voodoo-lady

[pollyna]

Slider is that kind of friend who takes Ice in the most strange fucking place in every city they're in, but those places always have two things in common: they're empty and far enough from the city that if he needs to decompress by shouting, nobody would notice. It's nice, makes Ice feel a little more settled in his skin, and leaves him that sense of being seen and loved without having to manage his father, his or the Navy's expectations.

[canyonmooncreations]

Simon Shares

Simon x reader, TF 141 x Reader

Summary: The team gathers at Simon’s house where his perfect girl hosts them. It’s a typical gathering, until it’s not (reader takes them all)

Authors note: I haven’t written a full piece in so long! I hope you don’t hate it 😭 just horny thoughts 😭

Warnings: reader is a needy slut, takes them all, p in v, spanking, overstimulation, and I think that’s it?

You and Simon have been together for quite a while. Engaged actually. That being said, you’ve meet his team several times and have grown to like them and they have grown to love you plenty. You’ve hosted them for cookouts, watching the ball games, and sometimes just for cards and beer.

When the boys are over, you’re always sitting on Simon’s lap or close enough for him to have a hand on your thigh or around your hip.

You’re comfortable around them. They don’t mind that you join them. Simon doesn’t mind the way their eyes rake over your body when you’re serving them food. He doesn’t mind the comments they make after you’ve walked away. To be truthful, he doesn’t mind the idea of sharing his pretty little thing with them.

Usually the night ends long after you’ve gone to bed. Waking up to Simon crawling into bed and wrapping you in his arms. Tonight was different

The boys were coming over for a cookout and cards, typical. When you were on your grocery run you decided to not only buy their beer but also some fruity little drinks for yourself. Simon didn’t mind when you put them in the cart, only replying with a hum. He knew this could end with trouble but wanted to see how it played out. He knew alcohol made you horny and needy. He knew bratty you got when you didn’t get your way. But maybe this was his opening…

The night began like any other. The boys arrived and found their seats on the patio. You served them dinner. They made their remarks as you walked back in the house. Simon smirked as he noticed the extra sway of your hips as the alcohol gave you some extra confidence.

After dinner, you found your spot on Simon’s lap. He could tell you’ve almost reached your limit. He noticed the way wiggled in his lap. He noticed the pout on your lips when his hands stopped your movement. John was the first to notice. He noticed your little show and saw the pout of your lips. John flashed a smirk at Simon and was met with one back.

The boys continued to play their cards and you continued to get needier. Johnny could help but notice the way your nipples perk through your little tank top. Nudging Kyle to look too.

You were oblivious to the three men staring at you and chuckling at your neediness. All you wanted was Simon’s attention and he was too busy playing cards.

You eventually realized you weren’t going to get what you wanted and decided on just pouting. Arms crossed, pouty lips, and your back to Simon’s chest. You could feel the occasional chuckle but refused to acknowledge him.

“Baby, w’don’t ya go grab us some more beer?” Usually this was met with a kiss to the lips and you finding your way inside. Today, however, he was met with nothing.

John chimed in. ��Yeah sweetheart, could use another cold one.” He flashed you a smile. Nothing. You refused to acknowledge any of them.

“I think someone is pouting”. You didn’t miss the mocking tone in Kyle’s voice.

“Am not!!” You all but yelled at him. Voice laced with attitude.

All the eyebrows were raised. You hadn’t ever dared to act like this around them. Them only ever seeing your sweetness.

Simon didn’t hesitate to pick you up and carry you inside. He sat you down on the kitchen counter and let his hands fall to either side of you. He wanted to give you a chance to fix it.

“What’s the problem? Hmm?”

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes. “Just need you!” Your pouty lip returned. Simon chuckled. “It’s not funny”, you say as you attempt to push him away.

“I know, baby, I know. I’ll give you all the attention you need later. But for now, I need you to be a good girl. Can you do that? Can you be patient?”

He didn’t miss your eye roll or the way you squirmed at being called a good girl. Nonetheless, you nodded and wiped your tears. Simon moved away to grab some beers from the fridge.

“Now when we get back out there, you’re going to apologize for your attitude and just sit patiently. Be a good girl, hm?”

“Yes, Si…” Simon helped you off the counter and guided you back to the patio.

“Oh thank you for the drink darling” Johns voice dropping with amusement as they could all see your tear stained eyes and pouty lip still present.

“Yah, such a sweet girl” Johnny replied.

Simon was still standing behind you as you finished passing out the drinks. He landed a gentle (for Simon) smack on your ass as a little nudge to get started with your apology. He didn’t miss the way Kyle and Johnny were readjusting in their seats

“‘m sorry for having an attitude…” your sentence was punctuated with a sigh as you sat down onto Simon’s lap again. The boys chuckled and began their card game once again. Simon readjusted you to where you were straddling one of his legs. Playing it off as he needed better access to the table.

Your neediness had subsided for only a few minutes before your hips began to roll on Simon’s thigh. Kyle and Johnny’s eyes widened at the sight. John only smirked.

As John was passing out the cards for the new round, Simon cleared his throat.

“The winner of this round can take care of this needy slut I have here. Can’t help but be needy. Isn’t that right?”

You suddenly got shy, sinking back into Simon.

“Oh come on baby, just so needy. It’s okay, we’ll get somebody to take care of you”

A whine escapes your lips as Simon ignores you in his lap. The game carries on with every man playing and praying for a chance at the pretty little thing in Simon’s lap. The round ends as Simon places down his last card.

“Come on, that’s not fair!” Kyle exclaims. Frustrated and bulging in his pants.

“Rules are rules” John replies as he eyes Simon.

“Your lucky day” Simon readjust you and begins to unzip his pants. Your panties are soaked at this point. Pussy dripping with desire at the idea of Simon taking you right here in front of them or the idea of one of them taking you. “Take em off”.

You get a little shy as your realize Simon is really going to take you right here. In front of all of them. “Come on baby, show em what they missed out on.”

You slowly take them off and Simon lowers you down onto his lap. The boys are drooling at this point. Palming themselves through their pants at the sight of Simon’s giant cock sliding into your soaking little pussy. Simon lets you ride him for just a little until he can tell you’re close to cumming. He hands still your hips and a whimper leaves your mouth.

“That’s enough baby. Gonna let someone else feel you. Whoever is lucky enough to win this round”

The round goes on for what feels like hours. Simon still hard inside you with his hands finding your hips anytime you try to move. He gives you a warning squeeze as he stills your hips once more.

You can’t help it. You’re just so so needy. You find your hips moving once again in search of any release. What you didn’t expect was Simon’s hand coming down, smacking your pussy.

“That’s enough.” His sentence punctuated with another slap. A moan escapes your lips. The round finally comes to and end as John puts down his last card Simon chuckles as he lifts you off his lap. You’re hesitant. Is this really happening? Is Simon really gonna let someone else fuck you? You question is answered with a smack to your ass. Your legs are wobbly as you make your way over to John. He already has his dick out, hand moving up and down.

“Come here sweetheart.” His hands find your hips as he guides you down onto him. You moan as he moves you up and down. “God Simon, such a perfect little thing you have. Taking me nice and good.” John fucks you nice and slow. Rolling your hips and helping you bounce up and down

All cards are on the table as all men have their hands wrapped around their cocks. All rock hard at the sight of John fucking Simon’s little play thing.

As you chase your high, John’s quickly follows. Your eyes meet Simon’s. His laced with lust and desire. You’re laced with need. Simon stands and makes his way to you, where you still sit with John’s cock inside you.

“There’s my good girl. Why don’t you show Johnny just how good you can be?”

You let him help you off of John’s lap and over to Johnny’s. Simon moves to behind Johnny and removes your top. Leaving you bare and vulnerable. Simon leans against the railing and watches as his teammate fucks you He doesn’t give you much time to rest. Johnny doesn’t take you as soft as John. He’s pounding in and out of your pussy. Tits bouncing in his face. He fucks you hard and fast. You’re quick to come again, Johnny coming with you. Your face falls to his shoulder “where’s that attitude now?” Johnny quips.

The boys chuckle as the pout reruns to your lip. “Oh there it is!” Kyle laughs as Simon guides you over to Kyle.

“Need help? Hm? Need to me help fix that attitude?” Kyle is grinning as Simon helps you onto his lap.

“Yes she does. Help her out Kyle” Simon is leaning back on the railing as the moans escape from your lips. Kyle isn’t gentle or nice. His hands find your nipples as he makes your ride him. More moans escaping as your hands find his wrists. His hands find your hips as he notices your slowing down from being tired. He pounds into you as you once again chase your high as he does too. “Too much” you mutter.

Simon helps your off his lap and bends you over the table. Before you can protest, he’s deep inside you pounding in and out.

“Is this what my needy slut wanted? Did you want me to fuck you here in front of all of them? Did you want them to fuck you? Just so needy.”

You can’t help as the tears fall down your cheeks. It’s just too much. You can’t take anymore.

Almost as if he can read your mind, “come on baby, just one more”. The boys coo at you as Simon takes you from behind. Their hands find your nipples, your ass, roaming your body. Their hands make your body burn from the overstimulation of taking them all.

Simon coaxes one more out of you and comes in you as the other boys cum leaks out. He can’t help but moan at the sight. Pussy dripping with all their cum, hips and ass red from their hands guiding you up and down, and cheeks tear stained from it being all too much.

John returns to the patio with a wet rag, not that you noticed he left. Simon helps your get cleaned up and Kyle helps you get dressed. Johnny brings you a glass of water and fixes your hair out of your face.

Simon picks you up as your wrap your legs and arms around him. He carries you inside and helps you to bed. He leaves you after holding you for a few minutes with a kiss on your forehead

He walks back outside to all the boys with a huge smile on their face. What you don’t realize is that it takes Simon way longer than usual to join you in bed. Too wrapped up in conversation with his boys about how beautiful and perfect you are.

Let’s just say, the gatherings are way more eventful after today. The boys finding more and more reasons to come over. You finding more and more reasons to host them. Simon doesn’t mind and you definitely don’t.

[yyawnjun]

VIVID MEMORIES

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. SUMMARY: Your first vivid memory of you and your best friend, Choi Seungcheol, was when you were seven years old, on a summer evening. You spent the day at the beach and were about to build your sand castle. You had no notion of time; you were happy without realizing it. The second vivid memory you have of your best friend is from a cold winter night. Your 14-year-old selves comfortable between the blankets and a Christmas movie playing in the background. On that night, you found out that S.coups would be moving in a week. The third vivid memory you have of your best friend is from the autumn before you entered college. You were nineteen years old and had moved into a university-provided shared flat; it was evening when you were ready to meet your roommate. So you entered the apartment, and your gaze met the brown eyes you knew better than anyone else. The fourth vivid memory you have of your S.coups was on a spring night when everything changed. […]

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. GENRE: fluff, a bit angst, slightly suggestive || best friends to (to strangers to roommates) lovers

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. WARNINGS: mention of food/alcohol (just beers)

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. WORD COUNT: 7k !!

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. A.N.: hey guys, after a month from the spoiler, here is the Vivid Memories fanfiction!! I'll start with a big thank you to lia @sobun1est , she proofread everything and was always super kind and supportive, she was literally an angel.

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. TAGLIST: @kflixnet @christinewithluv @thepoopdokyeomtouched @leah-rose03 @lavayeon @renapersa @xcynthiaaa

Your first vivid memory of yourself and your best friend is from a summer evening at the beach. Everything is clear in your mind, from the time you arrived in the afternoon, to lunch, and finally, the time spent between the water and the sand. You and S.coups had been best friends since birth; your cribs were close, and your mothers had met in the hospital and ended up becoming great friends.

From the earliest age, you were used to doing everything together, so much so that no one could tell if you were close friends or siblings. Regardless of how you appear; spending so much time with a person tends to make you resemble them.

You had similar tastes in everything - from simple preferences for snacks to choices of games to play together. Between you two, he was slightly more extroverted and found it easier to talk to people. But being such good friends, you - who were initially more reserved and introverted - ended up resembling him in this aspect as well.

Even the more negative traits were shared - like stubbornness or sensitivity. But these weighed much less; you were good to each other, and everyone could notice that. You had also formed a group of friends, with whom you often gathered in the afternoons to play.

This had also happened on that hot summer day. You had arrived in the morning, but all of your friends had left shortly after lunch, leaving only you and S.coups to complete your project of immense significance and excellent architectural attention: a sandcastle.

6:06 p.m.

"We need more water. I'll go get it," he had told you as he stood up with the bucket and came to the sea.

"I can do it! You can finish the towers since you're more precise."

"No, I'll go because I'm stronger. You're a girl."

"But I'm faster!" you replied with a challenging tone.

"That's not true," and he turned around, running.

You followed him without hesitation. Your laughter resonated on the now-empty beach; the breeze ruffled your hair, and before you knew it, you were the first to reach the sea.

And when he got to you, he "accidentally" pushed you and caused you to fall into the water. You were near the coast, so you could touch the bottom, and you took advantage of the situation by dragging Scoups into the water and pretending to take his hand to pull yourself up. A water splash war began; the more one of you moved the water, the other responded with equal vigor. Laughter, splashes, and the sound of your bodies moving through the water filled the silence on that summer evening.

Your castle was never finished - and this memory would haunt you in the future - because your parents came towards you to call you as it was getting late, and it was time to go home.

So, you started walking towards the car; both of you were still soaking wet, and you shared a large towel for the entire journey back. During that ride, you sang your favorite songs at the top of your lungs, imagining yourselves as famous singers with a microphone and a big audience.

If you closed your eyes, you could still vividly see your best friend at the age of seven, moving his lips with his eyes closed, singing various songs with his already splendid voice.

The ride back was short, or at least it seemed so to you because you had focused only on the two of you singing. You helped your mothers cook dinner, which was based on ramen. S.coups was busy chopping vegetables while you set the table. Meanwhile, your conversations were varied; from regretting not finishing the sandcastle to discussing who among you was more in tune. Later in the night, when the spontaneous question of what you wanted to be when you grew up developed, your talk would be further explored.

But before that, there was a moment of play after helping clean the kitchen when everyone finished dinner. Playing activity games led to lying on the floor and starting a long game of Monopoly. You knew the rules well enough to the point that you ended up dividing all the money in the bank and started buying and stealing houses from each other, easily ignoring the original rules.

You remember perfectly the fake pout put on by your best friend when he realized he had been tricked several times by you. His arms crossed, and his gaze turned elsewhere as he tried to scold you for your immorality and for how wrong you had been.

The mood, however, quickly dissipated because your genuine laughter had enchanted him, distracting him from the original reason for it.

So, the late hour arrived, and both of you put on your pajamas and lay down to sleep.

Your bodies were exhausted, but your young minds were not. You returned to the topic that had characterized your conversations many times: what you wanted to do when you grew up.

S.coups was so sure he wanted to become a singer that it became a habit for you to listen to him talk about all the things he would do once he became famous.

Thinking back, it warmed your heart when you noticed that in all his plans, he was never alone - it was always Scoups and Yn.

You also shared your dreams, and you both promised to be each other's number-one fans - supporting each other's choices and ideas. In the end, it was almost as if dreams had become another thing you shared.

"Cross on the heart, we'll be together forever, and our dreams will come true a thousand percent!!" you both said in unison at the top of your lungs, as if it hadn't long passed the time for both of you to sleep.

You vividly remember looking into his eyes as he made that promise; the moon was the only source of light faintly illuminating his face, and his smile was barely perceptible. The bond of trust that united you was deep, and on that summer night, for the first time, you felt him very close to your heart - you couldn't explain why, perhaps because you didn't care to understand it. You were happy, and that was enough!

Your summer days spent together would be many more, as well as the years you had planned to spend together.

In no time, your conversations became more and more confusing, and the words became slurred. Without realizing it, you fell asleep - facing each other, with a faint smile on your faces and your eyes closed peacefully.

The vivid memory of every moment of that day would come back to you at least one night of all your subsequent summers - regardless of how everything had changed over time in a completely unexpected way.

You'll remember those times with melancholy because they were over and with joy. After all, they were there.

