than enough to give away how she really felt. “She can’t be away from her farm for more than a week, the thing’s her life-force. I’m just happy she let me drive her to the airport, honestly. At least she hasn’t given up on me entirely.” Persephone paused, her skin paling. “But, she doesn’t know about the dissections yet, either.”

Hades chuckled, resting a hand on her shoulder, equal parts attempting to distract her and display his support, in one of the only ways he knew how. “Either way, I’m still proud of you. Your brilliant and brave and…” He trailed off, watching as she brushed her hair out of her face, the sunlight seeming to radiate off of her. Like a fucking goddess. The slip was unintentional, but… right, the words fitting perfectly on his tongue. “And I love you.”

She didn’t react, not for a second, her eyes staying focused on the floor in front of her. Her gaze was concentrated, but not scared. Not angry. When she broke the stillness, her voice was soft, hardly audible. “You do?”

The idea of taking it back crossed his mind, calling her a ‘close friend’ and just playing it off like nothing had happened, but he couldn’t. It’d already come out, and he couldn’t take it back. He didn’t want to.

“Yeah, I guess so,” He said, his hold on her shoulder becoming softer, but not falling away. “I love you. I think you’re amazing, and I think I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’re alright with that.”

“Is…” She grew quieter, gradually turning towards him. “Is there anything else you want to do?”

It felt natural, instinctual, leaning down as she closed her eyes. Their lips barely touched, at first, Hades more nervous than he should’ve been, leaving Persephone to deepen the gesture, her arms wrapping around his as he reached up, cupping her cheeks in an effort to bring her closer. With a small lick to her bottom lip, his tongue was in her mouth in a matter of seconds, the fight for dominance over the moment he pulled her closer, dragging her into his chest and dropping his hands to her waist, something Persephone reacted… positively to, something similar to a purr leaving her lips. That was enough for Hades to pick her up, handling her smaller form a little too roughly as he threw her against the mattress, his lips never leaving hers until he was kneeling between her legs, only seperating to catch his breath. Persephone seemed to need it, too, red-faced and panting, a wide grin spread across her features.

Hades wasn’t much better, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he fought to keep from laughing. Persephone, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as self-conscious, giggling as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, her fingers soon running through his hair, combing through the messy locks, tugging whenever he nipped or kissed her neck. “Someone’s excited,” She teased, her laughter hitching when he bit down, hard. “Really excited.”

“Can you blame me?” He grunted, straightening his back. He’d never realized how small she was, her head just reaching his shoulders and barely half his weight soaking-wet. The idea made him feel smug, confident, enough to grab at her thigh with one than, letting the other trail down to her chest. With a quick glance up and a hasty nod on her part, he was pushing her shirt up, letting the material pull at her collar-bone before tearing at the pink-lace covering her chest. Her bra fell away with few complaints, leaving Hades free to suck and kiss as he pleased, groping anything and everything his hands couldn’t reach. “I mean, look at you,” He mumbled, his voice mostly muffled by her skin. “You’re fucking perfect.”

She tilted her head to the side, only to let it fall back as her back arched on a particularly harsh grope. The whimper that worked its way past her lips had Hades damn-near salivating, encouraging him to kiss down her stomach, lingering at her shorts before he took a deep breath, the fingers hastily rooted in his hair a good source of encouragement. Even then, it took a minute for him to fall into it, but with a few whines and moans from Persephone, his teeth were latched onto inside of her thigh, the flat of his thumb pressed against her clit, teasing her with so much pressure but so little movement while two fingers worked her open. He operated off of her reactions, his movements hesitant, but hopefully, enthusiastic enough to make up for the experience he lacked. She was so hot, so wet and tight and inviting, grinding down every time he curled his fingers and writing whenever he added another.

He didn’t know why he didn’t do this sooner, if only to feel her around him. She was so beautiful, like this, unashamed and blissful-

“Ha-Hades…” She whimpered, bucking into his fingers. He stilled, glancing up, and she threw her arms over her face, taking a deep breath before she could peak out between them. “If you don’t put something bigger inside me right now, I’m kicking you out.”

All he could do was nod, as overwhelmed by how blunt she was by the throbbing hard cock suddenly calling for attention between his legs. Persephone dragged him into another kiss while he worked, only breaking apart to tear off his shirt as he kicked off his jeans, their lips connected as he pressed her into the mattress, lining himself up with her entrance and thrusting in.

The sensation was nearly orgasmic on its own, Hades’ hands moving on their own, parting her legs to pump in deeper, to feel more of her. She didn’t seem opposed to the idea, grinding against him, whining and keening and moaning, the noises muted compared to the pulse pounding in his ears. Everything felt like a blur, time passing slowly yet too fast, thrusts and gropes mixing together, Persephone’s nails digging into his back and scratching just to ground herself. It wasn’t long before she clamped down, her cunt instantly turning into a vice-grip as she climaxed around him.

He hardly had time to pull out, cumming on her thighs without a breath to spare. Hades could feel himself collapse on top of her, just as emotionally exhausted as he was physically, but her arms only wrapped around his neck, thin lines of warm blood soon running over his skin. It felt right, natural and faultless and…

And perfect.

Because he loved her, so, so much. And she loved him, too.

What could be more perfect than that?

#commission #Commision #writing commission #comission #writing comission #not yandere?#god damn what do i even tag this

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