#i’m so bad at following recipes but i stuck pretty close with this one

[notjanine]

riffed on this recipe and ended up with the best jollof i’ve made yet, so i feel compelled to share ❤️

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Don't Take Him

Request: Anonymous said: "hi! oh my gosh i love your tyler x reader writings so much. could you do one where the reader is watching the tornado wrangler's livestream while they're chasing and suddenly it cuts out & she's worried something happened to tyler? with just fluff and angst and all that? thank you <3"

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: angst

A/N: I'm afraid i'm officially down bad for tyler owens (and glen powell). send help.

The notification popped up on your phone while you were cooking dinner in the kitchen. 

The Tornado Wranglers started a live video. Watch it before it ends! 

You rolled your eyes and smirked. Tyler and his stupid channel, you thought. 

After wiping your hands on a dish towel, you swiped your thumb across the notification, letting it take you to their feed.

Boone’s face was the first you saw. His goofy, contagious grin flashed across the screen. “Alright, it’s rollin’,” he said, flipping the camera to show Tyler in the driver’s seat. “How we feelin’ today, T?” 

Tyler beamed, his smile causing his eyes to crinkle the way you loved so much. As annoying as it was to constantly be competing with tornadoes for Tyler’s affection, you had to admit that his passion was admirable. 

“Oh, we’re feelin’ pretty good, Boone– why don’t you show the viewers what we’re chasin’ today!”

The screen panned over towards the windshield, showing the storm ahead. The footage was a little grainy, but the impending storm in the distance was obvious.

“Ain’t she a beaut?” Boone marveled. 

“Now y’all got fireworks last week– this week what do you say we give rockets a go?” Tyler said, just as Boone turned the camera back on him. 

“Idiots,” you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head. You rested your phone against the utensil jar, propping it up so that you could continue to maneuver around the kitchen and listen at the same time. 

After a while, you got lost in the recipe you were trying, tuning out your boyfriend and his friends.

“Alright, Boone– Lilly?” Tyler said as you continued to chop the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you. “You ready?” 

“Oh, I’m ready!” you heard Lilly chime back. 

“Here we go, folks– as always, don’t try this at home!” 

You briefly turned your attention back towards the video as they began actively driving into the tornado, your view limited to Boone’s shaky camera work as Tyler’s driving undoubtedly turned chaotic. 

To avoid motion sickness, you looked back towards the food in front of you.

“She’s gettin’ close, boys!” Lilly yelled. 

You heard their collective cheers and hollers. 

“Anchoring time–” Tyler said. 

There was a brief pause before you heard Boone. “Hit the button, T–”

“I am hitting the button,” Tyler said firmly. 

“Tyler–” Lilly said. It was the hint of urgency in her tone that had you looking back towards your phone again. 

“It’s jammed–” Tyler said. “Here, gimme the screwdriver.”

Boone had clearly ceased thinking about camera angles. All you saw was the edge of Tyler’s face in the corner of the screen.  

“Tyler, we gotta lock it down–”

“I know, Boone. I’m tryin’ here– the damn button’s stuck again.”

“Guys–” Lilly warned. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the frame. 

“Guys, it’s getting closer.”

“I know–” Tyler said. “Boone, move your hand.”

“C’mon, man, let me try–”

“I’m telling you, it’s stuck–”

“Look out!” you jumped at Lilly’s sudden scream, followed by the sound of a loud bang, that echoed even through the screen. 

“Oh shit–” Boone yelled, camera flying. 

You grabbed your phone urgently, but all you could see was the ceiling of Tyler’s truck. Suddenly, gear was flying through the screen– almost as if the truck was flipping. You held your breath, panic and dread flooding through your entire body as you watched helplessly. 

“Hang on to someth–” Tyler’s voice was suddenly cut off along with Boone’s feed. 

The Tornado Wranglers live stream has ended. 

Even after their video went dark, you continued staring at your phone– like you were hoping Boone would pop back up any second, laughing like this was some sick, twisted joke. 

Except you waited– and waited, and Boone never popped back up. 

And neither did Tyler. 

Frantically, you pulled up your contacts and clicked on Tyler’s name. You had an unspoken agreement that no matter what he was doing during a chase– if you called, he answered. 

So that’s exactly what you did. 

But your nerves weren’t settled. In fact, you stopped breathing all together when Tyler’s phone went straight to voicemail– something he swore he’d never do. 

Hoping that he just had bad service, you called a second time– and then a third. But each time you heard Tyler’s voice telling you to leave a message at the beep, you felt the pool of panic inside of you rising higher and higher. 

“C’mon Tyler,” you muttered to yourself. 

Stupidly, you let your hopes get up when Lilly’s phone actually rang. But when that went to voicemail too, your hopes just about shattered. You didn’t even bother to try Boone– he may have been the camera guy, but he almost never had his own phone within reach. 

After your fifth attempt to reach Tyler, you finally did leave a message. 

“Hey, it’s me. I was watching the livestream when it cut out and I–” your voice cracked, causing you to stop and take a shaky breath. “Listen, I just need to know that you’re okay. So please call me back.”

With that, you hung up the phone, setting it on the counter after finally realizing it probably wouldn’t be beneficial to try calling him a sixth time– no matter how badly you wanted to. You stared ahead out the window that was over the sink. It was blue skies where you were– just a few wispy, thin clouds overhead. Nothing that remotely resembled what Tyler had just driven through.  

You didn’t even know where he was chasing today. You’d meant to ask when he’d called you last night from his motel room, but you’d gotten distracted by the dog whining to go out and ultimately forgot. Now, you had no way to contact him and no idea where he was…  

Suddenly, a sob bubbled in your throat. Before you could filter or control it, you were letting out a shaky gasp– shoulders shuddering as you gripped the edge of the counter and doubled over. 

You felt it everywhere– from your mind down to your toes, your entire body reacted to the cruel, impossible idea of something happening to Tyler. 

Maybe he was fine, you told yourself. Maybe Boone just dropped his phone and the feed cut– But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew it was ridiculously unlikely. You saw those things go flying– you heard Lilly’s scream. 

Maybe the car flipped, maybe it was crushed. 

Maybe Tyler was pulled right from his seat, tossed into the oncoming storm. 

Maybe he was hit with flying debris, his body mangled and bruised and broken–

“No,” you whimpered to yourself, shaking your head. “No, no, no– please– please don't take him, please don't take him.”

You weren't even sure who you were pleading to, all you knew was that you couldn’t imagine Tyler not being okay. He was the strong one– always steady, always certain. He was your rock, the person you leaned on for absolutely everything. And the idea of him being hurt somewhere was unfathomable. Tyler didn’t get scared– Tyler didn’t get hurt. Tyler drove into oncoming tornadoes and stayed strong. 

To your absolute despair, all you could do in the upcoming hours while you waited for any sort of news, was hope to God that was still the case. 

Eventually, you found a home on the kitchen floor– back against the cabinets and knees hugged tightly to your chest to try and withstand the dread raging inside of you. 

…

Tyler put his truck in park outside of the house before running a hand through his damp, windblown hair. After the day he’d had, he’d never been happier to be home. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d flipped in the truck. Thanks to the roll cage, they wound back upright with next to no damage– but Tyler knew it’d been his fault. The stupid rods had malfunctioned again– something Tyler had been meaning to take a look at for the past month. Except every time they got stuck, he’d managed to fix the jam before the storms actually hit. But this time, he’d been too late. 

Luckily, his two passengers were even bigger adrenaline junkies than he was. The truck had barely landed back on its wheels before Boone was hollering and pounding his fist against the ceiling in excitement. And Lilly wasn’t far behind him. Meanwhile, all Tyler could do was look down at his shattered cell phone and hope to hell you wouldn’t need to reach him for the rest of the night. 

As soon as Tyler walked through the front door of your shared house, he noticed signs of you everywhere. The lamp near your reading chair was turned on, and the blanket you always used was strewn across the couch messily. He noticed the mug resting on the coffee table, thinking to himself that it was almost certainly half full of the tea you always insisted on making at night but never finished. 

He smiled to himself, as he bent over to untie his muddy boots, eager to spend the rest of his night holding you close. 

He had barely managed to toe off his final boot when he heard shuffling from the kitchen. 

“Tyler?” 

He could instantly tell that something was off– your voice sounded so muffled and choked up.  

“Hey,” he said, turning to offer you a smile. But it faded from his face at the sight of you. Your body was trembling, shoulders slumped and arms wound tightly around yourself. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy from what looked like hours of crying. 

“Baby?” he said. 

In response, you covered your mouth and hunched over just in time for a sob to escape your lips. 

Instantly, Tyler’s stomach dropped to the floor. 

“Hey,” he said, hurrying forward. He hesitated, hands hovering near your shoulders. He’d never seen you like this– so fragile and broken and obviously devastated over something. But he had no fucking idea what it was– which meant, he had no fucking idea how to fix it. 

Your hair had fallen in your face, but he could still see the tears rolling steadily down your rosy cheeks as you gasped for air. 

“Hey,” he repeated gently, tilting his head down so that he was closer to your height. 

“I-I saw– And I thought–” you stammered frantically, jumping to the next sentence without finishing the first. 

In that moment, Tyler decided against his earlier hesitation and risked reaching for you. Just standing there and watching you fall apart went against every instinct he had– he wanted to protect you, keep you safe from anything that could cause this kind of harm. 

But as soon as his hands grazed your shoulder, Tyler knew that he’d made the wrong choice. The moment he made contact, you lunged forward– hands planting themselves on his chest before you gave him a shove. 

“You asshole!” you yelled through a sob. 

Tyler staggered backwards– more from being caught off guard by your sudden burst of anger, than from how hard you pushed him.

But he barely had time to recover before you were lunging for him a second time. Using what little energy you had, you shoved him again. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” you shouted. 

Tyler took a simple step back, eyes scanning the length of you– trying to decide what the hell he should do. When you attempted to push him for a third time, your arms barely had any energy left in them.

“Hey–” he breathed, gripping your wrists when they landed on his chest a fourth time. 

“Let go of me!” you yelled, wiggling from his grasp. “You’re an asshole, Tyler!”

“Stop,” he begged, releasing your wrists to wrap his arms around your shoulders. You fought his hold, fists colliding with his chest instead. But this time, he didn’t let go. 

“No!” you sobbed, but he could already feel you slowing down. Not like your shoves or fists hurt before, but with each pound, the impact grew lighter and lighter. 

“Stop,” he repeated, forcing you to his chest, despite your resistance. You were pushing him away– but everything about your demeanor screamed that you needed his comfort. 

Finally, whether it was his persistence or your exhaustion, you gave up fighting and let your body melt against his.  

Tyler planted one palm between your shoulder blades firmly and used the other to cup the back of your neck, anchoring you to him securely. As soon as Tyler tightened his hold on you, you erupted into a fit of sobs– like all the dam inside of you needed was just a little bit of pressure to break. The trembling turned into violent shaking, and you began gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt like your life depended on it. 

And Tyler had no fucking idea what to do– 

So, he did the only thing he could do, which was hold onto you tightly and let you stain the front of his plain gray shirt with your tears. 

“I got you, baby,” Tyler whispered as he pressed a lingering kiss against the top of your head. “You’re okay, I got you.” 

Eventually, he heard you take a ragged breath and pull away just enough to look up at him. Tyler cupped your jaw with his large hand and used his thumb to stroke your cheek. “Talk to me,” he pleaded.

You bit down on your quivering lip before speaking. “I-I was watching– I was watching Boone’s livestream when it cut out– and then, your phone– I couldn’t reach you. I- I called like– so many times, but you didn’t answer– I thought– I thought something had happened– I thought you were hurt– or-or worse–”

“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled, guilt spreading through him at the thought of you having to see whatever got streamed from the accident earlier. He was the reason you were so distraught in your shared kitchen at eleven o’clock. He was the reason your eyes were red rimmed and swollen. He was the reason your cheeks were stained with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“I thought I was gonna get a phone call– from the hospital or- or your mom or something– I didn’t think you’d- I didn’t think you’d come home, I thought you died,” You broke on the last admission, like something inside of you had cracked. You collapsed in on yourself, hunching over and wracking with heaving sobs.

Tyler pulled you back into his embrace, like he was the only thing preventing you from drowning. Gradually, his soft touch and gentle murmurs brought you to the surface again. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he repeated, lips ghosting along your temple. “I’m right here. I’m okay.”

“But- the truck– it flipped–”

He nodded above you. “It did– I couldn’t get the screws bolted down in time. But we have the cage, the truck rolled right back upright. Everyone is fine. I mean, Boone might have a few loose screws, but there’s no tellin’ if that’s from the rolled truck–”

Your tone immediately hardened as you sharply pulled back again. “Are you seriously making jokes right now, Tyler?” 

And truthfully, Tyler wasn’t entirely sure how to react. He looked down at you pathetically, chest aching to see you so upset. You being this angry with him was uncharted territory. 

“You could have died!” you said loudly. “I know you think you are, but you’re not invincible, Tyler! This isn’t some movie where you get to drive into tornadoes completely unscathed ten times out of ten. This is our lives! I-I mean, what the hell were you thinking?”

”Everything’s okay–”

“Everything is not okay! I’m not okay! Do you know how helpless I felt? Watching that stupid livestream? I tried to call, but– but you didn’t answer, I couldn’t do anything but wait here! I mean, what if that had been me? What if you’d seen a video of me crashing my car– and then had no way to reach me? What if you had to spend all night wondering if you were going to get a call that I was dead in a ditch God-only-knows-where?”

For once, Tyler had no response. Because the truth was, he knew everything you were saying was right. He’d be equally angry and frustrated and horrified if the tables were turned. 

You wiped the tear falling down your cheek, lip quivering. “I– I can’t live in a world without you in it, Tyler. I really can’t–”   

In the deafening silence, he sighed. “I know,” he said quietly, stepping forward to bring you back into his embrace. He was surprised when you willingly let him wrap his arms around you, head falling to rest on his chest. 

Tyler’s hand ran through your hair. “I know. I’m okay, baby. I’m right here, I got you.”

He was okay. He was alive and he was right here– you could hear his heartbeat beneath you–  feel his breath against the side of your neck. He was alive and unharmed. 

You kept your eyes closed and tried to memorize the sound of his heartbeat. You let it seep into the cracks of your heart and heal whatever had been broken in the last few hours of worrying– wondering if he was alive. You focused on the way his arms felt around you– impossibly warm, and so, so safe. 

Gradually, your breathing and your mind slowed. Until all that was left was Tyler. 

Your voice was shaky when you finally pulled away. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you exhaled. “I didn’t like not being able to reach you.”

Tyler’s hand stroked your hair gently, “Baby, I’m so sorry I made you worry– my phone broke when we rolled. I’ll get a new one tomorrow, I promise.”

You nodded slowly and placed your hand against Tyler’s chest. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

You blinked a few times, realizing how tired you were. “Yeah–” you said, nodding. You felt Tyler’s heartbeat beneath your palm.   

Each beat reminding you that he was here and he was alive and he was okay. 

“Can you–” your voice cracked slightly, making you wince. “Can you please just stay with me the rest of the night? I just–” you glanced down at the floor, embarrassed to admit how much you needed him. “I just need to be close to you tonight.”

Tyler’s eyes softened. “Of course, baby. Where else would I be?”

You nodded slowly. 

Tyler grabbed your hand and led you towards the couch. He took the blanket you’d left sprawled out from earlier and wrapped it around your shoulders before pulling you down beside him. He laid back against the cushions and made a spot for you. Without even hesitating, you curled up between his legs and rested your head back against his chest. 

“I need you to promise me you’ll be careful,” you pleaded. “I know you love chasing, and I’d never ask you to give that up, but I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you.”

You felt Tyler sigh beneath you, his chest rising and falling steadily. “I promise.” 

“And I need you to promise me you’ll get those damn screws fixed. That’s like the third time this month you’ve told me that they’ve jammed.”

You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled softly. “I will. Believe it or not, I didn’t like rolling in my truck, either.”

You lifted your head from his chest so that you could get a good look at Tyler’s face. Even after all these years with him, he still managed to leave you breathless.  

“Well then maybe it’s time you take a break and just stay home for a little while,” you teased, lips curling into a soft smile. 

The corner of Tyler’s lips tugged upward as his green eyes sparkled under the dim light. “You know what, that might not be a bad idea.” 

You raised your eyebrow skeptically. You knew you shouldn’t get your hopes up, and yet, that was exactly what you did. “Really?” 

Tyler’s hand tucked a loose strand of your hair from your face before his thumb grazed across your wet cheek. He nodded sincerely. “Really.”

You were a mess– eyes puffy, lips cracked. You were exhausted and so shaken up from everything that had happened. And who knew how long Tyler would have to put extra effort into helping make you feel safe. 

But right now, wrapped in his embrace on your shared couch, all you needed was him.   

[oomisluvr]

sakusa asks you out, a drabble

synopsis: sakusa wants to be your boyfriend (and it’s about time he asked). no warnings, it’s all fluff :)

it’s a warm, thick curry. foreign flavors swirl across your tongue before dropping into your belly. it’s heavy in your stomach; the weight of the food already lulling you to sleep. it’s heat radiates through your body, engulfing your nerves in a delicious comfort. you smile; he did a great job.

“do you like it? i tried to follow the recipe, but i changed few things.” he faces away from you, mumbling. his voice is nonchalant; his expression blank, but you know better than that. you know him better than that. he wants your approval, to show that he can take care of you; that he’s worthy of your time. you playfully roll your eyes.

“y’know, if I didn't know any better, this could be considered a date.”

to be honest, that’s exactly what kiyoomi was going for. he had invited you to his place under the guise of studying, but his intensions were always romantic. he spent the entire afternoon deep cleaning to a playlist of exclusively love songs and decided to prepare a home cooked meal in preparation of your arrival. he lit candles for the ambiance (according to the cosmopolitan article he read) and took nearly forty minutes deciding what to wear. 

it’s strange; he’d never been the type to care about what other people thought of him, but with you, it matters. he wants so badly for you to like him it hurts. 

“would that be so bad?”

“sorry?”

“would you be opposed,” he gathers himself, taking a deep breath, “if this was a date?”

“no,” you watch the way his shoulders stiffen, enjoying his reactions to your mild advances. a devious smile breaks out on your face. 

“no?” “no. in fact, i wish you’d just asked me out to begin with.”

he shyly smiles, a bit of pink dusting his face, heat slowly reaching down to his neck and extending towards his ears. he finally turns to you, watching you from across the island, eating the meal he cooked for you. he plates his food and seats himself to your left, before to pausing to take another deep breath.

“i’m sorry if i gave the wrong impression. i’ve been... interested in you for a while and i didn’t know what to do. i've never done this before. i’m not sure  where to go from here, but I really want to try.” he speaks clearly and with confidence, the most you’ve heard all night. he hesitates, before speaking again, “i would be honored if you gave me the chance to be your boyfriend.”

“and what makes you so special that i would let you be my boyfriend?” 

god it’s so fun to fuck with him. you absolutely live for the way his blush deepens. you balance him so well; when he gets to stuck in his head, you always know how to bring him back. you push his limits but you never cross any boundaries. with you, he just can't ever get his way. 

“i’ll bring you flowers?” he offers, a wobbly grin on his shy features. 

“is that all?”

“i can make curry as many times as you want,” he pushes a stray curl from his face, “although, it is the only thing i know how to make. 

you laugh, boisterous sounds of joy bubble up from your chest. genuinity looks good on you. lovestruck and lost in you, sakusa doesn’t even notice when you grab his hand until he feels it. 

“thank you for tonight.” you flirtatiously smile, pretending to ponder,“and the food is really good, by the way. if i consider your athletic capabilities, cooking skills, mild germaphobia-”

“i’m not a germaphobe; i just like being cau-”

“-i think you’re more than capable. i would love to have you as my boyfriend, kiyoomi.” you reveal, shifting your body to face his. sakusa doesn’t think he heard you correctly and briefly considers having his ears checked. 

his heart stops when he feels warmth on his cheek. a single hand flies up to touch the spot where you kissed him, disbelief in his eyes. turning to get a better look at you, the butterflies in his stomach go ape-shit; he feels like he’s floating. up close, it seems, you’ve only gotten prettier. you make him so nervous. he couldn't look away if he tried. 

 he smiles, “i have something... for you, i mean.” he stands, smoothing out his clothing, “wait here, please.” he stalks off to the entrance of his apartment, digging through his coat that hands on the rack by the door. from your seat at the island, you’re able to see him. 

smiling at yourself, you admire the effort he’s putting forth. dressed in black slacks and a burgundy button up (with the sleeves rolled up and several buttons undone, of course), hair swooped back with some sort of pomade, it’s obvious how much kiyoomi cares. he wants to look good for to; to be good to you.

apparently finding what he was looking for, sakusa returns to the kitchen. he’s not empty-handed, much to your surprise, and in both palms, he holds a small box. you raise an eyebrow. he rushes to explain.

“well, since i’m your boyfriend now, that makes today very important.” he still choses to stand, but slides the box towards you.

inside is a pandora bracelet of the most recent collection, inscribed with the phrase ‘unique as you are’. there’s one charm on it: a volleyball. 

“today will technically be our anniversary date in the future so, every month that we’re together, i’m going to give you a new charm. if that’s okay.” he scratches his inner arm, clearly nervous. he doesn’t want to move too fast or push you to far. seeing you raise the bracelet towards him for him to put it on you, he leans down to help you out. ever-so-gently, he releases the clasp, slightly twisting the bracelet to accommodate your wrist, and locks the clasp back in place. 

he never thought the inside of someones wrists could be beautiful. you’re perfect in every way. 

finally, you stand, turning to face him and closing the space between you. gingerly, you slide your hand up his shoulders before locking them around his neck. he feels his heart fall into his ass. you’re so close to him; you smell so good. your skin is so soft, your face so pretty. you sigh dreamily. damn him. 

“for someone who says they don't know what they’re doing, you sure are doing a great job,” his eyes seem like they’re sparkling, you can’t help but love him, “kiss me, kiyoomi.” you whisper. his heart flutters. he leans in. 