The second vivid memory you have with your best friend takes place during a winter. Your 14-year-old selves were returning home from a long snowball fight that had lasted all afternoon on a Friday night when the snow was falling heavily.

It began as a competition to build the most beautiful snowman, then evolved into a team effort to create one together, and then ended in the destruction of your work and a snowball war.

Competitiveness raised your spirits, but your best friend unexpectedly gave up and joined you after raising the white flag.

He'd whispered an excuse for his defeat, meaning that he wanted to leave that happy memory of your win rooted in your mind.

At that moment you did not fully understand his words, but they took on another meaning after the news you learned that evening.

So you walked into the house, where the pleasant aroma of pizza filled the air. Not even time to take off your coats began your competition to get to the kitchen first.

When you arrived, there was a table set for the two of you and a message from your parents telling you that you and S.coups would be eating alone and that a hot pizza was waiting for you in the oven.

You remember your best friend's smile as you read aloud the message left, and his excitement at the idea that you could spend the night together watching movies and eating anything you wanted.

After your victory greeting, which included a 3-second handshake and a pirouette to each other, you determined who would shower first while the other looked for movie marathon alternatives to watch that night. You both assumed you'd be able to stay up all night.

You won and quickly showered. 

As soon as you came out, you noticed S.coups concentrating as he read the list of movies you had made - you swore that, for a moment, his eyes had appeared glazed over, but at the sight of you he had quickly composed himself.

He had run toward the shower, and instead, you had noticed a note with three options, including one of them written in big letters: " CHRISTMAS MOVIE + STUDIO GHIBLI MARATHON."

You didn't ask too many questions - on the contrary, you thought about how much those films had been a fundamental part of your childhood, and your heart warmed.

When your best friend returned from the shower, you were still thinking about the order in which you would watch the movies. When you looked up to discuss your decision, you noticed that the boy was holding a towel and wasn't wearing a T-shirt. You immediately shifted your sight and quit speaking.

S.coups looked perplexed, but he quickly realized what was going on.

His lips formed a pleased smirk.

You were teenagers, and even though you had shared everything since you were younger, those awkward moments - the ones of contact with reality - deepened your bond.

"Put a shirt on."

"Why should I, huh?" he asked, chuckling.

"It's winter...you might get sick." you stammered as you pulled yourself together and went back to look at him.

"Okay," he snorted at you.

So your gaze was drawn to his back as he struggled to put on the pajama shirt he kept in your house because you were like siblings.

The boy was a dancer, and the results were visible on his physique; his muscles were well defined, and his movements were incredibly harmonious, to the point that you were charmed observing him 

You were thrown back to earth by a sneeze.

"Yn...your hair is still wet - he told you as he laid his towel on your head - and then you tell me to be careful not to catch cold.." he continued as he quickly dried your hair with the towel. 

You laughed too, and as S.coups's movements warmed you up a little.

At that moment, the vivid memory focused more on how you felt. 

For a few seconds, neither of you had spoken, as if both of you had been stuck in your stream of thought. For the second time that day you noticed his gaze fixed on you, but his as he wandered elsewhere.

A snort and a smile interrupted that moment, and you proactively got up to take the hot pizza out of the oven.

S.coups towel was left on your head, and you vividly remember the scent of the vanilla-flavored bubble bath used by the boy being overpowered by that of the pizza fresh out of the oven.

You turned around and saw him sitting with a fork and knife in hand smiling, and ready for dinner.

Before long the pizza you had in front of you was over, and thanks to the light topics discussed the time had, to say the least, flown by.

You had discussed as much and as little as which of your professors would be most likely to win in a fight - both of you were convinced it would not be the English one - or whether there were more stars or grains of sand in the world.

After these deep discussions, you moved to the couch and set up the television to begin your marathon of Home Alone, and the Studio Ghibli films.

The evening began with the Christmas movie and continued with Totoro, whose initial song the two of you were happily humming the refrain.

You had always been used to being together, and from an early age physical contact had been a present element in your friendship.

As you grew up, it was as if a veil of awkwardness had appeared but at the same time, it was as if your deep friendship had overcome it: proof of this was the position you were in. 

He sat, and you with your head over his legs while he stroked your hair and you scratched his arm. Nothing strange, nothing mischievous or sensual, simply two teenagers watching a movie together for the umpteenth time.

The more you try to recall that vivid memory, the more you begin to notice how many times your gaze had crossed and how you had been the center of the boy's attention.

You hadn't paid too much attention at the time; you both knew the movies by heart, and you were both exhausted.

But you still started at 11 pm Spirited Away.

With dreamy eyes, you looked at the world represented by the film, and with the same eyes, S.coups looked at you.

You noted he seemed thoughtful because he commented on the movies less than usual, but you had seen him weird all day. It was only then that you realized there was something he had not yet told you but was on the verge of telling you.

Only you knew him well enough to sense it without him saying anything.

When the film was over you began to pay more attention to S.coups attitudes. 

He stroked you more gently than usual, and never had he pulled your hair or pinched you as he usually did in a friendly way.

The third film on the list was your movie, Howl's Wandering Castle.

And, as difficult as it was to tell your friend that you were tired and that it might be better to go to bed, you chose that option because you were becoming concerned for the boy. He gave no sign of resisting, which made you certain that something was going to come out that night.

And so for the umpteenth time, you found yourselves lying in a bed together; there had never been any awkwardness because you had always filled the silence with words or music.

But on that winter night, no one dared to utter a word - almost as if you were both aware that there was whatever you would say would come out unpleasant.

There was only a dim bajour lighting the room, and you could occasionally hear the sound of your breaths.

"I'm moving out tomorrow." 

Few words, many feelings, many tears, and few reactions.

"Really?"

"Yes. But not by my will, my parents are moving."

"Oh." 

You could not process a single word, no rational reaction was accomplished by you or him.

Both of you stood motionless, staring at each other.

His eyes struggled to maintain eye contact, occasionally moving to the sides of the room.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"It was a sudden thing: I found out last month. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I guess I didn't have the courage you know," he told you, returning to look into your eyes.

You felt like a great selfish urge to ask him to stay.

"And where will you go?"

"Seoul."

There were so many things you wanted to tell him, but your profound admiration and affection for him kept you from acting selfishly.

"It will be a great opportunity for your dream S.coups! I will visit you often, so forget me not!"

From that simple sentence, his whole expression changed; his grimace turned into a big smile, and a few tears fell from his eyes; as if he was waiting for your approval....

Instinctively he hugged and thanked you.

Despite all the years we had spent together, hearing him cry was still new to you - but you took his cry as permission to start crying too.

And on that night, you remember so vividly. 

It was on that night that your dreams and destinies parted.

You would have liked to talk more throughout the night, but sleep was stronger than you, and you both collapsed asleep.

You were still embraced; his face was in the crook of your neck, and your scent flooded his nostrils was enough to bring him a peaceful sleep.

Your faces were still adorned with the previous now-dried tears, while a faint melancholy smile decorated your faces.

Your memories of the next day, the official farewell day, the day of a thousand questions answered and planned, for some inexplicable reasons were less vivid.

But his broken voice of that cold winter night was a memory that never faded from your mind.

The third vivid memory you have of you and your best friend is of an autumn day, the one before you started college.

Since you had drifted apart, many things had happened; good and bad times had alternated, and time had passed.

You made a promise to stay in touch forever, but due to a thousand different duties and circumstances, you both had become increasingly unreachable.

In the beginning, you still kept a diary with all the things you wanted to say to him and meticulously updated it every day.

But even the last bit of paper that held you together had faded away.

Memories with him remained of happy and comfortable times; when you thought about it, your soul was filled with melancholy and nostalgia. Nostalgia is the primal meaning of the word, as it had been for Odysseus in the Odyssey: homelessness.

The memory of home, which had always been associated with S.coups for you, dissipated, and many new ones took the place.

The high school years seemed to have flown past, whereas they appeared forever previously. You finished with honors and were able to attend a prestigious college with many degrees owing to a scholarship.

Fate or not, you ended up in Seoul.

As soon as you read the letter of admission, that location resonated with you with the voice of S.coups. That broken voice on that summer night still resonated with you on an autumn night when you were 19 years old and on your way to Seoul.

Your baggage was packed, and your flight was scheduled to depart the next morning. You'd find your mother at the Seoul airport, who had gone there first to help you with your flat. Your parents had gotten you an apartment near the university as a gift when you were swamped with stuff to study.

Your scholarship covered half the costs, and the other half was split with a roommate, whom your parents had promised you would like.

You slept little that night, your mind racing with everything from the things you'd miss to the experiences you'd have.

Fear and anxiety weighed you down, and soothing music to lull you to sleep didn't seem to help.

Until, late at night, sleep prevails. You awoke after a few hours. You didn't feel tired because adrenaline was racing through your veins, keeping you awake enough to get up and settle before you left.

You wish farewell to your home, your city, and all that had been your life up until that moment at 6 a.m.

The journey passed between a thousand songs, books, drawings, and games. You arrived so late in the afternoon at the airport, where you met your mother, and together decided to take a tour of the city.

You left your baggage in a designated locker and approached her after she showed you the university's offices. Sunset had arrived, and the autumn colors had calmed the atmosphere.

Everything was wonderful on that day, which you remember vividly.

Fortunately, tiredness only set in after you and your mother arrived at your flat. Your conversations during the day had been of all kinds, but particularly at the end, they had focused on your future and the one with whom you would share a room.

You expected to see him at the airport, or at the very least to learn more about him. But, in the end, your mother did not reveal anything to you, and you would only find out who it was in a few minutes.

Following your mother to a very tall building, you promptly took an elevator up to the fourth floor after grabbing your belongings.

You were experiencing a wide range of emotions at the time.

Mostly, you were worried about everything that was waiting for you.

You arrived on the sixth floor and entered room 505 after leaving the elevator. You remember vividly putting the keys into the keyhole - initially wrongly twisting them. You entered the house after succeeding.

The lights were on, and a black coat was already hanging on the coat rack on the left side of the door. You did the same thing, and after putting your shoes away, you noticed that some of them were already there. You took the slippers left for you and passed the others to your mother. You walked down the short hall and reached the small living room.

Not many people know, but the sense most connected to memories is the smell.

A smell, a scent intense or not, pleasant or not, recurring or not, is what most allows a person to bring back a memory.

A scent of fresh sea water invaded your nostrils in that vivid memory. A distinct smell hit you even before you noticed those brown eyes that you most recognized, even before you heard him say "Welcome to Seoul," even before he came to you for a hug, and even before all that you would eat together.

That smell of the ocean brought back your first vivid memory of a summer evening spent laughing on the beach while building a sand castle. Later, all of the other senses were activated, respectively.

In front of you stood Choi Seungcheol, S.coups, your childhood best friend. He had a smile on his face and promptly stood up to greet you in a long hug.

Then he showed you throughout your small apartment, from the hallway to the shared kitchen and bathroom to the separate but adjacent rooms.

You quickly sorted some of your belongings before proceeding to the kitchen. For a moment, you had even thought that you would sleep in the same room - maybe even in the same bed - as it was.

You had then pondered the innocuous thought while the three of you sat in the kitchen reminiscing about the good old days. So much had changed, and your best friend had grown into an objectively attractive guy.

He had grown taller, the effects of years of gymnastics were visible, and the muscles could be seen even when he wasn't shirtless. He had changed his hairstyle, now wearing a not-so-long mullet with two strands of hair hanging over his eyes, and his clothing style had seemed evolved. He had dressed for the occasion in a tight white sweater with a high neck, explaining that he had done so remembering your style preference for him.

Soon your mother was gone, leaving you alone.

On that autumn evening, you could write an entire essay for how many vivid details you remember.

Beginning with the initial moments of embarrassment, promptly eclipsed by S.coups with his usual irony, which you had learned for many years to counter.

To continue with the thousands of questions and answers you both had. Time had passed, yet your memories of each other had crystallized. In difficult times, he admitted to thinking about your friendship, and you confided in him about your nostalgia for what you had.

He had now begun a singing career, although his company could only pay him enough to live in an apartment near the university, where he sometimes attended classes.

He explained how your mother showed up at one of his early fansigns to propose that the two of you move in together, and how for a year you had been oblivious of this plan. You smiled and noticed how years had passed, yet his method of communicating things through gestures and laughing had not changed.

Immediately, he got interested in you as well, asking you many questions and listening attentively to your responses. You recalled the last nighttime conversation you had with S.coups, the one that divided your fates. And that vivid memory returned to him as well.

The temper of fate had you both laughing - the talk that had divided you remembered the one that had brought you together.

Your best friend mentioned how he no longer slept that well from that night, oblivious that you remembered how you fell asleep holding each other with dry tears on your faces.

The hot tea you were sipping turned quickly into beer and chips, and your chats became increasingly hazy as the sleep began to mix with the alcohol.

In no time, your conversations became more and more confusing, and the words became slurred. Without realizing it, you fell asleep - facing each other, with a faint smile on your faces and your eyes closed peacefully.

You awoke in your bed the next morning, only to discover that S.coups had brought you there. You recognized you were wearing pajamas after looking in the mirror.

Your face turned very red.

But after that initial reaction, you realized you were still wearing the clothing from the previous day underneath, so you laughed at the boy's odd action of kindness.

You walked to the kitchen after a short shower and noticed a still-steaming breakfast on the table. With it there was a note with recognizable handwriting warning you that he had gotten up early because his practice began at 7 a.m. and that he had made you your favorite breakfast, hoping that it hadn't changed over the years.

And it hadn't changed, just as your feelings for that boy hadn't.

Or so S.coups thought...but just as milk for breakfast had been replaced by coffee in your tastes, had your feelings of simple friendship been replaced by anything else?

While these thoughts raced through your mind, you prepared for your first day of college. Anxiety was now accompanied by the reassuring consciousness of being near to your best friend, and you entered the structure that would house you for the next five years, charged with energy.

The fourth vivid memory you have of you and your best friend is during a refreshing spring night when everything changed.

You'd get used to living with S.coups while meeting many new people - from college classmates to everyone in your best friend's group.

A thousand exams were stressing you out, and as the seasons changed, so did your emotions. However, unlike seasons, which must follow an endless cycle that has already been programmed, humans are doomed to an end after traveling the straight stretch that is unpredictable life.

You'd started spending your days and evenings together again. You stayed in your room at first to concentrate, while he stayed in his to avoid disturbing you with music. But before you knew it, you were both in the living room working on your assignments. You'd spend hours studying on the computer or in your books, while S.coups sat on the couch with his headphones on and his eyes closed, imagining the choreography he had learned or humming the choruses of his songs. You'd gone from maximum distance between cities to smallest proximity while sleeping curled on the couch with Studio Ghibli movies playing in the background.

It happened that you would be invited to parties and the two of you together would go without even planning it. And if you were late working for your small job that you had found for yourself, you never had to go home alone - there was always S.coups to drive you home.

You enjoyed long, relaxed drives in the fall and winter, as well as delightful evenings, particularly during the warmer months.

Everyone you knew had doubted your friendship at some point - in fact, everyone was certain that you were having a secret relationship. But every time that topic was posed to you, you denied it, remembering that you had been "best friends from childhood."

Back to the vivid memory from the spring night: the night after your last exams for the school year, the same night S.coups talked to you under the full moon as he had done on that summer night when you were children.

When you checked your phone, it was 6.06 p.m.; you should have been ready for dinner with S.coups in less than half an hour. You'd picked that evening to celebrate the end of your examinations and the start of his first concert tour.

You were in the bathroom getting dressed when you heard S.coups singing from his room. And you were well aware that he only sang out on two occasions, during concerts, or when he was happy. The thought reassured you, and you instinctively smiled at the prospect of going out to dinner with him.

Not that you hadn't done it before, but something felt different this time, perhaps because of your incredible sixth sense.

For the first time, you had no idea where you were going; only he had thought of it, and he had officially asked you to be free that evening because he had something special planned for you. Although he had previously given up after your insistence on the surprise disclosure, he had made no move at that point.

To add to the list of surprises, that time he did not seek your advice on what to wear.

