#please ignore the burned stuff at the bottom of the oven

[milkweedman]

I'm planning on gifting one of these but even so, I pulled it out of the oven and was immediately struck with the realization that I made far too much bread.

[matty-bear]

VII. Unexpected Sleepover [N.S]

Type: Chapter seven of The Influencer series

Pairing: Nick Sturniolo x Male!OC

Warnings: SFW, tooth rotting fluff

Summary: Finn manages to convince Nick to sleepover at his place. 

Notes: Sorry for the long wait! Hope you guys enjoy reading this chapter <3 Also i DEEPLY apologize if the end seems really rushed 😖 I tried to wrap things up before the word count grew larger. (If you understand the tattooed stars on the v-line reference, I love you.)

WC: 4574

CH1 CH2 CH3 CH4 CH5 CH6

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

“Lemme go get those.” Finn says as releases his hand from Nick’s and gets up off the sofa. As the male makes his way back into the kitchen, Nick moves to the end of the couch and rests the bottom of his chin on the arm rest. He watches intently as Finn hurriedly pulls a glove out of a nearby drawer before turning off the oven. He proceeds to bend down to open the door and slip the pan of cookies out, the sudden heat wave wafting towards him making him panic slightly. He quickly sets the pan on top of the stove and shuts the door with his hip as he takes the glove off his hand. 

He opens up the drawer next to him and puts the glove back inside before reaching up to the overhead cupboard. He gently takes out a circular plate and sets it on the counter before looking back over at the pan on the stove. After a moment, the male decides to quickly move all the cookies onto the plate and ignores the slight burning of his fingertips. 

“Don't burn yourself please!” Nick calls out, gaining a dismissive hand wave from Finn in response. Nick shakes his head as he watches his boyfriend slip a glass out of the same cupboard he opened moments prior and walk over to the fridge. In a few swift movements, the male opens one of the doors and takes out a carton of milk. He opens the cap with his teeth and holds it in his mouth as he pours some of cold liquid into the glass in his hand. Once the glass is full, he sets it onto the counter and takes the cap out of his mouth to put it back on the milk carton. As he sets the cart back in the fridge and shuts the door, he looks over at Nick. 

“Do you like warm milk with your cookies?” At the sight of Nick rapidly nodding his head, Finn smiles and walks over to the microwave. The loud click that sounds from it rings throughout the kitchen before the male gently sets the glass of milk inside and shuts the door. After setting a short timer, he walks over to the counter a few steps away from him to grab the plate of cookies. He hesitantly brings his palm under the plate, being careful of the warm mess of it, and walks back to the microwave when the loud and obnoxious beeping rings in his ears. 

Shifting the plate of cookies to his left hand, Finn opens the microwave and grabs the glass of now warm milk with his free hand. He gently shuts the door with the back of his hand and shuffles back to the living room. The moment he approaches the couch, Nick sits upright and allows the male to take a seat next to him. A small sigh escapes Finn’s lips as he looks over at his boyfriend, the two immediately sharing a goofy smile as they stare at each other for a moment. 

“You're so cute.” Finn gushes as he leans in to land a soft kiss on Nick’s forehead. The red-head scrunches his shoulders, his face flushing a little, before he takes the glass of milk out of the older’s hand. Finn gently sets the plate of cookies in his lap and picks one up before turning back to Nick, who happily takes it and bites it. 

“These are really good.” Nick says, his speech muffled due to the cookie in his mouth. Finn giggles at the male and takes a cookie himself to try it. He lets out a satisfactory hum after he bites the sweet treat and dips the half-bitten cookie into the glass of milk. As he stuffs it in his mouth, he reaches for the remote on the table in front of him. 

“What movie do you wanna watch?” Finn asks as he lean back against the couch cushions. He looks over at Nick who grabs another cookie and dips it in the milk. 

“Do you like Disney movies?” Nick asks, his head lifting to look up at the male. 

“I love them. You wanna watch one?”

“Please? I really wanna watch Hercules.” Finn nods his head and turns his head towards the television as his thumb pushes the power button. When the TV is turned on, he goes straight to Disney + and searches for Hercules. As he does so, Nick grabs another cookie from the plate on Finn’s lap and dips it into the glass in his hand. As he cups his hand under the hand holding the cookie and goes to take a bite, he halts momentarily at the sound of the TV playing. 

He quickly whips his head around to see the Disney castle appearing on the large screen in front of him. A small smile immediately begins to form on his lips as he bites into the cookie in his hand. As Nick continues to indulge into the treat and keeps his eyes glued to the television, Finn’s gaze shifts over to him. He moves closer to his boyfriend to the point where they’re thigh-to-thigh and rests his head on his shoulder. At the sudden weight on his shoulder, Nick turns his head around and looks down at the male. 

“Are you tired?” Nick asks, his free hand extending to move to grab Finn’s hand. 

“No. Just wanna lay on you.” Finn replies softly as he intertwines his fingers with Nick’s. The red-head softly nods his head in response and turns back to the movie playing on the television. Instead of paying attention to the large screen in front of him, Finn moves his head so he’s looking up at Nick. As he stares at his side profile, his thumb begins to caress the back of the male’s hand. After a short moment of contemplating, he leans forwards and lands a quick peck on his boyfriend’s cheek, who quickly whips his head around. 