“with pleasure.”

[dxrkdreamer]

Not So Bad

Modern Sukuna x Reader

Working late had been the bane of your existence, only getting worse when a certain man started showing up to your store’s parking lot to light his joints.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: 18+ implied sex, mentions of weed.

(A/N: should I make a part 2? It seems pretty popular

Couldn’t come up with a name for the store so I used Anavrin from ‘YOU’)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“11:00 pm? Again?” you rubbed the back of your head trying to hide your frustration, the store manager nodded his head, sighing you agreed to stay late at work again since the closer frankly did not want to stay. So now here you are grumbling as you finish sweeping the floor and checking it off your log. You worked at a high end grocery store named Anavrin, a store that swore to sell organic produce and products to the best of quality. You took up a job here in your senior year of high school, planning on working for a few months to save up for college. And yet… 4 years later you’re still here grumbling at the extra hours you had taken. After your second year of working you had a promotion to supervisor… woo hoo!!... but it turned out it was more responsibility than expected. But it paid a little more and you could not argue with that.

‘I should be a little more optimistic, I’m graduating uni this year’ you’d tell yourself anytime you wanted to pull your hair out because of your measly job. You finished turning off the lights and locking the door, sighing as you felt the cold fall air hit your tired face, taking a deep breath of fresh air… wait a second “Who the fuck is smoking weed!” you yelled in a girly voice, as if this day was not long enough. Since you were in charge of a proper closing you marched off towards a tall man leaning against the back of the store, laughing and conversing on his phone. It was a little nostalgic, you remembered your highschool days, sneaking around and smoking pot in strange places. But he was not as young as a teenager, in fact his build made him look older than you.

“Hey! I’m going to ask you to leave, this is a smoke free property” You tried saying sternly gesturing to the sign right above them that read “no smoking” in bold letters. But your short stature compared to the man made you look like a kid waving your arms around attempting a snake dance.

“What on earth is this?” a man with pink hair and face tattoos said “I’m so scared, I should be so ashamed for not reading the sign” he cackled as he pressed the joint to his lips and inhaled again. “My apologies”

He did not look sorry at all.

“Look, I’ve had a long day. I’d like to go home so please go to a proper location or I’ll-” but you’re cut off with the joint stuffed to your pretty lips.

“You’ll what cutie?” he smirked as you stared at him dumbfounded, the joint stuck to your lip as you tried to figure out a reaction. But the man was already on his way towards his motorbike. Of course he had a motorbike. “First one’s always free darling, next time I’ll charge ya” he winked as he put his helmet on and sped off.

“Mother fucker” you swore and banged your head against the brick wall. ‘Never am I staying late again’ you groaned. You walked to your car, but not without tucking the joint safely in your pocket for when you got back home.

---

And that was your first of many nightly encounters with the pink haired man. You were not surprised to see him anymore in the parking lot, either smoking, laughing with friends or just sitting on his bike staring at his phone. You learned his name was Sukuna… you had asked for it during the nth time you threatened to call the cops. You also learned he sold weed to the store manager, so he pretty much had a free pass on smoking here.

“Working late again (name)? My, they must pay you a lot for you to stay here.” he smirked, watching you with grinning eyes. Your annoyance shot up at the mention of your little over minimum wage pay. They definitely were not paying you enough for the store, but giving you a delinquent like this guy… you had written your resignation letter a few times after his nightly visits. You ignored him as you walked to your car, heavy footsteps followed “I brought ya a little something” He grinned handing you a baggy with a cookie “It’s on the house, made ‘em myself”. Eyes narrowed as you tilted your head up to glare at him, but realized you were a lot closer than you expected. You could hear him breathe, feel the heat off his body and smell the spicy cologne he was wearing as you breathed a little too loudly trying to inhale the scent. “Not today darling, that package is for another date” he winked.

Oh my God.

What have you done? Sure he was hot and you didn’t mind the view, but his mouth made up for that. He was like an evil version of a talking cat. Opening his mouth to smite you, prideful like one and given the opportunity would sit on your face if you were lying down. Wait what?

“I’m not interested in you like that!” you squeeked.

He tilts his head to the side, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand “Then how are you interested in me?”

“I’m not interested unless you’re a customer, or an employee here or something!” Frustrated, you grabbed the zip loc with the cookie in it “And I’ll be confiscating this!”

“Sure thing, I made it just for you. It's a special recipe”

“I’ll let the cops know!” you yelled getting in your car, throwing the cookie on the passengers side as you sped home for the night.

“So if I was an employee…or something...” he wondered gazing at the stars, his thoughts frenzying around as his mind came up with the most brilliant idea. Cackling loudly “you’ve really outdone yourself this time me.” Laughing as he got on his bike, speeding towards his apartment.

---

“A new employee?” You mused, It was pretty hectic at work recently, one of your employee’s had quit and they finally found a replacement “I wonder what they’re like”. You asked yourself as you prepared a training checklist to go over, making sure to not make it too hard on the new guy- you heard it was his first job after all. “Hello! And welcome to the Anavrin family!” you say smiling with closed eyes, as you open them your mouth went agape. ‘What the….’ had the demon cat from the parking lot shrunk and gotten more youthful?

“Hi, I’m Yuji Itadori. You must be my brother Sukuna’s friend. He said to write your name down as someone who referred me to the job”

Chuckling nervously with the clipboard in hand you checked off the box for introductions “I’m (name) the grocery supervisor, and you would be working under me mostly.” Friends with Sukuna? Cutting your wrists open and watching them bleed sounded like the better option.

As the shift progressed Yuji showed you he was the complete opposite of his older brother. Always finishing his tasks, being kind and sweet. Everyone else loved him too, just on the first day. He was stocking milk and eggs the way you had shown him, one of the last tasks of the night. The crowd of customers thinned out as it got late and the store was closer to its closing time. You watched to make sure he was doing them correctly and if he needed any help. ‘This wasn’t so bad’ you thought, closing your eyes and leaning back.

“So how’s my little brother been (name)?”

Your eyes shot open at that voice God no please. “He’s been amazing, but you can’t just put my name as a referral without asking me-” There stood a tall Sukuna in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled back, probably coming after finishing his day job. Majority of his tattoos were covered except the lines on his wrists that were exposed, making you gulp inaudibly. Suddenly feeling underdressed in your uniform’s polo shirt and measly work pants and sweater as you stared up at his glory.

“Sorry darling, I can’t do what?” he smirked. Mentally praising himself as his plan got into action. He couldn’t lie, (name) was interesting. Always yelling at him, cursing him and swearing that she would murder him if it was the purge. His usual charm not working gave him more of a challenge. Not to mention the way she was kind to younger brother made his heart swell a little.

The annoyance returned once you saw his shit eating grin “You can’t write my name down without asking me!”

As he opened his mouth to speak, the intercom went off, notifying everyone that the store was now closed and any remaining customers should bring their purchases to the front to pay for them.

“Yuji you can go home now, I’ll put this away and start heading out myself” you say massaging your temples with your fingers.

“See you soon (name).” Sukuna winked as he walked towards the exit, waving behind at you as he went outside to wait for his brother.

---

Unfortunately soon had never come… at least not for the last 3 weeks. Making you miss the tall man in more ways than one. Maybe he wasn't so bad now that you thought about it. The usual nightly teasing might make you seethe but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t laugh about it later in your car. Somehow his laid backness and mocking smile made your night light up a little. And the weed that you would “confiscate” really did help you unwind after a long shift.

“Maybe it was because he saw me in my uniform” you grumbled. That had to be it. You weren’t a sore look on the eyes. Right? But compared to him… you hissed as you felt your lower half heat up and tremble at the thought of the man. “Well it's only 11:00 pm… and my first class is at 9:30 am… and then I have work at the 4:00.” Debating your options…. ‘This is why I’m probably so grumpy all the time, I think too much’

“And probably need to get laid” you said aloud. Living alone did have its perks, no one could call you crazy for talking to yourself. Your friends always nagged you about your dry spell too, but one night stands weren’t really fun to you anymore. They were too shallow and you always found yourself feeling more frustrated by them than relaxed.

Quickly rummaging through your drawer, you found your lovely device and turned it on. The buzz filled the room as you fell on the bed and groaned. Your mind was wild as you thought dirty little things about the man. Your eyes rolled back and you felt little whines erupt from your throat as you imagined him on top of you with his signature smirk, choking you and teasing you, calling you terrible names and whispering dirty things in your ear.

But as quickly as you heated up, the device buzzed and suddenly stopped. Too hazy to think straight you tried turning it on and off again, soon realizing it was the battery that was dead. “For fucks sake” you threw the vibrator and it hit the wall and fell with a loud thud. Good. Pulling your covers up, scowling as you shut your eyes to sleep.

The next day only went further downhill. Your lecture was long and uneventful, you forgot there was a guest speaker instead of the usual prof, most of the class skipped anyways so you sat alone and pretended to be interested. And as you went home from campus, your car broke down on the way leaving you stranded in the heat as you waited for the tow truck. You really just wanted to buy some batteries and get some time to yourself before work. But life had another thing planned once you got home, you only left with half an hour before you had to leave for work. Which barely gave you enough time to shower, change into an excuse of an outfit, grab your uniform and run out the door. You heard a few whistles as you ran to the bus stop, most likely because of the skimpy outfit which was pretty much just a long t-shirt made into a dress with stockings. But this was not the time to be picking fights.

Work was more mundane as ever. Emptying, stocking, organizing and talking was all that seemed to happen. You frowned for the nth time in the day when you saw Yuji was not scheduled to work today and you remembered him mentioning that he was going somewhere with friends for the next two days. The boy could always turn a bad day around. He was a blessing to the department and the store as a whole. The long day finally came to an end and the weekend awaited. Stuffing your uniform in your bag as you walked out you saw a familiar motorbike and a man leaning against it getting ready to light a joint.

You didn’t think, all you could hear were your footsteps smacking against the pavement as you ran to the man. Blood rushed to your head as you slowed down, stopping barely an inch away from him. He was wearing jeans and a dress shirt and most important, that smirk.

“I didn’t realize you missed me this much darling, otherwise-” but he was cut short as your hands gripped his head and pulled him down to your lips for a not so innocent kiss. You had to admit, you liked the guy. But as he responded by deepening the kiss and sliding his wet tongue into your mouth to taste you, you realized you wanted more of him. And you found yourself in his apartment, stripped down with his face buried between your legs as you came down from your second orgasm. Him licking you clean and not missing a single bit.

“When” you panted “when is Yuuji-” but he shushed you by gagging his fingers deep in your throat.

“Not until Sunday at least” he smiled with a sinister look, your wetness coating his lips “we have the whole weekend darling” He had waited almost two months for this so he was definitely going to take his time and relish the next few days. How could he not? You were beautiful with a fiery personality, and that showed by the ways you disobeyed him on his bed to get a reaction. It seemed the roles were reversed, but this time there would be consequences. For you at least.

He was relentless but you were no pussy and would not back down either. Both of you with fire and heat taking over your bodies as you brought spark and life into the night, wanting to explore every bit of each other, not stopping until you noticed the sun starting to rise causing exhaustion to take over.

He had let you stay to sleep in, provided you with a clean shirt to wear and even made breakfast for you. Presented you with a “gourmet plate of eggo waffles with the finest Aunt Jemimah maple syrup” he said which earned him a giggle from your pretty lips.

“I can make pretty good waffles from scratch” you told him proudly, puffing out your chest in pride. But these were special to you, the whole moment was special.

“I intend on trying them,” he spoke after a moment. He thought it was out of character for him to ask for a relationship but he wanted to be with you more than just a few times. And wanted more of you in different ways. He wouldn’t get his brother involved if it was a casual fuck relationship that he wanted. Which reminded him he owed the brat 50 bucks.

“Maybe you should come over sometime” you smiled sweetly, blushing a bit.

“I’d like to see you more, take out and get to know you” he said, interrupting your invitation.

“I’d like that too.” you said smiling.

[fruitcoops]

Cake Off

Happy birthday, Finn O'Hara! Here's to hoping all your wishes come true <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Marlene waved to the camera as she wove a small whisk into her bun; behind her, five young men sat in front of a well-lit industrial kitchen. “Hello, Lions, and welcome back to Lion Pride! I’m your host, Marlene McKinnon, and we’re here today to celebrate someone we all love very much.”

“Some more than others,” Leo corrected.

“Today is Finn O’Hara’s 25thbirthday,” Marlene continued. “And my gift to him was letting him pick what our next video was going to be. Being the agent of chaos we know and love, he chose to force his friends to make him birthday cakes. Cap, Knutty, I know you two are feeling pretty confident about this. Tremzy, Kasey, and Loops, how are we feeling today?”

Logan’s expression was rather pained. “Can I apologize in advance?”

“I have…a history with ovens,” Kasey said carefully. “Kind of like Britain’s history with the rest of the world, except I’m the rest of the world and the oven wins nine times out of ten.”

“I don’t bake,” Remus sighed. “This is going to be an adventure. Can I leave if I already got him a present?”

“Nope!” Marlene chirped. “To your stations, everyone!”

The five of them trooped to the countertops, which had been covered with a colorful assortment of baking supplies; Logan’s smile grew even more nervous. “Is there a guidebook, or something?”

Marlene ruffled his hair as she passed. “Where’s the fun in that? You have two hours to make a unique birthday cake. On your marks—”

Kasey went pale. “Wait—”

“—get set—”

“Marlene, please,” Remus begged.

“—go!”

“Oh my god,” Logan muttered. “Uh, I don’t have a recipe.”

Marlene’s grin was wicked. “That’s the extra bonus fun.”

Leo paused from where he was measuring flour into a sifter and raised his hand. “Finn’s not actually tasting everyone’s cakes, right? ‘Cause making him sick on his birthday seems a bit mean.”

“He only has to try one bite of each,” Marlene assured him as she stopped by Sirius’ station, where he was gathering his ingredients in a line. “Cap, what are you making today?”

“Vanilla with chocolate frosting. I know the recipe by heart, but I only make it when I’m stressed.” A furrow appeared between his brows before he straightened up and raised his voice. “Hey, someone stress me out!”

“Playoffs!” Kasey shouted from across the room. All five men immediately hurried to knock on the wooden cabinets.

“Thanks!” Sirius gave him a thumbs-up and Kasey winked.

“And somebody won’t be sleeping tonight,” Remus muttered, flicking sugar at Kasey. “Thanks, Bliz.”

Logan was still bracing himself against the countertop when Marlene arrived at his table. “How’re you feeling, Tremz? I see you haven’t chosen any ingredients.”

“There’s a very fine line between making your boyfriend a birthday cake and poisoning him,” Logan said after a moment. “And I think I’m about to find out where it is.”

“What are you making?”

“I don’t know yet. Whatever happens, happens.”

“Fair enough,” Marlene laughed as she moved on. “Leo?”

“I’m gonna make a lemon cake,” he said with a proud smile as he mixed the dry ingredients. “And it’s going to be delicious.”

“Do you bake at home very often? You sound confident.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “For special occasions, yeah. I vaguely know what I’m doing, so I feel pretty good.”

“How do you think Logan’s cake will turn out?”

Leo paused and glanced up. A beat of silence passed before he bit his lower lip. “I think it’s a really good thing that Finn has two boyfriends that are making him cakes.”

“Rude,” Logan grumbled as he dumped another cupful of flour into a bowl to Sirius’ obvious horror. He stuck his tongue out. “Don’t give me that look, Cap, this cake is going to be fucking amazing.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows and turned back to his own batter. “If you say so.”

Logan stood on his toes and poured the next cup directly over Sirius’ head in a poof of white. The studio went silent. With a cough, a bit of flour puffed from Sirius’ mouth. “Cap?” Kasey ventured.

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Mhmm.” He slowly took a towel off the oven door and wiped his face with it, then whipped around and snapped it at Logan’s thigh—it connected with a sharp sound, followed by a yelp as Logan shoved Leo in front of him as a makeshift shield. “You can’t hide behind him forever!”

“Remember, you only have two hours!” Marlene called as she dodged a patch of flour on the floor. Sirius scowled and put the towel back down on the counter; Logan backed away to his station with a suspicious glare. “Loops, how are you?”

“I’m minding my own business,” he said innocently. “Staying in my lane. Paying no attention to the idiots behind the curtain, if you will.”

“Impressive. What are you making for our wonderful Harzy?”

“Spite cake.”

“What?”

“Spite cake,” he repeated with a shadow of a smile. “It’s carrot cake, but with no special ingredient of love or appreciation, because he knows how much I hate baking and he’s been making fun of me over text all morning.”

Leo frowned. “Weren’t you two bonding over how much you hate carrot cake when we went to lunch yesterday?”

“Hence the name,” Remus said as he pulled a cheese grater out of the lineup.

“And last, but certainly not least, Kasey.” Marlene leaned against the edge of his table. “How’s it going over here?”

“So far, so good.” He eyed his batter and poked one of the lumps with a fork. “Does this look ready to you?”

“Seems a bit wet, to be honest.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Do people put milk in cake batter?” On the other end of the kitchen, Sirius and Leo shared a look.

Marlene patted his arm. “Good luck, Bliz.”

The camera cut for a moment—when it returned, the three bakers on the far end seemed to be even more flustered than before. “You have one hour left!” someone off-screen announced.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Logan held his spatula up. The batter remained stuck to it in a doughy lump. “Is this supposed to happen?”

Leo’s eyes flickered between Sirius, who was clearly shocked into silence, and Logan, who was growing more distressed by the second. “Sure, honey.”

“Baby, it looks like jello,” Remus called as he shook his mixing bowl with a nervous glance to Sirius. “Why does it look like jello?”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius muttered as he crossed the room; the second he looked over Remus’ shoulder, his eyes widened. “How did you…?”

“I don’t know.”

“You put flour in, right?”

“Hey, no helping!” Kasey protested, swatting Sirius on the shoulder with an oven mitt. “We all fail on our own merit here. Tremy’s making concrete, Loops has jello, and I’ve got soup, so you and Knutty can fuck off back to your perfect batter and let us suffer in peace!”

“Jesus, Bliz, did you put water in that?”

“No! I put butter and milk in!”

“Why?”

“Because!”

“One hour left!” Marlene shouted.

“Fuck it, it’s good enough.” Remus grabbed the nearest cake pan and dumped his batter in, then put it in the oven. He turned the heat on and faced the camera guiltily. “Harzy, I know this was meant to spite you, it really was just meant to be a carrot cake. Not…that.”

Logan sprinkled a handful of chocolate sprinkled into his mixing bowl. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he singsonged. “But I know I’m doing it poorly!”

“Oh my god,” Remus said suddenly as he licked some of his batter off his finger. “Oh my—oh my god.”

Kasey looked up from pouring his batter into a pan in mild alarm. “What?”

“Oh my god, that’s terrible. Here, try it.”

Kasey put his cake in the oven before swiping a bit off and tasting it. His whole face scrunched. “What?”

“I know,” Remus laughed, passing the spatula to Logan. “It’s like getting punched with a cinnamon stick.”

“I can feel it in my nose,” Logan coughed. “Here, try mine.”

Leo regarded them with a healthy amount of disbelief. “Why are you all tasting it if you know it’s bad?”

“Because Marlene needs workable content.”

“Do it for the vine.”

“Because I’m a dumbass, rookie.” Kasey lifted the spatula up. “Cap, your fiancé made toxic sludge in cake form. Want some?”

Sirius hesitated, then sighed and headed over. Leo threw his hands in that air. “You, too?”

“What else am I supposed to—” Sirius faltered with a harsh exhale and braced his hands against the counter, licking his lips. “How many eggs did you put in that?”

“Four? Five?”

“How much cinnamon?”

“A teaspoon?”

Sirius took a fortifying breath through his nose. “Teaspoon or tablespoon?”

“Tablespoon,” Kasey answered for him. “Definitely a tablespoon. Try mine.”

“You two are never allowed in a kitchen again,” Sirius said, though he swiped his finger along the inside of Kasey’s bowl and tasted his batter with a grimace. “Ugh. It’s just melted butter.”

“How did you make it taste like salty butter and nothing else?” Logan asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“Well, Tremzy, I put salt and butter in it.”

Leo’s phone timer went off and he opened the oven door; four faces turned toward him in shock as he pulled a golden cake out and checked the center with a toothpick. Logan closed his eyes and bent closer, taking a deep inhale. “I wish the viewers could smell this, because it’s heaven.”

“Can it be my birthday instead?” Kasey asked. “Please?”

“Get back, you hyenas!” Leo whacked him lightly on the hand with a spoon when he reached out to poke the cake. “That oven was 350 degrees!”

Sirius glanced up at the camera. “That’s 177 degrees, for all you smart people out there.”

“Boo, Celsius.” Remus kissed his cheek. “You smell like sugar.”

“How much time do you all have left on your cakes?” Marlene asked from her perch next to the sink.

Logan, Remus, and Kasey shared a look before Logan turned back to her. “I don’t know?”

“You can’t answer that with another question,” she laughed.

“Ten minutes,” he guessed.

“Whenever it starts to smell good,” Remus said. “Though I doubt that’s going to happen.”

Kasey cocked his head and scanned Leo’s cake for a second. “When it starts looking like that.”

“It won’t,” Leo informed him.

“Damn, Knutty, okay.”

Marlene shook her head. “We’re going to cut filming until everyone’s cakes are out of the oven, but in the meantime we’ve got some special messages for our favorite redhead.”

A banner reading Happy Birthday, Finn! appeared on the screen with a burst of confetti before the usual studio replaced it, with its white walls and folding chairs. Dumo crossed one leg over the other with a soft smile. “One thing I admire about Finn is his tenacity. When he wants something, he’ll go for it with his whole heart.”

“I love his humor,” Leo said in the next short video. He was smiling as well, and had a faint blush on his freckled cheeks. “And the way he makes breakfast in the mornings. All the little things he does to make the people he loves happy. And he really does love with his whole heart. There’s no holding back with him.”