All of this worsened your anxiety, which was tempered by the sound of S.coups's voice in the next room.

You spent the entire afternoon in your wardrobe putting on clothes because you had no idea where you were going. You had tried on every possible clothing, from skirts to dresses to jeans, but in the end, you had chosen one that made you feel comfortable. You would have dared a little more with black shoes and more detailed makeup that enhanced the aspects of your face that you valued the most.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door just as you finished applying your crimson lipstick.

You knew your time in the bathroom was over and chose to finish and go to your room.

S.coups came in as you were leaving. He had the clothing he was going to wear with him, and despite your sneaky glimpse, he pushed you out of the bathroom, mocking your impatience.

As a result, you returned to your room and finished getting ready.

You finished at 6:46 p.m. and waited for him to exit the bathroom.

Meanwhile, you had begun working on your crochet project, because you promised yourself that you would begin as soon as you finished your exam session. You were so busy with counting the stitches that you didn't notice when the hairdryer noise stopped, and S.coups came out of the bathroom.

You only recognized when someone touched your shoulder, and you almost threw what you were holding at him. After looking up and seeing him, you realized that you had not only lost count of the stitches but also more than a few beats.

He was wearing the white turtleneck T-shirt he had put on the first time you had seen each other in years, with a black blazer over it and plain pants of the same color. His hair was carefully put backward with gel, and a trickle of makeup was barely perceptible on his face.

For a moment you felt inadequate, and not dressed enough for how he had put himself.

"C'mon stop looking so good every time, dumbass" until this unexpected comment of his brought you back to reality.

"Look who's talking," you replied.

It was natural for you to exchange compliments, but it was never something too explicit or automatic as on that night.

"Let's go, or we'll be late."

"You're the one who took forever to get ready!"

"Yeah, you aged so much that you looked like a grandmother while working with those wires."

"HEY! Don't make fun of my crochet, I'm slowly learning."

"Croissant- what?"

And that's what you were talking about as you walked toward the car that would take you to the place chosen by S.coups.

You climbed into the car, and the first song that started was BLOSSOM by Enhypen.

Scoups started telling you about how he had met the members of that group and how everyone had been super friendly. But you couldn't focus on what he was saying at the time because he seemed to be the only one who had your attention.

He called out your lack of attention two or three times, but you instantly lied and said you were focused on the song and began humming it. So he didn't question it and began singing along with you.

So you were back in the car together, singing your favorite songs at the top of your lungs.

The first vivid memory came back to you.

" S.coups was so sure he wanted to become a singer [...]

in all his plans, he was never alone - it was always Scoups and Yn."

And that was it, he had become a famous singer, and in his plans, you were really in his future plans too.

You finished singing There is a Light that Never Goes Out by the Smiths just as the car stopped - only later did you find out that S.coups had taken a longer ride to let you finish your songs.

Before you could open the door, he got up and opened it for you

"Oh, what a gentleman," you said to him.

And he responded by bowing his head slightly and chuckling.

The place was not far from where the car had been walking. So you managed to walk for less than five minutes, and by 7:04 p.m. you had arrived.

Outside, two big street lamps illuminated the area, and the entry had a large white windowed door. As soon as you walked in, a waiter approached you, and the sight of S.coups was enough for you to be brought to a reserved table.

From the velvety chairs to the scarlet walls, the inside was all about the red color palette. Everything was surrounded by wide windows, allowing the sunset light to cast a lovely glow on the interior. The smell, on the other hand, was the first thing that struck you and brought back memories of going on family vacations and eating in locations that smelt like home.

That's what the place smelled like, everything you'd left behind when you moved to Seoul from your hometown - it had a reassuring scent of home.

Despite the red, the mood was not too elegant, and numerous people cheered the place with quiet talk.

You had been fascinated for so long that it was S.coups who jolted you awake by encouraging you to sit in the chair he moved for you.

"If you keep being a gentleman, look, I might end up falling for you" you chuckled as you sat down - and that comment had been more spontaneous than ever.

It was only manner, attitude, character, and soul that you had gradually fallen in love with.

"Noted"

"And you're even bringing me to an amazing place! Everything is really beautiful here."

"I know, I know that I have very good taste."

Shortly afterward the menu also came to you, and yours was along with your flower.

Surprised by the gesture, you looked at S.coups questioningly,

"Who knows! The waiter must have a crush on you."

"And how does he know what my favorite flower was?"

"Stalker?"

"Sure, sure.."

You ordered and were quickly served.

You both ended up taking two different things, and swapping them because you liked what he got better and vice versa - it had been that way since you were little.

S.coups told you how well the training was going, and at the same time how tiring they were, and you told him about various things that had happened to you.

You finally had time to talk since you had been particularly busy recently.

You recall standing in silence numerous times, watching how the light of the sunset highlighted his face, to the point where you felt compelled to photograph him to save that memory forever.

As the sun had set, so too had your dinner ended; and of course, it had ended with dessert even though both of you were quite full.

"Come on, I still have to take you somewhere!"

You nodded, and both of you got up to go pay.

He was quicker in handing the card to the cashier, who only commented with a wistful sigh saying: "Oh how beautiful is the young love."

Both of you did not respond, so were you both against that meaning, or did you not want to embarrass the other? Or maybe both?

You would exit and turn away from where the car was. You turned left again and entered what looked like a park. The streetlights that were there slowly diminished until there were no more.

If you had not had him by your side, you would have probably run in fear. But by following him without asking too many questions you could still feel safe.

The moment was silent, and the only noise you could hear was your heels and a slight movement of the leaves. The place had grown darker and darker, and again, the only light illuminating you was that of the full moon.

Unconsciously you attached to his jacket to do not lose him, and then your hand had reached down and entangled with his. You walked for ten minutes when he stopped and asked you to close your eyes.

You, trusting him, did so.

He came beside you and let you cling to his arm again so you would not fall...but you slipped, and you both fell.

You opened your eyes in fright, and before you even realized where you were, you laughed as you realized that both of you were now sitting on the floor.

A collective laughter began as soon as he realized that you had not been seriously hurt.

As soon as you looked into each other's without saying a word you began to laugh heartily, partly because of the funny situation and partly because you both felt the atmosphere lighter.

You were still on the ground, you had not moved, and your bodies were very close.

On that spring night, your laughing filled the silence, and when you opened your watery eyes again - this time from happiness - you heard him say "And here's to you, Seoul."

The last word, which reminded you of the boy's broken voice on a winter night, had now been replaced with a new memory.

It was now forever associated with his cheerful voice and with the time when you were looking down on the city from above.

The lights illuminated it, but your distance still allowed you to see the stars in the sky and the moon that shone most of all.

The more you try to recall that vivid memory, the more you begin to notice how many times your gaze had crossed and how you had been the center of the boy's attention.

But this time you had felt it, and you had taken your dumbfounded gaze off the beautiful sight and set your eyes on him as well.

Proud as he was, he had not taken his gaze off, and so you did the same.

Thus you noticed the moon reflected in his eyes as it illuminated his lips with its pale light.

And, certainly, you were looking at his lips openly by this point - menter his gaze shifted from your mouth to your right eye to your left eye, forming an imaginary triangle.

"It's okay if childhood best friends kiss sometimes, isn't it?"

His sudden sentence had amazed you, for you already looking at him so intensely, so closely had been enough to wake up the butterflies in your stomach.

"Mh, I would say yes."

His eyes first widened in amazement and soon after closed to move closer to you and join your lips.

A kiss full of passion, his hands took your face as you moved closer to him for full contact. It was a kiss the two of you had longed for, and almost 20 years of you were in that moment.

His body and yours were incredibly close, you could feel his heart beating wildly, or maybe it was yours? Or it was both of your hearts quickened by the moment so intense?

As soon as you broke away you timidly rested your head on his right shoulder - by now, you were so close that you were practically laying on his shoulder. You didn't have the boldness - and the breath to speak - so he was the one to say:

"Maybe best friends from childhood do these things sometimes... but can I be your boyfriend to do it whenever I want?"

And that was the fourth vivid memory of you and your best friend during a spring night when everything changed.

But, actually, feelings just revealed themselves to both of you as the seasons of your vivid memories changed.

notes: awop this was my first long fic, thank you so much for reading !! idc if the school part of the story sounds impractical, it’s for the plot; "bleu byzantin" is the name of the perfume I associate with S.coups!! 100% rec

I hope you like it!! ;

comments, likes, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated ♡

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 44]

*reposted because the chapter disappeared!*

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.2K

Chapter warning(s): (y/n) has a little breakdown, she's emotional and feels guilt (leading to her being stressed and overwhelmed)

"I guess it's been obvious to those that can read me. I wanted to clear my head a bit more before coming to talk to you about it. But it seems like I've been unsuccessful." You replied honestly, resting your head on your free hand.

"Just lay out all your thoughts here. I'll help you sort them through if you'd like." Yunho offered.

"I appreciate that, Yun. Really... It's just..."

"I'm one of the reasons why you can't make a decision, right?" He spoke softly. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. There was patience and love, no anger or sarcasm.

"Yun, it's not your fault. It's me... I'm just overthinking everything." You sighed, taking a small bite of your porridge.

"Don't beat yourself up for overthinking or feeling guilt. It's normal." He comforted.

"No matter what your decision is, nothing is going to change between us, alright?" He held your chin, tilting your head up to make you look at him.

"I know." You nodded, a small smile appearing on your face, leaning in to press your forehead against his. Count on Yunho to make you feel like you were the most loved person in the world, that look he gave you, it's like you hold his world in your hands. Yunho smiled back, going forward to give you a peck.

"It'll be okay, it's not like one of us is going off to war." He chuckled and stroked your cheek.

"I know that... It'll just be... different, you know?" You shrugged, the both of you going back to your meals before it got too cold. Yunho silently laid his hand over yours.

"It feels like I'm abandoning ship. All of us started this together, from day 1. If I leave, I'm taking 3 others with me." You sighed.

"And that's okay. It doesn't mean we're ending anything, love. We're all still family." He reminded.

"I still need to think this over. It's not a decision I can make right now for everyone, not right this instant. I need to talk to the others first." You gulped.

"Of course, take all the time you need." Yunho pulled you in to kiss your temple.

After the food was done, you put your bowl in the dishwasher and got yourself a beer. You needed the alcohol to calm your nerves and take the edge off. Mingi and San dragged Yunho away to play video games so you stayed in your room with Seonghwa.

"What's wrong? I can hear you think." Seonghwa asked, his vision trained on his switch game.

"Yunho brought up the contract, he knows I've been thinking about it. And of course, he was so god damn nice about it. I hate it." You groaned into the blanket.

"You're hearing yourself right? You hate that he's giving you the freedom and opportunity to choose what you want to do."

"Feminism aside. I want him to tell me what he wants. He always caters to my needs and wants." You sighed.

"So this time, you want him to tell you to stay or to go? Do you think that will help you make a decision?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, putting his switch aside.

"Ugh, I don't know, Hwa. Stop asking me more questions!" You groaned, falling back onto the pillow.

"Jagi, what's wrong?" Wooyoung poked his head into the room. He noticed it was just you and Seonghwa so he invited himself in. Jongho trailed in behind him, closing the door. Wooyoung laid beside you, his arms around your waist to snuggle with you while Jongho sat at the foot of the bed.

"Are you still stressing about the contract?" Jongho asked. You nodded glumly.

"My poor jagi... Jongho told me what's been bothering you... About our contracts ending." Wooyoung cooed, combing your hair away from your face lovingly.

"What should I do, Woo?" You turned to him.

"Wait, you're asking me?" Wooyoung blinked in confusion as your sudden question.

"She just wants you to give an answer so she doesn't have to think about it." Seonghwa said, knowing you well. You rolled your eyes and pinched his thigh, making him flinch.

"Yunho told me that it's my decision, that things won't change between us." You sat up, running your fingers through your hair.

"He's right. Nothing will change between us and them, we're all friends, a big family. Doesn't mean we don't work together, that we aren't a family anymore or that we won't see each other ever again." Wooyoung said.

"That's what Seonghwa hyung and I said. Yunho hyung won't let the decision hurt his relationship. But (y/n)'s feeling the guilt of leaving Yunho and the others." Jongho explained further.

"Yunho's too nice. He won't ever tell me to stay. But... now that we're all here, what do all of you want?" You asked them.

"We'll follow you. We're sticking together." Wooyoung said, looking to Jongho and Seonghwa.

"Agreed." The two nodded.

"You're not making this decision any easier on me. You all have the talents to work in better kitchens, under bigger management and getting a higher pay." You clicked your tongue.

"Who needs all that when we know we work best together and achieve results?" Seonghwa pointed out.

"Be honest with me, are you guys still getting offers?" You asked. They all looked at each other before nodding their heads slowly. It wasn't really a secret between the 4 of you that each of you got occasional offers from restaurants to join their team or pop up kitchens to come for short stints of work.

"Anything tempting?" You probed further.

"Not really." Jongho replied, checking his phone. You grabbed your phone, looking through your emails to refresh your memory of who had sent you job offers too.

"I wish Yunho would tell me what he wants. Saves me making a decision." You said, mainly to Jongho and Wooyoung.

"Can you say for certain, you won't be disappointed with his decision?" Wooyoung tilted his head.

"It's not that... To me, this is a big decision and I feel like I should be considering him as a factor in that decision." You tried to explain your feelings to them.

"But it's because this is a big decision that he wouldn't want his wants to get in the way of what you want." Seonghwa said.

"He's always putting me first. And for once, I just want to do the same for him." You let out a shaky breath. Maybe there was just so much more to this than you want to admit. It's not just about the job, it's about your relationship with Yunho.

"Jagi, is that another reason why you're so stressed out about this?" Wooyoung melted, stroking your head. You nodded and fell forward to his chest for him to hug you.

"I know this is one of many decisions I'll have to make in life and in my relationship. But so far, everything has been on my terms because what, I'm too emotionally unstable. And I hate it." You choked.

"Oh, sweetheart." Seonghwa rubbed your back.

"There's nothing to feel bad about. You're a couple that just shows each other love in different ways. You do it through acts of service and all 'this' is how Yunho shows his." Jongho comforted.

"I know it's not easy but don't think about this decision as an ultimatum or that it'll reflect your relationship with Yunho." Seonghwa said.

"You don't have to rush to a decision. For now, just enjoy this vacation." Wooyoung kissed your head.

"He's right. None of us are expecting you to make this decision right now, even Yunho. Who knows, maybe the cards will fall into place on their own." Seonghwa smiled softly. You were glad that you had the 3 of them by your side. Even if you felt guilty, you never wanted to work separately from them.

"Where's (y/n)?" Hongjoong asked, coming back from the deck to see Yunho lounging on the couch, watching Mingi and Yeosang challenge each other at mario kart.

"She's upstairs with Seonghwa hyung, Wooyoung and Jongho." Yunho replied.

"They're probably discussing the contract thing." Yeosang said, not taking his eyes off the game

"Yeah..." Yunho replied curtly. He didn't want to say anything more to that. That decision was yours and the team's to make. That's why Yunho hadn't gone to find you yet, giving you privacy.

"At the same time, we should discussing all of your contracts too." Yunho sat up, diverting the subject.

"Our contracts are ending?" Mingi agreed.

"Well, it is in your contracts that you can leave at any time. So I just wanted to check with all of you. There's no obligation to stay, of course. I'm already very grateful that you've all helped me so much the past year." Yunho said to his friends.

"I'll be having to take a step back. I can still work but not as actively as I am now. I've got some invites for custom fashion pieces to be made." Hongjoong raised his hand.

"Wow, that sounds amazing, hyung. Congratulations." All the boys clapped for the oldest.

"Thank you." Hongjoong grinned.

"Are you sure it won't be too taxing on you to work at the restaurant and do your projects at the same time, hyung?" San asked.

"I'll be fine. And until these projects have actual results, I'll need to get money to pay for all my supplies and studio rental somehow." Hongjoong shrugged.

"I've got nothing much else to do anyway so I'm cool with staying on." Mingi raised his hand.