“You’re very affectionate, aren’t you?” The red-head asks, his eyes locking with Finn’s when he peers down at him. 

Finn shoots his boyfriend a soft, innocent smile. “I told you my love language is physical touch. Tell me if I’m being too much though, I’ll stop right away.”

“You’re perfectly fine right here you are, don’t worry. I quite like this.” 

“Really?” Nick softly hums and lands a soft peck on the tip of Finn’s nose, who melts into shy giggles and looks down. Nick smiles down at the flustered male and brings their intertwined hands to his lap. He slowly leans forward to set the glass of milk in his hand on a coaster on the table before leaning back and reaching for another cookie. 

As he bites into it and goes back into watching the movie, he feels Finn shift a little against him. He takes a quick glance over at the male before going back to his previous actions. As Finn begins to play with Nick’s fingers, his free hand moves over to the male's knee. The moment he begins to trace the red-heads clothed kneecap, he feels the male tense under his fingertips. 

“You okay?” Finn asks as he looks up and momentarily halts his actions. When Nick nods his head, Finn resumes his previous actions and goes back to focusing on toying with his boyfriend’s fingers. As he does so, he feels Nick shake next to him and he looks up at him worriedly. “What’s wrong? Why are you shaking?” 

Nick shakes his head dismissively. “It’s nothing.” Nick reassures, a small giggle escaping his lips. 

“Why you all so giggly then?” 

“It tickles you asshole.” 

“Does it now?”

Nick sends a glare to Finn at the mischievous tone in his voice. “Finn.” Nick states warningly. 

“Nick.” Finn states in an equally serious tone. 

“Finn, I swear to God I will beat your ass.” 

“I’m not gonna do anything!” Nick sends the male another glare before returning his focus back to the movie. Finn’s smiles and raises his hand off the younger’s knee. He takes a quick peek up at the red-head before carefully setting the tips of his fingertips on his kneecap. After he slowly spreads out his fingers, he watches Nick jolt his leg away. 

“FINN!” Nick scream-squeals. After he raises his leg and looks back down at a smiley Finn, Nick flinches harshly when the male lands a few soft pokes on his side “Finn, I swear to God!” The red-head scurries off the couch and stands by the end of it, his arms wrapping around his torso protectively. He fails to see and hear the small “oof” slip out of Finn the moment he plops face-first in the couch cushions. The male lifts himself up and looks up at his boyfriend who’s glaring at him from the other side of the sofa. A large smile spreads across his lips and he quickly slips off the couch and darts after Nick. 

“Finn I’m gonna beat your ass, I swear to God! I’m not playing around!” 

“Oh Nicky~” Finn runs after Nick as he runs around the whole first floor. Eventually they both end up back in the living room and with a small slip up from the red-head, Finn manages to tackle him to the floor, a hand quickly moving behind his head to ensure that he doesn’t go down too hard. 

“Finn. Get off.” Nick states, his failed attempt at a serious tone being covered by anxious giggles as the latter straddles him. 

“Look at you. All giggly and I haven’t even touched you.” Finn teases with a smile. As he moves his hands and raises them in front of Nick, the male quickly grabs his wrists. 

“DON’T! Finn, Ima beat your ass.” 

“Please?” 

“No. I will kill you if you- FINN!” A short scream- laugh rips out of Nick when the taller slips out of his hold and tasers his side. The red-head quickly grabs Finn’s free hand and pulls it away from his body as giggles rack through his body. 

“I'm done, I swear. Can you let me go now?”

“No, you’re gonna pull some stupid shit.” 

“Nick, no I won’t.”

“Promise and I’ll let you go.” 

A small sigh escapes Finn’s lips when Nick squints his eyes at him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I promise.” Finn gives in. 

“Promise what? I need specifics.” 

“Nick, I swear…” Another scream-laugh rips out of Nick when Finn forces his arm down to taser his other side. 

“OKAY!” Nick shouts, his arms sticking to his sides in one swift movement. “Okay I’ll let you go. Don’t fucking start this shit with me, I’ll get your ass back.” 

A small hum vibrates from Finn’s chest before the red-head slowly releases his grip. The taller watches with a small laugh as the male underneath him hugs his torso again and shoots him a death glare. 

“Fucking asshole.” Nick grumbles. 

“What was that?” Finn asks as he jolts his hand through the gap between the younger’s arm to grab his sides. 

“NOTHING! I said nothing!” Nick quickly shoves Finn’s grabby hands off him and hugs himself again. He sends another glare at his boyfriend when he giggles. “What are you laughing for?” 

Finn shakes his head and plops down on top of Nick, a faint ‘oof’ escaping the latter as he feels his body weight being ‘crushed’ on top of him. The red-head raises his head to look down at Finn as he snakes his arms behind his back to lock him in a hug. When the taller glances up at him and shoots him an innocent smile, Nick wraps his arms around the male’s torso and locks his fingers loosely behind his back. 