“Finn?” Sirius thought for a moment. “He’s a good person. I know that might sound lame, but he’s one of those people that you meet that always makes you feel happy, and confident, and supported. Anyone who meets him should count themselves lucky.”

Logan’s face was filled with nothing but affection. “I love his patience and his kindness. Whether that was helping me work on my English in college, or making the rookies feel welcome, or even the way he talks to complete strangers when they ask for directions on the street. Everything about him is kind.”

“Ah, jeez.” Remus bit his lower lip. “I think—I think what I admire most about Finn is that he never lets anyone else define who he is. He’s comfortable in himself and makes everyone around him feel safe. It’s sappy, but it’s true. He’s one of my best friends and I’m grateful for him every day.”

“He’s one of the most reliable people I’ve ever met,” James said. “Both on and off the ice. He will be there to support his friends in any capacity and I think we all need to be a little more like Finn that way.”

“Great player.” Arthur nodded. “Great player, and an even better teammate. I can put O’Hara anywhere on the ice and he’ll throw everything he’s got into doing his best. I can’t think of a single Lion who doesn’t love being on the same shift as him.”

Talker grinned, leaning back in his chair with a shake of his head. “Finn just loves hockey. He takes it seriously, of course, but he loves being out there with us and I’m always happy when we’re on a line together. He goes out there every night and has a blast. I admire a lot about him, but especially that.”

“It’s hard to pick one specific thing that I admire about him,” Kasey said, shifting in his chair. “He’s Finn. He’s annoying as all hell, and I love him for it. I’m not sure. Can I make a list?”

“Harzy is very cool,” Olli laughed. “Very cool and very fun to be around. He has a quick wit and truly cares about all of us.”

Kuny raised his eyebrows. “What I like about Harzy? Oh, everything. Everything. He is good friend, good teammate, always there when we need him. Good for Tremzy and Knutty, too. He would turn red like fire engine if he heard me. Don’t tell him I say that.”

The video changed to a wide view of the whole team as they waved to the camera. “Happy birthday, Harzy!” they chorused. “Bitch ass moves!”

The kitchen was much cleaner when the video resumed; all the cooking supplies had been taken away, leaving five hockey players with their cakes in front of them. Leo’s cake was a bit lopsided, though the yellow frosting was cheerful and even—next to him, Logan’s cake looked more like a squished loaf of bread. Sirius’ was plain and elegant, while Kasey’s frosting was still dripping as the camera zoomed in on it.

“Wow,” Finn said after a moment of silence from his seat at the main table, where five slices of cake had been placed on small plates with a label for each name. “Just…wow.”

“You can start with whichever one you want,” Marlene told him.

“I think I’ll save Cap and Leo’s for last. Uh, Kase, what happened here?”

Kasey sighed. “I wish I knew.”

Finn gave it a wary look, then took a bite; his chewing slowed to a stop almost immediately and Logan’s shoulders started to shake from his suppressed laughter. “You know it’s burnt on the outside and not cooked on the inside, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Just checking.” With great effort, he swallowed. “Why is it wet?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, man.”

Finn took the next plate, then paused. “Re, I love you, but…”

Remus shook his head. “I know.”

“I’m genuinely afraid to try this.”

“You should be.”

The second it touched his tongue, Finn started laughing. “Jesus, it’s a straight shot of cinnamon. Why is it crunchy?”

“It’s carrot cake!”

“You know I hate carrot cake!”

“Look, I gave it my best shot. It really wasn’t supposed to do…” He gestured at the plate. “That.”

“Lo, baby, please tell me yours is better than the last two.”

Logan thought for a moment. “It was made with love and that’s all that matters.”

Finn took a deep breath before taking a bite. A range of emotions washed over his face—pleasant surprise, then confusion, then horror, and finally disbelief. “I…what?”

“I don’t even know.”

He swallowed, then ate another bite. “Oh, bad idea. This—are there chocolate chips in here? And almonds?”

“Yeah. You like those, right?”

“Usually, yes. It’s kind of got the texture of fruitcake, but—” Finn broke off and picked the slice up, giving it a shake. Not even a crumb fell out of place, and the rest of the boys burst out laughing. “Lo. Logan. Light of my life, what the fuck?”

“Happy birthday?”

“This is the best birthday present ever. Alright, Cap, your turn.” He took a piece of Sirius’ cake and nodded. “Yep, that’s cake.”

Sirius blinked at him. “And?”

Finn shrugged. “It’s cake. Classic flavors, good texture. I like it. Definitely tastes like a cake you would make.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“He’s calling you basic,” Kasey said, patting Sirius’ shoulder sympathetically. “But hey, at least yours was cooked all the way.”

“And now for boyfriend number two,” Finn continued.

Leo rolled his eyes. “Boyfriend number two.”

“Oh, that’s so good,” Finn groaned around a mouthful of cake. His eyebrows pitched. “I love it.”

“What about it?” Marlene prompted.

“For starters, it’s cooked all the way through. The lemon is freakin’ amazing, and the frosting isn’t melting off the sides or anything. I can’t even taste everyone else’s anymore. It’s a helluva cake. Happy birthday to me. Will you make this every day?”

“No,” Leo said, though there was a pleased flush on his face. “But maybe on the weekend.”

Finn scraped the last of the crumbs off his plate. “Alright, everyone, come get a piece of this magic. Thank you for doing this, by the way. I know three of you hate baking.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Logan admitted as he settled himself on one of Finn’s thighs with a slice of his own and kissed his temple. “Sorry for almost poisoning you. Oh, that is tasty.”

“I love you anyway. I think Loops and Bliz were actually the closest to doing that, so you’re all good.” Finn raised his eyebrows and craned his neck over Logan’s shoulder. “Speaking of…”

“Lasagna or chicken piccata?” Remus asked. Sirius took advantage of his moment of distraction by stealing a bite off his plate and received a playful glare in response, though it was soothed by a kiss on his cheek.

“Lasagna, please.”

“Does Friday work?”

Finn gave him a thumbs-up. “Sorry, Harzy,” Kasey said as he carefully got the last bits of frosting off his fork. “I have no marketable skills to apologize with. You don’t want me anywhere near a stove or an oven.”

A gleam lit in Finn’s eye. “Will you get in all your pads and play chicken with Knutty and I?”

“For the twentieth time—”

“It’s my birthday,” he wheedled, pouting his lower lip out with the Bambi eyes turned to full blast.

Kasey sighed. “Fine.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Thanks for joining us for our birthday celebration,” Marlene said with a smile. “The best estimations of these recipes are linked on our website, with a few tweaks to make sure none of your loved ones get food poisoning this August. Have a great day, Lions!”

[toxiclxki]

bucky barnes drabbles

I’ve got a pretty bad writers block going on at the moment and I read somewhere that when you do you should just write, so I did. This isn’t in any way connected to any of my WIPs or anything else, I just wrote. And now I’m posting it, so enjoy?

~

He doesn’t know when it happened, nor does he know why it happened; all Bucky knows is that some point, some point after he found himself with a new partner, with something resembling a life, he started to cook.

It was an offhand comment, spoken by someone somewhere at some point. He really couldn’t tell you when exactly, or who had spoken the faithful words; all he has are vague memories of a sun warming the back of his neck and the distant cries of seagulls. It was probably in Delacroix, because he felt as close to happy as he ever does, but it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that those words stuck with him, kept floating around at the back of his mind until one night; one night in mid-December, when the New York winter seemed hellbent on showing the city’s inhabitants that it still had it in itself to be just as cold as it was back in the 1930’s. The wind was howling outside, rattling the windowpanes, and there was so much snow in the air that he couldn’t even see the streetlight outside. Going outside, ordering a take-out, was out of the question, but that didn’t stop him from needing food. And there it was again, that half-remembered voice at the back of his mind, saying something about how cooking was therapeutic, so finally, he decided to try it, and even though the food hadn’t been great, he had enjoyed the way the process made him feel.

It became a weekly thing, and then a bi-weekly thing. He would spend hours during his days off, wandering around the city, finding butcher shops and, eventually, farmers markets, where he would browse for ages, picking out the ingredients he’d use that night.

Maybe, if he had had time, it would have become a nightly thing, but he doesn’t, so it didn’t. Still, he treasures these moments; the moments he spends alone in his apartment, with the only light being that above the stove and the radio tuned to a channel that plays old jazz music.

For a couple of hours, a couple of nights a week, his mind isn’t racing with thoughts of what he’s done in the past, with memories.

For a couple of hours, a couple of nights a week, he manages to block out the outside world and focus on the little things.

For a couple of hours, a couple of nights a week, his attention is turned completely to carefully dicing onions and peppers, to seasoning and tasting and seasoning again, to following recipes to a tee, to improvising and trying to channel the people in his life he knows are leagues better than him at this.

For a couple of hours, a couple of nights a week, he almost feels like himself again, like the man he used to be, like someone happy.

[thefanficmonster]

The Five Scares (and one revenge)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing 

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having a tendency to scare people, Corpse has gotten used to his friends being jumpy whenever he appears from the void into a Discord call with them. However, the one who has it the roughest with the spooks has to be his partner Y/N. Basically: The five times Corpse scared Y/N and the one time they scared him

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your lovely request it was a real joy to write and I had a ton of fun doing so! Hope you have equally as wonderful of a time if you happen to come across it and give it a read despite the long wait you’ve had to endure which I apologize for. Love, Vy ❤

I

Having had to go home for the night to keep an eye on their roommate’s dog, Y/N and Corpse agreed to have a video call before they fell asleep. They didn’t want to appear like that typical clingy and cheesy couple but after spending almost a whole week curled up in Corpse’s apartment, the two would feel each other’s absence to a very saddening degree to the point where they’d even forget the other isn’t around and would call out to them. 

Letting the call ring, Y/N’s hand comes up to smooth out their hair. However, the touch reveals to them that their hair needs a bit more than a simple tap or a pat to be tamed so while they wait for Corpse to answer the call, they quickly head to their bathroom. Flicking the light on, their reflection greets them with the underwhelming news of the actual state of their hair at the moment: an absolute mess. They proceed to do their best with the single hair-tie they have handy. A bobby pin or two would be neat but they have no time to go and grab one right now, seeing as how they can’t recall if they even brought them back from Corpse’s apartment. If they didn’t, they would have to search their roommate’s room for some which would take an even longer amount of time.

Eventually, they manage to tame it in something closely resembling a presentable ponytail and exit the bathroom feeling more exhausted than before. With a loud sigh, they crash onto their bed, face-first into the sea of pillows, groaning at the slight sting of their muscles relaxing at last.

“Y/N?“ The decently loud mention of their name by a deep, familiar yet sudden and unexpected voice startles them to the point of squealing and jumping an entire inch away from where they were positioned.

They look around their room in a frenzy, wondering where on Earth that voice came from and how it could be here with them right now.

“Y/N, you there?”, before they could locate it, it emerges once again, helping Y/N get an ide of where it’s coming from - somewhere in the messed up bed sheets.

“Corpse?“ They finally find their voice, “Y-yeah I’m here. Question is: how are you...“ and then it all clicks, causing them to twist their face in an expression of utter disappointment and bury it in the palms of their hands, groaning.

“You forgot about the video chat, didn’t you?“ Corpse asks, amusement not even attempted to be hidden in his voice.

“Yup.“

II

It’s been one hell of a day. Y/N’s college lectures exhausted them to a max and their six hour job following their classes did nothing to help them AT ALL. Quite the opposite actually. Makes sense why they look, move and talk the way they’re doing right now: like a ghost, zombie and an elder combined in one. To add to their misfortunes for the day, they were met with the mocking ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign taped to the doors of the elevator, laughing in their face with the information that their hellish experience for the day is far from over.

Just the thought of having to climb to the fifth floor made their stomach turn in the most unpleasant way possible, but the though of how long that would take made matters even worse. Arriving at their designated apartment, they have every right to be pissed, cussing their heart out. 

However, then comes a new problem: the inability to pinpoint the correct key. They proceed to curse themselves, the keys, the door handle and the door itself before punching the poor wood that did no wrong and just stands here, serving its purpose of keeping unwanted people out of the apartment it’s guarding.

Following their anger outburst and front-door-abuse, they proceed to try finding the correct key once again, this time slightly more calmly as to not accidentally miss it in their frantic rifling.

Right as they’re about to try the third key, however, the door opens. Well, it’s opened by someone on the other side, that someone being none other than their boyfriend Corpse who’s currently staring at them wide-eyed, one eyebrow raised, the word ‘confused’ basically written across his face.

While he’s processing the sight in front of him, Y/N lets out a little scream, jumping back and away from the door, a hand placed over their chest as their wide eyes scan their boyfriend who now seems equally terrified as a result of their reaction.

“Corpse?!“ They manage to gasp, barely hearing their own voice over the loud thumping of their heart and the rush of blood in their ears, “What the hell are you doing here?!“

The confusion on Corpse’s face deepens, reaching whole new levels as his eyes gaze deeper into theirs, searching for the meaning behind their bizarre question. “You mean...at my own apartment? What am I doing, at home?“

For a few seconds, the two just stare blankly at one another, processing everything that’s just happened. Suddenly, it all just kinda caves for Y/N and they burst out laughing, doubling over, their arms clutching at their stomach as they do so. Their laughter is contagious, so Corpse can’t help but let out a few chuckles himself.

“Alright, you’ve been driven to insanity, I can tell.“ He mumbles at his reckless partner, coming up behind them and wraps his arms around them, lifting them up and carrying their laughing ass inside.

III

Finally deciding to sit down and get this damn project started, Y/N already feels like they’ve had enough of it, burnout already creeping in and threatening to ruin their work and trip them up every step of the way. It wouldn’t have been so bad had the subject not been one they absolutely despise and wish they could get out of studying but alas they’re stuck with it.

They equip their headphones as soon as they plant their butt on the desk chair in their tiny room in their tiny roommate-shared apartment, putting their Spotify playlist on shuffle as they open a blank Power Point document. They work better with music blasting in their ears since the silence tends to be too loud and distracting when they’re trying to focus. So, that way they can also sing their heart out in peace and not get disturbed by the sound of their own off-key singing. Win-win, basically.

Singing ‘Never Forget You’ by Zara Larsson and MNEK, they get a little carried away, ditching the project to enter a full-blown music video they can imagine down to the detail in their mind.

However, there’s a surprise awaiting them.

As soon as MNEK’s part of the song begins, another voice apart from his echoes through their headphones, singing along to the song. Freaking the fuck out, they let out a loud scream, smacking the headset off them, sending the object falling and landing on their laptop keyboard with a crash that only serves to further startle their roommate’s dog which comes to check if they are being attacked or something only to be disappointed by the lack of action.

When pushing the headphones off, they did so with a force strong enough to snap the cable out of the laptop entirely so now the room is filled with the sound of that same foreign voice laughing his ass off.

A voice that belongs to no other than Corpse Husband himself.

“You gotta learn to disconnect from Discord calls, Y/N.“ The fucker says, still cackling wholeheartedly at his partner’s misery.

Pissed off or not, Y/N would have to admit he’s got a point. But they’d also rather never speak again than admit it so...

“Fuck you!“ is what they say instead, seconds before disconnecting.

IV

Making breakfast is not something either Corpse or Y/N are used to, mostly cause they both either wake up late or skip the meal entirely. Regardless, having been given a day off from work and having no classes since it’s Saturday, Y/N saw no better way to start their day off than to prepare a nice breakfast for them and their boyfriend to enjoy. Problem is: they aren’t the most skilled in the kitchen. Sure they can scramble an egg or make mac and cheese, but in order to do it correctly they are not allowed to have distractions of any kind. Not even music, that’s how you know it’s serious.

Seeing as how Corpse has never seen them cook, he’s obviously unaware of theirs. The dummy straight up waltzes into the kitchen, unintentionally remaining unspotted and unheard by Y/N because he’s barefoot and because they have their back turned to him.

“Whatya cooking over there babe?“

Y/N’s focus bubble, being as thin as it is and considering they initially thought Corpse was still asleep, they have every right to let out the yelp they just did, dropping the egg they were gonna crack over the pan in said pan in its entirety - yes, shell and all.

A moment of silence commences: regretful on Corpse’s end and frustrated on theirs. Neither of them dares to say anything to avoid triggering the other. Well, that’s the case until Y/N decides enough’s enough and they turn to look at him, a wide, obviously fake smile plastered onto their face.

“Scrambled eggs, following a secret recipe, property of the L/N family.“

Seems like your pre-breakfast snack is an extra large dose of sarcasm, huh?

V

“So, how was your day? You sound pretty chipper so I take it wasn’t a nightmare like a few days ago.“ Corpse comments over the phone, listening to shuffling and shifting as Y/N moves around the apartment, getting ready to head out.

“It was great actually. Got some important results back and, not to brag or anything, but they were higher than I expected.“ They reply, a genuine wide grin refusing to leave their face as they silently count the amount of money they’ve got in their wallet. “I’m gonna go buy a cake so we can celebrate it. It’s no small deal, trust me, especially not when I initially thought I’d fail both these exams to the point of being pitied.“

“Wait...-“ Corpse attempts, his voice suddenly sounding strained and urgent but that’s the very reason he cannot seem to find or get the right words out of his system. Not that Y/N gives him any time to figure it out.

“No Corpse, you cannot change my mind. Cake and beers, we’re celebrating toni- SHIT!“ They scream as they throw open the front door, bumping square into someone standing on the other side, almost dropping their phone.

Taken aback by embarrassment and fear, they leap back, their eyes searching for the ones of the person whose personal space they just invaded. Well, to be fair, he was the one invading their personal space by standing right outside the door to their - well, to Corpse’s apartment.

The fear and irritation die down almost instantly when Y/N recognizes the person standing opposite them.

“Mind telling me why we’re talking on the phone when you could’ve come in and we could’ve had a normal person conversation?!“ They snap, ironically enough - they’re still holding the phone to their ear.

So is Corpse whos is smiling guiltily, “That’s why I called, I forgot my keys, but I got...carried...sorry.”

Well, at least this serves as proof Y/N’s not the only forgetful one.

                                                            ~  ~  ~

Corpse has been stuck in his recording room for four hours now, never stopping his stream to take care of his basic human needs such as eating or going to the bathroom. This behavior of his has Y/N worried sick and unable to focus on the task at hand - an assignment they’ve been trying to finish for two hours now, sitting with their computer on their lap and looking hopelessly at the blank Word document waiting for them to fill it up while they are waiting for it to start writing itself.

Seeing as how neither are gonna happen, not until Y/N puts their mind at ease, they slowly put the laptop aside, standing up to carefully skip on over to Corpse’s recording room to check on him, stopping by the kitchen to grab him a snack and a bottle of water along the way.

The door to the darkened room is open a crack, as usual, suggesting they can enter without knocking - this also means he’ll probably not hear them even if they knock so the whole gesture would be pointless. Not that Y/N has a tendency to knock or anything... Waltzing in, they find that the only light in the room is the very faint and dark glow of the computer screen which is displaying a dark and dingy room from a first-person view of the protagonist of whatever game Corpse’s currently playing.

“Corpse?!“ They whisper-yell/hiss at him, trying their best to grasp his attention without startling him - they don’t need to be told that the game is of the horror genre and the last thing they need is for their boyfriend to flip backwards and fall out of his chair because they scared the shit out of him. “Hey?!“

Neither attempts prove futile so, despite their best instincts telling them differently, they walk over to him and tap him on the shoulder. The reaction, while within the realm of expectancy, is a lot more startled than they expected, accompanied by a scream on top of all. They’d never heard him scream in fear before, it’s quite amusing if they’re being honest.

They suppress a snicker as Corpse’s wide open eyes meet their squinting ones in the darkness, “Y/N...babe...what is it? Is everything ok?”

Y/N rolls their eyes, “No, everything isn’t ok. Your unhealthy habit of forgetting to take care of yourself, for example.” They put the snack and the bottle on the his desk, giving him their best disappointed-parent look before turning on their heel to strut their way out of the room. However, just as they are about to make their exit, they stop right at the doorframe, giving their stunned one final glance over their shoulder with a smug smirk playing across their face, “Oh and by the way, that’s what I like to call revenge.” Just like that, they leave, pushing the door back into its previous position.

And boy, is it some sweet, sweet revenge.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

NO

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

*

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

*

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

*

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

LE

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

*

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

*

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

[ikeromantic]

First Day

This is an Ikemen Sengoku coffee shop AU. Approx 1700 words. Nobunaga, the owner of Azuchi Cafe, hires a girl to work in his coffee shop alongside his other oddball employees.

Pastry Chef and little rain cloud: Ieyasu Tokugawa

Head Chef and irredeemable flirt: Masamune Date

Dining Room Manager and rule-master: Hideyoshi Toyotomi

Barista and most popular kid in your class: Ranmaru Mori

Barista and coffee disaster: Mitsunari Ishida

Accountant and walking bad-boy vibe: Mitsuhide Akechi

I have never written a coffee shop AU and I have no idea what I'm doing.

Nobunaga unlocked the back door at 3am. It was so early most people would still call it night, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet at this hour. As if he were the sole living human in a world of stray cats and blinking traffic lights.

He flipped on the lights and began morning prep. As the owner of Azuchi Cafe, he didn’t need to be the shop opener, but he was the kind of man who’d never ask his employees to do something he wouldn’t do himself. This meant he often worked from opening until close, cleaning the kitchen at 10pm. It was something he was proud of, even if it was exhausting some days.

Ieyasu arrived a few minutes later, along with the morning shipment. Fresh fruit, cream, some new coffee bean varieties, and other items he stocked daily. The blond was quiet as he helped unload. Not a morning person, not by a longshot.

Once the crates were inside, Ieyasu made a beeline for the espresso machine and had two cups on the counter before Nobunaga completed his inventory check.

The blond downed both cups and then got started in the kitchen. He was too smart for a cafe job - easily one of the best bakers Nobunaga had ever met. And this cafe was blessed with two, though the other man was a polar opposite of the silent, serious Ieyasu Tokugawa.