"Actually, San and I were offered part time jobs at the gym as trainers for gym goers. We don't really know much of the details yet but if we decide to join them, it means we'll be part time at the gym and part time at the restaurant." Yeosang informed and San hummed in confirmation.

"That can be arranged. Let me know how it goes then I'll decide if I need to set aside some money to hire some part time wait staff." Yunho said.

"Of course. Thanks, Yunho ah." San smiled.

After the games ended, San and Yeosang went for a run while Hongjoong went to take a nap, leaving Yunho and Mingi.

"Here." Mingi handed Yunho a beer. The two of them decided to sit on the deck chairs on the beach, wanting to get some fresh air. Plus, the sun wasn't too intense.

"Can you believe it's already been a year?" Yunho asked, taking a swig of his beer.

"Time really flies. Feels like just yesterday, we were sitting at the booth and you were worrying about not having a kitchen crew when opening was just a few days away." Mingi reminded, making Yunho roll his eyes.

"So much has happened in a year. Couldn't have done it without you, Mingi ah." Yunho smiled softly.

"Of course, we've been doing everything together since we've met. And we'll continue to do it for as long as we're friends." Mingi grinned. Yunho threw his head back in laughter.

"Deal." Yunho clinked his bottle against Mingi's.

"Are you worried that (y/n) might decide to not stay with the restaurant?" Mingi asked.

"I wouldn't say worry is what I'm feeling... I don't know... I don't want her to feel like she has to stay because of me. She shouldn't have to sacrifice amazing opportunities for me." Yunho sighed.

"I'm sure you told her that but at the same time, I know (y/n) a little. She doesn't like the feeling of making decisions for herself, it makes her feel guilty and selfish. That's why she's thinking about you, Seonghwa hyung, Wooyoung and Jongho too. I can imagine the stress she's under." Mingi said.

"Now that she's broken things off with her father, I want her to feel that freedom of finally doing things for herself." Yunho shrugged.

"But you're in a relationship. It's normal to feel the need to think for the other person, not just yourself. You're thinking of what's best for her and she's doing the same for you." Mingi pointed out.

"Wow, you sure know a lot about relationships." Yunho raised an eyebrow.

"Not me, it's my mom. I've always been 'T' and I don't read underlying emotions so she explains them to me." Mingi chuckled.

"And I may not have witnessed a lot of relationship but I know you and (y/n) have a good thing going. Working separately isn't going to change that." Mingi added.

"You think so? I feel that way too." Yunho agreed.

"You both are opposites. Not opposites that fight each other but opposites that compliment each other like a jigsaw puzzle, you know? Like you're hyper and excited while she's cool and collected. Both good in their own way." Mingi tried to explain.

"I know. We both make each other better. I like that there's one of me and one of her." Yunho smiled fondly at the thought of you.

"The perfect golden retriever and black cat couple." Mingi snapped his fingers.

"You and San say that all the time. And I still have no idea what that means but I'm assuming I'm the golden retriever and (y/n)'s the black cat?" Yunho tilted his head.

"Duh. You're obviously NOT the black cat." Mingi scoffed, finishing his beer. Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Whiskey does act a lot like (y/n). It's adorable." Yunho grinned, proudly showing Mingi his phone wallpaper, which was you sleeping with Whiskey curled up and tucked under your chin, also asleep.

"I'm not sure if (y/n) would appreciate you using a picture of her sleeping as your wallpaper." Mingi chuckled.

"Surprisingly, she didn't care." Yunho shrugged.

Grabbing their empty beer bottles, the twin tower pair turned to head back into the house. Yunho saw Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho in the kitchen, fixing what looked like lunch. But you were not there. He didn't even need to ask, Seonghwa nodded towards the stairs and Yunho made his way to your room.

"Love?" Yunho knocked lightly and poked his head in. You were fast asleep, hugging Yuyu and Yunnie in each arm. Yunho went to your side of the bed, bending down so he could see your face.

"Oh, love..." He softened at the sight of your slightly puffed eyelids, a sign that you cried. Leaning over, he kissed your cheek and stroked your hair.

"Yun?" You had a small frown as you opened your eyes slightly.

"Sorry to disturb you, baby. Go back to sleep." Yunho whispered, patting your head.

"Stay with me?" You asked. Yunho nodded and climbed into bed, pulling you to his chest. You turned around so you faced him and let his whole body cocoon you.

"I love you." You breathed out as you fell back asleep, feeling much more comfortable and secure in Yunho's embrace.

"I love you too." He kissed your forehead and wound his arms tighter around you. Looking down at you, Yunho couldn't stop smiling. Everything you did, he found absolutely adorable. He closed his eyes and joined you in dreamland.

When Yunho stirred awake, his head was resting on your arm, facing your chest. You were using your phone, looking at it behind his head as you were careful not to disturb Yunho's rest.

"Love." He buried his face into your chest, squeezing your waist. He would never get over the feeling of waking up next to you.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" Your free hand playing with the ends of Yunho's hair.

"Yeah... I did... When did you wake up?" Yunho asked.

"Not too long ago. I didn't want to move though, just wanted to stay here with you. And somehow, some way, we swapped positions. Not that I minded." You chuckled.

"I don't mind this too." He giggled, using his strength to roll over so you were below him.

"Ah! Yunho! That's ticklish. Stoppppp~" You squirmed, the both of you laughing. He did relent, hovering over you with your arms wrapped around his neck. Yunho smiled softly, Mingi was right, you and him were strong and made for each other, nothing will change your relationship.

"For the rest of our time here, don't think about the contract or the job, alright? Just enjoy your time here and relax, hmm? We have all the time in the world." He whispered.

"I like that. Thank you." You pulled him down so you could kiss him. But was interrupted by the door opening.

"Hwa, what if we were naked?" You asked as Yunho's eyes widened, his cheeks and ears turning bright red at your words.

"Nothing I haven't seen. You two hungry? I kept some lunch for you." Seonghwa asked. You turned to Yunho, who was vigorously fanning his face, too busy to answer.

"You good?" You raised an eyebrow.

"D-Don't just s-say things like t-that!" He stuttered nervously. Seonghwa's eyebrows raised in amusement.

"I think you broke your boyfriend, sweetie." He said to you. You rolled your eyes and slid out of bed to go use the bathroom. When you were done, you and Yunho went downstairs to eat. Seonghwa handed you each a plate of food.

"Thanks, hyung/ Hwa." The two of you sat on the couch to eat, watching Wooyoung challenge Yeosang at some game. You held a spoon of food out to Seonghwa.

"I already ate." He shook his head, settling next to you.

"You're always hungry." You pointed out. Seonghwa sighed and directed the spoon back at you to eat it.

"Gosh, I'm so full. I'm not going to be able to eat dinner after this." You said as you ate the last spoonful of food from the plate. Yunho and Seonghwa both cast you a judgemental look.

"I know you two eat for 3 people but there's no need to be so judgey." You scoffed.

"Us? Judge you? Never." Yunho grinned and grabbed your empty plate with his to put in the dishwasher.

"Was thinking of doing pasta with steak night for dinner." Seonghwa said to you, putting his arm around your shoulder. You hummed and nodded tiredly, leaning your body against his. Wooyoung, who had passed the game controller to Jongho came over, squeezing next to you and laying on Seonghwa's lap.

"Ack! Woo! There's no space." You whined, being squished between his body and the back of the couch. He just grinned and snuggled closer to you.

"What about two sauces? One vodka sauce and one pesto sauce." Jongho suggested.

"Ooh, good idea. They both sound good with steak." Wooyoung replied, ignoring your attempted to push him off.

"You know, what? Yun! Please save me." You held your arms up. Yunho was there in an instant, reaching down to try and fish you out but Wooyoung held onto you.

"Woo, let me go!" You struggled.

"Never!" He declared. Yunho managed to slip his arms under you to lift you up bridal style and away from Wooyoung.

"Thanks for saving me." You chuckled as Yunho sat down at the couch where he and Mingi were, setting you down in his lap. Mingi laughed and waved to you, to which you waved back. Yunho kept his arms around you, kissing your temple.

"You know I'll save you any time." He murmured, nuzzling his head against your cheek. You laughed, hugging his neck and pulled him closer to you.

~

Series masterlist

[bonny-kookoo]

Hot Hearted request if it works...

MC convinces JK that going out and having a casual date is ok, but will wait for him to ask her first. He tries to think of something but ends up needing advice. And then date day happens and it is hilariously weird?

Jungkook has been panicking for the last two hours, frantically trying to reach any of his hyungs to ask for advice, but deciding against it out of pure embarrassment. Online research didn't help at all either, because it all states to have a date somewhere that's not home- but he can't go anywhere that's no his home.

So when he lets you inside, it feels oddly like nothing special is supposed to happen, even though he'd asked you on a date yesterday at his home. The apartment is lit by his familiar moodlights, lasers on the walls traveling. "I'm sorry-" He sighs, running his hands over his face. "I don't know what to do, and I pushed it to the last minute, and I didn't want to call anyone and tell them I don't know how to have a fucking date-" He rants, when you suddenly hug him from behind, his hands almost instantly reaching to hold yours where they sit over his abdomen, noticing how cold they are from the outside. You smell a little like rain.

"Hello to you too, yes, I'm very happy to see you. I'm doing well, and you?" You giggle, and he whines in complains, letting his head fall back while you laugh and let go of him. "It's fine. I could've brought takeout if you'd just told me you were overwhelmed with it all." You gently scold, and he shrugs, shuffling after you, no tension in his body.

"I'm sorry." he apologizes quietly.

"Let's call a delivery service then?" You chirp, finally having taken off your coat and shoes to sit down at his kitchen table, swinging your legs.

"But I wanted to cook.." He scratches the back of his neck. "If we just.. ring up delivery it's no different from usual." He says.

"It is." You shrug. "Usually we have sex right away and I leave after. So, it'd be very much different from usual." You note, throwing his past behavior right back into his face like cold water.

He cringes at himself. God what the fuck was wrong with him?

He knows by now that it was pure laziness. He just got too comfortable with the way things were going, his life of freedom still the same just with the added bonus of you- and since you never complained, he never questioned it either, even though he should have.

"I'm sorry-" Jungkook repeats, and you laugh.

"Stop saying sorry and call up some food, yeah?" You giggle. "No use in crying over spilled milk." You shrug, and he nods, searching for his phone to order something via an app installed, before he walks back to you. "Do you have something to drink?" You wonder, and he nods.

"What do you want?" He asks, and you just lean your head on your arms on the table.

"Something alcoholic." You hum towards him. "I wanna get a little tipsy." You joke.

Jungkook is a bit nervous. He can't remember a time where you've been even remotely tipsy or even drunk at all- should he stay sober then? Just to make sure you're alright. But won't it be weird if you drink alone?

"Jungkookie, don't stare at the beer, gimme!" You laugh, making grabby hands for it, making him laugh a little. How come he's never noticed how.. cute you are?

He really only knows you as calm, and quiet, and just.. yeah. Calm and quiet. Barely talking much. Always somewhat with your head in the clouds. But right now, right there, sits someone with sparkling eyes, full of life, full of emotions and warmth to give.

And as he pours you both a drink, food arriving a little later, he knows as he watches you with flushed cheeks and eyes full of love that he wants to cherish you just like that. Filled with color and laughing happily.

He never wants to see you so grey ever again.

[leathfaic]

"So what do ye eat then, when ye get the choice?" Soap is opening two bottles of beer handing one over to Ghost. He's clueless about what to cook for dinner, might as well ask Simon for some input.

"Chicken and rice. Or I order something." Ghost's tone is nonchalant as he studies the label of the beer he was just handed and Soap decides immediately that he's not gonna follow the plain suggestion actually. He's on leave and deserves some flavour in his food, thank you very much.

"Single malt whisky cask matured?" Ghost' sounds slightly disbelieving. "That is very Scottish.", or disapproving, who knew with the English.

So Soap just snorts, "Had to get ye some of the local stuff, eh? If ye behave ah'll make sure we get some of the beer with tea in for ye." 

At that Simon, who was sniffing his beer, looks up, pure horror in his eyes and Soap's snort evolves into a full-on cackle. 

He catches himself a moment later, inspecting the almost pouting look behind the mask and decides to drop the topic for now. Instead, he raises his bottle at Simon, "To leave, aye?".

Ghost does the same, their bottles clinking. 

"Cheers."

"Slàinte Mhath." 

Crisp and cold. Fuck he'd missed beer. Missed a lot of things during that last OP. Food that tasted like actual food was one, bringing him back to his original line of questioning. It shouldn't be surprising that Ghost is not into cooking. He's the only person Soap has ever seen eating anything from the mess with true enthusiasm. Sorts his MREs by how much he likes them too when he thinks no one is looking. Always eating the best first.

"Not much of a cook then?" he keeps his tone light and innocent while sipping his beer. Trying to observe Simon's reactions without making him feel watched.

"I can handle meat," There's a stupid smirk traded between them and Soap would roll his eyes if he didn't have to reign himself in, immediately set ablaze by the stupid joke.

"Learned at a butchers before I joined." Ghost offers up by way of explanation, sounding almost sad. Something must've happened there, something that had Simon ending up in the force. Something that led to him becoming Ghost.

"Well perfect, I'm not terrible but I do handle meat way better in the bedroom." Soap winks at him and this time, to make sure the innuendo lands painfully enough to pull Ghost out of his head. 

It does and earns him an exasperated look. Might have convinced him if those brown eyes weren't full of fondness. 

He's gonna leave Ghost with the belief that he's not learning to see behind the mask for a little longer: Wants him to feel comfortable. No need to divulge that his tone clearly betrayed that he's got no idea how to cook apart from putting some meat into a pan and put all his hope into some cook in bags. Lots of people couldn't cook, it wasn't a big deal.

Only that it is not just that. From the few things he's told Soap about himself, it makes sense, in a sad way.

Simon, who confronts being gay like being in battle, all hyper-masculine energy focused on fighting through all the hurtful stereotypes and insults his father planted in his head, probably never got to do a lot of things that weren't 'manly'. Makes him wonder where the needle skills come from but only for a split second before he decides he's gonna do something about this then.

"So what is yer favourite food then?" 

"Don't really 'ave one." the stoic bastard answers and Soap has to think about the MREs but also has no trouble believing that that is a luxury the other man doesn't allow himself to ponder. Thinks he doesn't deserve it.

Not that'll stop him. Quite the opposite, now he's motivated.

"Alright, anythin ye could be doin with right now?" 

He watches Ghost's eyes dart through the kitchen seemingly looking for a clue. Bouncing of cabinets and shelves before he takes a swig of his beer.

"No." he finally answers, sounding like he's withdrawing into himself again. For fucks sake.

Soap smiles at him hiding his exasperation away before it can reach his face, doesn't need his emotions to make this harder on both of them. 

"Well too bad, yer at ma mercy." He lets his smile dip into something devilish and revels in the note of alarm in Simon's lovely eyes. It's quickly replaced with confusion as Soap presses a knife into his hands. He stands there, looking for all accounts like a very misplaced ghoul. Very deadly but also kinda endearing.

"Ye can cut the onion, garlic, are chilis fine with ye? If so, cut two of those too and make sure ye wash yer hands after tha'. 

They work in silence for a moment, Ghost's dutifully following Soap's command without any complaints. When Soap begins to sear the meat he explains what he's doing and asks for input from Ghost. He's rewarded with warm surprise on the mostly masked features before Ghost starts talking, softer than his usual tone when he's guiding Soap through something job-related, becoming almost reverent when he sees Soap adjust to what he just said. And Soap tries to be careful with his usual ribbing jokes, not wanting to disturb the equilibrium that is Ghost relaxing in his flat.

When the other ingredients are added he takes over again. Talking the lieutenant through the process. Explaining his steps when he knows why they're important and freely admitting defeat when he doesn't. 

They drink their beers and cook, Ghost once more following every step that Soap lays out for him and Soap silently trying to impress him. Not that he was gonna admit that to either himself or anyone else.

"Who taught you all tha'?", they're just waiting for the pasta now, the sauce down and bubbling away on low heat, leaning against each other, Soaps head resting on Ghost's shoulder. Outright domestic. 