“Do you really have to go back to your place?” Finn asks with a pout as he rests his chin on Nick’s chest. 

“I told Matt and Chris that I’d be back.” Nick replies, a hint of sadness laced in his tone as he circles his thumb on his boyfriend’s clothed back. 

“Text them! We can have a sleepover in my room!” Nick seemingly melts at the sight of Finn’s large doe eyes. 

“I didn’t bring any extra clothes, Finn. And I don’t like sleeping in hoodies, I get really hot and uncomfortable.” 

“I’ll give you both some of my clothes to borrow! Come on just text them, please~” A soft sigh escapes Nick’s lips as Finn practically gives him puppy eyes. The younger has to set his head on the rug underneath him to divert from his boyfriend’s pleading gaze. It wouldn’t hurt to text Matt or Chris to tell them that he’ll stay longer, right?

What would they do? Say no and drag him back to their place? Hell no! He’s not a little kid anymore and he TECHNICALLY has free will to do whatever his heart desires. And his heart really wants to spend the night at Finn’s. Nick raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, his eyes shutting momentarily. 

“Alright, I’ll text them. You’re gonna have to let me get up so I can get my phone, though.” Nick gives in with a fake sigh. 

“I’ll get it for you!” Finn exclaims as he scrambles off the male to fetch for his boyfriend’s phone. In a matter of seconds, the male returns and plops down on top of Nick with a huge smile plastered on his lips. The red-head slips his phone out of boyfriend's hand and goes straight to pulling up his messages after unlocking his cell.

As he brings to type a message to the group chat with him, Matt, and Chris, Finn slips a a single arm behind Nick’s back. As the male uses his free hand to fidget with the sleeve of his boyfriend’s hoodie, Nick sets his phone down next to him on the floor and looks at Finn. 

“I texted them.” Nick smiles. 

“Both?” Finn asks, lifting his head slightly to rest it back in the male’s chest. He feels the younger’s chest vibrate underneath him as he hums in response. “Do you want to change your clothes now or later?” 

“I can do it later. I’m really comfortable here.” 

“Really?” Nick nums in response as he wraps an arm around his boyfriend, his free hand gently resting on the top of his head. Finn smiles widely at the touch and giggles softly when the younger ruffles his hair. 

“I love your hair so much.” 

“Do you now?” 

“Yeah. It’s like the perfect shade of dark blue. It almost reminds me of blueberries.” 

“Does it?”

Nick hums softly in response. “And I can see your roots coming back.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, no! You care barely tell. And if you could, you would think that you did it on purpose. I really love you in this color.” Finn smiles widely, his face flushing, as Nick plays with a few strands of the taller’s hair in between his fingers. 

“Well I think you look really good in red. And it’s not an obnoxiously bright red, it’s a really nice dark shade.” 

“Thanks.” Nick gives his boyfriend a small smile. “I kinda wanna re-dye it, not gonna lie.”

“What color?” 

“I’m not really sure I just feel like I need a change.”

“You better hit me up the day you dye your hair so we can do it together.”

A small gasp escapes Nick’s lips as he looks at Finn. “Can we have matching hair colors?” 

“Absolutely! I’d love to have matching hair colors with you.” 

Nick and Finn both share a smile before the red-head sets his head back down on the floor, his focus landing on Hercules which is still playing on the television.

 “We forgot about the movie.” Nick states. Finn glances over at the television for a moment before he puts his focus back on Nick. 

“I’d rather watch you than the movie to be honest.” Finn says, his voice soft as he rests his chin on his boyfriend’s chest. He smiles widely when he sees blush creep up Nick’s cheek and he quickly uses his free hand to poke his reddening cheek. 

“Don't start that teasing shit.” Nick mumbles. 

“But you’re so cute~” 

“Finn.” Nick whines and covers his flustered face with his hands, earning a small laugh from the latter. 

“I’ll stop, I’ll stop.” After failing to pray Nick’s hands away from his face, Finn lets out a small sigh and looks over at television, his eyes narrowing slightly when he sees the ending credits roll up the screen. “Your movie is over.” 

“You for real?” Nick removes his hands off his face and looks over at the television, a frown immediately forming on his lips. “Damn, you’re right.” A sudden small ding startles both boys and Nick quickly looks over at his phone that’s still laying next to him. He quickly picks it up and turns his screen on. At the sight of a text message on his Lock Screen, he quickly reads it before setting his phone back down on the floor. 

“Who was that?” Finn asks softly, a hand coming up to twirl one of the strings on Nick’s hoodie around his finger. 

“Nosy much?” Nick retorts, his tone nothing but playful. At the sight of his boyfriend glaring at him, he smiles. “I’m kidding. Chris texted me.”

“Oh? What about?”

“He answered my text about spending the night with you. All he sent was an ‘okay’ with a suspicious looking emoji.”

“Does he know you like me?”

Nick nods his head. “Him and Matt both do. Speaking of them, I think that I should introduce you to them when I head back home. You know, so we can be free to act however we want when you come over to mine or when we’re with them. They both really wanna see what you look like as well so we’ll knock two birds with one stone.” 