As if thinking of him summoned him, the back door swung open and in swaggered Masamune. “Good morning!” His voice was loud and vibrant, as always. He never needed caffeine to feel awake - Masamune was naturally caffeinated.

“D’you have to be so loud?” Ieyasu glared.

“Do you have to be such a grouch?” Masamune raised his one eyebrow. His other eye was covered with a pirate-style eyepatch. The look wasn’t just for effect. He’d lost his left eye to a childhood illness, but that hadn’t dampened his spirit or enthusiasm.

Ieyasu held up a dough covered middle finger in response and went back to making croissants.

Masamune put a hand to his heart. “Such cruelty.”

“Stop bickering and start cooking.” Nobunaga tried to sound stern but couldn’t help the little smile on his lips.

The two of them did, though the grumbling and sniping never really stopped.

While Ieyasu handled bakery items, Masamune was in charge of the grill. Hot sandwiches, soups, and whatever else he decided to put on the menu. Nobunaga had given up trying to restrain him. The man was a genius cook, and whatever he made sold, so it made sense to give him his head.

Akechi showed up next. Mitsuhide was an accountant by trade, with a law degree besides. He didn’t technically work at the shop, but he did the books and didn’t charge much for the work. Nobunaga wasn’t sure why he spent so much time at the cafe, but he’d become a fixture. Showing up before opening to do Azuchi’s books and then sitting in the dining area, working on his laptop for hours.

“Anything I should know about,” Nobunaga called, before Mitsuhide disappeared into the cafe office.

“If there was, I’d tell you. Probably.” Mitsuhide gave him his trademark smile, sly like a fox.

“It’s that probably that worries me.” Nobunaga frowned. He didn’t actually believe Mitsuhide would sabotage him. Not after so many years as a client. But with that man, you never quite knew where you stood.

Akechi shrugged. “I can’t think of a reason not to - but you never know.” He disappeared into the office, and soon the only sound from that room was the clacking of a keyboard.

The sky to the east was beginning to lighten, the stars fading from view. It would be time to open soon. As if on cue, Mitsunari showed up with Ranmaru in tow. They were the baristas, taking orders, making coffee, and serving the sit-down diners.

“Isn’t it a beautiful morning?” Mitsunari said this to Ieyasu’s back as he passed him.

The blond snorted. “It looks like every morning. Literally, exactly the same.”

“And every morning is beautiful.” Mitsunari Ishida smiled. “I am so lucky to work with such wonderful people. It will be a great day. I can feel it.”

Ranmaru laughed. “Absolutely. Just ignore old grumble-pants here. We are going to have an awesome day.”

“I am not old,” Ieyasu snapped.

“You are compared to me!” Ranmaru was the youngest in the crew, and he liked to remind the others about it.

“That’s enough. Get up to the front and prep the display. Both of you.” Nobunaga pointed toward the front counter.

Ranmaru gave him a pouty look, but did as he was told. Despite his penchant for causing trouble in the kitchen, he was great with customers, and pretty reliable.

Mitsunari didn’t seem to realize he’d been in the middle of the bickering. He just smiled and followed Ranmaru to the front.

That one, Nobunaga thought, was dangerous. At first impression, Mitsunari Ishida seemed like an airhead. Cheerful to the point of being vapid, and clumsy as well. But he could take orders faster than anyone else, remember which customer had which preference, and quote the menu without a glance at the board on the wall. He was great, so long as you didn’t ask him to pour the coffee.

At opening, Hideyoshi finally sidled in. He was the dining room manager, in charge of the servers, and everything on the front end. Nobunaga trusted him implicitly. Most cafe owners had to worry about theft and inattention from their cash-handling employees, but not him. Not with Hideyoshi Toyotomi at the counter. That man was a veritable saint, if sometimes a little melodramatic about his service.

“I know you told me I didn’t need to be here until 10, since you open. But I couldn’t let you handle everything alone.” Hideyoshi’s version of ‘good morning’ as he tied his apron on.

Nobunaga sighed. “You are my closing manager, Hideyoshi. You’re going to be stuck here until 10 or 11 tonight . . . and you realize, I do have employees here, helping, right?”

Toyotomi nodded. “Sure, sure. But extra hands always help with morning rush, right?”

“Right. And that’s why I have a new hire coming in at 8.” Nobunaga sighed.

“A new hire?” Mitsunari’s violet gaze lit up. “Will I get to train them?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ieyasu grumbled. “We want them to make coffee, not learn how to dump the pot on the floor.”

“Stop being so mean,” Ranmaru sniped back, defending Mitsunari.

“Hey, hey! The new employee isn’t gonna get trained by any of you. Clearly, the boss is going to put them with me. To pass on my culinary genius.” Masamune’s one eye sparkled.

“No, no, and absolutely not,” Nobunaga said, raising his voice. “Hideyoshi and I are going to train them. If the lot of you don’t terrify them into quitting on their first day.”

And that was the end of that discussion. It was 5am and the door opened. The steady stream of customers kept everyone busy for the next few hours. Lattes and cappuccinos, americanos and macchiatos, and decaf for those in denial. The flow began to slack as 8am approached. Most people were at work now, coffee in hand.

Clean-up started in the kitchen, and Hideyoshi began on the dining room.

The glass front door opened at 8am sharp. The new hire walked in. This wasn’t Nobunaga’s first time meeting her, but he still felt a twang in his chest as she smiled brightly at no one in particular.

“I hope I’m not late!”

Hideyoshi eyed her up and down, nodding to himself. Flat shoes, cute but practical. Hair pulled back sensibly - stylish, but not overdone. Professional clothes, fitted and comfortable. He hadn’t been part of the interview but he was feeling pretty positive about this candidate. He gave Nobunaga a nod.

“No, you’re right on time,” Mitsunari replied, leaning on the counter. His angelic smile was fixed on her.

The impact was obvious. One did not face the pure, focused joy of Mitsunari and not feel it. She blinked for a moment, stunned, her cheeks flushing. “Oh. Well that’s good, right?”

“Sure is,” Ranmaru said, coming around the side of the bakery display. He wiped his hands on his apron and held one out to her. “Welcome to Azuchi!”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Nobunaga grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m cuter when I say it.” Ranmaru’s cheek reply got a chuckle from Masamune.

The one-eyed chef came out from the kitchen to observe. He wasn’t looking for whatever qualities Hideyoshi had, but what he saw made him grin. “Well, lass, I’d say welcome again but that’d make me look like an idiot. How ‘bout I help you put on an apron and show you around the place?”

“Again, my line,” Nobunaga said tiredly.

Ieyasu poked his head out from the back and sighed heavily. “Great. Another fluff head to train. Look, when you get bored listening to these idiots, come find me in the kitchen. I’ll try to teach you to bake. I’m sure you can manage a simple recipe. Probably.”

The girl looked unsure how to respond. She finally shrugged. “Yeah, ok! I’m here to work, so whatever you want to teach me, I want to learn.”

“You’d be better off learning how to keep the books,” said an amused voice behind Ieyasu.

The girl’s eyes darted up as Mitsuhide came out from the back. “Not that I’m hiring. I don’t do internships either,” he continued. He stepped out from behind the counter and closed in on her like a stalking cat. His golden eyes slid down from her face, over her chest and hips, down her legs, and back up, slow as syrup. “Though I can think of some reasons to make an exception.” He handed her a business card. “For when you tire of this service job.”

“Ah, thanks?” She glanced at the card and by the time she looked up again he was gone.

“Everyone, get back to work. I’m handling the new hire. You’ll all get a chance to train with her. I want her to work swing, so she’ll need to know a little of everything.” Nobunaga clapped once.

The workers all got back to it, though not without plenty of backward glances.

Hideyoshi handed the girl an apron. “Good luck!”

[babymetaldoll]

The morning after (Spilling drinks on my settee part 2) Spencer Reid/Reader

Requested: Yes! it’s my first request! thank you, anon!! 

Prompt: Hungover Spencer has to face Reader after she caught him drunk, puking outside her house. He also has to face Morgan’s teasing after he confessed he was in love with Reader.

Pairing: Spencer/Reader 

Warnings: none 

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1,9K 

Part one here

Masterlist 

.

If it had been up to Spencer, he would have never left his bed that day. As soon as he opened his eyes, the headache that hit him made him realize that was going to be a long day. A long and shitty day. 

He sat on his bed slowly ‘cos the whole room was spinning. He was still fully dressed, why? There was puke on his shoes and pants… and a Gatorade on his nightstand? He was confused, he didn’t leave that there, right? no… maybe? he didn’t really remember. Why was he still dressed? he didn’t remember. How did he get home? he didn’t remember

- “Shit!”

Until he did. 

There was a flash of embarrassment, guilt, and nausea on his face, suddenly it was all coming back. 

- “Shit!”

That was the only word Spencer could use. He had gotten drunk, confessed to Morgan he was in love with (Y/N), he had actually tried to…

- “Shit!”

Maybe alcohol had managed to unplug a part of Reid’s brain, ‘cos apparently, “shit” was the only thing he was able to pronounce, at least for a few minutes.  

All the embarrassing memories of the night before kept coming back to his mind, they were fragments of someone else’s life he was watching from outside. It was all too humiliating. (Y/N) saw him puking outside her house. He was outside her house ‘cos he wanted to know why she had been out on a date with a guy from a dating website. He had told Morgan he loved her, and nearly cried. 

Spencer Walter Reid was doomed, and he knew it. It was going to take a lot of courage, patience, and Gatorade to go through that day. 

His cellphone kept buzzing, but once he realized it wasn’t a case, but (Y/N) and Morgan trying to reach him, he ignored it the whole subway ride to work. He couldn’t even read, his brain wasn’t working, he couldn’t concentrate at all. He just wanted to disappear forever. What had he done? how could he ever face (Y/N) after what happened? And what if Morgan had already told everyone what happened? of course he had, Reid thought, and his red cheeks were now purple. 

Humiliation was written across his face and his stomach tightened as he set foot into the bullpen. He took a quick look around and sighed relieved. Apparently, there was no one else there yet, the whole place seemed empty, although there was a fresh cup of coffee with extra sugar on his desk, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles. 

That could only mean one thing. 

- “Hey, how are you feeling this morning?”- Spencer froze in panic and turned around very, very slowly. His heart was beating so fast, he was sure (Y/N) could listen to it. She was waving at him with a shy smile on her face. She didn’t look mad, or uncomfortable. She looked… worried. 

- “H… he… hey, (Y/N)-” he stuttered and waved. He knew he had to say something- anything- but nothing seemed to come to mind. He was literally speechless. 

- “How are you feeling?”

- “G… g… good, I’m good, I’m ok”- Spencer wanted to slap himself. He was humiliated already, but his behavior wasn’t making it any better. He had to put his shit together somehow.

- “I’m glad”- she sighed relieved, rubbing his arm sweetly, and her touch made him shiver right away. He tried to smile at her, but he was left speechless again. It was a painful scene to see. 

- “I was worried sick, you didn’t pick up your phone earlier”- Reid just nodded and looked down.

- “I got you the best recipe to cure your hangover, coffee of course, and I filled half the cup with sugar, just the way you like it”- the way (Y/N) stuck out her tongue and giggled, hypnotized him.

- “I made you a grilled cheese sandwich, I don't know how many times you've woken up feeling like shit after a party, but I'm pretty sure I’ve got a lot more experience than you, and greasy food always helps me coming back to life.”

Spencer nodded, trying to follow the conversation, but his brain was still malfunctioning and his head was pounding sharp and heavy. 

- “And your favorite donut 'cos you need extra sugar”

- “Thanks”- his voice was a sweet whisper. (Y/N) looked at him worried and rubbed a hand on his arm gently again.

- “Are you gonna tell me what the fuck happened last night?”- the painful grimace on Spencer's face was enough.

- “I'm just worried something bad happened to you “

- “No, no, no”- he shook his head frenetically and regretted the movement immediately. His head was killing him- “I just couldn't handle my drinks, that's all.”

- “Are you sure?”- lying to profilers could be the hardest thing on earth.

- “Yeah, yeah”

- “Good, I was worried you were going to call in sick…”- there was a short silence between them, they just stared at each other and sighed. 

(Y/N) couldn’t stop thinking he had called her “Buttercup” and didn’t know how to ask him to do it again, and again, every day. And Reid had no idea what to do next. So he just said the first thing that came to mind.  

- “Did you know hangovers are estimated to cost $148 billion each year due to hangover individuals calling in sick to work or performing poorly on the job.”  

- “Pretty boy!!”

Derek’s voice walking over them made Spencer’s heart stop in fear, he just waved at his friend with his less expressive smile - the one (Y/N) called “frog face”- and just prayed to whatever god that might exist, that Morgan wouldn’t embarrass him more than he was already. 

- “How are you feeling today, kid?”

- “I’m ok, thanks” 

- “You are lucky there’s no case, yet”- Dr. Reid nodded and looked around, trying to find a way to run away from Morgan and (Y/N). 

- “Nice breakfast”

- “I thought he was going to need extra energy today”- the young woman smiled proudly- “And when are you going to explain to me what happened last night? why did you let him get that drunk?”

Morgan knew (Y/N) was going to be mad at him, so he just looked at Spencer and waited to see if he had made up any lie already 

- “I… I told you, I just couldn’t keep up with Derek”

- “Yeah”- his friend immediately supported his lie. Which wasn’t a complete lie- “I pushed Reid to drink at my pace, and I guess pretty boy ain’t ready to drink like a man.”

On a regular day, Spencer would have hated that last comment, ‘cos he was sick and tired of his friend treating him like a toddler. But under those circumstances, he just nodded and tried to stay calm. 

- “And why were you outside my house?” 

- “We were looking for a cab, started walking… and Reid remembered you live close to the bar”- Spencer’s eyes opened wide at those words- “And he wanted to stop by.”

- “No I didn’t”- Reid knew he would lose in a fight with Derek, but he was willing to give it a try and punch him if that successfully stopped him from talking.  

- “Kid, you were drunk, you don’t remember, but you wanted to stop by and see (Y/N)”- the girl looked at Reid and bit her lips

- “Is that so? you got drunk and started thinking of me?”

Spencer couldn’t speak. He felt his hands shaking, so he hid them in his pockets and tried to come up with anything, literally anything to say. But he had nothing.  

- “Yes, pretty boy wanted to see you…”- Morgan just smiled, tapped on Spencer’s back, and walked away chuckling. He knew Reid needed a push to open up to (Y/N). Maybe this was what he needed. 

- “Why did you think of me?”- (Y/N) was now intrigued and excited. Drunk Reid was a whole new side of her friend, and the fact he had dragged Derek to her house when he was intoxicated gave her a little hope. Maybe he liked her too, the way she was head over feet for him.

- “I…”- Spencer was chocking with words, he turned around, grabbed the coffee, and took a sip of it. 

- “You?”

- “I don’t remember”- disappointment was written all over (Y/N)’s face. They just stared. Spencer drank his coffee and the girl simply sighed. 

- “I see”- he could read there was something there, but he didn’t want to get his hopes high. He was sure (Y/N) could never feel the same way he did. Right?

- “Can I ask you something?”- he whispered- “Why didn’t you tell me about the dating website?”

Now (Y/N) was embarrassed. She couldn’t take her eyes from her friend’s as she kept thinking about what to say. How to lie? 

- “It wasn’t important, Prentiss forced me, I didn’t want to do it”- she simply confessed and smiled- “Why?” 

- “I don’t know, it was weird, I thought… well…”

- “You know I tell you everything important”- (Y/N) wanted to make sure Spencer understood that the date had meant nothing. 

- “And… are you planning to do it again?”

- “Never”- the smile on her lips was so honest, Spencer’s heart was relieved- “So, tomorrow’s Saturday, got any plan?”- those words, they were music for his ears. 

- “Actually, there is a Russian horror movie festival tomorrow night, they’ll be showing Solaris, Viy, and Lyumi”

- “Original Russian, I presume”

- “But this time I’m pretty sure there will be subtitles”- (Y/N) pouted disappointed.

- “Bummer, I like when you have to translate the whole movie for me”- and she meant it, having Reid whispering every word in her ear for two hours was the closest she had been to heaven in her entire life. The young doctor chuckled with a huge grin and turned to his desk again. 

- “Usually, translation doesn’t represent the intention behind the dialog…”- Reid was full of it and he knew it, but he had nothing to lose and lot to win- “So if you want, I can still whisper the English version for you”.

Those last words left his lips as quickly as possible, ‘cos he was embarrassed. 

- “Then it’s a date”- her smile was bigger than imagined when she turned around and started walking to her desk. 

Was it a date? why did she say that? Reid tried to stay cool and not overthink everything, but it was Reid, which meant it was hard, nearly impossible. Overthinking was his thing. 

He wanted to go out on a date with (Y/N), but… was that actually a date? what if he brought flowers for her and she didn’t mean “date” as a date but just as two friends going out together? that would be mortifying. 

(Y/N) didn’t know if Spencer had thought she wanted it to be a real date. She did, she just didn’t know if she was asking or if he had or… 

Yes, they were both excellent overthinkers. 

- “Hey, honey”- if she was already embarrassed and anxious about using the word “date”, she could always make it worst.

Spencer turned to look at her he took a bite of his sandwich. 

- “It was really sweet last night when you called me Buttercup”- Reid nearly choked. He had completely forgotten about it, and suddenly he felt the urge to run and hide. But he couldn’t even move. He couldn’t even swallow the food he was chewing 

- “You had never called me by a nickname before…”- she bit her lips and took a deep breath- “I loved it… in case you want to use it again.”

Spencer nodded and watched his best friend walk away to get herself a coffee. He could feel someone else’s eyes on him from across the office. Morgan winked at him and nodded. 

- “Nice, kid”

.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death'; violence, attempted rape.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So this is for black Friday and then I’ll be working all today and tomorrow and schedule’s are super late so I dunno when Im working after that. Hope you guys enjoy and don’t hesitate to drop by my asks.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Arvin let you pick the record. You found it among the box of your daddy’s music. It was one of your favourites and you were glad he wasn’t bothered by Patsy Cline’s droll tones. He seemed to enjoy it as he sat and read a magazine and you searched for a button from your large tin to match that missing from Roy’s jacket.

“You ever listen to Elvis?” He looked up from behind the pages.

“I… I heard him on the radio but you know we haven’t got new records since Daddy died,” you said as you continued your hunt. “And Roy don’t like all that new music. He says it’s no good.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to like much, does he?” Arvin sniffed, “I always knew he was a grouch but I just thought it was the job.”

“He’s not… He’s just stressed. He works so much.” You looked down and settled on a button that was close enough. 

“You do too,” Arvin hid behind the magazine again. “You should be the one goin’ out and doin’ what you like on a Saturday. Hell, if he ain’t gonna spend his time with you, you should do something of your own.”

“I like sewing,” you shrugged as you threaded the button, “You know, it’s not so bad. I get time to myself. A lot of people can’t say that.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” he flicked the page.

You were silent. You didn’t know how to respond. He was skirting around what he really wanted to say, what you didn’t want him to talk about. The tension in the air thickened as you feared he would admit that he knew or you might confess that your husband wasn’t much of one. Hell, you’d yet to accept that yourself.

Your fears were assuaged by the sudden clatter on the porch and the hinges of the door as it was swung open. You sat up and set aside Roy’s jacket. You stood as he staggered inside. He always did like to drink when he fished, or did much of anything else. You frowned as he tracked mud in on his tall rubber boots.

“Roy, you’re making a mess,” you said as you went to the doorway and watched him stumble around the entryway.

“Keep ya busy,” he slapped a hand on the wall and wiggled his leg free of a boot. “There’s a whole pail of fish out front too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as his cheeks glowed. You doubted he’d be awake that long. “Well, I’ll just fry those up while you sit down.”

“Agh,” he tripped over his other boot as he slipped it off and Arvin brushed by you to catch him.

“Hey, Roy,” he took his arm, “How was the fishing? Why don’t you sit down? We’ll have a beer.”

“I almost forgot about you, boy,” he shook free of Arvin and ambled closer to you, “Maybe you can hide away after dinner for a while?”

He dragged his hand up your thigh and slapped your ass as he passed you. Arvin turned as Roy clumsily traipsed into the living room and fell onto the couch. He looked at you but you couldn’t stand to meet his.

“Sure,” Arvin uttered, “I’ll just go get those fish first.”

He disappeared through the front door and you crossed your arms as you turned to watch your husband. His head lolled as he chuckled.

“You think he ever fucked a girl?” He asked, “Boy tiptoes around like a virgin.”

“That’s crass, Roy,” you reproached.

“Don’t act so innocent,” he snapped, “If you didn’t, maybe I’d… well.”

His words trailed off and he closed his eyes. He yawned and sighed loudly. You grimaced and listened to the door as it hit the frame again. Arvin continued onto the kitchen as Roy began to snore. It must have been a record how quickly he’d passed out this time.

You went through to the kitchen as Arvin drained the water from the pail of fish. You went to the drawer and got a knife. You rest it on its end as you gripped it and looked out the window.

“He’s already out for the night,” you said, “You hungry?”

“I said I’d make the fish, I meant it.”

“Nah, I’ll flay them and put ‘em in the fridge,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you’re stuck here with us. Sorry he’s always drunk.” You looked down at the blade. You didn’t say what you really wanted to. Sorry you were stupid enough to choose Roy.

“That isn’t your fault and you know, I don’t mind it so much.” He neared, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? That’s worth it.”

You nodded but couldn’t smile. He always tried to make things seem nicer than they were. He was much better at it than you were.

“You comin’ to church tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he answered like it was obvious.

You turned away and laid out the fish across the cutting board. He stayed behind you, the record silenced and began to skip.

“I think I got somethin’ nice I can find.” He left you and the crackle of the Victrola died.

You slice the fish, careful not to cut your fingers as you deboned it and tossed away the heads and tails. You heard Arvin speak in a low voice and a grumble. Then heavy footsteps interspersed with lighter ones. The stairs groaned and you kept on, wrapping the filets in paper and tucking it away.