"Ma grannie," Soap smiles fondly at the memory of the tiny woman with her sincere blue eyes. "Told me being a lad was no excuse and Ah'd better know ma way around a kitchen for ma future burd." he winks at Ghost who goes surprisingly red surprisingly fast clearly visible even behind the mask. "When Ah told her Ah'm a buftie she doubled down. Ian she said, refused to call me John ye see forever angry tha' ma da went with the anglicised version, anyways, Ian she said if ye're bringing home another man one of ye will need to know how to cook or for all yer gay love ye'll focking starve." he can almost hear hear as his accent gets thicker and something between wild joy and bottomless sorrow tears through his chest at the memory.

There's a beat of silence before a weird noise breaks it. It's a rough quick sound and it takes Soap a second to realise that Simon just snorted. 

"Well thank fuck for grandma MacTavish and her foresight!" he pulls his almost empty beer bottle into the air dramatically and they toast again. 

Soap's smile is wide, imagining what his nan's reaction to Ghost would've been. 

They might have gotten on entirely too well. 

[biancadjarin]

🍸🍒Modern!Eddie x Waitress!Reader🍒🍺

Blurb featuring Modern!Bartender!Steve

It’s only a Thursday night but the bar is slammed. It’s your second day and the other waitress, your supposed “trainer”, is nowhere to be found. Probably out back smoking another cigarette. You’re juggling 6 tables and one particularly difficult woman just flagged you down.

“Is everything ok ma’am?” You ask politely. “No, this wine is way too sweet. I wanted something dry. Bring me the pinto grigio!” She says as she pushes the full glass towards you. You smile and turn, rolling your eyes as you approach Steve and Eddie at the bar. Eddie’s sitting on his usual stool, drinking a beer while he scrolls on his phone. You lean onto the sticky bar top and wait for Steve to finish shaking a martini to get his attention.

Eddie eyes your profile, your cute face looking overwhelmed and stressed. He’s never seen you before, he usually knows all the new waitresses here. Fuckin’ Harrington, he thinks, always tries to keep the cute ones for himself.

“Hey.” Eddie says over the loud music, leather covered shoulders angling towards you. His fingers tap around the neck of his beer bottle. You glance at him, one eye still on Steve.

“Hi. Look, I’m swamped, if you want another beer, you gotta ask your bartender.” “No, no, it’s not that. Just- are you ok? Do I need to grab a tray and help you out?” He asks jokingly. You crack a smile at that, and Eddie’s heart starts beating faster.

“Cause I’m serious, I’ll take over. Drinks probably won’t go to the right people and I’d end up spilling food but, hey, fuck it.” He says with a shrug as he gulps the last of his beer. You shake your head and laugh, “please, I think you’re better off right here. I’m fine…” your eyes stare into his for the first time and you swear you feel the ground get pulled out from under you. He’s criminally hot. Like sculpted by the gods hot. Long hair framing the perfect bone structure of his face, two dimples poked into his cheeks as he smiles back at you. His eyes are like warm cups of hot cocoa, sweet and comforting. His worn in Black Sabbath T shirt contradicts his new iPhone 14 shining back at him.

“I’m Eddie. I’m a friend of Steve’s.” He nods toward the floppy haired bartender. “Y/n.” You say as you reach out a hand to shake his. He grabs your hand but he doesn’t shake it. Instead, he just holds it for a second. His warm, guitar string scarred fingers encircling your soft, cold ones. You giggle nervously as the butterflies are shaken awake in your stomach.

Steve appears out of nowhere, “bruh these frat douchebags are going to be the death of me, I think my arm’s going to fall off if I shake another martini.” he says to you and Eddie. You smile your most saccharine smile, “hey Stevie. The woman on 22 doesn’t like this wine. Can I switch it out for a pinot?” He growls in annoyance, “that’s a 7 ounce pour, y/n. you think Tito is gonna be ok with me just pouring that down the drain?” He asks you, referring to the manager. He raises his eyebrows as he throws a towel over his shoulder.

You shrug, “I guess not…” you mumble. “It’s coming out of your tips. Go write it down on the spill sheet.” Steve snaps as he pours the pinot grigio. “Ok, I will. Sorry Steve.” You say as you take the wine and head back to your tables.

“What the hell, man? S’not her fault some bitch didn’t like the shitty wine in this place.” Eddie says as he tosses a peanut at Steve. “How else is she going to learn?” Steve says as he rests his palms on the bar top. “This isn’t a daycare, I’m not here to hold her hand through life.”

“She’s fucking new, Harrington, give her a break.” Eddie says. Steve opens his mouth to argue before being cut off by a guy in a polo. “‘Nother dirty martini, barkeep!” Steve nods at him before looking back at Eddie. “You want another beer?” Steve asks him before he goes back to deal with the group of Chad’s and Dylan’s. Eddie shakes his head as he throws a 20 on the bar, licking his lips and winking at Steve.

He looks around the bar to say goodbye to you but he doesn’t see you. Everyone seems content, drinking their overpriced cocktails, eating their greasy food. Even the woman with the wine seems happy. The other waitress is back but now you’re gone. He heads toward the back door to leave, passing the digital jukebox that the frat bros have taken over-trolling everyone with Nickelback on repeat, passing the bathrooms and the breakroom.

You come out of the breakroom wiping under your eyes, sparkles that were once in your inner corner now smeared down your cheeks. “Scuse me.” You say as you try to squeeze past Eddie. “Hey, hey.” He says, hand coming up to cradle your elbow. “You good?” His eyebrows crinkle in concern, eyes scanning your face. You nod and try to squeak out a “mhm.” but more tears are threatening to spill.

“Was it what Steve said? I told him he’s being too harsh on you. I’m gonna go tell him what a dick he is, making you cry.” He says as he starts to turn around. “No! Please, I appreciate it but it’ll just make it worse. I can’t mess up this job. I just need to do better.” You say, sniffling. “Really. It’s fine.”

Eddie sighs deeply, looking back over his shoulder before turning to face you again. “He needs to do better. You’re doing great.” Eddie says, fingers squeezing the exposed flesh of your arm. You smile, looking up at Eddie and admiring his features in the low light, an old beer neon sign casting shades of blue and red across his face. The tight hallway is made even tighter with boxes and extra chairs lining the walls. This close to Eddie you can smell the beer on his breath, the weed on his shirt and the Cherry Smoke by Tom Ford on his jacket. You smile, “Thanks..”

He nods softly, dimples returning as he matches your smile. His phone starts to vibrate, the opening notes of For Whom the Bell Tolls by Metallica ringing from it. He looks at it before silencing it and focusing back on you. “I gotta go but can I text you later? You can tell me all about why a sweet, beautiful girl like you needs a job at a shitty dive bar so bad.” He opens up a new iMessage and hands his phone to you. You type in your number and text “Eddie” to yourself.

He takes the phone back from you putting 🖤🍒 after your name. “If Harrington gives you anymore shit, you let me know, ok?” He says before leaning in to kiss your cheek. You smile and nod, all words leaving your brain. He laughs softly as he whispers how cute you are and he heads toward the door.

.

.

.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Evening Quiet

A Curtis x Honey Drabble.

1.5k What makes a house a home? The people.

Warnings- mention of sexual activity.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

Yes you were glad to be home. 

Vacationing was always nice, getting away to see someplace new was always exciting. Florida proved to be just what was needed to battle the winter chill with its sandy beaches and endless amounts of sunshine that for you and Curtis seemed a blessing. 

After battling the freezing ice and snow of Duluth, Florida’s weather seemed like summertime to the two of you. 

There were nights of firepit and beers in the backyard, lazing around on a yacht that Frank was currently working on, some shopping to be had, and the food, you were greatly missing the taco truck right about now. 

But all that said, you were glad to be home. Right now home wasn’t your third-floor apartment in downtown Duluth. It was curled up on Curtis' couch, watching a television documentary about a haunted house in Pennsylvania where the ghost team started talking about the history associated with the residence. Outside, big heavy flakes slammed against the window like they were trying to escape the cold too, but the clear glass on the picture window was keeping you and Curtis safe. 

Wrapped around your legs was the afghan off the back of the couch, Curtis’s hand was resting on the curve of your waist, his fingertips lightly grazing the bit of skin peeping from your pajamas you had spent most of the day wearing and nearby the small wood stove he used for the first floor chill was popping once in a while as the wood provided them with sleep inducing warmth. 

Your head was laid down on his thigh, the very motion of his fingers and the warmth under the blanket making your eyes slip close once in a while in complete blissful calm. 

It was settling in the way that this felt like where you were supposed to be at the end of your day. You didn’t even realize that the simple motion of letting your eyes close and give in to that feeling would make your breathing grow heavier and you completely lost track of the show. 

Curtis noticed though, because that last bit of tension seeped from you and finally you let yourself sink into his lap. He could feel the warmth of your breath’s sink into the fabric of his black jeans while sleep seemed to sneak up on you. 

He couldn’t resist letting his fingers slip further down, without any intentions other than to rub at your hip, the soothing sensation making you stretch a bit in a moan at the comforting touch he provided. His gaze stayed on the tv for the most part, being interested in the findings and history of the old homestead that actually reminded him of his own home. 

He wondered where his house's ghosts were wandering around tonight. He had heard a few creaks earlier on the stairs, which might be from the cold snapping the house's old bones outside, but it was easier to let himself think it was Wilford and Lillian appreciating what he was doing with their loved home. 

It certainly has all come back to life since you came into the picture. His weekends no longer consisted of him all alone, but you were there with your endless amounts of sewing projects and script rewrites for your drama club, working on your next science-themed project for your classroom, the scattering of your books from the living room to the upstairs nightstand where you never seemed to bring them home to finish reading and he never mentioned it simply because he liked to read them too before going to sleep. His little Honey had some erotic reading tastes that he fully intended to use on you. 

Like the recent chapter, he read the other night while you were back at your apartment gave a very detailed description of using paints in foreplay. He chuckled softly to himself imagining the painting the two of you would make, hung up for no one to know. 

His amusement with his thoughts must have woken you, cause you stirred just a bit, shifting to roll to your back and look up at him, blinking sleepily at him for a moment. “What’s funny?” 

“Oh, just thinking about how good you would look covered in paint while I was having my way with you.” Curtis said matter of factly while watching the ending of the show with his eyes half shut like he was also starting to fall asleep. 

You blinked at him a moment while his gaze drifted almost lazily down to where you were laid on his lap, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes giving away his amusement at the way your face heated up. Your brows twisted for a moment in thought as you clearly recalled reading something very similar. “Did you read my book?” 

A grin cracked on his face with a suggestive arch of his brows that said he clearly did and you gasped when he swooped down to steal a kiss from you. “Honey, you want me to kiss and tell?” 

You gave a teasing little snort as you went cross eyed staring up at him. “They are for educational purposes.” 

Curtis straightened back to a sit, his fingers dancing along your neck and massaging into your hair at the base of your scalp, it felt so good that you let yourself get slightly distracted by it. “Oh I know you are getting quite the education from it. I can’t wait to reap the benefits.” 

You again felt your face heating up, knowing exactly what things he read in your books. All the kinky little smut fests that had supposed plot lines leading up to all of them. Your hands covered your face with a groan, peeking up between your fingers. “You weren’t supposed to learn my dirty secret.” 

Curtis clicked the tv off, his features turning thoughtful at your words. “Why is that, were they something you didn’t want me to see Honey?” 

“No, no, I don’t care. I’m just shocked you even took an interest in my pile.” You gave a little shrug while giving a yawn and cuddling in closer, enjoying the quiet of the wood crackling in the nearby stove and the snow gently hitting on the glass. “But…” You went a bit quiet, trying to sort through the masquerade of feelings it brought up in you that Curtis wasn’t making some snide remark about your ‘porn’. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it if he was mentally filing away scenes from it. Curtis as usual was patient, not rushing you to spit out what you were trying to say. “I like that you saw them and you’re okay with them?” 

Curtis already knew what was on your mind, you had questioned him a few times about things that he honestly never would have thought about. That your ex was such a controlling asshole to you that you still worried about him actually being mad if you did something you thought he wouldn’t care for. His features softened towards you. “Honey, I am always going to be okay with whatever you choose to read and want you to. You don’t ever have to hide them from me. It’s like the toys, I encourage it.” 

Any apprehension seemed to melt away when you got that confirmation from him, moving to ease yourself up. Curtis's arms shot up in a stretch while giving a yawn. “But tonight, I’m crashing early so no smut reading for me. Gotta do snow cleanup before leaving for the yard in the morning.” 

Your hand reached out for his, helping him off the couch. “Meet you upstairs?” 

“Go on up, I'm just gonna tend this fire and make sure the house is closed up for the night.” He tugged you in close for a second to steal a kiss and then released you towards the stairs. 

As you started up the old creaky stairs, with the various pieces of artwork and old photographs of his family hanging along the hallway leading towards Curtis’s bedroom, your pile of sewing materials piled on the bottom step amid some of Curtis's clothes that needed patching, to the kitchen where you could hear Curtis opening the cupboard above the stove that held all your teas and honey, out of the corner of your eye you saw the cover of one of your books on the coffee table your boyfriend takes sneak peeks at as well as his reading glasses perched atop of the cover, this old house with its stories that you were starting to become a part of and the man who would follow right behind you because he always tried to do what he said he was going to do, these things were starting to feel like home more then that drafty old apartment you had crashed landed in after you restart your life to get away from your ex. 

This was becoming where your heart belonged.

[theresnoturningback]

Year 1 - Summer - Breakfast

THIS IS PART OF A SDV FIC SERIES I'M WRITING, FEEL FREE TO ASK ABOUT IT, NOTHING WOULD MAKE ME HAPPIER

A/N: So I wanted to explore Marnie being a protective tutor, she has a special place in my heart and she deserves so much better than Lewis oh god.

Anyways, as always I hope you enjoy reading, and if you do please please please consider reblogging.

This is not proof read by anyone else besides me, because I really wanted it out today.

Little warning: contains lots of angst, depression struggles, some violence and alcoholism derived issues.

Mornings at the Ranch are usually calm. Everyday Marnie gets up and helps Jas get ready. She wakes Shane up, oftentimes with some difficulty.

She understands the current state of his world is practically ruins. He hasn't been able to recover from the accident that left Jas orphaned years ago. Despite being evident, it's hard for him to admit that some days he needs a little push, so Marnie does her best to make his nephew understand he's not alone.

One day, trying to think of ways to help him get a healthy daily routine, she decided that at least once a week, she's going to wake up extra early to cook something special for her family.

Jas was especially happy about it when her aunt made her plum pudding or served her a slice of pink cake. Cake for breakfast was her idea of a perfect morning. Other days, she wasn't so stoked about the food on the table, particularly if it was scrambled eggs with a touch of spring onion or fruit salad, but those days she focused on enjoying the company of her family. Seeing his uncle Shane smile at her still half asleep made her entire morning.

Shane, on the other hand, could see Marnie's intentions behind those weekly morning feasts.

Every Saturday morning, he'd wake up to Marnie's knock on his bedroom door. Most of the time it'd take him a couple of minutes to open his eyes, sit on his bed and stretch. He'd put on some clothes and walk to the kitchen. There, he'd find the little family he still had left.

"Morning uncle Shane" Jas would usually greet him in a cheery voice "do you want some eggs? You can have them all if you want"

"Thanks, kiddo" he'd answer offering her a smile to let her know she was one of the few things that have kept him alive so far.

"How did you sleep last night?" Marnie would ask, already knowing his usual uninterested

"Same old, same old" He'd answer

They'd continue to eat their breakfast, enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence.

There were darker days, though. One particularly difficult morning was a specially hot Saturday. The summer sun woke Shane up with its rays shining from his window and directly into his face. He tossed and turned on his bed, trying to find an angle comfortable enough to keep sleeping but he ended sitting up, groaning in frustration.

If that wasn't enough, three knocks on his door startled him.

"Shane! Breakfast!"

He scratched his face, looking around his room; one big mess he tried to fix countless times. Eventually, he deemed this task pointless because sooner than later chaos always found him.