“I’m down. Sounds a little nerve wracking but I’m down.” 

“Oh, please. It’s not like I’m taking you to meet my parents.” 

“Not yet.” Finn sends Nick a large smile at the sight of him growing flustered. The red-head clears his throat for a moment before he turns to look at his smiley boyfriend and quickly changes the subject. 

“Can I take up your offer of changing into some of your clothes?” Nick asks, an innocent smile spreading across his lips. 

“Of course! You getting a little hot in that hoodie?” Finn replies as he lightly tugs at the neck of Nick’s hoodie.

“A little, yeah.” 

“Come on then, I’ll get you a change of clothes and we can get ready for bed since it’s getting pretty late.”

Finn carefully gets up off Nick and holds a hand out in front of him to help pull the male back up to his feet. Once Nick is standing next to him, the taller immediately grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers. The red-head smiles widely at the small gesture and allows his boyfriend to guide him upstairs and to his bedroom. 

“Would you like anything specific?” Finn asks as he heads straight to his walk-in closet which was hidden in the corner of the room. 

“Could I get a white tee please? I always sleep in one.” Nick replies as his head whips around to view the countless clothing items and accessories in the closet. 

“One white tee coming right up.” Finn momentarily releases Nick’s hand to shift through hangers to find the desired shirt. After gently removing a plain white tee off the hanger, the male walks back over to Nick. The latter takes the tee with a small smile and exits the closet to go to the restroom.

The moment the male leaves, Finn walks out of his closet and walks out into the hall to fetch an extra blanket for his boyfriend. As he walks down the hall, Nick comes back into the room and whips his head around in confusion when he doesn’t see Finn anywhere in the room. 

“Finn?” The male calls out as he folds his hoodie and sets it on the taller’s desk. 

“I’m coming! Give me a minute!” Finn calls back, his voice echoing from the hallway and seeping into the bedroom. Nick instantly relaxes the moment he hears the male’s voice and sits on the edge of his bed. As he whips his phone out, his boyfriend walks back into the room with a dark purple blanket in his arms. 

“You wanna sleep in my room or wanna take the guest bedroom?” Finn asks as he walks up to the male sitting on his mattress. 

“I can sleep in here.” Nick replies, his head lifting up from his phone to look up at the taller. Both males share a smile before Finn sets the blanket in his arms on the side of the bed where Nick is sitting. As Finn sits on his side of the bed and pulls his blanket over his knees as he sits up against the headboard, Nick follows close behind him and takes a seat right next to him. 

“I promise I won’t do anything funny.” Finn says, earning a small laugh from Nick. 

“I promise I won’t do anything funny either.” Nick repeats, a stupid smile clear on his lips as he leans against Finn’s shoulder. As the male gazes down at the blankets covering him and his boyfriend, his eyes land on small designs and lines littering his left arm. “Do you have tattoos?” 

Finn hums softly in response and looks over at Nick who’s staring at his arm. 

“Can I see?” The taller moves his left arm closer to Nick and allows the male to gently take his arm and examine it. Finn had a sleeve full of tattoos, however the major one that Nick noticed was the large spider web starting at his boyfriend’s wrist and traveling up his arm and under the sleeve of his crop top. “How far does the web go?” 

“Just up to my shoulder.” Nick nods his head and begins to look at the other designs (which were solely in black and white) that are attached to the spiderweb. Some designs that he could recognize are the large spider in the middle of Finn's wrist, a baby bottle, a heart carved into the bark of a tree with the words ‘r.i.p. cry baby’ in the middle, a cartoon version of Melanie Martinez's head with two sets of eyes and horns, a siren, jigglypuff, boo from Mario, pochacco, Kagamine Len, and Spider-Man. There were a lot more characters and small symbols that filled the spider web that wrapped around Finn’s entire arm but those are the ones that Nick could recognize and point out. 

“When I first met you at the party, I thought I saw a tattoo on your wrist but I couldn’t really tell. I’m glad I was actually right and wasn’t going insane.” Nick mumbles as he begins to trace the baby bottle. 

Finn lets out a small laugh. “I’m surprised you didn’t point them out earlier. I thought me having a full sleeve of tats would be the first thing you would notice.” Finn says, his head dipping down slightly to take a glimpse of the male resting against him. 

“What can I say? That face of yours is very captivating.” Nick peers up at Finn and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips at the sight of the blush rising to the taller’s cheeks. Nick lets a small giggle escape his lips before he goes back to focusing on Finn’s tattoos. “Do you have any other ones?” 

“I do, actually. I have a few stars on my v-line, smaller ones on my collarbone and have a few on my legs.”

“You have stars on your v-line?” Nick lifts his head up off Finn’s shoulder as his jaw drops. “Are they colored or no?”

“They’re dark blue and black.” 

“Like in a pattern?” Finn nods his head. “Did it hurt?” 

“Not that much. It probably would for most people but since I'm so used to getting my skin stabbed with multiple needles, I’ve grown accustomed to it.” 

Nick hums softly and nods his head. “Can I see the ones on your legs?” 