You cleaned up and washed the smell off your hands. The living room was empty so you climbed the stairs and found Roy face down on your bed. You turned to the open attic and Arvin descended the ladder.

“You got him to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Wasn’t so hard. Poked him a few times.” He grinned. “So what time do I needa be ready for church?”

“We leave about twenty minutes before service. It’s at eight.” You answered, “Oh, you know what--” You raised your index finger, “One sec.”

You spun and scurried into your father’s room. It was just as it had been before he died except now there were boxes stacked along one wall. You pushed open the closet and fluttered through the clothes hanging within. You pulled out the old grey suit and white shirt that had yet to yellow. You grabbed a tie from the drawer as you passed the dresser.

You smelled them as you went back to the door as Arvin peeked in.

“For church,” you held them out, “My daddy was a bit taller but he got skinny near the end. I can pin up the pants for you and you’ll look just fine.”

“Oh,” he face paled, “You-- I can’t--”

“Roy’ll never fit into these so please,” you pushed them against his chest. “And I don’t think he’ll be up in time for church so I need you to drive.”

He smiled and took the clothes. He hugged them as if they were precious. “Thank you. I’m gonna sound like you for a moment but you really didn’t have to.”

“You think I’m gonna forget that you promised to make the fish? It’ll be a nice Sunday night dinner.” You inhaled deeply, “I think that for tonight, I’m gonna lay down though.”

“Alright,” he let you past, “You have a good night.”

“You too,” you neared your bedroom door as Roy’s snores grew louder, “Might have to stuff my ears with cotton.”

🚬

As you expected, Roy was too hungover to get up for church. You didn’t really go for the sermons but your daddy made it a habit when you were young to make sure you got to see the other kids in town. Sunday school had socialised you in the circles of the small town but they had proven less than welcoming. And since you’d grown out of your education, you went to trade recipes with some of the other wives.

Arvin was awake before you. As you pulled a cardigan over your blue dress you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he appeared from the front room.

“Oh, Arvin,” you smiled, “That suit looks real nice on you. And the pants…”

“I sewed them myself last night,” he lifted his foot, “Remembered a few stitches.” He straightened the jacket, “You look real good too.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” You chimed. “Gonna have to be since Roy hasn’t moved since you dragged him to bed.”

“After you,” he waved to the door, “Think we should get goin’. My daddy woulda whipped me being late for the lord’s prayer.

You led him out the door and climbed into the truck opposite him. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. You felt calm as you smelled the early morning dew and you looked out the window as he shifted into gear. The lush green grass passed you by and trees swayed as he steered along the old country road.

As always, the church was crowded. You and Arvin squeezed in at the back. He was quiet and sombre as you entered. As you sat, you looked over at him. His jaw squared as the preacher came out and began his weekly scourge. A fire burned behind Arvin’s brown irises and he scowled for a moment before his face went placid.

You looked forward and folded your hands as you listened to Father Milton. You never cared much for his talk of hellfire and brimstone, to be fair, your daddy didn’t either, but in a small town, everyone knew when one was away from service. Roy never cared what anyone thought but you had to deal with Noreen and the other ladies at the grocer or around town about their own tasks.

When mass finished, you stood but Arvin hesitated. He stared up at the altar before he finally rose. He nodded to you and followed you and the other worshippers out into the sun.

You heard your name as you headed for the truck. You stopped and Arvin did too. You turned as Noreen, a woman older than yourself who fashioned herself to be the model for all society ladies, approached you. She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her blonde hair and took short steps in her heels.

“You promised me that carrot cake recipe. The one with the raisins.” She said. “Now I’ve been hounding you for three weeks.”

“Oh, uh,” you unclasped your pocketbook and fished out the card you’d made sure to stow after last Sunday. “Right here. I’m sorry, Noreen, but I gotta get back.”

“Where is Roy? Was he off drinkin’ again? You know, the lord did warn us all against excess.”

“Well, perhaps we can get him to come next week and you can warn him,” Arvin intoned and Noreen looked over in shock.

“Excuse me. And who is this… man you have as your escort?”

“Roy is letting the attic out to him. They work together. This is Arvin.”

“Arvin Russell,” he introduced firmly. 

“That’s an unusual name,” Noreen remarked, “You’re not from here?”

“No, but from a place like this.” He countered, “I’m gonna go get the truck goin’.”

He turned without courtesy and marched away. You looked back to Noreen as she curled her lip.

“Oh, he is a rough one, isn’t he? You have that scoundrel livin’ with you?”

“He’s a good man. Helps around the house. It’s a big place and Missy Grable has a tenant of her own.”

“Missy Grable has a farmhand to tend the fields,” Noreen lifted her chin.

You weren’t certain what to say. Noreen always found issue with whatever you said and you hated to give her further reason to.

“Well, here’s the recipe. I really ought to go.” You said.

“I understand, honey,” She smirked, “Your husband needs his caretaker… oh sorry, wife.”

You flinched but said nothing else. Your shoulders dropped as you turned away and dragged your heels through the dirt. You opened the truck and climbed in without a word. You clutched your pocketbook and stared ahead as Arvin back out of the lot.

“Pardon my saying so and I don’t use this word often, but she was a bitch,” Arvin said. “Remind me why I ain’t go to church.”

You looked down and nervously unclasped and unclasped your purse. “You didn’t have to come.”

“No, it’s your house and I wanna be a good guest,” he said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “My daddy hated goin’ too but he didn’t want me to be ostracised, you know? He told me, near the end, that he stopped believin’ durin’ the war. He said no god would let the things happen that he saw.” You leaned against the door and watched the buildings pass. “Seein’ how these Christians act, I can’t blame him.”

Arvin was quiet as you left the main street and the house began to thin out until the country sprawled out around you.

“My sister…” he said so low you barely heard him. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “My cousin, she was tricked by a preacher man. She was young and too willing to love. And he was just a liar. He knocked her up then refused her.” His voice was brittle and you glanced over as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “She hung herself but it was that snake-tongued charlatan who killed her.” He shook his head. “No god would take her like that. No god would let a man sworn to him trick the innocent.” He rubbed his forehead as his eyes bore into the distance, “I’m sorry. Just been a while since I sat in a pew.”

“No, I’m… sorry. Sorry about your cousin.” You said, “I didn’t-- You can stay home next week.”

He pondered it and a little smile curled his lips. “Don’t think I will. Think I’d like to see that Noreen again. Maybe say a prayer for her soul, wherever it may be.”

🚬

Roy was still in bed when you got home. You tried to rouse him and he swatted you away. You brought him a sandwich and some water and left it beside him. You went back down to clean up as Arvin sat in the front room, As you wiped your hands, the record player buzzed and a tune rose on noontime air.

You went to the living room as Arvin stood straight and you listened to the smooth tones of Sinatra. He turned to you as you entered. 

“I like this one,” you said. 

“Me too,” He had shed the jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, his tie disposed of. He turned his palm up as he stepped away from the player. “You dance?”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, not much of a dancer. Roy wouldn’t even at the wedding.”

“Come on. It’s a good song.” He got closer and began to sing out of tune, “I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all…”

You shied away and he caught your hand. You let him draw you closer and smiled as your cheeks warmed up.

“Just follow my lead,” he urged as he moved his feet, “Don’t look down, just one, two, one, two…” 

You moved your feet around his as he swayed you and turned you on the spot. His hand settled on your lower back and you grasped his shoulders. You were jittery as you moved with him in time to the music.

“Arvin…” You breathed. 

“Every pretty girl should dance,” he said, “I’d say you’re a hell of a dancer for a beginner.”

“Thanks,” you trilled and settled into his embrace.

“I mean it. You deserve more.” He leaned closer and you felt his hot breath on you. “You deserve the world.”

You smiled as he gazed across at you. Your heart leapt as there was a sudden clamour by the stairs and you pushed away from Arvin as Roy stomped into the doorframe. His hand fell away from your back and you tiptoed over to your husband.

“Roy, you’re awake? How ya feelin’?”

“All this goddamn noise you makin’ down here,” he grumbled, “Shut off that dang thing. There’s a game on.”

You flitted away and turned off the Victrola. You looked at Arvin as he watched Roy. He looked irritated and repulsed by the man.

“I gotta do some chores,” you muttered. “You boys enjoy the game.”

“I think I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Arvin tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be down to cook that fish in a bit.”

You watched the younger man leave and Roy turned the dial on the radio. Your husband flopped onto the couch as the commentator’s voice filled the room.

“How about a beer?” He demanded, not asked.

🚬

The day turned to night. Dinner was quiet and tense. Roy didn’t drink as much as the day before but the alcohol made little difference. Arvin was pensive and seemed to lose himself in thought. You were nervous as you thought of the dance and your temperamental husband.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just a dance. How come Roy could spend his days drunk and dozing and you couldn’t do anything you liked?

You cleaned up after supper. Arvin retreated to his room once more as Roy sat in the living room with another bottle and you tidied up. You cleared the last of the mess and looked out into the front room. Roy belched and sneered as he saw you.

“Wife,” he beckoned you forward with two fingers, “What did you do today?”

“Went to church. Cleaned.” You edged closer. “That’s all. I was real worried about you, Roy.”

“Were you?” He snorted and stood as he dropped his bottle on the table. “You didn’t seem too bothered when I came down.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped a foot away from him.

“You and that kid. You get on real well, don’t ya?” He snickered. “You down here dancing.”

“Just a dance, Roy,” you said meekly, “I didn’t wanna be rude.”

“You just wanna be a whore,” he snarled, “Huh? What you doin’ with that boy? I’m your husband.”

“I know, I know that, Roy. I never-- I didn’t do nothing.” You pleaded as he stepped closer. “I was just waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head and thrust you close to him. “You been doin’ everything but what a wife is meant for.”

He tore open the front of your dress and you cried out. “I’m gonna fuck you and let that boy hear who you belong to.”

“Stop, please.”

“Stop!? This is what you promised me, dear wife.”

You struggled with him as the smell of alcohol on his breath made you cringe. He spun you and shoved you so hard you stumbled back against the couch. You got up as he ambled after you and were knocked back by his fist. You cradled your cheek as you fell onto the cushions.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and tried to wrench your legs apart. You squeezed your knees together and slapped at him blindly as fear bubbled in your veins. He forced your legs open and knelt on the couch between them. He grabbed your throat as you tried to wriggle away and he struck you again. He never hit your face; he didn’t like people to see what he did to you.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you, you little whore.”

He reached for his fly but his face mirrored your shock as he suddenly stilled and for a moment, he froze in time before he fell back onto the floor. Arvin stepped aside to avoid the crash and turned to hit him across the face. Roy’s brow split and began to stream with blood.

Arvin struck him a third time and pointed the gun at his head as he laid prone on the floor. Roy touched the back of his skull as he stared up barrel. The whack from the butt of the gun would likely leave a worse lump than his punches.

“Get up and go.” Arvin growled. “Or I’m gonna smear this carpet with your brains.”

“Are you crazy? This is my house!” Roy barked and pushed himself up. The pistol clicked and Arvin pressed it to his head. 

“It’s her daddy’s house.”

“She’s my wife, boy.”

“You don’t act like no husband,” Arvin said gruffly, “You think I’m scared? Think I haven’t shot a man before?”

“Sure you have, boy.”

“It’s different. You go out and you hunt your bucks and they don’t know what’s comin’, they don’t even know when they shot. But a man, oh he knows to the end. He begs, even if he can’t speak, he does. It’s in his eyes, in the way he gurgles as the life drains from his lips.” Arvin kicked Roy, “And once I pull this trigger, you’ll be begging too but it’ll be too late and there ain’t no words you can say to stop the blood. So you shut up and you go before you can’t.”

You were paralysed on the couch. Your head throbbed as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You trembled as Roy stood slowly and winced as Arvin followed his movement with the muzzle of the gun. Arvin followed your husband to the door and you heard the sharp whine of the other before it clattered shut. 

Crickets chirped as dirt stirred beneath feet and you heard the old truck shudder to life. The door snapped shut and locked loudly. Arvin appeared and lowered the gun. You stared at it as he came close. He set it on the table and sat beside you as he touched your face and you winced.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled you against him, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I shoulda-- shoulda been faster.”

“Arv…” Your voice turned to a wisp and you let him hold you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you now.”

[princecharmingmendes]

Heart by Heart | Chapter II | Raul Mendes

                                          *secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Hi, this is the second chapter of this series, you can find the first one here. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like. Happy Reading!

previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 5.2K+

*Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence/crimes, migraine due to work stress, Raul teasing the reader endlessly (for me, that’s the most important warning). Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings. 

*Posted: July 8th, 2021.

                                                    -*-

A week later things were back to normal. 

Sure, the night they came back, after they were checked for any injuries on the med department and were cleared, Raul dragged her back to his apartment claiming he was craving sushi and he was only ordering if she was with him. In reality, that was a way to keeping his head busy with something else so the events of that day would be coped nicely without so much suffering. And one way of doing it was keeping his girl, best friend and partner, at a close distance so he knew she’d be safe and well. 

He was extra sweet that night, making sure she had everything she needed, even agreed to put on face masks with her while watching a random movie. And she was really glad to have him near. The thought of him getting her, or worst... it just killed her a bit. But he was safe and he had his arms securely around her, and that was enough to put her on dreamland and having a great night of sleep.

Unfortunately that was not the case for Y/N today. 

Ever since Seth was back, he spent most of his time on the med bay to recover, he had to go through surgery and was finally recovering, but ever since he was back, every piece of information he had was being collected, and she was the one responsible to write it down. Most of the info he had was encoded and she was supposed to break it. Y/N’s been working nonstop for the past week, and when she had the opportunity to relax all by herself in her house, she felt restless. The main reason is that the person who had Seth was one of the most wanted man on the planet. Geonoff Reyes was capable of the vilest things without giving a second thought, and he’s been wanted for years now, and apparently Seth had the newest information of his whereabouts and new plans.

And knowing that was enough to put Y/N in restless nights of sleep, when she was even able to drift off. Most of her hours were invested on figuring out whatever she could, and several nights were only the continuation of her job during the day. And yeah, it was reckless and a bit stupid of her to sacrifice so much in a research, but Y/N knew this was a great opportunity and the biggest amount of clues they’ve ever received, she couldn’t let this all go. And she had to work fast, so Geonoff didn’t have enough time to notice some information missing or that someone outside of his limited inner circle so he wouldn’t chance anything. Or even move outside the country again, putting a massive political obstacle on their way. 

Y/N should’ve known better than to barely get any sleep in over seven days. She knew better than to barely eat or drink anything other than coffee. She knew and did it anyone. And that’s why she ended up where she was. Seven A.M. sharp on her little office on her company’s Head Quarters with a killing migraine that only got worse under the fluorescent lights. Y/N groaned softly as she basically collided on her office chair, cursing under her breath whoever thought bright white lights was a great idea. She was softly rubbing her temples when she heard a knock on her door, before someone came in without being invited, a delicious smell of coffee coming alongside the intruder. She didn’t need to look up to know Raul would be standing right in front of her desk. 

“What?” she grumbled, spinning in her chair to turn on her computer without even sparing a glance at him. 

Raul chuckled “good morning to you too, sunshine, I’m not even daring to ask how you are”

Y/N rolled her eyes and wincing at the pain the movement brought her “look, go pester someone else, I’m not in a good day”

“Yeah, that’s easy to see, gremlin, that’s why I brought you this” and a soft thud on her desk made her turn.

Raul was standing in front of her desk as she imagined, wearing his usual black outfit, a long sleeved tight turtleneck, accentuating all the muscles on his arms and back, tucked into a pair of dark grey trousers and Y/N had to hold back all her thoughts that were rather inappropriate to have on your best friend. And she wanted to be mad at how effortlessly beautiful he looked, just standing there, hands supporting his weight on the glass table as he leant forward casually to pick at her computer. He looked like a fucking runaway model at seven in the morning, his citric scent leaving her slightly intoxicated, but she knew he didn’t do it on purpose, he was just naturally hot. 

She than darted her eyes from his body quickly to not seem as if she was ogling him, which she totally was, only to be met with a steaming cup of black coffee. She rolled her eyes on the little attempts of black hearts he drew with a sharpie alongside a poorly written ‘secret admirer’ on the disposable cup. Y/N shook her head huffing a laugh as she took it.

“Aren’t you supposed to thank me?”

Y/N arched her brow at him “what for, exactly?”

“For being the best friend you’ll ever have?!” he stated as if it was obvious “come on, you look like you need it and I swear I didn’t spike it with anything”

“You’re saying you did out of your own free will? A benevolent act?” Y/N questioned playfully inspecting the cup.

Raul scoffed feigning hurt “Of course, I’m a good guy, practically a gentleman, you gremlin, how dare you think any different?” Behind all the teasing in his voice, she could see the worry evident in his golden eyes. Raul didn’t know all the details about what she was digging into since that were her boss’s order, but he knew enough to know she was probably overworking herself and getting a bit anxious. He knew her better than anyone and there were barely any secrets between them. 

“Fine” Y/N sighed taking a sip from the coffee, and it was precisely what she liked “thank you for being a decent human being once in your lifetime”

“You are very welcome, so any news?” he asked pointing to the screens of her computer. 

“Not really, I guess I was too tired to do much last night” she said opening all the images she had collected over the past week on her five computer screens “you know basically all the important stuff I gathered, I’m also monitoring the surveillance cameras on the places he might be, trying to get a glimpse of him, but till now nothing, only this car that’s been parked here for five days now”

“Weird”

Y/N giggled to herself before closing everything again “yeah, I know”

“So, I didn’t exactly came here just for the coffee” Raul said crossing his arms across his chest, standing on his full height, his biceps popping against the fabric of his shirt. 

“Of course not, I was just waiting for you order, cap”  she said as she reached into her purse for a painkiller.

His signature smirk appeared as he beamed down at her “Don’t tempt me, doll” 

“What is it then?” she asked and before Raul could reply, someone knocked on her door.

“Come in” he managed to say before her and soon enough Raul’s copy stuck his head inside. 

“Oh hi guys” Peter said before fully walking in and closing the door behind him “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, what do you need?” Y/N said turning to face him completely. 

Seeing Peter right beside Raul just made them look a lot more different. Sure, they were triplets, but they had completely opposite personalities. While Raul looked like a super model bad boy out of every romcom, Peter looked soft and gentle. He was just as handsome, his hair a bit more messy and a pair of glasses perched on his nose, adding to the soft features. He also wore light washed jeans and a very soft looking button up, a permanent blush on his cheeks. And despite the 6’3 and big muscles, he was almost like a walking teddy bear with a golden heart, specially if you got to know him. 

“I actually have some stuff for you two to test on my lab downstairs, and I thought since I was already here I could call you two to join me”

“Oh of course” Y/N said jumping to her feet and cursing under her breath, momentarily having forgotten the excruciating migraine she was still having “now right?”

“Yeah, but only if you can”

“Sure, come on, Raul” Y/N said grabbing her cup of coffee before walking to the door.

Raul chuckled lowly before following her and his brother to the elevator “whatever you say, boss”

“Don’t give me any ideas” she mumbled before pressing the button, but as soon as the doors opened, Y/N regretted getting out of her office.

Standing on the elevator was Daphne. Daphne was one breathtakingly gorgeous woman. With bright green eyes and golden soft model like waves, always dressed nicely and with paper white teeth, and to top that, she was a great agent. But she clearly had a crush on Raul and she’s been hitting on him for a while now, but he didn’t seem to care much, which made no sense at all. And for some reason she wasn’t as friendly towards Y/N, Daphne was never directly rude, but she always made sure to look her up and down and was never her friendly self. And Y/N wasn’t one to push anyone to like her, it just made situations like this a bit more awkward. 

“Oh hello” Daphne said with a warm smile.

“Morning” Raul responded as he climbed in the elevator. 

Y/N mumbled a quick “hi” before moving to the back of it with Peter. 

Daphne turned towards Raul and gently placed her hand on his bicep “I heard about the little incident on your latest mission, are you alright?”

“Oh yeah, not even a single scratch”

“That’s great, I mean, how did it happen again? Was it a failure on the planning or watching?” she asked and Y/N almost spat the coffee she was drinking, seeing Peter send a look her way.

“It was my fault actually, the team handed it pretty well” Raul replied unceremoniously.

“Oh, I see” she said pulling her hand from his arm and nervously placing a strand of loose hair behind her ear “hm, actually there was something I wanted to ask you”

God, how long could this elevator take to arrive on the last floor.

Raul only hummed in response, turning his face to the side to watch her so Daphne proceeded “Hm, there’s this new place that opened this weekend down the street and apparently the sandwiches there are amazing, me and a few other agents were planning to have lunch there today, and I was wondering if you’d like to join”

With that he truly seemed taken aback a bit “oh, I unfortunately can’t today, I’m sorry” with that he turned back to face Y/N “that’s what I wanted to tell you earlier, we have that lunch meeting today, Shawn’s in town and he wanted to invite you to lunch with us and his friends”

“Oh shit, I completely forgot” Y/N whined, her head pounding “I don’t think I can make it today, I’m so sorry”

Raul smiled softly at her “yeah, I figured, if you get any better let me know”

“Oh you’re sick?” Daphne asked turning to her as well.

Y/N shook her head, regretting it immediately “just a bit of a migraine”

“I hope you get better soon” Daphne offered a tight lip smile and Y/N just nodded in response.   

“We’re here” Peter said for the first time “Bye, Daphne” he said getting out of the elevator pulling Y/N with him. 

“Why are you running? Slow down, you’re gonna pull my arm off” Y/N hushed it as Peter kept on with the fast pace. 

“What was that?” he asked in a low tone.

Y/N then came in realization “right?! Why won’t he go out with her?”

“I think he might be just not interested at all, but I wasn’t talking about that, you know Raul can be pretty secretive about his feelings, right?” Peter asked with an archer brow, knowing look on his eyes. 

Y/N stepped into his lab alongside him “well yeah”

“I don’t know, I think I saw something there”

“Between me and Raul?!”