He reached down to a half empty can of beer and took a swig to ease the dryness in his mouth. He remembered Harvey telling him that his problem was just a consequence of heavy alcohol consumption during his annual check up. He chuckled bitterly at the irony before taking another sip. It didn't bother him it had gone completely flat overnight. A disappointing drink to celebrate a disappointing life, he thought.

Three more knocks on his door made him roll his eyes, fall on his back and push a pillow against his face.

"Shane" Marnie insisted "Jas is already eating and your coffee is getting cold"

"That's OK, I'm not hungry" he answered

Marnie sighed

"Please, you need to eat"

"I'll eat later, Marnie, go away"

Marnie looked at Jas, worried she might have heard it. Her niece looked back at her, smiling.

"Jas, darling, Miss Penny will be waiting for you. Go. Don't forget your pencils this time"

"Yes, aunt Marnie" the little girl ran to her room to get her supplies and left the ranch waving goodbye.

Once Jas left, Marnie tried a completely different approach.

"Shane, open this door. We need to talk" she said in that stern voice she hardly ever used "Now"

Seconds later, the door opened and the heavy air hit her in the face.

"I swear... Would it kill you to open a widow?" She asked looking around the cluttered space.

"I would have tried that long ago" he mumbled, turning his head away.

"I heard that, young man"

"I'm almost thirty, Marnie, I'm not a young man"

"Then why do you insist in behaving like a dumb teen?" She opened the windows to let the fresh air in.

Shane huffed and sat on his armchair with his beer can on his hand. She started taking out the bed sheets and putting them away along with a small pile of Shane's dirty clothes.

"Marnie, no-what are you doing? I was going to-" he hurriedly tried to stop her, afraid she might find something embarrassing.

"Then do it, I have a whole ranch to manage and I'm wasting time doing things that are entirely your responsibility"

Her words stopped him in his tracks. Did she really just say that?

"Nobody asked you to waste your time on me! Why are you always like this?" he yelled.

"Because I worry about you, Shane!" she answered, matching the volume of his voice. She took away the beer from his hands and held it to his face "THIS. This makes me worried" Shane was too ashamed too even look at her but she still searched for his eyes "you didn't think I haven't noticed all these around your room, or well hidden in the trashcan? How long do you think before Jas finds out?"

The sole mention of her goddaughter made him lash out.

"GET OFF MY DICK, MARNIE, YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER"

She interrupted his yelling with a slap across the face so hard, it made him lose balance. She stiffened up while Shane pursed his lips, trying his best not to cry.

"If that is the language you want to speak to me, that's fine. Let me put it into words you can understand: If you don't get your shit together soon, you will hurt Jas and I will not allow you to do that. She's already lost her parents and I will not just stand here seeing how she loses her godfather, too" She made him look at her and spoke in a softer voice "I might not be your mother but she gave me the responsibility of taking care of you and you have the same responsibility to Jas. I love you like you're my own son. You both are so young and gone through so much that I can't stand the idea of seeing any of you in pain, so please-" she sighed to hide the little break in her voice" please, promise me you'll get better.

Shane fell silent since she hit him. All her words made sense, of course, but he was too ashamed to say anything in return.

He nodded and finally looked at her, with tears in his eyes "I'm trying..." he whispered before she held him to help him cry "I'm really trying, but it's so hard, I can't...I can't" he sobbed onto her shoulder

"Oh, little one... of course you can. You're capable of so much"

She walked him to the kitchen. Shane sat down in his usual place and Marnie poured some fresh black coffee in his cup as he started eating his scrambled eggs

"I know you came to this town unwillingly at first, but during all this time you have met so many people that care about you. I've seen you with Emily and Sam. They're kind and fun and you seem happier when they're around , but you never really hang out much with them. Even Lewis asks about you sometimes... Imagine how much they can help if you'd let them in"

"What did you put in the eggs?"

Shane's question caught her off guard.

"Uh, just the usual, eggs, salt, a little bit of butter, oh! And some chili peppers to give it a little more flavor"

"I didn't know we had chili peppers..." he managed to say with his mouth full

"That new girl Dahlia from the old farm brought them. She's been around the valley giving samples of her first harvest"

"I've never seen her" he shrugged, washing down his meal with coffee "she's got good produce, though"

"She came here yesterday, right after I closed. You were at the Saloon, thats why you didn't see her, but I think you'd be good friends, she came here to ask about our chickens, but she's afraid she won't be able to take care of them. Maybe you could teach her?" she elbowed him with a giggle before she began to clear the table.

"Marnie, please" he sighed half amused, half annoyed.

"That's aunt Marnie for you" she kissed the top of his head while she passed behind him "don't you forget again"

"I won't" he mumbled into his cup, smiling to himself.

[jamiesfootball]

long time listener first time caller: if you're still in need/want/severe drought of prompts to CopeTM, may I request some holiday traumaversary hurt/comfort w rjk? love your work <3

@italicised-oh

hello and thank you @italicized-oh (now with corrected username. i hope. i rechecked your other message like five times so hopefully this goes to the right person).

I think I understood your prompt? I'm no longer sure I understand hurt/comfort when I'm writing it, because this turned out much sadder than I meant for it to be, but here we go! Have some platonic rjk, with holiday stuff, and also some trauma, and people caring about each other.

Warnings for emotional/verbal/physical abuse

"My mum once told me I ruined Christmas."

Roy quirked an eyebrow at her, but he didn't say anything in response.

Keeley wrung her hands around the bottle. The cold condensate from the glass clung unpleasantly against her pajama sleeves, dampening the fine silk.

"I was fifteen. I told her I wanted to go ice skating with my friends on Christmas morning and that we could do presents in the afternoon. She told me I was being selfish."

Keeley passed over the champagne. He knocked it back like the fat bottle weighed nothing more than a beer bottle. She couldn't do that. With the bottle half-full, she had to use both hands to tilt it back -- more than once she'd nearly sloshed it, her nose tickling with bubbles that threatened to churn out too fast.

"She was always on me about stuff like that. Wanting to go out all the time. She said I preferred my friends over her, and she was right. It was suffocating, living in that house."

Roy passed her the bottle back. She grabbed it with both hands, his grip steadying hers until the bottle was safely in her lap.

Between them, Jamie dozed the sleep of the exhausted.

Settled on the floor behind his couch with only a thin throw blanket between him and the wooden floor, his face was as peaceful as she could remember seeing him these past few months. With Roy's leather jacket tucked over him, gently lifting and falling with his breaths, she could almost mistake him for happy.

The snow outside reflected too much light for her to make that mistake.

The champagne settled uncomfortably in her stomach.

"I'm not saying I was perfect either. I know I started by telling her she was being unreasonable, but I know I ended up shouting at her that she was being a bitch -- that's what really set her off. Took the turkey out of the oven and dumped it straight in the trash. Banging plates around and making a big show out of getting rid of all the food she'd made. Told me that I was being ungrateful and that I had ruined Christmas, so there wasn't any point in celebrating was there? Then she called me a trollop and said that it was just her luck that she had a daughter who'd rather be getting fingered in the park rather than spending time with her mum."

"Jesus fuck." Roy turned towards her with his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

"Then I screamed that I hated her and I spent all of Christmas Eve crying in my room," Keeley finished. The snow continued to flutter to the ground in tiny snowflakes, that would then cluster to make molehills. The wet hem around her ankles could attest to that. Keeley chewed on her lip. Quietly, she set the bottle down. "Do you know what happened the next morning?"

"You called her something worse and set her bed on fire?" Roy suggested.

A giggle bubbled out of her throat. "No. No, the next morning I came downstairs, and she had made me pancakes. Fresh fruit, whip cream, chocolate chips, honey. She told me that she didn't want to talk about what happened -- that we should just forget it and start over. She spent the whole morning treating me like a princess. I didn't even think to ask about going out with my friends. Just told them the next time I saw them that she'd said no, and that was that."

Jamie's cheek was warm against her thigh. She brushed his hair away from his face. His hair was usually so soft, but between her fingers it felt brittle and dry.

She swallowed. "I get that it's messed up now. I mean, you've met her."

Roy made a noise that was both an agreement and an implied insult.

"But I didn't know how to say any of that then. It was like, I knew what she was doing was shit, and that my friends' mums weren't usually like that with them, but then she'd turn around and she'd be so nice, you know? I even had friends of mine who'd tell me they were jealous of how much my mum worried after me -- said that their parents wouldn't even notice if they were on fire. Said I should be grateful that she cared. After all, she could be way worse."

She couldn't take her eyes off of Jamie. She knew it was just her imagination filling in what her mind knew was there -- it was too dark to actually see the red handprint on Jamie's cheek. It was burned into her mind all the same.

"It's not that bad," he'd told her when she'd rushed over in her pajamas, called in for back-up by a Roy who was seething in the background. "Really. He's not even drunk anymore -- it could've been a whole lot worse."

Her breath felt weak in her chest. "But I didn't want something that was only okay some of the time. And I know now that I don't deserve that either."

Roy's hand gently covered hers where it rested on Jamie's head. Against her freezing fingers, he felt as warm as a brand.

"How do we get him to see that too, Roy?"

He squeezed her hand and offered, "We can go to his dad's house and set his bed on fire."

Keeley giggled, the laugh choking out of her louder than she meant.

Jamie shifted at the noise, turning trustingly under her palm.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds perfect," she whispered, trying not to ruin what little rest Jamie could get.

Roy ran his thumb against the back of her hand, and she imagined kindling trying to light a spark. Outside, the world was cold and quiet and dusted unpleasantly with snow. The two of them, with their hands locked over the sleeping gift between them, would have to keep warmth enough.

[applcrumbl]

Joy Rider

Just Friends

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader Warnings: Strong Language, Mention of abuse (no direct description, just in passing), Mention of ill mental health and suicidal thoughts, (again, only in passing), JJ just Pining over Reader. Word Count: 2K Author’s Note: please bare in mind that these are not chapters! You can read them however you like, skip the ones that don’t interest you etc. It’s okay not to read absolutely everything.

Summary: A glimpse into Reader and JJ’s friendship.

There is blue as far as she can see to one side, and the comforting scenes of Kildare island to the other. She can taste the salt from the ocean as it sprays her in its path up to the sandy shore. With it wafts the smell from the barbeque that her friends cook. She feels the cold water up to her knees, her inner thighs burning with friction from the board. Waves crash against sandy shores and the sound of gulls fly over her head. She sits on her board, back to the beach and once again in her own world.

It’s peaceful, relaxing, and exactly what she needs after a day out on the surf. The waves had died down now, so she only rocked gently on the water.

“Hey Reef,” John B shouts from the beach, tongs in hand like a proper BBQ dad, He calls louder, fighting against the sound of Kiara and Pope laughing, “Whaddya want? There’s a burger left?”

She doesn’t answer, not hearing the calls of her name from the coastline. 

“Y/N,” He tries again, to no avail, “Jesus Christ, will you go get her?”

“Why do I have to?” JJ asks, sipping his freshly opened beer, “I literally just dried off.”

“You’re still soaking wet.” Kiara deadpans, spooning coleslaw onto a paper plate.

JJ huffs and walks along the pier, handing his bottle to the girl before jumping off the end. He swims to her, hands clinging to her board for stabilisation.

JJ Maybank was a caring person, but never one that particularly showed it. He did everything for his friends, and would always be there for them, but he wouldn’t tell them that. He wouldn’t chase you up when you didn’t answer a message, but he would plan a stop past your house to invite you out. He wouldn’t specifically say to call him when you got home safe, but you’d know that you probably should. 

It was different with her, his twin flame, his best friend. They’d grown up together, she lived in the house next door to his. They were each other's first sleepover, first fight, first friend, first kiss - though She swears that hers was with Colton Ashby in the first grade.

She’d always been there, so there was no need for defensive JJ. She’d seen it all, and he’d seen all of her. Of course, there were secrets. She never knew how bad it got after his mother left, the bruises that littered his skin from the age of 13. He never knew about the nights she cried herself to sleep with the want to never wake up. But, neither of them felt like there was information lacking. They had one another, at any time, any place, any point.

He was more caring towards her than he ever had been towards the rest of the Pogues. And his opinions never changed when she moved from the cut to figure eight - despite his inherent hatred for the rich southern side of the island. He was happy that she’d crawled from the depths, and that her uncle had invited her to stay with him whilst her parents were gone. Gone where? Nobody knew. Yet she didn’t really care.

She was the glue that bound the group together. Without her, he never would have spoken to John B - much too territorial over his one best friend. If she hadn’t got her first job at Heywards, then Pope wouldn’t have been in the picture either. And even though he can’t quite remember how Kiara got involved, he’d happily put it down to her doing too. She was the exact definition of both a Kook and a Pogue.

He owed her everything, but she was the only person that he would ever let know that. But, even then his mouth kept shut.

“Foods ready,” he says, prodding her thigh on the open water, “time to come in.”

Her eyes don’t open, “Gimme 5 more Jayj”

“Dude, you’re literally turning into a prune,” he jokes, lifting her leg from the sea, toes wrinkled from the water, “Your age is finally catching up to the rest of us”

There were precisely 3 days of age between the pair of them, but JJ would never let her forget it. Probably because without her, then he’d be the youngest, and something about that just didn’t sit right with him.

“Stop, I'm gonna fall off my board,” She laughs, to which JJ makes a face, “Don’t-”

In one fell swoop, the blond lifts her leg higher, tipping over their buoyant aid, and knocking her into the water. She pops up from the depths, gasping for air.

He smirks, “I said it was time to go in”

The girl glowers at him, eyes thin and testing. She climbs back on the board and begins to paddle back to shore, leaving JJ in the sea.

“You can swim back yourself.” She shouts behind her.

-

“I don’t see what the problem is!”

“Of course, you don’t.”

“Then enlighten me, JJ.”

The Maybank boy scoffs, running his hand over an open jaw. “Colton Ashby?”

She doesn’t reply with words, instead an expression on her face. ‘Yeah, and?’ It reads, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide.

“He’s a Kook!”

“I’m a Kook?”

“You haven’t always been, you don’t count” He bats back her attempt to change the conversation topic, “I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Colton fucking Ashby. That is so dumb.”

Her eyes roll so hard to the back of her head that it looks as though they may never come back around again. “Oh my god!” She exasperates, “It is not dumb! It’s sweet, and I’m excited to go.”

JJ sits on her barely-made bed. Her family circumstance may have changed, and he uncle may have provided a new life for her, but nothing about the girl had changed. She was still the same messy teenager that she’d always been. She grabs the dress laid out on her desk chair. She was never one for dresses on a casual day, but that night felt special. She wanted to put in the effort.

“He was my first kiss, y’know” she points out, sliding into her bathroom to slip into her outfit. “It’s like a full circle moment.”

“First of all, he wasn’t your first kiss. I was. Second of all-”

“You were not my first kiss, stop saying that!”

“Uh, yes I was. We were 4 and sat on your old tyre swing.”

The bathroom door opens, and She steps out, clothes in hand. She dumps them in the hamper next to her. “I smell bullshit.” She sits at the vanity direct from the bed, watching JJ in the mirror. He takes in her floaty dress, almost shocked to see her ins something so, girly.

“I smell truth-shit” He tries to counteract but fails miserably. “So many women would kill to say that they kissed me. You should really jump on that. Maybe you’d get a better date than Colton Ashby”

She stops her lipgloss application to eye him in the mirror. “This is really bothering you.” She observes, smacking her lips together and reapplying the cap. 

“I don’t want my best friend running off with some Kook, just because he was her first kiss” He moans, throwing his body back onto her bed, “By that logic, you should be running away with me.”

‘Yeah and I’d bet you’d love that,” she replies, “Can you put this on me?

She holds out a necklace. Small, golden, expensive from afar. But, up close you could see where the colour was tarnishing, and the plastic seed dull. JJ had bought it for her 15th birthday. The first and only gift he’d actually bought her, not stolen. A cheap tourist shop shell pendant with a fake pearl in the middle. But she loved it.

And she was going to wear it on her date with one of the richest Kooks in Kildare.