“Umm…” Nick watches as Finn forces his lips together into a straight line, a panic written expression clear on his face. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Nick quickly reassures. “Do you not want to?” 

Finn hesitantly and slowly shakes his head. “‘Maybe later.” 

“Alright. No pressure.” Nick shifts his face back down onto Finn’s sleeve of tats, a single finger reaching up to trace the lines of the spider web. As curious as he was to find out what the tattoos that Finn had on his legs were, he didn’t wanna force the male to show him. Especially considering that panicked look he had when he asked. 

“Do you have any tattoos?” He hears Finn ask. 

“I do, actually!” Nick replies as he immediately sits upright against the headboard. He turns his body to face the male next to him a little more before he shows Finn his sleeve of tattoos. 

“Oh shit.” Finn mumbles softly as he pulls Nick’s arm closer to him to examine his tattoos. “Dude, yours are fucking sick. Especially the rabbit coming out of the top hat, holy fuck.” 

“Thanks. I absolutely adore Carlos the Magic Rabbit.” Nick smiles. “I have a few on my legs too. Wanna see?”

“Hell yeah!” Nick chuckles softly and pulls his leg up to his chest. He pulls up his pant leg all the way up to his thigh and extends his leg a little to allow Finn to see. 

“What’s the 333 for?” Finn asks as he scans the tattoos on the younger’s leg. 

“It’s for me, Matt, and Chris.” Nick replies simply. “Getting tats dedicated to them is literally my favorite thing ever.” 

“That's so cute.” Nick smiles shyly as Finn tilts his leg to the side. 

“Dude these are sick as hell too!” 

“Thanks. Yours are so much cooler, though. Like connecting all the designs together with the spider web is so sick.” After pulling his pant leg down, Nick leans back against Finn’s side, a small yawn escaping his lips as he covers his mouth. 

“You tired?” Finn asks as he turns his head slightly to look down at the male cooped up on his side. 

“A little, yeah.” Nick replies, his voice low and soft as he subconsciously begins to trace random shapes against the taller’s wrist. 

“Let’s lie down then.” Nick nods his head softly and lays down with Finn. Once the red-head pulls the blanket up to his chest, the taller pulls him against his chest in one swift movement. Nick lets out a small satisfactory hum and leans against Finn’s chest, his eyes drifting shut as the male begins to massage his scalp. 

“I wasn’t as tired before but I sure as hell am now.” Nick mumbles, goosebumps rising on his skin as Finn runs his fingers through his dark red hair. 

“Go to sleep then, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Finn says softly, the last half of his sentence going unheard as the male in his arms drifts off to sleep. 

[sagauobsessed]

hi! idk if you do requests (totally ignore this if you don’t lol) but i just loved your sagau post w/ ningguang and shenhe! so i was wondering if you’d be open to do a platonic sagau with qiqi and like how she is with the creator? love your stuff! tyyy

I do actually do requests :) I should probably make that more known lol. I've never tried to write qiqi before, but i hope this turned out alright <3 also ty for your kind words 😊

Although Qiqi's memories of her previous life had faded long ago, the one memory that refuses to leave is you. She remembers visiting your shrines with a woman, her mother perhaps? Whatever the case, she remembers the statues of you, serene faces carved into the cool marble, graceful yet unyielding. Did she admire you? She must have, for the memory of your statues had never disappeared, even on the days she could not even remember her notebook.

So it was no surprise that Qiqi was so attached to you upon your descent to Liyue. She got the impression that you were a very important person, even more so than that dark-haired man who came in on occasion for incense and the blonde fighter with their flying pet. But although Qiqi had been told many times WHY you were important, she could never quite recall what it was.

It did not matter to you though. Every time you would visit Bubu Pharmacy, Qiqi would come over and you would give her a soft hug and ask her how her day was going. You never seemed to mind if Qiqi could not remember, simply laughing softly. You were a very good hugger as well, because your body was always cool, not warm like some of the other people who visited the pharmacy. So Qiqi wrote in her notebook, 'When they ask, tell them it has been a good day. It is always a good day when they visit.'

Sometimes, when Qiqi had finished all her jobs for the day, or she had forgotten all the rest, you would walk around Liyue with her. Qiqi didn't like walking around Liyue on her own, because she didn't like crossing paths with that burning lady who always wanted to put her in a coffin. You were always polite to her, TOO polite in Qiqi's opinion, but you gave her a soft smack to the shoulder if she ever talked about burying Qiqi. That made her happy.

You would often take her to a restaurant, which she couldn't recall the name of, but you shielded her body from the fiery ovens while you ordered for the both of you. Qiqi would sip on the fresh coconut milk you got for her, and you snacked on whatever the special was as the two of you sat down by the dock and watched the ships glide past. She often took this opportunity to write down notes about you in her book. She wrote about your smile, about your eyes, about your laugh, so should the day come where you no longer visit her anymore, she could still remember what you were like.

And when you dropped her off at Bubu Pharmacy and waved goodbye, Qiqi would go back inside and wait for you to come back again, so she could remember your smile once more.