Peter leaned against his desk with his arms crossed “Well, more of him towards you, it’s actually something I’ve been noticing for a while”

“What are you even talking about? He’s always been like that with me” Y/N tried avoiding Peter’s gaze, afraid somehow that would give away the little spark of hope on her eyes. 

“No, I mean, yes, but I feel like that intensified a bit, just pay attention to it” he said and then looked behind her.

Y/N turned around only to be met with Raul standing at the door “sorry, got a little caught up”

“We noticed, cap, it’s okay, no important details were discussed in your absence” she said teasingly and he just rolled his eyes playfully at her. 

“Okay, I upgraded your coms a bit, so switching between channels will be easier” Peter started picking up the little earpieces up “And I also took notes about the appearance of my glasses yeah? Now would you mind approving the design of it, miss fashion icon”

Y/N laughed softly and went to check on the 3D design “thank you, I do take fashion very seriously, I only loose it to your brother”

Raul scoffed “Of course I would be involved in it somehow”

Peter laughed “come on, I need to show you this thing I want to put on your suit, Y/N can you please check the new computer I promised you?”

“Oh my, it’s ready?” She said turning to them, suddenly feeling a lot better.

“It’s on the corner right there, just feel free to explore it and adapt it to how you like it best, and then it’s yours” Peter said with a bright smile on his features as he dragged Raul away. 

Y/N sat down on the desk he pouted at, opening the super resistant protective case and being faced with a beautiful tiny computer she could use on future missions. She finished her coffee, feeling the medicine kick in as she dumped the empty cup on the trash, before sitting down in front of her new screen and starting to work on it. Y/N lost track of time as she explored the new configurations, installed the programs she used. She only noticed she’s been there for over two hours when she felt someone carefully placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and she looked up to check the time, being met with Raul standing right beside her. 

“Oh, hi” she said feeling her face warming up as he smiled softly at her. 

“Don’t spend too much time with this, you’ll have more opportunities later, sweetheart, don’t force yourself too much” he squeezed her shoulder a bit and she sighed nodding “how are you feeling?”

She looked up at him, cracking her back on the process “Better, I think the coffee helps a bit and the painkiller did a great job”

“Good, I’m guessing you still won’t be able to make it to Shawn’s crowded and noisy lunch” Raul had a little amused look in his eyes and Y/N giggled at that, shaking her head.

“Definitely not, might as well skip lunch and nap on my lunch break”

Raul nodded “It’s tempting but you need food, now how about I take you to that salad shop you like, we buy ourselves a quick to go one, eat it at your office and nao for like, forty minutes maybe? How does that sound?”

Y/N contained the urge to lunch forward and wrap him in her arms “Pretty fucking great, but what about Shawn?”

“I’ll meet him later for dinner with Peter, so he wouldn’t mind”

“Oh”

“So, are you in, doll?”

Y/N shook her head “you had me in the forty minute nap, say no more”

Raul laughed “Of course I had, know you better than anyone”

“That is unfortunately true” she mumbled grabbing the computer and getting up.

Raul stared at her quizzically “Why is that unfortunate?”

“Cause that will only feed your ever growing ego”

“You wound me, sweetheart” he said with frightened hurt, a hand clutched over his heart. 

Y/N rolled her eyes at him as they both said their goodbyes to Peter, who only threw a knowing look in her direction and a little wink when Raul wasn’t looking. She only rolled her eyes, shoving her middle finger in the air behind Raul’s back to Peter, who only laughed in response. But Raul might have felt her arm hovering his back, cause he looked down at her, throwing his charming smile down at her and throwing his arm around her shoulders as the climbed in the elevator again. 

Oh great, now Y/N had one more thing to keep her awake all night, wondering if she was crazy and Raul could be somehow interested in her and if she should do something about it. But do what? Tell him she liked him? Kissing him? Confronting someone who already has a hard time talking feelings about how he felt about her?! Only terrible scenarios played in her head with every little thing she thought about. But before she could go on spiraling, Raul gently squeezed her shoulder making Y/N look up at him. 

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asked smirking at her and she only huffed rolling her eyes, making Raul full on laugh. 

                                                  -*-

Later that morning, they ended up following Raul’s idea. Around noon he knocked on her office again, with his leather jacket and ready to go, Y/N then just grabbed her coat and purse, ready to follow him to the elevator again. They kept a light banter, talking about conspiracy theories and random gossip, and she felt really better but was too tired to socialize with a lot of people. So they walked down the street a couple of blocks to a little shop where they bought salad bowls and iced tea “to balance things out” according to Raul about how much coffee she’s had the past week. 

They ordered to go and walked back to the HQ that looked like a very fancy business building, but instead of going back to her office, they headed to Raul’s instead. There they sat down on his couch since it was bigger as they casually had lunch, and right after, he convinced Y/N to get comfortable on the couch as he relaxed right next to her. Y/N curled into a little ball on the further corner of the couch, but he was quick to tut his tongue at her. 

“Here, sweetheart, you can lay your head on my lap and stretch your legs on the couch, yeah? And you can grab that little fluffy blanket if you want” He was quick to offer and Y/N sighed.

“Are you sure?” she asked eyeing him suspiciously “I don’t want to bother you” he chuckled softly and nodded

“Of course, we still have 50 minutes of lunch break, nap a bit, baby, come here” Raul said in such a gentle tone, almost cooing at her and how could she possibly say no to that?

She removed her boots before laying her head on his lap and pulling her legs to stretch across the rest of the couch, while she got comfy, she felt the gentle weight of the thick fluffy blanket being laid on top of her. Y/N sighed in relief as she slowly closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully relax, and feeling the soft caress of Raul’s fingers gently combing through her hair was only making it easier to fall asleep. And so she did. 

She dreamed of something random, she was stuck in a boat and it didn’t really make much sense, but it was better than the sleepless nights or the scary things her mind came up with. So waking up was not the best sensation, but Raul managed to make the experience less unpleasant. He was very softly coaxing her to wake up, by gently shaking her shoulder and caressing her cheek, slowly calling her name. Y/N could get used to it. 

Raul truly didn’t want to do it, he, himself, didn’t want to get up. He ended up falling asleep a few minutes in, but the timer on his phone vibrating on his hand woke him when he promised he’d wake her up. He almost didn’t have the heart to do it. Y/N looked so peaceful, the frown that’s been on her brows for the whole week was finally gone, but he knew if he didn’t wake her, she’d spend her day blaming herself and wouldn’t be able to sleep properly at night. So he cleared his throat and started calling her gently not to startle her.

Y/N started coming slowly back to her senses, slowly sitting up from Raul’s lap, rubbing at her eyes and checking her phone quickly for important notifications. A low chuckle brought her attention away from her phone and to her best friend beside her, to which she just truly looked at, being able to notice the throw pillow creases on his cheek, the soft curls of his hair a bit messier than usual.

“Hi” he mumbled softly. 

Y/N smiled at him before mumbling a “hi” in response. 

“Sleep well?” Raul asked as he stretched his arms above his head and she nodded “yeah? I ended up joining you in your nap”

“Don’t blame you, this is a really nice couch”

“Right? Unfortunately this was the first time I took full advantage of it” he chuckled as he got up from the couch, moving to turn on his computer.

Y/N just chuckled before nearly folding his blanket back in its place “well thank you for everything, you truly are a great friend, but I should probably leave and stop bothering you”

“You never bother me, and I know, I’m the best friend anyone could ever wish for” he said sitting on his chair as she leaned down to put her shoes back on. 

She just rolled her eyes at him, grabbing her stuff before getting up “there you go, ruining a perfectly sweet moment”

Raul laughed “that’s my biggest ability, doll, thought you knew that already”

“Should’ve guessed it” Y/N said as she opened his door “see you later, thanks again”

Raul just winked at her “anytime” before she closed his door and moved to her office shaking her head, but unable to hold back the smile from blossoming on her lips. 

Maybe Peter was wrong and just messing things up, how could he not notice the way Raul affected her? But saw the way he was different with her? It made no sense. And there was no time to go into the rabbit hole, she had better things to do, like spend countless hours uselessly trying to crack a code. 

                                                  -*-

In the middle of Y/N’s afternoon shift, she was able to spot Geonoff himself on one of the surveillance cameras she’s been watching incessantly for the past weeks. She basically tripped on her on shoes as she scrambled up to her computer to register the appearance, quickly sending it to her boss. They finally were sure where he was and maybe that was enough to set up a plan or something to get him. 

Geonoff Reyes was one of the most wanted man right now by intelligences from multiple countries. The man himself had a long list of crimes, that if there was an opportunity would be enough to sentence him for thousands of years. Most of Geonoff’s crimes were related to the mafia, he was one of the biggest and most dangerous bosses there was. He started fairly young, around 15 years old, but that was the extent of information everyone had on his childhood. Some liked to guess it was what kind of household he was raised to blame the way he had become what he became. 

He’s been chased for years now, and that’s why Y/N was quick to let her boss, Mrs. Benson, know she found him, compiling all the information she was able to gather this past week in files. So she did what she could and it took her around an hour to have everything printed and organized in a folder, letting Janet she was coming and basically running to the elevator to get to her office. 

The heavy metal doors opened on the waiting room outside of  her office, being met with Luca, Janet’s personal assistant, who winked at her and pointed at the door. Y/N smiled at him and knocked on the dark wooden doors, opening it silently as she heard people talking inside. Her office was decorated very minimalistic and was usually a very pristine place, but today, there were papers everywhere as Janet, Helen (Janet’s right hand), Dimitri (head of security department) and Raul Mendes stood there apparently discussing the same case. 

“Thank God you’re here, darling, please come out this madness to an end” Janet said with a gentle smile as she pointed towards the mess in her table.

Helen chuckled as Dimitri was quick to push their papers to a corner on the table. 

“Thank you” Y/N mumbled as she placed her folder down.

Raul silently move to stand right next to her, a careful hand laying on the small of her back in a comforting touch as she looked up at Janet to check if she could start. With a nod from the boss, she started pulling all the evidence she could. All the pictures, the surveillance images, the documents Seth was able to bring back and information he was able to remember as well.

With everything laid out on the table and presented to all of them, Janet ended up telling what she’d been discussing with Helen for the past two days. They both figured the best thing to do at the moment, since they didn’t have enough evidence to make an arrest for this crime and maybe this was a great opportunity to catch another people involved, not only Geonoff. The plan was basically getting new identities and keep a close eye on all of his activities, track down his moves and if possible get even more evidence. 

Raul was called because he was the best for this kind of jobs and would be a great leader to the team, Y/N was offered to join the team as well, being his partner and leading the strategic part of the plan. They were also told to pick other agents that they knew would be great for this specific operation, Janet only asking to keep it at a maximum of 5 people including them, the less people knowing, the better.

Of course both agreed and were also instructed to inform Peter so he could separate the gadgets necessary, and obviously intensify their physical training. Despite this being mostly and observant kind of mission, Geonoff was unpredictable and highly dangerous, so being well prepared and extra careful wouldn’t be a bad idea. They were both dismissed for the day and the early shift next morning, so they could rest and plan it as best as they could.

So Y/N was quick to bid her goodbyes as she placed everything neatly back on the folder and moved out of the room. As soon as she pressed the button to call the elevator, she heard the office door opening and closing again, rushed steps moving closer to her. She didn’t even need to look to know Raul was the one approaching her since his scent clouded every room he ever stepped into, she only shook her head and looked up at her right as he stood right beside her. He smirked at her with a little wink. 

“My house or yours, doll?” he asked as they climbed into the elevator. 

“Tonight?” she eyed him suspiciously as she pressed the button to her floor to grab her stuff and he leaned in to press the one to Peter’s. Y/N glanced at him and noticed he had all of his personal belongings with him. 

“Of course, I’ll even order from that Thai place you like”

Y/N giggled shaking her head “of course you will, am I supposed to spend the night?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, I’ll invite Peter too” he said with a smile.

Y/N folded her arms across her chest “I thought we were supposed to rest?”

“Oh but we will, I’ll make sure you’ll fall sleep at reasonable hours, eat properly and all that stuff, of course we’re gonna take a look at work, but just a little” he said with a knowing look.

“Fine, daddy” she added with annoyance, rolling her eyes, Raul just laughed and shook his head.

“You can’t just say stuff like that, sweetheart”

“What? Does it do something for you?” She asked looking up at him and he just shrugged as the doors opened at her floor.

“There’s only one way to find out, doll” he added with a smirk, a teasing tone evident on his voice as he leaned the weight of his body on the elevator doors to hold it for her, shoulders crossed over his broad chest, biceps flexing against the material of his shirt. 

Y/N rolled her eyes stepping out of the elevator, ignoring the heat creeping up her face and the stupid flutter on her lower stomach, turning to face him as she said “see you later, Mendes”

“See you, and oh, don’t forget your gym attire, we’re going running at 5:30 sharp tomorrow, bye bye now” he blew her a kiss as he stepped inside and the doors closed before she could add anything. 

He was definitely trying to kill her in all the ways possible, she just didn’t know which way would be the fatal blow. 

                                                    -*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

@mariamuses

[andyet-here-we-are]

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 3 (aka Nurse Geralt AU)

(Check the pinned post for the first two chapters please~)

The next day flows by in a blur for Geralt. He wakes up, takes a shower, prepares a quick but nutritious breakfast for Ciri, and makes oatmeal for himself.

On his way to the hospital, he thinks about Jaskier and wonders if he should call him now. He almost does that, but then he decides against it because he knows that Jaskier is busy having his fourth dream right now probably. It's too early to call him as much as he wants to do so. 

His mind wanders on how cute Jaskier sounds when he is sleepy—when he has just woken up.

Cute, but also usually a bit grumpy even though he denies it with every inch of his being.

***

"That shouldn't be legal," is what Geralt thinks when he steps into the hospital room, unable to take his eyes off Jaskier's sleeping figure. "I can't believe I'm supposed to do that. God, have some mercy on me. I love my job, I really do, but it sucks big time sometimes. Why should I suffer this way?"

A moment later, he is well aware of how dramatic he is being, and how hard he frowns, making a source face. It's not like him to act like this at all.

Damn.

"That dramatic son of a flower must be rubbing off on me," annoyed at himself, he mumbles before he coughs as if that alone is enough to wake the musician up. 

"Good morning," he tries when Jaskier doesn't wake up and slightly turns to the other side of his bed instead.

"Mr. Pankratz, it's your medicine time."

Jaskier slightly opens his eyes just to look at him this time, and the first thing he mumbles is: "What happened to your ears?" before closing his eyes again. 

"What are you talking about?" The nurse questions, checking his ears with his free hand that isn't holding the medicine tray, wondering what he meant by that.

"Are you still asleep?"

"Yes... No. Maybe?" Jaskier mumbles again, half asleep as he rubs his eyes, trying to make sleepiness go away.

"You will have to pick one of them."

The musician opens his eyes after a while and smiles at Geralt.

"Morning. God, what a sight to wake up to."

Geralt must be used at this by now. Because whenever Geralt has to wake him up, no matter how much Jaskier complains at first most of the time, he always utters the same words eventually.

"What a sight to wake up to."

Yet, every time he does that, Geralt's heart flutters in his chest.

"You didn't sound too happy with my ears, though. What was that about?"

"Ah, about that. I had a dream that— promise you won't laugh?"

"Can't do."

"Anyway," Jaskier yawns and explains: "I had a dream that you were an... elf."

"I was a— what?" Geralt laughs.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh!" The musician stares at him like he is ready to kill him. 

"I never said that," Geralt forces himself to stop laughing. "Well, that explains everything."

"Shh, stop interrupting me. It's mean."

"Sorry, I'm all ears. Not elf ears, though, sorry to disappoint you."

"Don't sweat it. Bad guys were trying to steal Mrs. Ansley's—who was a fairy, speaking of which—cookie recipe, which was also the key of a parallel universe, somehow. You were trying to protect the recipe, then puff. Some gingerbread men came out of nowhere to help you, but you tried to... eat them? Well, not just tried actually. You managed to eat their leader. Therefore they decided to join the dark side. Can't blame you, though. They looked pretty yummy. I was about to hop on my unicorn for help when you woke me up. A unicorn wearing a pasta costume. Pink pasta costume. Yeah, yeah, I know, that makes no sense, is there even a pink pasta costume?" He asks sleepily, raising an eyebrow. "Also, I had a magical lute, I think."

"You think that your whole dream makes sense, but just the pink pasta costume doesn't?"

"I've never seen a pink pasta costume, so..."

"Oh, sorry, right. I forgot you have seen everything else but that. The elf version of me, alive gingerbreads and all. My bad."

He chuckles at that lightly.

"Still more possible than a pink pasta costume."

"The most ridiculous dream you had this week might be this one so far."

Jaskier seemed to have taken it upon himself to tell Geralt about his dreams. This was the eighth dream he talked about this week, and it wasn't even Friday yet.

"It was like," he opens his arms wide as if he is presenting the name of his new song to the whole world, " 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland' I blame the medicines. And you," he points at the nurse. "I also blame you. For looking like... " he then gestures at everything, "this."

"You blame me?" The other man snorts, amused. "If anything, you should blame yourself for having the wrong dream. Have you ever looked at yourself? You would make a good elf, not me. You are as bea— I mean, anyway, medicine time."

"I am what now? Wait, wait, wait, were you about to call me beautiful?"

"I was about to call you bearable, but then I thought that would be mean."

"I think you were about to call me beautiful, but then you thought 'That wouldn't be professional, you are his nurse,' or something along these lines. Also, that's not even how you start when you're about to say 'bearable' they are not even pronounced the— "

"That's not what happened."

"Nahh, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what happened, but eh, whatever helps you sleep at night, love."

"You're probably thinking you're still in 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland', go back to sleep, you're delusional."

"I am so not! And that would be your problem even if I was. Wanna check my fever?" He says, giving the nurse a once-over, "I feel hot, suddenly."

"Well, that explains why you're delusional, doesn't it?" Geralt teases. "Take your medicine and you will be just fine."

Jaskier sighs and does as he is told.

"Geralt," Jaskier says before Geralt is about to leave, a grin on his face "I think you are 'bearable', too. "

***

Geralt means to call Jaskier.

He really does.

Yet, whenever he is about to call him, something comes up, and eventually, he just accepts that he is going to have to wait for his shift to be over. 

For some reason, he doesn't want to call him and get interrupted after a minute.

And he doesn't want to send him a text, because he prefers hearing his angelic voice instead.

So, yeah. He is kind of stuck there for now.

***

Geralt finds Ciri laughing at her own joke as she watches The Office when he gets home, and this reminds him of Jaskier since that's something they both have in common. Once again, he finds himself thinking about the musician.

***

“Shit, it hurts,” Jaskier says, holding his chest.

“Maybe it’s the universe’s way to tell you to stop laughing at your own jokes.”

“Oh shut up, the universe can kiss my ass.”

“Seems like it prefers to kick your ass instead.”

That draws an annoyed laugh out of him, which makes him hiss in pain.

“It wouldn’t send me here if it was trying to kick my ass, Mr. Should Have Been A Model But Became A Nurse For Some Reason.”

“I can't believe you still keep using that silly nickname unironically. Don’t you think that it is a bit long?”

“You may be right. Hmm, I’ll just call you ‘Mr. Handsome Nurse,’ from now on.”

“Please don’t. No.”

“How about just ‘Handsome’ ?”

“Still no.”

“Why not? It’s just a fact. You wouldn’t get mad at someone if they would point at a yellow wall and call it a ‘yellow wall’ would you?”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“I see no differences.”

“Then you better get your eyes checked.” 

“Speaking of which—” Jaskier reaches for his scratch book standing on the bedside table “can I borrow your eyes for a second?”

Geralt frowns, wondering what the musician is up to this time.

Jaskier opens his scratch book and stares in his eyes intently for a while and as he scribbles something. "Thanks," he says, "I just needed an accurate model of the stars."

"You know," the nurse shakes his head and answers smoothly: "you could just ask for a mirror."

Geralt can't help but smirk at his open-mouthed speechlessness. 

***

He hears a familiar voice singing, and for a moment he is sure that he has finally gone insane. 

Drying his hands on a washcloth, Geralt makes his way to the source of the voice, thinking "That must how Jerry feels when he follows the smell of a piece of cheese Tom tries to fool him with."

Jaskier's voice is irresistible to him, just like how cheese is irresistible to Jerry.

Absolutely irresistible, and hard to miss.

He could distinguish Jaskier's voice among all the rest if he heard it in a room filled with millions of men singing a song together.

This voice is coming from their living room. To be more specific, from Ciri's laptop—which she was supposed to use for searching her homework topic, but that can wait for now—

"Or I shall die," he hears Jaskier singing oh so sincerely and dramatically "or I shall die!"

"Dad! Please don't be mad, I swear to God I was going to start doing my homework, but—"

The first thing he does when he sits on the couch next to his daughter is grabbing the laptop and rewinding the video to the start. He then checks if the volume is at maximum.

"Shhh," he gestures, all of his attention is on the video he is watching.

He doesn't even realize that he takes a deep breath as soon as he sees the musician's face appear in front of him on the screen before Jaskier even starts singing.

He is as beautiful as ever in his ridiculous mint green shirt that he left the first four buttons undone.

It has cactus patterns on it.

Geralt can't help but wonder if Jaskier wearing this shirt is actually some kind of a secret message to him and him only.

Didn't he say that Geralt was just like a cactus?

"...prickly on the outside sometimes, but soft on the inside? A cactus in the desert.”

His words. Not Geralt's.

What does that even mean then? Something like "I wanna wear you on me like a shirt?"

Okay, he should probably stop because he is reading too much into this and—

"Anyway, so, this song goes to the cruel man who made me want to buy this shirt because it reminded me of him. You know who you are,"

Geralt's breath hitches.

He is not reading too much into this.

If anything, it's vice versa, because Jaskier dedicated a song to him.

Jaskier is thinking about him, too.

Thinking about him too much that he has decided he should dedicate a song to him.

The scene splits into five and one of the boxes on the screen shows Jaskier playing the piano, while in the other he plays the lute occasionally, violin in another one, and accordion in the other one. And in the other, he sings.