JJ’s fingers struggle with the clasp for a while before it finally hooks to the small chain link. She adjusts the pendant on her chest, making sure it lines up perfectly with the V-neckline of her dress. She stands to observe herself in the mirror. “This is fine, right? We’re not going anywhere too fancy I think”

He can only stutter a response, still taken aback by the fact that she’s actually still going. Taken aback by the fact that she’s put effort into the way she looks, for him. There is a hint of jealousy too, but he swiftly ignores it. “Yeah, you, uh- You look great.”

“Man of many words, Jayj”

-

The date was fine, not that she was avoiding another opportunity to go out with the dark-haired boy, but not that she was gasping for one either. It was simply an experience that she had and one that she probably wouldn’t ask for again.

Colton was nice, he paid for their food, he picked her up and dropped her home. He even complimented her looks several times throughout the night. She was extremely flattered - but there was nothing else there.

You can really tell when you’re not into someone, because it doesn’t matter how kind they’re being, or attractive they are, or if you have boatloads in common, you will still only notice the negatives.  And they will still be made much bigger than they actually are. You will still ‘get the ick’

She hated the shoes he wore. They were too polished and clean. He had loose hair sticking from his gelled-back quiff. She didn’t like that he ordered wine for the table. He mentioned JJ’s necklace, and how it looked like it was a little past its prime. Albeit, this was his way of flirting - offering to buy her a brand new, more expensive one - but everything just rubbed her the wrong way. 

“So I doubt you’re meeting him again?” Kiara questioned, using the tree as an anchor to rock the hammock they were both laying in. 

“Yeah, definitely not.” She sighs, “Should’ve kept him as my first kiss and no more”

“JJ will be happy then.” Pope pipes up from the camping chair next to the hammock. His flat-brimmed cap was pulled down over his eyes to shield him from the sun.

Kie shoots him a look with her eyes that Y/N misses, it’s a shock that Pope catches it.

“How do you mean?”

Pope stutters, ”I just mean that he’s quite territorial,” His words are danced around, like he has more to say - but won't, “He likes his time with you, and a boyfriend would take that time away.”

She exhales through her nose, “Yeah, I suppose.”

A loud smash erupts from inside The Chateau, causing the three to jump. John B shouts out not to worry, and that JJ had just dropped a mug. They return back to the conversation.

“Man, that’s Y/N's favourite mug - she’s going to kill you” John B continues, directly to his friend, “You’re supposed to be courting the girl, not pushing her away”

“I’m not courting her, we’re just friends!” JJ exclaims, kneeling to pick up the broken shards of ceramic. Though John B was right on one thing, this was Y/N's favourite mug. “I’ve literally known her my whole life, it’s not like that”

“Are you sure? Cos, her date pissed you off a whole lot”

“Ashby’s just a dick. She can do better.” He explains, “Besides, the date didn’t even go well. She told me.”

A horn honks twice from outside, catching John B’s attention. He looks through the dusty panes of the window to see who it is.

“Is that why he’s just come to pick her up?”

JJ pushes past him, eager to get a glimpse from the window. John B laughs at him as Kiara climbs into the passenger seat of her mother’s car. JJ kisses his teeth, “Ha. Ha. Funny”

“Y’know for someone who is strictly friends with the girl, you sure care a lot about her being with anyone that isn’t you.”

A feminine voice calls his name from outside, and JJ jumps at the opportunity to answer it, practically sprinting outside at her back and call.

“And will jump to her every move.” He observes, speaking only to himself.

masterlist | taglist

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Love is eternal even in sin

warning : angst, hurt/comfort, minor blood, imprisonment, no use of Y/n

Summary : Only one man has returned from Demeter, a man the first mat with a corpse in his arms. But what if she is not dead, that this cruel curse had gotten her. Was it possible that even in this madness they could still find each other in love?

Info : So another work for Wojchek this man is full of angst but that is what I'm here for so hope you like it ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night had fallen over London. The people of the city slept soundly in their beds, snuggled together to keep warm when the fire in the fireplace threatened to go out. The ships in the harbor were all docked, the captains slept in their bunks and the crew enjoyed beers in the bars while still partying a little.

Everything except the Demeter, the beautiful risky familiar ship that had already made hundreds of trips. But no one came from this ship except for one man, a man who had a look of death in his eyes. He had looked to the edge of the water and saw only hell.

The hell that manifested itself in his arms as he carried what appeared to be a corpse from the ground wrapped in cloth and varnish so as not to show it. But as soon as he disembarked, the coins of the ship, now a ghost ship, had been holed up in the dark narrow alleys of the basement apartment for years, but it didn't matter.

What did matter was that there was a lockable room in the cellar, a former cold room with an iron door to keep the food that was once stored there fresh. Something he needed and had to have otherwise he would unleash the horror on the inhabitants and lose them his heart forever.

A bond ima had formed over the death of the vampire became a love for another life that he could not and would not give up after death. But that was the reason why he was hurrying through the dark streets of the city, two baskets moving under his cloak, something moving inside.

The merchants and black marketeers always had something they had to get rid of at the end of the day, even the damned children could get him what he needed for her.

Unlocking the door to his small apartment with the old key, the wood creaked under his feet, ,,I'm back darling," he murmured, knowing she was always waiting for him stronger than he could ever be as he closed the door behind him, drew the thin old curtains in front of the small window and dimmed the light from the oil lamps.

Taking off his coat and cloak and throwing them on the small wooden table, he made his way down to the cellar. Down the stairs it got darker and only the light from above helped him to find his way.

But he managed to do so since they had docked and he had disembarked, several months had passed and she was still there. ,,Please...get away from the door," he called out in agreement as her footsteps moved away from the door and she retreated into the darker part of the room. He used the key to open the door before looking into the darkness.

Saw that she had left the only light of the oil lamp on dimly while the candles and the rest were extinguished. ,,It must have been too bright outside today, huh?" he asked softly, trying to swallow the pain as he always did and try to make it better.

,,Yes," she replied curtly and rose from the bed slowly and weakly, the day had been more exhausting than usual, even though there was no daylight coming in, the noise, the blood and the light shining on the apartment weakened her.

,,I'm always here...I brought you something...your favorite things," he said, a smile flitting across her pale lips, once a beautiful shade of pink, as she came to him slowly, as if she barely had any strength, he handed her the basket.

Saw gratitude flash in her increasingly milky eyes but at the same time sadness. ,,What's wrong pearl...I can go too" he called her by her nickname she was his beautiful special pearl his beautiful mermaid his one and only.

He had seen her eat and seen what she had done to the room and even though they had cleaned up together, it was still a bloody mess. But when her ice-cold hand gripped his and a ,,No, stay!" came from her lips, he knew that she was afraid for him and herself, as she was every day and every night.

Afraid that one day she would lose herself and kill him. ,,Please Wojchek don't leave me alone...all this I need you" she admitted seeing the tears in her changed eyes as she slowly pulled him into the room casting the light like a holy glow on them both.

She gave him a grateful smile her cold dead hands caressing his cheek. He leaned towards her touch, he missed the warmth she had given him but he was grateful, indeed he was grateful to this Satan, the Count, that she was still alive.

That she was still with him. As he sat down on the wooden chair and she moved a little further away from him, he saw her turn a little away from him, as she did every night.

She pulled out one animal and vial after another and opened the cork to drink the fresh, still warm blood. Wojchek himself tried to distract himself with his pipe to get the nicotine into his body as he imagined what it would be like when she was first back in order. But he knew.

Since the doctor's death and the late addition of fresh blood to her infected body, he knew it was too late, that it was a futile race against time with his love. That one day when he went down here she would kill him out of hunger, madness and at the command of the vampire Dracula.

His wife knew that one day she would belong to him, the night to the creatures and would forget herself. Forget her lovely Wojchek. ,,I'm done," she said in a whisper and gave him back the empty baskets, trying to wipe the blood from her hands and mouth with her handkerchief before she needed a moment.

As he gently placed his hand on hers, she saw that the color had returned to her cheeks, her lips had regained their lovely pink and her eyes no longer looked blind. ,,Darling, you look so beautiful," he praised her, always complimenting her when she ate, always giving her hope to overcome his own hopelessness.

She stood up and came to him, he got up from the chair himself and took her in his arms, ignoring the blood that was still slightly visible in the light as he slid down the wall with her, leaving them both sitting on the floor.

She turned to him he gave her a gentle kiss tasted her warmth and sweetness ignored the blood always did. He held her, his fingers tracing soothing circles over her slowly warming body. As she laid her head against his chest, they both heard his heartbeat, knowing that it soothed her even before the tragedy happened.

He kissed her on the head, held her and began to talk about his day, pretending that she had been waiting for him upstairs as always. He talked until the sun rose again and the city was bathed in warmth and he felt her getting tired and he held her a little longer until she fell asleep in his arms.

He carefully picked her up in his arms and laid her on the bed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. ,,Sleep well my love," he whispered, giving her one last goodbye kiss before he went out again, closed the door and went upstairs into the now already well-lit room.

He knew it was going to be a sleepless day, a day of searching the libraries and newspapers for ways to reverse this curse, this disease. Because he knew he would go to hell himself to this lord if it meant that his wife was freed to see him again and sail with him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@oceansrose2002 , @magmabayvi , @minilev , @ebiemidnightlibrarian , @mask-knife-is-buggys-girl , @arson1893

[puff-cat]

Here’s a prologue, of sorts! Some writing will come from this AU, hopefully actual chapters but at the very least little snippets and scenes. Writing gods lend me ur strength.

***

By the time Kaiba finally left the hospital, leather bag slung over his shoulder and white doctor’s coat draped over his tall, thin frame, the full moon was high in the inky void of the night sky.

As he walked, alone, through street lit dimly by flickering streetlights, long fingers pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. Shaking one out, he returned the pack to his pocket in favor of retrieving a lighter. It was an old thing, dented and tarnished, shine remaining only around the flint wheel and the engraving on the side that had been lovingly worried by cold fingers over many, many years.

Smoothly, Kaiba lit the cigarette and brought it to his lips. It was a long-lived habit, one he had never managed to give up despite the futility of the practice. Or perhaps that was precisely because he continued. The thin stick between his fingers provided some sort of nostalgic comfort to him, but none of the harm usually associated with such a vice. Still an addiction, of sorts. But a victimless one.

It had been a long shift, as those on the full moon always seemed to be, in hospitals. Patients acting oddly, unexpected trauma cases, even the computer systems seemed unwilling to cooperate. Were he but a simple man, Kaiba might have been utterly exhausted by it all. But he was not a simple man.

Under the moonlight, deep sapphire gave way to crimson as the contacts that masked Kaiba’s true appearance during the day were finally burned away by the natural venom that flowed through his body. They never lasted long, the contacts. 12 hours at most. It was something he had to keep a decent stockpile of. But fleeting as the effect was, it allowed Kaiba to walk among the masses relatively unquestioned. Certainly one benefit of choosing to adapt to modern technology, rather than scorn it, as many of his ilk tended to.

Kaiba exhaled a swirling breath of smoke into the night, continuing his walk. He was nearly at his destination now, and he began to pick up on the tell-tale smell that accompanied his ‘night job’. The homeless people scattered amongst the abandoned alleys in this forgotten corner of the city paid Kaiba no mind as he passed them, heels of his oxfords clicking on the dilapidated concrete, deftly avoiding puddles of stagnant water and abandoned litter. The glow of buzzing neon signs, advertising everything from cheap beer to topless girls lit his way, but Kaiba could traverse this path blind and backwards, if he needed to. It was one he knew well.

Finally, he came to an inconspicuous, unmarked staircase, hidden next to a restaurant that looked open but in fact had never once served food to anyone. A single sigil, splashed crudely onto the inner wall of the stair in fading paint was hardly noticeable, except to those looking for it. Kaiba stubbed out his cigarette on the wall, letting it fall carelessly to the ground, before ascending.

At the bottom of the stair was a single door with a faded brass handle. It turned soundlessly in Kaiba’s hand, and when he slipped past the threshold, he was greeted by a smoky hallway covered in faded, peeling wallpaper, and a singular figure seated at a desk at it’s end.

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

If all of this is at Kurt and Courtney's house. I can see Kurt not wanting to get out of the bedroom at first...

(I smoked and my idea escalated... I have no clue what this is. I was the anon who talked about wanting fanfic about it all at first so shoutout to @that1bvbfan for the BBQ idea and everyone else sending in ideas. I don't write fanfiction and I do not want anyone to expect anything in the following. I tried to incorporate a lot of what all of you said including some breaking bad references. English is not my first language, it's like 2am and juat smoked be kind to me)

After a while Mike wonders about Kurt's absence. He asks Courtney about it. Drink in hand Courtney dissappears for a while and returns with her husband. Whatever happened behind the closed bedroom door remains a mystery to their guests. However they were content with keeping it that way; especially with both Kurt and Courtney seemingly in high spirits.

The couple quickly makes themselves comfortable on their patio furniture. While the two loved hosting, neither Kurt nor Courtney were known for their cooking skills. With some even fearing for their lives whenever Courtney entered a kitchen*; it usually was up to the other group members to provide food. Not that this was a big issue though. Especially Jonny loved to cook at any given event. His journey into the culinary world started with beverages. Last summer him and Mike build a little brewery in their garage; leading to a newfound passion in the younger Greenwood brother. Much to Mike's dismay, Jonny did not end up brewing any beer. Rather than anything alcoholic at all, he started brewing his own gingerale called Grünwaldbräu.

Even at this very BBQ Jonny stands by the grill flipping patties and sipping his own ice cold Grünwaldbräu. As Jonny takes another sip, he can't help but wonder how he ended up in a place like this. His new group of friends being made up of the most enticing group of junkies anyone could ever imagine. Mike and Courtney were always jokingly referring to each other as sisters, even long before he ever came into the picture. Courtney was even in Mike's band for a short while. Being friends with Courtney must leads to intresting people in your life. The proof of it was right in front of him on a patio. Just when Jonny got lost in the smoke coming from the patties his thoughts got ripped out of his mind when he heard a familiar laughter. It was Layne's.

Layne came into Jonny's life about 9 months ago the same way a lot of weird things in his life did. His older brother Colin. It's just that usually these things didn't have blonde dreadlocks and a goatee. Colin met Layne at a show and the two talked on the phone every night for the next few weeks. "I fell in love with every beautiful and grotesque word", that's what Colin likes to say. Jonny had to chuckle when he flipped a patty as the blonde singer asked "who the fuck orders a pizza to a BBQ? No for real there is like a pizza delivery dude at the front door. Dude looks like a rat. That's some Ninja Turtle stuff right there!" Ahh yes... The most beautiful words "pizza delivery dude at the front door".

Slowly someone raised their hand. With a sheepish grin Kurt explained...

"Didn't know if I'd ever come down you know?"

"Well except for the pizza!", Layne laughs. As the two were high-fiving Jonny couldn't help but notice how close the two blue eyed men were...

"Hey Mike... how do Kurt and Layne know each other again..?"

*(during the recording of in utero Courtney visited Kurt in the studio. She wanted to cook a roast. The band unplugged the oven ans acted as if it was broken

hoooooly crap

[sambadecomboscribbles]

Captain college au

Chapter 2

Chapters: 1/2

Either a little too High

There was an odd feeling of calm in the realm of dreams. One he’s familiar with and yet one he’s forgotten in those long long long years since his camping adventure. Fresh pine smell and cedar wood feels like a memory now as he long since left his child years behind. Sunken in the lake of Lake Summer Camp Camp. Nestled next to Atomic Ava and the Salamangler, in the murky, muddy depths of the lake.

He felt weightless, floating in a void of echoes of memory as his brain scrambled to catch up to his slow moving body. He didn’t feel too alarmed, almost like his body was made of cherry jello. The world around him, felt cold, like the cold side of your pillow at night when you turn it over for some semblance of comfort. Ice cold ice cubes in your Diet Coke, splashing around the brown liquid like floaters on a river or pool.

He slowly blinked, allowing his eyes to wander the realm of dreams, tracing each star in that dark void as if his life depended on it. That the light would shield him from whatever horrid nightmare would come his way to kick him a new one. It was nice. It was calm.