I really love this one, I wasn't expecting to enjoy writing for qiqi so much! requests are open for anyone who wants to ask something but please check my rules at the bottom of my pinned masterlist

[hansolmates]

remote learning (m)

summary; working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two. pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, slightly insecure mc, this is pure FILTH—use of a remote controlled vibrator, do not and i repeat DO NOT try foreplay during a zoom call in the event u get fired im not responsible, phone sex, jungkook’s a meanie in control, cum eating, doggy, and topping it off with some sweet missionary bc jk has purty eyes, unprotected (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 5.7k a/n; this fic manifested bc of work. and i!! am!! frustrated!! i think we all need a lil jk relief so here it goes! as always ty to @chillingtae​ / @eerieedits​ for this FANTASTIC fic banner, please go check vivi out if u have taste okok part 2: distance learning drabbles; 01

if u like this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share💕💕💕💕

“Tomorrow morning, same time at 9AM. Remember to have your reports alphabetized and itemized,” your supervisor says, but the only thing you can focus on is the abnormal amount of bonsai plants in his living room. 

“Alright now it’s time for the union to talk COVID protocol,” you frown when Mr. Kim moves ownership of the Zoom call to your union rep, who pulls up a Powerpoint. You feel your eyes burn at the sight: an itinerary containing over thirty-eight slides. 

“For fuck’s sake—” 

You so desperately want to turn off the camera and flop in your bed. Since working remotely you haven’t been operating in the most ideal of workspaces. You live in a one-room apartment with a communal kitchen downstairs, so you really only have four square meters to stretch your limbs around between breaks. You’ve pushed your bed aside and shoved an office chair between the bed and the wall, leaving you to squirm between ten centimeters of space. You have no desk because well, the little rectangle space is prioritized for your portable stove and meals. 

The meeting drones on for another hour, until your brain melts to liquid and your limbs feel like Jell-O. Furthering your anxiety as they talk about protocol that never ends up happening, delays that continue to pile up, and the anger that’s been bubbling between the higher ups and little goldfish employees like you. 

When you finally shut off the camera and fling your laptop under the bed, you still feel unsettled. Probably because your work life and home life have merged together, and it’s hard for you to separate work and pleasure. 

Speaking of pleasure. 

Your hand blindly reaches under your bed, looking for the pretty pink oval you purchased last week. Cleaned and ready to use, the little remote-controlled vibrator sits plainly in your palm. 

Needless to stay you’ve been in a bit of a dry spot these past few months. With a fear to go out and meet someone new, you’ve been left with yourself and your fantasies. That’s fine, but lately your old vibrator isn’t cutting it. It’s unfortunate, you think you’re messing up your libido by buying toy after toy, but you’re horny and lonely. 

Linking your phone’s app to the remote, you ignore the messages that have been beeping your feed since early morning. 

[11:21] Jeon: let’s do lunch! 

[11:23] Jeon: hehe i feel like i belong in mean girls. Do lunch💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️

[2:20] Jeon: u loozer. Come eat dinner with us upstairs @6

[2:24] Jeon: dropping off a snack for u 

Another element of feeling horny and lonely? Jeon Jungkook. 

You two shouldn’t have even met each other. You live off crumbs on the first floor while he and his roommates are livin’ it up on top in the penthouse. One day a few months ago he crashed into you while working out, having run up and down the whole flight of stairs at least three times before deciding to collapse on you between the second and first floor. 

Despite the black mask that hugged his sharp jawline, you had felt nothing but attractiveness ooze off of him. Under his hoodie was nothing but curved muscle. He smelled so soft and sweet despite the fact that he was damp with sweat. 

The rest is history. After that day he seemed to show up everywhere, jogging more prominently on your floor and doing exercises at your level’s gym. He says he likes you, likes your company. He’s wormed his way intermittently, whether he’s seeing you struggle with an armful of groceries or when he hears you screaming over an Among Us match (according to Jungkook, the walls are thinner on the bottom floors.) 

The idea of Jungkook doting on you doubly frustrates you. He seemingly appears as the perfect man, unaffected by the stresses of the world. Jungkook’s job lets him work from home anyway, and he definitely had enough room in the penthouse for his own office. He works out, probably has a girlfriend and enough friends for you to gradually phase out of this weird neighbor interest. 

So you ignore his seemingly harmless messages, focusing on getting the settings right on the vibrator. You feel your pussy jolt a little in excitement, watching the silver and pearl pink oval shake in your grasp. You smile a bit to yourself, immediately finding your iPad for your favorite videos and some pillows to support your back. 

Half an hour later however, that excitement soon goes sour. 

“Fuck,” you bite your lip, frustrated tears streaming down your face, “fuck fuck fuck!” 

This isn’t a set of explicatives out of pleasure, unfortunately. 

No matter what you do, you won’t cum. You can’t cum. Barely wet, hardly a drop glossing your folds. You don’t even want to bother getting out the lube at this point because you are so disappointed. 

The vibrator is going at the highest setting, one that your neighbors can probably hear if they were home at this time of the day. You cease to care at this point, because the job is undone because you haven’t come undone. 