Good God. Is there anything this man cannot do?—Besides picking names for babies maybe, since picking names is definitely isn't his strong suit.—

"I tell myself what's done is done

I tell myself don't be a fool

Play the field have a lot of fun

It's easy when you play it cool"

"Does this mean he gave up on me because he got fed up with waiting for my call?" he thinks. But then again, why would he sing a song for him if he gave up?

While watching the video, Geralt is well aware of the fact that he will watch this video again and again and will take special care of each Jaskier— making sure not to miss even the tiniest of the mimic and gesture he does.

"I tell myself don't be a chump

Who cares, let him stay away

That's when the phone rings and I jump

And as I grab the phone I pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him or I shall die

Or I shall die"

He was right, this isn't a song that screams: "I'm giving up." Thank God it isn't. Jaskier puts his hand on his chest as he sings, and Ciri sighs next to Geralt, resting her head on his shoulder as she watches the video with him. 

"Oh hello, hello my dear God

It must be him but it's not him

And then I die

That's when I die"

That dramatic son of a flower actually flings himself into an armchair.

"After a while, I'm myself again

I take the pieces off the floor

Put my heart on the shelf again

You'll never hurt me anymore"

While he sings the "put my heart on the shelf again" he puts a heart sculpture on his bookshelf with a serious look and frown on his face. He might have got this heart sculpture just for this video for all Geralt knows.

"I'm not a puppet on a string,"

At this point, Geralt wouldn't be surprised to see actual strings attached to the musician's body just so he could cut the strings. He really wouldn’t be surprised, at all.

Because Jaskier is that extra most of the time.

And Geralt loves that about him.

"I'll find somebody else someday

That's when the phone rings, and once again

I start to pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him, it must be him

or I shall die, or I shall die"

The musician's voice goes up effortlessly into an unreachable octave as he sings the last part, and it's impossible not to be impressed. 

But then again, the man puts his heart into everything he does, therefore even doing something like folding a simple frog origami seems impressive when he is the one who's doing it, let alone singing as perfectly as this.

He then slowly walks towards the camera as the other boxes disappear and that one takes over the screen.

"Seriously though," he makes an aggressive 'call me' gesture, and the scene fades to black after that.

"Whoever keeps Jaskier waiting must be crazy," Ciri comments and gave a snort of disapproval and frustration. "He must care about this idiot of a guy a lot if he sings for him like this. What a jabroni. It would take him only a minute to call him."

"Ciri!"

"What? I'm right."

"That's not a nice thing to say," Geralt warns as he hands the laptop back to his daughter.

"I'm surprised that you watched the full thing, by the way. Actually, you don't seem too annoyed with me watching his videos nowadays, and you seemed quite interested in this one."

"I just love Vikki Carr," Geralt says. He has seen the title of the video, after all, so he knew this was a cover of her song. "I've wondered how he sang this song."

"Name five Vikki Carr songs then."

Geralt doesn't know five Vikki Carr songs— he can't even name two, let alone five.

"Okay, I think that's enough fun for you today," the nurse pretends not to have heard his daughter. "Do your homework while I go out to get some milk."

"We have milk at home."

"No, we don't."

"I put it in the fridge myself just this morning, so yeah, we do."

"We're out of these cookies you love, though."

"I thought you said they consumed way too much sugar so we were going to come up with a healthy and as I've read from your invisible subtitles, also probably boring recipe we can make together this weekend?"

"I— God, you ask a lot of questions today." Geralt whispers tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting Ciri's "boring recipe" comment slide.

Fuck him for not saying "I'm gonna go get some groceries," instead.

"I just asked one question, but okay. So? You changed your mind?"

"Yeah, I changed my mind, just for one more week, you can have it."

"Really?! Thanks!"

"Anything you want, pumpkin. Alright, I'm off!"

Geralt ruffles her hair before he grabs his wallet, keys, and most importantly, his phone.

Just before he closes the door, he can hear Jaskier's voice coming from the living room once again.

He cannot blame Ciri at all.

***

"If this is another spam call and not the important call I've been waiting for I swear on all my lute strings that I'll crush that damn phone on the ground and dance upon its bloody ruins! Actually, no, wait, that would mean the possibility of missing the call I've been waiting for, but you got my point."

As soon as Jaskier answers his call and starts talking, he feels like all the tiredness of the day disappears. Jaskier's voice manages to do that even when he is simply busy telling him off, having no idea who he is talking to. 

He can see that Ciri was right. He is an idiot for waiting for the right time.

"I'm seriously so sick of—"

Geralt finally cuts him off by saying: "Wow, I wouldn't wanna be a scammer or something right now, you aggressive Dandelion."

"Wait a second, this voice— Geralt?! Is that really you? Oh my God, you finally ca— I mean—"

Jaskier coughs as if he tries not to sound too excited, "Heey, the best nurse in the existence," Geralt can almost see his flirty frowning, yes, he manages to make even frowning look flirty for crying out loud, "How's it hanging?" he asks, his voice sounds deep, lazy, and dare he say, sensual.

"I should be asking you the same question. Are you still praying by the phone?"

"Someone does stalk me on social media, I see."

"And someone sings a song and makes a pretty impressive video clip for me, I see. My daughter was watching it, and that's how I found out about it. Just for your information."

"So you're not the one who stalks me online. It's Ciri," Jaskier says, and the fact that he remembers Ciri's name warms up Geralt's heart if he's being honest. "Sweet. Cool. Cool. I'm not hurt by that at all."

"Well..."

"Would you die if you let me be happy for just a moment? Not that I'm not happy to know that your daughter still watches my videos, but it would be nice to hear that you were the one who checked my account willingly."

"I'm sure I would see your video today anyway. Maybe it wouldn't be that soon, I admit, but I would see it."

"Is that so?"

"It is so."

Silence.

But it isn't an uncomfortable one.

"Did you really find it impressive?" Jaskier asks, his voice is full of hope and happiness.

"Well—" 

"Nah, I know it's impressive, forget that I asked," he lets out a long sigh, "If I knew making a video clip for you would make you call me right away, I would do that earlier. Were you playing 'hard to get' or something? You know... I find it kinda cruel to make someone who just got out of the hospital keep waiting on the phone for so long. For your information, that 'kinda' is kinda unnecessary here maybe. I call it 'the polite kinda'. Or 'the unnecessary kinda'. " 

The next moment, Jaskier's playful tone leaves its place to a caring, worried one as he keeps talking: "If something is going wrong with your life, I take it back though. Ignore everything I said in that case. Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"Ah, about that— Don't worry, everything is alright," Geralt replies, "I was thinking about calling you today, but I couldn't quite find the time. I know that's not an excuse, and I know I could call you earlier, but I didn't want to call you only to say 'I have to hang up,' a minute later."

"I’m happy to hear that nothing is wrong. And well, even that would be better than leaving me hanging. Or a simple 'Hey, the best patient ever' text would do. You took so long that I would be lying if I said I didn't think about getting involved in another accident."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"I would get into millions of accidents just to see you, Geralt. Provided that I could have you as my nurse every time, of course. What's the point otherwise? I'm not a masochist."

"Such a flatterer you are, Mr. Pan—"

"I'm not trying to flatter you. Cross my heart and hope do die, I'm just scattering the facts around like they are glitters. Or cake sprinkles."

"God forbid! Accidents, death... Aren't we gonna talk about nice things at all?"

"I've been waiting for you to call me forever. I have every right to be bitter about it."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise. How about I start making up to you, starting now?" 

"Sounds like you have something in your mind, Mr. Handsome Nurse." 

"I do, indeed. Have you had dinner yet?" 

"Does strawberry yogurt count as dinner?"

"I highly doubt it. You were complaining about hospital food, and yet that's what you choose to have for dinner?"

"I've never said I count yogurt as quality dinner, but it's still better than the things you dare to serve people as 'food', I should admit, I thought you already came to terms with—"

"Maybe you should come over so I can show you how a proper, nice dinner looks like. I'm not half bad at cooking."

Jaskier is silent on the other end of the line.

"Are you still there?" Geralt asks finally, "I'm sorry if this was too forward of me or too soon, I just thought it could be nice. You could meet Ciri too, that way." 

"No! Yeah! I mean—" if Geralt didn't imagine it, Jaskier sighs and murmurs an angry 'get it together you dumbass,' to himself before he continues talking. "Yes, I'm still here. No, this wasn't too forward of you. I was just taken aback a little bit, sorry. I mean, not every day a handsome nurse who I've been waiting for his call for a decade calls and invites me over for dinner. I'd love that, Geralt."

"I'll send you the address, then." Geralt checks his watch, it's nearly 6 p.m. "Is eight okay for you?"

"Sure, that should be fine. Hey, Ciri still doesn't know, right?"

"I don't think I need to answer that."

"Huh? Why is that?"

"Don't you think she would just grab my phone and call you herself if she knew? Or reaching out to you on every social media possible? Shouting from the rooftops, even?"

"She really likes me that much?"

"She just called me, I quote, an 'idiot', 'crazy', and 'jabroni' after watching your video, so..."

"She did what?!"

"I mean, not directly at me since she doesn't know I'm the 'him' in the 'it must be him', but still." 

"Seems to me like you're in big trouble here."

"Don't even remind me about it."

"I'd be lying if I said that doesn't put some pressure on me though. I mean... What if she doesn't like me?"

"Wha— Ciri already adores you. She adores you so much that it's annoying sometimes."

"It's impossible not to like you," is on the tip of his langue.

"They say never meet your heroes. What if when she actually meets me, she goes 'Meh, that's it?' What if I disappoint her somehow?"

"Worrying about earth getting invaded by the aliens in pink pasta costumes and tutus would much more sense compared to this. Believe me."

Jaskier laughs at that, but Geralt can still sense that he is not completely convinced.

"If you say so."

"I know so, Jaskier. I know so."

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

jacqueline wilson’s ‘love lessons’

tw: abuse, pedophilia, characters making Bad Decisions, long unnecessary spiel about my childhood like I’m running a recipe blog

It’s funny how loads of the authors who helped shaped me into the vaguely humanoid being I am today have names beginning with the letter ‘J’; Judy Blume, Jeff Kinney, John Green, J.K. Rowling (yikes, I know) … and Jacqueline Wilson.

I’ve never owned a Jacqueline Wilson book of my own; they were always borrowed from a friend, or from a friend of a friend, or from a friend of a cousin- you get the gist. Her books, for me, come with an entire aesthetic: something reminiscent of yard sales, and reading under the covers with a flashlight, and being lulled into a false sense of security by the deceptively innocent Nick Sharratt illustration on the cover until someone’s best friend gets mowed over.

So I knew what I was getting into when I picked up Love Lessons. I knew this was going to be Fucked Up; and boy, was I right.

(Here’s the part where I warn you about spoilers.)

From an abusive dad to creepy child predator teachers to slut-shaming and victim blaming, this book has it all.

The main character is Prudence ‘Prue’ King, who is homeschooled at the beginning of the book, along with her sister, Grace. Their parents remain rooted in the early twentieth century, and are very strict about- well, everything. No TV, no computers, not a single mobile phone in the house; their clothing worse than the orphans’ from Annie; and their father remains distinctly distrustful of modern institutions like the school and the hospital; and so on, and so forth.

Daddy King suffers a stroke, and has to be taken to the hospital. Meanwhile, Mrs. King (a floppy, spineless woman who lives in fear and awe of her, frankly horrid, husband) sends the girls to school, behind the then invalid Mr. King’s back. Cue Prue and Grace being the freakshows of the school, with their strange clothing and overbearing mother.

Grace manages to make friends, but Prue remains alone. The kids are dicks, the teachers are dicks… well, all of them but one. And that’s the art teacher, Mr. Raxberry (I just couldn’t get over that name; it seems like something you’d name a mythical plant from Pixie Hollow or some shit. I’m assuming it isn’t an actual name, since the spelling & grammar check on my computer doesn’t seem to recognize it), or Rax, as he’s called.

Oh, yeah; Prudence’s favorite subject in school is art, and she’s a whiz at it. This is relevant, because reasons.

And here’s where stuff gets murky. Prue develops a crush on Rax- which is perfectly normal. I’m definitely no stranger to it; I’ve had crushes on my teachers, my mum admitted she used to think one of her professors was cute. And yeah, as I grew older, I grew out of those crushes and now have a markedly more refined taste in men (unless he’s 5’ 7’’, born in ’97 and named Bang Chan, I don’t want him); and my mum married my dad, so I’m assuming she did, too. Admittedly, now that my dad teaches at a university, it’s icky to think that there might be students who have crushes on him- but I digress.

My point is, loads of us have liked our teachers. But I doubt the majority of us have acted on it.

And Prue actively showing her interest in Rax isn’t the worst part. That’s a spot reserved for Rax reciprocating her feelings.

Guess Ezra Fitz and Ms. Grundy (yes, I watched Riverdale; please don’t cancel me) have a new addition to the Creep Club.

The age of consent in the UK is 16, if I’m not mistaken. Prue is 14. She’s just barely become a teenager, and she’s being preyed upon.

Because that is what Rax is. He’s a predator; he preys upon this vulnerable girl who’s never been in a relationship before- hell, she’s never even had friends- her father’s abusive, so she obviously doesn’t have the best experience when it comes to men- she’s unpopular at school, with the students and staff alike- and he lures her in. I don’t care how bloody nice he is to Sarah, or what a good dad he is (well, he’s really not, seeing as he cheated on the mother of his children WITH A BLOODY FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD)- the guy’s a fucking pedophile.

I was staunchly stuck at a yellow light with him; like, sure, maybe Prue thinks he’s flirting with her- maybe she’s looking at this all wrong, she doesn’t know how relationships work- see, he drew a picture of Sarah, too, in his secret notebook- Prue’s just reading into this too much- up until he says he loves her.

Dude. Humbert fucking Humbert. She’s fourteen, for Christ’s sake, and you’re married. You have two children. She’s a child. She’s probably closer to your son’s age than she is to yours.

(This is the part where I bury my head in my pillow. And scream. Extensively, and with passion.)

The book does make some genuinely good commentary on slut-shaming and victim blaming and abusive parenting. And on one hand, I can see why so many people find issue with the romanticization of the when I kissed the teacher trope- but I can defend it, too.

The book is in Prue’s perspective. She thinks she’s in love with Rax, so obviously, she’s not going to throw in some valuable moral at the end- because she’s too young and inexperienced to think otherwise. And sadly, there are loads of instances of child abuse that go unreported because the victims just don’t know better.

What I have issue with is how the school dealt with it, ultimately. Prudence, a child, has to deal with the consequences of the actions of a literal child predator. Sure, Rax ‘clears his name’ by cooking up some bullshit story about how it was only a crush and he didn’t encourage it, but you’d think other adults would know better and, oh, I dunno- dig deeper into it, instead of blaming it on a child?

“She says you told Mr. Raxberry you loved him and he held you in his arms and fondled you.”

Which Prudence denies, because, again, she doesn’t know better. She then goes on to say that they did nothing wrong. To which the adult speaking to her, in this case, the principal, Miss Wilmott, goes on to say:

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true… I feel that there are some aspects of your friendship that could be considered inappropriate.”

FYI, lady, he kissed her- multiple times (not that kissing her once makes him any more redeemable), and told her he loved her, and admitted to fantasizing about running away with her and leaving his family behind. Fun fact: do you know Prudence is underage?

You’d think that Miss Wilmott would maybe give this whole fiasco a favorable ending, but it turns out she listens to school gossip;

“I haven’t been at all happy with your attitude. You don’t seem to understand how to behave in school. I’ve heard tales of unsuitable underwear and then a silly romance with one of the boys in your class. I feel that in the space of a few short weeks you’ve made rather a bad name for yourself… I don’t know whether you intend to be deliberately insolent but you certainly come across as an unpleasantly opinionated and arrogant girl… I can’t help feeling that you’ll be much better off elsewhere. I shall try hard to engineer a suitable transfer to another school.”

And then she comes out with this gem:

“If you won’t leave, then I shall have to ensure that Mr. Raxberry finds another position.”

“No, you can’t do that! He’s a brilliant teacher.”

“You should have thought of that before you started acting in this ridiculous and precocious manner. If I were another kind of headteacher, I would have Mr. Raxberry instantly suspended. There could even be a court case. He would not only lose his job, he could find himself in very serious trouble. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

Girlboss, gaslight and gatekeep. The fucking trifecta.

Also, by ‘another kind of headteacher’, does she mean the kind of headteacher WHO DOESN’T LET CHILD PREDATORS ROAM FREELY WITHIN THEIR HALLS?

This bitch is out here blaming a child, a literal child, for the crimes of an adult man.

The only time Prue seems aware of the fact that Mr. Raxberry is actually a very shit person is her immediate thoughts that follow after she tells Miss Wilmott she’ll take the fall;

I so wanted to save darling Rax- and yet why hadn’t he wanted to save me? Had he told Miss Wilmott it was all my fault, that I’d got a ridiculous crush on him, that I’d made ludicrous advances to him? … I wanted to tell this horrible, patronizing woman how hungrily he’d kissed me, but I couldn’t do it. I loved him. I had to help him.

NO, SWEETHEART; YOU MOST DEFINITELY DO NOT.

And maybe I’m going overboard with all these excerpts, but here’s what Rax has to tell Prue, after school, following her expulsion:

“I let her think the worst of you, the best of me, just to save my skin. I said it was ridiculous talking about a love affair between us. I said you simply had a crush on me, and that I was just trying to be kind… You were brave enough to stand up to me and force me to acknowledge the truth… I love you… That’s why I had to take a risk and see you this one last time. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care… Every night when I close my eyes, I’ll think of us together in this car and how badly I wanted to drive off with you. I’ll imagine us walking hand in hand at the water’s edge… I wish I wasn’t such a coward.”

(I burrow into the pillow further. I’m trying to suffocate myself.)

And that’s where I think Wilson went wrong. Sure, Prudence getting expelled for something that was completely out of her hands is unfair, and horrible, but it’s real. That shit can happen.

What’s bad is showing Rax in a positive light after all that. If only Wilson had written Rax to not be the Romeo he thinks he is. Make him ignore Prudence, throw her under the bus in front of her face, instead of this star-crossed lovers bullshit it’s made out to be. Show your younger audience that Rax is not a good man. I’ve got a little over two weeks left for my twentieth; I can see why this is unacceptable. But I was a little younger than Prue when I watched Pretty Little Liars, and my only gripe with Aria dating Ezra was that Noel Kahn was so much cuter.

It shows when you scroll down the Goodreads reviews; you’ve got adults giving it one or two stars, and teenagers giving it four or five, with their biggest complaints being, “but Toby was cuter!!!”

Other non-pedophilia related complaints regarding the book include: Prudence being unlikable- which I didn’t really notice, considering she reacted to some people way better than I would’ve, even at 19 (which probably says a lot more about me than it does about Prue, but oh well). Still, Prudence obviously isn’t the most prudent of people- and again, she’s fourteen. Look me in eye and tell me you weren’t an arsehole at that age (unless you’re fourteen now, in which case, I assure you that you’ll look back on yourself someday and go ‘wtf was I thinking’). Bringing up Toby’s dyslexia in an argument was low, though.

There were people who thought the Kings’ almost-Amish lifestyle was exaggerated and unrealistic, but I assure you, it may very well be real. There are 8 billion people on the world- it’s fair to assume that several of them are complete weirdos.

Grace was a sweet character, and I adored her with every fiber of my being. As were her friends Iggy and Figgy. Honestly, I would’ve loved a book about Iggy, Figgy and Piggy’s (mis)adventures too.

[rookie-ramsey]

Eclipse, Chapter 3 (Ethan x MC)

Description: Five years after the birth of their unexpected twins, Ethan and Olivia are expecting their third child. Even if they planned the pregnancy this time around, they learn that not everything goes as planned.

Preview: “We know now that she’ll definitely need heart surgery. She has what’s called an atrioventricular septal defect. She’ll be okay for a couple of months, but then she’ll have symptoms of heart failure. The good news is that the surgery has a very high success rate,” Ethan explained.

Alan nodded softly. “Well, you know that whatever you need, I’m there. I’ll watch Zoey and Jonah anytime you need to be with the baby.”

Previous Chapter

At the end of the month, they left Boston for a trip to Alan’s house.

When Ethan pulled into the driveway, Zoey and Jonah clambered out of the backseat and rushed to the front door. Alan answered moments later and knelt down to hug his grandchildren.

“It’s about time you got here!”

They hugged him tightly. Jonah smiled widely. “What are you making for dinner?”

Alan chuckled. “I’m glad you asked. I’m making spaghetti and I need some taste testers for the sauce. I just don’t know who to ask.”

“We’ll do it!” Zoey volunteered.

“Sounds like I found the right people.” Alan ruffled their hair and stood up. The twins raced each other into the kitchen and Ethan and Olivia followed Alan inside.

“Something smells good,” Olivia noted.

Alan grinned. “It better! It was one of the first recipes Ethan learned how to make. His results back then weren’t nearly as good as they are now, but he learned fast.”

“Too bad that doesn’t apply to pancakes,” Olivia teased.

“Or dessert!” Jonah chimed in.

“He never did learn how to bake, did he?” Alan agreed,

“Nope. He always messes it up,” Zoey added.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “We’ve been here a minute and I’m already the topic of discussion?”

“Always.” Olivia squeezed his arm. A few minutes later, dinner was ready and everyone took a seat at the table.

“Jonah, Zoey, how’s kindergarten?” Alan addressed his grandkids.

Jonah smiled sheepishly, with the hints of pride in his eyes. “I got put in time-out today cause I woke someone up at naptime.”

Alan chuckled. “Has your daddy ever told you about his kindergarten time-outs? He had a few, if I remember correctly.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Alan confirmed. “One time he stole chocolate out of the teacher’s desk drawer. He even had an elaborate plan to get her to leave her desk.”

Olivia snickered, entertained. “That’s painfully adorable. How did he get caught?”