It was.

But nice things can’t last forever.

He closed his eyes, opening them to reveal his dorm room. The broken Christmas lights hang above his head, flickering. Beside him was Billy, hand shoveling buttery popcorn into his mouth and taking swigs of root-beer from the 2 Liter bottle. On the Tv was a mess of swirls, unable to be perceived by his minds eye but it seemed to be a horror movie, judging by the harsh red light it cast on the room.

Melvin sat in his favorite chair, the fabric was old and rubbing off slightly due to them getting it from a thrift store but Melvin loves that old thing regardless of it’s very visible personality. He was writing away in his notebook, pencil scratching against the paper like chalk on a chalkboard. The sound amplified by 10s and 20s in his ears and yet sounded echoed and slow.

It hurt.

And then there was George, sat snug on one of the kitchen chairs, munching away at their food that they have prepared and pilfered from the fridge. The plate shined like a headlight in the dark room, illuminated by the moonlight and red blazing light from the TV.

“….” Words died in Harold’s mouth, stuck to his teeth like dry cement in Newly carved out squares. He was confused, it wasn’t time for George to visit yet. Though, he didn’t mind seeing his brother in the flesh, having missed them a honey-Bunches of oats. Harold slowly snuggled up next to Billy, breathing in the others scent of wood polish and expensive cologne.

Billy.

He loved Billy with everything he had. More so. Billy had only recently came into his life and ever since then, Harold has been on Cloud-9 whenever with them. He didn’t understand how to put it into words, he’s not the writer, but he did try to paint his feelings. Albeit, he ended up with a abstract mess of pinks and reds and purples, littered with grooves of dried layers of paint which now sit gathering dust on their wall. He liked the painting, so did Billy. His eyes scan the painting, soaking in each splash of color and watching the colors bend and swirl as his minds eye registered the colors.

You could get lost in those swirls.

Better stay with us soldier.

Was unsaid yet cut through the sleepy haze like a knife. Harold frowned, right, something was wrong. He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes free of multicolored gunk. He pulled himself up from the couch, standing on sleepy legs and yawning loudly. Arms stretching and popping.

“Harold? You goin’ to get some more popcorn?” A soft voice spoke, hints of accent in its words and yet sounded like butter in the mess of echoed sound to Harold.

“Ah… y-yeah, Bills.. you want anything specific?” He replied, turning to look at the other. For some reason, he couldn’t place their face in the fog of multicolored delirium his brain produced.

“Mmmmm… how about that extra buttery popcorn? It’s always morally acceptable to drown your popcorn in butter…” He chuckled, smiling at Harold one more time before turning to watch the tv once more. He swiped away a bit of popcorn crumbs, sending them to the floor to be swept up later.

Harold nodded, moving into the kitchen at a snails pace. He didn’t know why he was so slow, must still be waking up he figured. He made his way to the cupboard, pulling out two bags of popcorn and pulling out the butter oil. If there’s one thing the house did well, it was making popcorn and other snack foods.

He popped the corn into the microwave, pressing the shining numbers to get a nice easy flakey pop and waited by the microwave. He closed his eyes once more, leaning against the fridge. He could hear the others from the living room speak, their voices blending together, laughing, cracking jokes and yet to him, each voice he knew by heart. So much so, he could never forget them. The microwave dinged and Harold went to gather his spoils of war, warm crispy popcorn. He held the bags in his arms, the radioactive heat warming his chest and stomach.

Yeah, he knew those voices.

Even that new voice.

Wait.

His eyes open, immediately turning to face the direction of the living room, the red light shining against the table and wall and yet not hitting him.

So close and yet.

“Hahaha! That’s wonderful sidekicks!!” A joyous voice rang out, a voice so familiar it hurt.

A voice so lost he almost didn’t recognize it. A voice he missed so fucking badly. He could never forget that voice. He never wanted to forget that voice. He wouldn’t let himself forget that voice.

His legs wouldn’t move, no matter how hard he struggled, trying to force any movement towards the red light. Towards the happy voices. Towards them. Cmon! Cmon dammit! He’s right there!!! Just MOVE!!

Just! Fucking! Move!!

CAP-

…

And just like that? The light vanished. The voice vanished. He vanished. Once again. Leaving him in darkness, holding the burning bags of food. The steam clouding around him, making the room reek of burnt popcorn and oil. The smell making his pounding head hurt more. The weight on his chest felt suffocating.

The ringing of the microwave timer cutting through the darkness like a knife, the beeping in his ears like bugs crawling, the noise, stinging in his mind as the noises became louder.

Too loud.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He closed his eyes. The bags burning his skin through his baggy shirt, the beeping in his soul. The overwhelming feeling of despair. He slowly sank to the floor, cradling the burnt bags of popcorn in his arms. It was too warm. Too loud. Too sad. He didn’t know how to express these emotions in words. Words that mattered. Words that he could be proud of. Even now, he struggled to put them into words.

He couldn’t think.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

‘Wake up.’

Beep. Beep. Beep.

‘Harold, wake up.’

Beep. Bee-

‘Wake up!’

His eyes opened, wet. A faint taste of salt on his tongue. He breathed out a heavy breath, one almost a sob. He sat up, hands curling around his face as a sigh escaped him. He hated waking up like this, it was starting to become a daily occurrence. His mind playing mean pranks on him, one’s he knows are fake and yet he knows dreams. He’s experienced the realm of dreams. He knows they can be as real as reality.

A orange blob made its way infront of his face. A handkerchief. Melvin’s handkerchief. Harold sniffled, reaching out and grabbing the orange cloth with a slightly shaking hand. Dabbing away at the tears on his face and the snot on his nose. He blew into the cloth and passed it back to Melvin. “Thanks Melvin…”

“Yeah. No problem.” Melvin replied, a disgusted look on his face as he held the cloth away from his body like it personally offended him. “I also have your meds and juice for you. You didn’t wake up so I let you sleep in.”

“You didn’t have to do that Melvin.” Harold replied, slowly moving to stand from his blanket nest. He stretched, letting out a loud yawn. He didn’t like waking up early but he couldn’t exactly see himself sleeping after that nightmare anyways.

“Oh shut up, it’s the least I can do.” Melvin spoke, setting them down on the bedside table. “You have about 3 hours to get ready for school.”

“Okay, MOM.” Harold teased, smiling at the other. And with that, he took the pills with a chug of fruit juice, finishing off the glass with nary a break and set the cup on his table.

———

There was many things to see in Piqua.

Piqua had a reputation of being one of the weirdest cities in the tri-state area. Due to the rampant supervillain shenanigans and the overwhelming damage costs to contain them or fix whatever damages happened due to heroes being knocked around, many folks didn’t tend to book vacations to Piqua often.

But others? Come flocking to Ohio to see some sighting of a villain or the superhero currently keeping the streets safe. Tourists are always welcome but heavily warned of the damage that can be caused and the danger of staying in Piqua.

One such tourist, now turned resident heeded the warnings and decided to stay.

Ruth Reese, a Candy and confection chef that decided to open his shop in the heart of Piqua. After hearing about the overabundance of tourists visiting the city, Ruth decided to set up shop a year after visiting. Plus, a change of pace was exactly what the doctor ordered and what better than opening a candy shop?

Life for Ruth had been rather boring before opening their shop. Washington air held heavy over their tired lungs as they ached for a new change of pace. Working in accounting with a side candy business being run out of their dingy apartment didn’t exactly work the best. But hey, people liked it. Even encouraged Ruth to run run run far away and open a shop. Someplace small, cottage small of a home and scouring the ads for places out of state, just so happened to have Piqua, Ohio. Superhero hotspot and never a dull day in your life plastered on the information here guide. Almost like it was taunting itself and it’s trend of bad luck turning into even bigger bad guys the local hero has to take down.

But.

The shop was well received on the day of opening and ever since then, life for Ruth had been peaceful. As peaceful life can be in a hub of superhero business which rears its ugly head on the regular. Ruth spent their day opening the shop in the wee hours of the morning. Stocking shelves, cleaning the windows and restocking various stands with lollipops and taffy made in house. It was a calm few hours before lunch rush and restocking regulars with refills of their treats.

But for Ruth? Nothing felt better.

Right now, they leaned against the wooden step stool, carefully placing each freshly wrapped piece of taffy in their correct stand. Lining up Peeps, Hard candies and more in their correct order, Ruth was meticulous in their organization. Like a general preparing an army for war. Never was one piece of candy out of place on his watch.

“And there we go…!” He said, a warm smile on his face. He slowly stood up, patting his apron free of any debris which fell from stocking. “Looking great Ruth! Well done!” They stood a bit away, gazing at their work with warm eyes.

Ding!

The door chimed, alerting Ruth to a customer.

But he didn’t open shop for another few hours.

“….” Ruth wiped their hands off on a wet washcloth, moving to approach the door. “Ah, hello! Goodmorning! We actually don’t open for another few hou-“

“Ah, hello. I am looking for a very specific piece of gum!!” A cheerful voice spoke, one aged in spite and yet held a heavy accent. “I was vondering if you’d have any in stock!!” They continued, stalking the shelves of the candy store with a cat like precision.

“Ah… what type of gum exactly? I make some in house and I order some…” He replied, a tad confused but he didn’t want to upset the customer. It’s bad business. Even if the customer looked… odd. There was a feeling of unease in the store, almost suffocating In it’s looming dread.

“It’s very rare! So rare in fact! Every store I’ve tried didn’t have any of it!!” The customer lamented, grabbing hold of one of Ruth’s prized sugary soldiers in their metal claw’s grip. They tossed each piece around, like a man who had no remorse. Which, wouldn’t be too inaccurate. Tossing gum and candy around, chewing on some ‘free samples’ which, weren’t labeled might we add. What a jerk. “I’m rather upset you see!! I simply need my gum and I’ve naught found any trace of it!!”

“W-well… I’m happy to find what gum you need… I-if you’d please stop damaging my displays.” They spoke, a rather sharp yet polite tone in their voice. Now, Ruth was a rather patient man. Has to be in this city, but this guy was getting on his nerves. He didn’t yell much, rather not wanting to yell in the first place. But lord forbid he has a chance encounter with a Kevin.

“Can you tell me at all what this gum’s brand name is? I can check my computers database for any trace of it sir!” He tried, a nervous and tired smile on his face. He made an attempt to make his way to his desk, peppermint painted railing warding off any customers from the backroom.

Ruth spent ages painting that railing. Each loving stroke of red ruby paint and pristine white Detailing took hours. Filled to the brim with the hope for a better life in Piqua. One spent not suffocating under a corporate job.

It took them hours.

Years. Metaphorical years. Not actual years.

But it took seconds to break it.

There was a feeling of burning in his chest as something slammed into the back of Ruth’s back. Sending the candy chef stumbling and breaking through the railing and onto the decorated floor. Painted sprinkles and smiles greeted their fall like a mockery. Their head knocked against the side of the desk, a groan escaping the man as he looked up at what his mind perceived as the devil. Two large horns, an evil smirk. “No Zank you! Im thinking of making the gum myself! After all! If you want something done right! You’ve got to do it yourself!!” The man… No. The THING said. “I hope you have good insurance.”

….

There was screaming from inside.

A pained, agonized scream mixed with gurgles and cries sounded in the empty street as a man happily walked out of the store. Bag of treats in hand and happily munching away at the handmade treats. “Man! Zhis taffy is amazing! What a shame!! I mean seriously, how hard is it to make proper taffy zhese days?!” He hissed. The building behind him crumbled into a fleshly, pink mass of a candy and confectionery creature that certainly won’t cause issues in a later chapter.

Oh well, I’m sure that’s not important.

[hunting-songs]

The party of the Human Parts Collectors seemed to have a quiet night, beyond the acrimony that existed between some Dons, the occasional argument that ended easily when the maids delivered a glass of liquor or food. Until now, there was nothing really stopping it from developing normally.

Kurapika looked around the room for Senritsu but he couldn't find her: it was a sea of people dressed in suits, pretending and showing off, but he couldn't find her. Making his way through the people, Kurapika leaned with his back against a wall and scanned the place with his eyes again. From this new vantage point, he finally found her and smiled softly.

That small smile only lasted a moment until he noticed what was happening. For a moment, just for a moment, Kurapika felt insecure, he felt a little jealous. Then he closed his eyes, shaking his head in silent scolding at himself. You're better than that, Kurapika, you're much better than that. She loves you, she's just having fun, there's nothing to worry about, nothing bad is happening.

However, there was one small gesture, one small detail that he couldn't miss: Senritsu was tapping her fingers on the wall behind her back, and he's seen her do that several times when she was uncomfortable or trying to calm herself down.

"There you are, darling" Approaching them, Kurapika wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her towards him, completely ignoring the other person's presence. His other hand rested on her cheek, making her lift her face slightly to lean towards and rest his forehead next to hers, brushing his nose with hers in a soft loving gesture "I made reservations at a restaurant near here for when the party is over. Why don't you wear that dress that I like so much?" The hand on his waist tightened gently and he finally turned to look at the other person, with an innocent expression as false as the smile of many there. "Oh, I'm sorry darling, am I interrupting something?" The innocent expression quickly turned into a sharp, cold, dangerous look, which made the other person back away slowly until finally leaving in a hurry, almost as if were fleeing from a predator.

Only when the other was gone, Kurapika blinked once, twice, three times before turning to see Senritsu. "I'm sorry, Senritsu, maybe you didn't want me to interrupt? I just thought I noticed that you were uncomfortable but maybe I misinterpreted the signals. My apologies" Now his tone, instead of false innocence, it was sincere concern

My muse is being hit on by someone they aren't interested in and are visibly uncomfortable. Send, "there you are, darling" for your muse to come and wrap their arm around mine's waist to guide them away.

To be able to listen to heartbeats as loud as words was sometimes useful when she needed to find a lie, sometimes precious when she sat togetehr with her colleagues in the evening with a after-work-beer ad their heartbeats syncing up in a comfortable sleepy humm, and sometimes terriefying just as it was int his moment when the stranger leaned a elbow against the wall over hr head and said the most sweetest compliment while his heartbeat sounded as if he was looking at a piece of cheap meat that was her in his eyes. Senritsu knew that attraction was not always bound to looks and she knew that some people were attrated to her, but what she heard in the strangers heartbeat to which she smiled up politely while her fingers tapped a quiet, calming melody against the wall in her back to keep herself at ease, was not attraction to her but hunger for beeing able to act from a higher position towards a bodyguard like her on a lower place in the hiearchy. But what she heard was the melody of someone who was hungry for violence against someone who was beneath them. But what she heard was not attraction, it was lust over showing power over the fact that she could not just politely excuse herself.

She smiled when Kurapika walked towards where she was. She giggled surpressed when he lay a hand around her waist . And the moment the man turned around and left- scared, so scared, as if he was a limping rabbit scared to be pounced on by a carnivore- Senritsu had to clap her hands before her mouth to hide that the surpressed giggled had turned into a laughter. "Why you were laying it on with a trowel. Did I looked so desperate that you had to come to save me?", the woman looked up to the other and then just lay a small hand on his arm, softly tapping a calming melody on his sleeve reassuringly : "Its alright. You just terrified a member of the mafia and I had a good laugh. I did not needed to be saved, but a good laugh is always welcome." Senritsu just winked friendly up to Kurapika. Also hearing the melody of sudden jealously sparking up like a shrill shriek only to listen to it sinking down ino a even melody, because he trusted her was as nice to listen to as a compliment. The melodic laughter had by now turned into a grin, like from a cat playing with a mouse between her paws. "So there is only one question left-", Senritsus voice was nothing but a sweet, teasing purr, barely hearable over the partys music: "Which one of my dresses you like that much? I never noticed that you preferred one and usually thats quite mhmmmmmmm easy to notice.", a knowing look shimmered in her dark eyes and Senritsu tapped a finger against her ear to show what made it obvious for her to notice: "I must be such a horrible partner for not noticing, really, how could I be so inconsiderate towards your likings." [ @skarletchains ]