You don’t know why this is happening. Maybe it’s because you’ve had the liberty to touch yourself in complete silence, now that your neighbors have been confined to their homes indefinitely. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve relied only on your touch, that your body is tired of the monotony and needs more.

You bang the heels of your feet against your flimsy mattress, feeling whiny and utterly dissatisfied. Pulling the vibrator from your clit, you glare at the infuriating toy.

“You’re supposed to be helping me out of my dry spell,” you chastise, throwing the toy across the bed, sliding onto the carpet, “I get you’re not Jeon’s dick, but you gotta help a sister out.” 

With a sigh, you fall into a bout of exhaustion. Not from a round of orgasms, but from the week’s stress and no way to let it out. 

You wake up bleary and disoriented, practically melding through the mattress. The sky is pink and blue, washed in a sea of corals and purples. It comes from the incessant banging. 

“Stop it,” you whine more to yourself than whoever dares to disturb your sleep, pulling up your panties and a pair of navy dolphin-trim shorts. “Whoever you are I’m comin’ so stop!” 

Swinging the door open in two strides you’re met with a chipper Jeon Jungkook; looking all cute and sweet in his big hoodie and smelling like a rosebud. 

“It’s 6:30,” he narrows his eyes playfully at you, “dinner’s in the oven.” 

“You left your oven on,” you deadpan, turning around to grimace at the mess that’s your one-room apartment. 

“Yes, so we have exactly ten minutes before my kitchen explodes in flames,” Jungkook chirps, closing the door behind you. 

You don’t even bother to tell him to excuse the mess, ignore the pile of bras hanging on your vanity and the unpacked groceries that sit at the edge of your mini-fridge. It’s far too late to salvage your dignity and Jungkook’s too damn polite to call you out on your state of slob. Although, as you pull out a bottle of wine tucked in the back of your fridge you blurt, “I can hear your fingers tingling to clean up my mess.” 

When you turn around Jungkook stuffs his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, supposedly to stop himself from cleaning up. With a pout he says, “Can’t help it, Jimin says I’m currently manifesting a strong display of Virgo energy this month. Whatever that means.” 

Jabbing your feet in a pair of slides you follow Jungkook out the door. The hallways are quiet and barren, yet the silence isn’t suffocating as you two pile into the elevator. Jungkook opens the keypad underneath the regular boring buttons, revealing a sleek little set of light-up buttons that have the code to the penthouse. Faaaannnnccy. 

“Tryna look?” he jokes, cupping his hands to block your vision. 

You scoff, “I’m sure it’s something easy like 0000.” 

“You’re wrong. It’s 1234,” he replies cheekily. 

The door dings open and you’re met with yet another door. Jungkook presses his thumb to the biometric scanner, and a pleasant ringer tings in response. 

The penthouse smells like a mix of tonight’s dinner, savory, combined with a cinnamon apple candle. Jungkook is a fan of scented candles, ever since he got a whiff of your lavender vanilla burner. 

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, more out of your own anxiousness than anything. Taehyung’s  your buffer, the hyper roommate being someone to distract you from Jungkook’s incessant aura. 

“Dunno,” he shrugs, flicking on the oven light to peer inside. You see the telltale signs of a mean lasagna, the shredded cheese on top crisping to a delicious-looking golden brown, “anyway, you’re my friend first.” 

As grotesque as it sounds, Jungkook always finds his way to worm his way under your skin and find homage there. “Possessive much?” you quirk a brow, folding your arms over your chest even though there’s nothing to hide. 

“What can I say,” Jungkook’s legs stretch out as he squats down to your level, “I really fell for you.” 

“Gross,” you try to convince yourself, ignoring the thudding in your chest, “you technically fell on me, weirdo.” 

Dinner is a quick affair. He cuts slices of lasagna and brings it to the couch, where you’re pouring glasses of wine in crystal glasses. They’re so clean and shiny you can see your reflection in the gold liquid. You grimace at the bottle, normally this would be poured in a mug or your sippy cup, tonight your liquid’s getting a high-end pour. 

You two pull up an old anime to fill up the room, but most of it is spent in playful banter. Jungkook prattles on about his day, showing you all the cool updates he’s achieved during work. An app developer. A very on-brand, lucrative job for him. You love your job but it isn’t nearly as exciting as Jungkook’s, so you just let yourself be supportive and ask questions when needed. 

When the subject of you comes up, you shake your head and stuff your face with another cut of al dente pasta.

“Not interestin’ Jeon,” you mumble, groaning at how delicious his cooking is. What can’t he do? “Is this oregano? Is the secret ingredient toasted oregano—” 

“You’re deflecting.” 

Your shoulders slump, “I’m not very interesting, I tell you everything I do during the week and nothing has changed since March.” 

“Oh, not everything,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. You furrow your brows as his hands stuff themselves in his hoodie pocket. Is he upset you won’t tell him about your work stress? “And you’re very interesting, I’ll have you know.” 

“Yeah?” a small smile tugs on your lips. You sink further into his cottonball of a couch, feeling utterly soft and meldable at his words.

“Very,” Jungkook gets up from the couch, looking down at you, “want something sweet?” 