Ethan rolled his eyes, but his lips curled into an amused smile. “I wasted time trying to choose between the Hershey bar and the Snickers. When she turned around, I tried to get back to my seat but she caught me with a candy bar in each hand.”

“Such a shame. You could have gotten away with it.”

Ethan smirked. “Who says I didn’t? For all you know, I spent my time-out eating chocolate every time she turned her back to me. The plan wasn’t a complete failure.”

“Just when I thought the story couldn’t get cuter.” Olivia and the twins laughed out loud and resumed eating.

After dinner, they gathered in the living room. Alan gave the kids a photo album to look through, something they always wanted to do when they visited.

When they found the picture of Ethan as a child, his lips locked with the plush mouth of his teddy bear, Zoey giggled and held it up. “This one’s my favorite!”

Ethan cringed. “You remind me of that every time we’re here.”

Olivia grinned. “It’s a pretty fascinating picture. Little Ethan making out with a stuffed animal is pretty fascinating.”

“CPR.”

“Nuh uh, Daddy.” Zoey shook her head, tucking the picture back into the album. She and her twin continued flipping through the pages, amused with the pictures as if they didn’t look at the album every time they visited Alan’s house.

Jonah found Ethan’s basketball picture from middle school. “Daddy looks like a giant.”

Alan laughed. “He was the tallest kid in his class until his senior year of high school. Then he met someone taller than him and refused to learn the kid’s name.”

“How petty of him.” Olivia giggled. “I’m pretty sure these two are going to be skyscrapers, too.”

Once they’d looked through another album, Jonah and Zoey left the room to play in Ethan’s old bedroom, which now served as a room for them to stay in if they spent the night.

“We had another appointment yesterday to check on the baby,” Olivia announced.

“How did that go?” Alan asked curiously.

“We know now that she’ll definitely need heart surgery. She has what’s called an atrioventricular septal defect. She’ll be okay for a couple of months, but then she’ll have symptoms of heart failure. The good news is that the surgery has a very high success rate,” Ethan explained.

Alan nodded softly. “Well, you know that whatever you need, I’m there. I’ll watch Zoey and Jonah anytime you need to be with the baby.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

They stayed until the kids emerged from the bedroom, both visibly sleepy. Jonah tried to contain a yawn as he leaned against Ethan’s knee.

“Can we spend the night?”

Ethan shook his head and ruffled his son’s hair. “Not on a school night.”

“School is closed tomorrow!” Zoey tried.

“Nice try.”

Olivia stood up. “I think it’s time to start going home.”

The kids sighed but gave in and hugged Alan goodbye before they followed their parents to the car. Despite their insistence that they weren’t tired, they were both sound asleep before they’d made it out of Providence.

XXXXXX

Even though they spent most of their after-school time in the daycare for staff children, Zoey and Jonah knew the halls of Edenbrook just as well, if not better, than the employees.

When they  saw Bryce checking his schedule at the front desk, they rushed to the desk. “Uncle Bryce!”

Bryce grinned. “Hey, Double Trouble.”

Jonah pointed at the schedule on the wall. “Are you gonna cut anyone open today?”

“Two. I’m doing a kidney transplant. I cut the first guy open, take out his kidney, and then put it inside his brother.”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “Cool!”

Bryce laughed. “Sure is. What kind of trouble do you two have planned?”

Jonah glanced around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. “We’re gonna watch TV in the lounge. Don’t tell anybody.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Bryce assured them. Satisfied, the kids waved at him before they left, sneaking in the direction of the lounge.

They poked their heads inside to make sure nobody was inside. Then they dashed into the lounge and started perusing the available snack options. Once they’d picked out something to eat, they sat on the plush couch as if they belonged there.

They’d only been in the lounge a few minutes when the door opened and a confused-looking handful of interns stuck their heads in the room. One of them sighed and shook his head.

“Nope. This is the lounge.”

Curious, Jonah stopped clicking through the channels on the television.  “What are you looking for?”

“Uh… Dr. Ramsey’s office?”

“Which Dr. Ramsey?”

The intern’s eyes widened. “There’s more than one?”

Zoey hopped off the couch and grinned. “Yup! Our mommy and daddy. But Mommy usually goes by her old last name so people don’t get confused.”

“Uh… this folder says E. Ramsey.”

“That’s Daddy,” Jonah confirmed. He finished his cookie and pointed at the door. “We’ll show you.”

Looking simultaneously grateful and awkward to be accepting directions from five-year-olds, the intern looked back at the little group and nodded. “Thanks? We just transferred from another hospital, so we don’t know where anything is.”

“C’mon.”

Zoey and Jonah led the interns through the halls, knowing the way to the diagnostics office by heart. When they reached it, Zoey pushed the door open. “There!”

Ethan looked up from his charts and arched a brow. “What are you two doing, and why do you have interns following you?”

“We’re helping them!” Jonah explained.

“I mean, why aren’t you-” Ethan stopped, dropping the subject. The twins managed to escape daycare regularly enough that he knew better than to interrogate, so he motioned for the puzzled interns to step inside.

Curious, Zoey and Jonah lingered in the doorway to watch. When they heard a voice behind them, they turned around and smiled. “Naveen!”

Naveen grinned. “I think I need to put you two on the payroll.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Don’t encourage them.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they get where they’re supposed to be.”

“I presume you’ll be taking them on a detour.”

Naveen chuckled. “Would I do that?” With a wink, he ushered the kids out of the office. “I’ll tell you what. I think we need to go check out the new ice cream machine in the cafeteria.”

Tags, part 1

@princess-geek / @lapisreviewsstuff / @silverlitskies / @paulfwesley / @dr-brianna-casey-valentine / @junehiratas / @choicesstanblog / @trappedinfandoms / @justanotherrookie / @bellcat2010 / @desmaranj / @lion-ess24 / @nooruleman / @caseyvalentineramsey / @xee-na / @edith-eggs1 / @oofchoices / @schnitzelbutterfingers​ / @tefigranger​ / @jlynn12273​ / @laceandlula / @crazy-loca-blog / @somegdchoices / @briefdreamlanddream / @forthebrokenheartedthings​ / @lilyvalentine​ / @parkerattano​ / @drramseysownsme​ / @misswhit12​ / @drethanfreakingramsey​ / @juneiswriting​ / @macy-ray85​ / @swimmingauthordreamerbonk​ / @myusualnerdyself​ / @siaramsey​ / @takemyopenheart​ / @queencarb​

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 1

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Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated? 

Word count: 3.2K

Genre: Angst, Fluff, 

Warnings: Mentions of sex, alcohol, overall pretty tame. 

A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;) Also the first chapter sucks and is more of an introduction so pls give ch 2 a chance lmaoo, it’s juicy, i promise.

You were exhausted.  

Your second year of college had passed like a whirlwind and you didn’t even have the time to realise.

Deadline after deadline after deadline had passed and you finally handed in your last paper of the year.  

You sigh in relief. The pent up tension leaves ur body and the stress seems to fade more and more as the seconds pass. You stare blankly at your laptop screen. Still not quite realising how you managed to write ten thousand words of scientific research just 3 days before the deadline.

You feel two firm hands on your shoulders, massaging you as a way to show comfort “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.”  

The voice and sudden skinship startled you a little but as soon as you realise who it is, you relax in his touch.

You remove your Airpods and look up at your best friend, Soobin, who sat down next to you at your favourite secluded table in the school’s cafeteria. It’s where your friends could always find you if you had work to do.  

“I just might” you sigh throwing your head back. And suddenly a huge grin crept up your face. Which worked contagiously as Soobin instantly started to smile back at you. 

“I did it. I finished all of the work.” You say putting your hand on your forehead dramatically.  

Soobin chuckled nudging your shoulder. “I told you, you’d be fine. You always manage to pull through even though you procrastinate so much.” He says as he high-fives you.

You pout at his statement. Yes. It’s a serious problem. “I just-”

You stop your sentence midway as that god walks into the cafeteria. His confident stride to the soda machine dressed in simple athletic wear made your jaw drop slightly. He was sweaty, probably from basketball practice. His chestnut hair damp, cascading his forehead and prickling his eyes. He blinked a few times before blowing the hair out of his face with his pouty lips.  

You swallow harshly at the sight and Soobin follows your gaze. You hear him chuckle, right before he flicks your forehead.

“Maybe if you stopped drooling over my roommate, you would’ve been able to focus.”  

You send him a glare, kicking his knee under the table, making him yelp out in pain, which caught someone’s attention.

Yeonjun takes out his soda from the machine as his head snaps in your direction. He smiles and approaches your table. Your heart decided to do martial arts in your chest with every step he took towards your table.

You look away from his gaze quickly pretending to be busy with your laptop.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yeonjun said ‘bro-fiving’ Soobin.  

“Nothing much, just the usual abuse from miss thing here,” Soobin says sending you a look as he rubs his knee. 

“Abuse? I didn’t know you were into that.” Yeonjun says giving you a coy smile, and you nearly choked at his words, looking at him wide-eyed.

You try your best to keep your cool, but Yeonjun was leaning against your chair, inching dangerously close, looking over your shoulder.

“Watchu working on?” he asks cutting the tension.

Oh Yeonjun, always so friendly and interested. If only he knew the effect he had on you. Or the effect he had on at least half of the female and male population of your elite college.  

“N-nothing. I mean I just finished it. It’s the paper for Mr. Davis’s class. The last one, so summer can finally start.” You ramble, not sure why you’re telling him all of these details. It’s not like he cares. 

You take a mental note to shut up, stealing a quick glance from Soobin who was awkwardly shifting in his seat.

Yeonjun let out a chuckle, patting your back. “Good job, I knew you could do it. This paper will give you an advantage next year right?”  

You look up in confusion. “How’d you know?”

“Soobinnie here told me that this paper was the reason you bailed on the party two days ago. Such a shame, would’ve been nice to have you there you know…” Yeonjun says a little lost in thought absentmindedly moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.  

Was he? Flirting?  

“I have all the time in the world now, so if you want to see me so badly, just give me a call.” You say confidently crossing your arms. You were testing him, and he seemed amused by your sudden confidence.  

Soobin rolled his eyes at the two of you. Yeonjun is a notorious fuckboy. A star player of the basketball team, rich, handsome, charming but also his best friend and teammate. You were also his best friend that he had known since childhood, which means that the two of you were a recipe for disaster in his books.  

The two of you planned to go to the same college since your parents pushed you to do so, but also because you two are joined at the hip since birth. Oh and did you mention that Soobin was the one with the full basketball scholarship, while you had to rely on your actual brain to get one?

Ever since you started college and were introduced to Choi Yeonjun, you had a meaningless crush on him. But since time passed and you got close to Soobin’s friends and vice versa, your feelings towards him seemed to escalate and you could tell that Yeonjun was into you too. You just didn’t know in what way.

Soobin always tried his best to keep you two apart because he didn’t want you to get hurt. Soobin knew Yeonjun was just going to be in it for the sex and is not ready for a relationship in any way or form.  

But Soobin also knows that if you have set your mind to something, there’s absolutely no way that he can talk you out of it. You have always had a fascination for bad boys, wanting to fix them and then crying to Soobin about it when it didn’t work out. It might be the quality he hates about you the most.

But this time it was different. This time it was between two people that Soobin genuinely cared for. So he was against the two of you having any type of relationship other than friendship.

Soobin cleared his throat, diverting the attention back to him. “That sounds nice and all, but I think y/n will be going back home for summer. Right?”

You’re confused by Soobin’s sudden cock blocking and raise your eyebrow at him.

“No, actually. I’m not. Not this year. My parents are traveling through Europe so there’s nothing for me to go home to.” You say. Soobin knows about this. So why would he mention you going back home?

“Well. That’s great. Then we can finally hang out with the whole squad without any of us bailing because of school work.” Yeonjun says smiling.

“Anyways, I’ve got to go. I guess I’ll…see you around?” Yeonjun asks staring at you intently. You just nod in response giving him a smile, which he returned to you immediately. It was more of a smirk than a smile though and you could swear his eyes wandered to your chest, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

“See you back home bro” Yeonjun said patting the younger one on his shoulder before walking off.

As Yeonjun was out of sight, your head snaps back to Soobin, who was glaring at you.

“What was that about,” you say crossing your arms, fire spitting from your pupils.

“That’s so NOT happening” Soobin states taking a sip out of his water bottle while keeping eye contact.

“Excuse you?” you say lost for words.

Soobin just shrugs, he’s visibly annoyed and you know not to push his buttons right now but you decide to do so anyway.

“Listen, I know you’re practically my brother and all. But you’re not. So I don’t see why you need to act like you are, I like him Soobin. Let me explore my feelings for him a little.” You say in a hushed tone trying not to sound too bitchy, but Soobin just scoffs in response, rolling his eyes at you.

“It’s your feelings that I’m worried about y/n, cause he certainly doesn’t care. He just wants to fuck. If he actually liked you, he wouldn’t look at you like you’re a meal. He’d look at you with affection.”  

You’re taken aback by his statement and you’re not so sure if you should bite back at him. Instead, you let him explain some more as you wave your hand at him as a sign for him to continue.

“I care about both of you. I just don’t want this y/n, because when worse comes to worst I will have to choose, and then I will choose you and everything will go to shit. I am his captain, we have the same group of friends, we share multiple classes, hell, we share a whole apartment” Soobin sighs massaging his temples.

“Ok…Ok…Jesus” you give in.

“I promise; I won’t engage” you pout.  

“Good,” Soobin says. “Please for once just…listen to me. Trust me, he’s not the type of guy to want a relationship right now.”

“Ok.” You sigh. “But this means you and your girlfriend will be stuck with me all summer then.”

Soobin looks up, confused at how easy it was to talk you out of it. He smiles at you sweetly and his eyes disappear into crescent moons as he does so. “I can’t wait to get mani-pedi’s.” He laughs sarcastically clapping his massive hands together cutely while visibly relaxing in his seat.

Suddenly your heart gets all soft at the sight of the giant baby in front of you.  In a way he is right. He’s telling you all the things that you already knew. And the last thing you wanted was to hurt Soobin for some dumb crush you had on a college boy.  

“Soobin is just the captain cause he’s the tallest” Yeonjun argues.

You giggle at his childish statement. You were at the park off-campus with some of your friends. Soobin had his arm draped around his girlfriend Mia’s shoulder while she leaned into him. They were disgustingly adorable. And every time they displayed a little too much PDA all of your friends would throw snacks at them.

Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had also joined you on the picnic. You were sitting with your legs draped over Beomgyu’s so there would be enough space for everyone on the blanket you brought.  

All of you munched on different types of snacks. And you tried your hardest to keep your distance from Yeonjun without making it obvious.

“Soobin hyung is the captain because he’s not as full of himself as you are” Taehyun said, making everyone but Yeonjun laugh.

He gave Taehyun the glare of death and pouted afterward to show playfulness. “I get no respect in this household” Yeonjun sighs as he throws an M&M at Tae’s head, which he dodged just in time.

Your heart did a jump at the sight of his pout and as if he could sense it, Yeonjun made eye contact with you.

He smirked, looking away when you did.  

Mia looked at you, narrowing her eyes as she saw the way you two were stealing glances from each other like high school kids.  

Mia was one of your closest friends whom you had introduced to Soobin in the first year. They started dating not long after they met. And from time to time you still remind them of the fact that if it weren’t for you, they’d be sad and lonely.

Mia knew you like the back of her hand, just like Soobin did. So keeping a secret from either of them was basically impossible. The two of them tend to gang up on you a lot. Even though you know It’s out of love and concern, it’s still really fucking annoying sometimes. Especially when it comes to your love life.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you say getting up. Beomgyu reluctantly removed his arm from your leg and uses it as a supporting rod for you to get up.  

You smile and thank him, which made Yeonjun narrow his eyes at the two of you, which Mia also noticed.  

Soobin however was lost in deep conversation with Hueningkai about some Math problems he had.  

Huening was a freshman, just like Tae, but since they were on the basketball team as well, they were all pretty close. And they helped each other out whenever they could.

You admired their friendship and were happy to call them your friends as well.

“I’ll come with you,” Mia says untangling her man's arms from her waist as she tries to get up, earning a sad pout from Soobin in return. “Come back soon,” he said sighing.

“Don’t be disgusting” Yeonjun and you say at the exact same time. Earning chuckles from everyone.

You look at each other surprised and laugh like the two of you were in your own world.

This time, Soobin noticed, and you try your best to avoid his gaze.

“You two are just bitter cause you’re single” Taehyun stated throwing his head back in evil laughter.

“Well so are you, so are all of you except for them so what’s your point exactly” Yeonjun bites back giving Taehyun a beaming smile while stuffing his face with a handful of the chocolates.

“Ehm, shall we?” Mia nudged you and you nodded as the boys’ bickering became background noise while you walked off together.

“Why do chicks always go to the bathroom together” Hueningkai questioned with genuine curiosity.  

“So they can talk shit in private,” Beomgyu said wiggling his eyebrows.

As Mia and you walked further and further from your spot, Mia looks over her shoulder to determine if it’s a safe enough distance to start gossiping.

“Dude” she nudges you while speaking in a hushed tone.

“Why were you and Yeonjun literally eye-fucking each other in front of everyone.”  

Your eyes grow wide and you turn around facing her. “Eye-fucking” you repeat her, suppressing a chuckle while trying to be as nonchalant as possible.  

“I think you’re seeing things.” You say shrugging.

“Am I y/n?” she looks at you with a stern expression, and this time you’ve had about enough.

You sigh in frustration as you open the door to the public bathroom entrance.

“Look, Soobin already gave me the ‘Yeonjun is a fuckboy so stay away’ lecture, I really don’t need to hear it again.”  

“Soobin lectured you about not engaging with Yeonjun?” Mia says surprised.

You raise your eyebrows. “You didn’t know? I thought he told you everything.”  

Mia sighs. “If you like him, who’s Soobin to tell you what to do with those feelings?”  

Your jaw drops, in awe of the fact that she’s siding with you on this one. “But if he hurts you, I’ll break his ankles.” She says determined, with her psycho protective smile.  Ah, there it is.  

“Well. Soobin really gave me an ultimatum. He basically says that if things end badly, he would have to choose between us and that it’d ruin not only his friendship but the team’s teamwork and everything. I don’t want to have that on my conscience just because I’m lusting over Yeonjun.”

Mia nearly busted a lung laughing and you cocked your eyebrow at her in surprise. “What are you laughing about” you try to suppress a smile, amused by her sudden outburst.

“He. Is. So. Dramatic” she says still recovering from her laughing fit.

“He is?” you ask genuinely interested in her point of view.

“Yes, he is. Look I don’t want to be the one to push you into toxicity or anything but we know Yeonjun. He is sweet? And nice. And he has never given me an off vibe. I can tell he has eyes for you, the only problem is that a lot of girls have eyes for him too and that can become a problem. The issue is if YOU can handle that.” Mia fixes your hair while she speaks and you sigh.

She’s right. “But Soobin”

“Oh fuck Soobin, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just live a little. What’s the worst that could happen.”  

“Did you pee out the whole lake? That took forever.” Soobin states yanking Mia back into his lap.

“I missed you,” he says nuzzling his face in her neck.

“Ok, gross.” Beomgyu rolled his eyes.  

“There was a line” you lie walking over to Yeonjun’s side, sitting down between him and Hueningkai this time. This action earned a look from Soobin, who was basically cursing at you with his eyes, all while Mia smiled at you knowingly. It also earned a look from Yeonjun, he looked at you surprised but content, and he gave you a sweet smile, his facial expression softened immediately when you nudged him playfully as you sat down next to him.

The whole afternoon was spent laughing and bickering. Listening to the boys’ none sense and Taehyun making snacks disappear and appear with his never-ending magic tricks. All while the six of you were busting your brains trying to solve Hueningkai’s mathematical equations for his engineering class.  

Yeonjun inched closer to you from time to time. The both of you were in charge of the music that was blasting from your portable speaker. You compared your Spotify playlists and noticed how much you have in common with him music-wise. It was fun seeing Yeonjun becoming all passionate about his favourite artists, it certainly didn’t help the fact that you were trying to keep a distance from him. Cause his cute little mannerisms and the way he gets so engrossed in his storytelling made you fall for him even more. Face first to be exact.  

From time to time you would feel Yeonjun’s gaze linger on you. He’d ‘accidentally’ brush his arm against yours or he would touch your thigh, asking you to pass him another can of soda.

It was a lot, but you couldn’t say you hated it.

“It’s getting late” Taehyun says getting up. “We need to prepare for the party tonight”  

his statement earned hums, moans, and groans from everyone.  

“Whose party?” you asked.

“Johnny. That senior from the photography major” Yeonjun answered, looking at you with a hopeful expression. “You’re coming right?”  

You smiled at him, nodding your head. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Dude this is a disaster,” you say rummaging through your clothes while you were on Facetime with Mia. “I don’t have anything to wear”  

Mia rolled her eyes at you. “You trying to impress someone?” she said stuffing her face with seaweed chips.

You stare at her through the screen “Listen, you little shit. Just because you’re in a happy marriage doesn’t mean you get to be all sarcastic and judgy”  

She snorted “Marriage!? Oh please. You’re just trying to impress Yeonjun and that’s fine. Just wear something that covers the least amount of skin, he’ll like it.”  

“You’re a menace to society” you state, Mia shrugs at your choice of words and laughs. “But you’re right.” You give in grabbing a strappy lilac mini dress. “Then I guess this is contestant number one”

“Ooh, yes! Love that, wear that.” Mia enthusiastically exclaims giving you a thumbs up.

“Okay, that was a lot easier than I thought this was going to be, I’m gonna finish getting ready. You and Soobin are picking me up, right?” 

“Yes, we are. Be ready at 11.”  

“Alright, see you, bye”

“Bye.”

You throw your phone on your bed and hold the dress in front of your figure, looking at yourself in the mirror. You sigh, getting a rush of anxiety and butterflies in your stomach as you think of seeing Yeonjun again tonight. 

Let’s see where this goes. 

Chapter 2