The prospect of dessert has you excited. Jungkook really is the perfect man, so kind and knows exactly when you’re craving something for your sweet tooth. You move to get up, only for you to sink further between the two large cushions of the loveseat. “Help me, ’m stuck,” you pout.

Jungkook giggles, and holds out his palm, “Hand,” he says simply.

You immediately reach for his larger palm, and you gasp when you feel something cold and soft touch your palm. As if you’ve been burned, you tug your hand back. But Jungkook’s hand is massive, the large ink-painted palm curling around your own, and it’s almost painful the way he clutches your hand so fiercely. 

When he’s sure you’re not going to drop it, he releases your hand. 

Nestled in your palm, is the new vibrator you left on the carpet this afternoon.

“Jeon,” you laugh tonelessly, hating the way Jungkook’s neutral expression mocks you, “you found my USB? Thanks, I know—” 

“Know that you’re having a hard time coming?” Carefully extracting your plate from your lap, he places it on the coffee table before Jungkook cages you between the couch. You shrink further into the plush seat, “I tried being a good neighbor, but you didn’t answer my texts. I heard you when I tried dropping off some snacks before dinner. Didn’t know you were into toys.” 

“Oh, c’mon Jeon. It’s 2020 and we’re confined,” well, in this scenario you’re confined, “everyone has a sex toy.” 

“Hm, I don’t have one,” Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, pretending to be deep in thought, “so, can you be my toy?” 

Fuck. 

It’s then that you feel the tell-tale signs of arousal. Your eyes widen, innocently surprised at the fact that Jeon Jungkook contained so much power in so few words. You snap your legs shut immediately, sealing any possibility of you dripping down your panties. 

“I heard how disappointed you were, doll,” his arms have no problems as he bends down so he’s eye-level with your crotch, “it was pathetic, really. You couldn’t even cum on your own? You need someone to help you?” 

“N-no,” you cross your arms defensively, frowning, “you–you’re being mean, Jeon.”

“And what, you’re gonna cry about it?” Jungkook smirks, now sitting on his knees. His hands run over the velvety fabric of the couch, making a beeline for your thighs. Gooseflesh rises to the surface, and he immediately presses down to iron out the little bumps that travel across your skin, “I do wanna make you cry, but not because you can’t cum. You’ll cry because of how good I’m gonna make you feel.” 

You gape, clutching the vibrator in your hand. 

A little bit of your sweet, cute Jungkook resurfaces, softening when he notices your lack of response, “If you’ll let me, of course.” 

You finally drag the words from your throat, “I-it’s been a long time since I’ve… been with someone.” 

He tilts his head, “Same here. I just figured we could break that spell together.” 

What are you going to say? No? A dishonor to your sexuality, that would be. Jungkook’s offering himself up on a silver platter, and even though you do wish it was a little more you’ll take the sex. 

You nod, forgetting to speak again. Jungkook chuckles. 

“I want to hear you say it, doll.” 

Doll. Like you’re his little fucktoy, malleable and bendable to all his whims. Fuck, why is that so hot to you? “Yes, I want to have sex with you,” you declare, your voice sounding more breathy than confident, “a-and, you can be mean. If you want.” 

His thumbs press little light indents in your skin, over and over as if fascinated by the way your skin is so soft and gummy in his grip. “Okay,” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to pull out his phone, jabbing a few things that you don’t see, “let’s do a little test drive, then.” 

In seconds, the little egg vibrates in your touch. He puts it on the lowest setting, a soft buzz echoing in the large living room, then at a bruising pace that forces you to curl your fingers around it otherwise it’d fall. Your eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s, who’s focusing entirely on the way the pink and silver egg moves, dilated in interest. 

“Fuck, and you thought this thing was broken?” he asks, taking it out of your palm and turning off the app. 

“Maybe I’m the broken one,” you admit softly, wringing your shirt. 

Silence seeps. Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed as if he’s annoyed. “Don’t ever say that,” when you don’t respond, he grabs your chin, and you gasp when he forces you to look at him, “you’re not broken, doll. Everyone’s body is different, and we’re going to discover yours together. Got it?” 

“Y-yes,” you reply immediately, mesmerized by his seriousness. 

“Good,” he slaps the vibrator back in your palm, “and in case you’re wondering, this goes inside.” 

“I know how it works,” you scowl, “but won’t you show me, just in case?” 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jungkook gets up for good, piling the dishes in his arms and walking to the sink. You immediately miss his warmth, “but I think patience is a virtue. I have a developer meeting with some clients in America a little bit, actually. So just wait for my call, yeah?” 

You frown, looking down at the vibrator in your hands. How much longer would you have to wait? 

It happens at exactly three in the afternoon the next day, at the start of your staff meeting. You’re so tired of the same information being thrown back and forth, coupled with Brian and Jae having to fight over some mundane subject in the itinerary that no one cares about. For goodness sake, it’s Friday! What else would you possibly need to be meeting about? 

You’re wearing a button-down dress shirt on top, no pants on the bottom. Your bare feet slap against the hardwood floor, antsy. It’s been a long day at work and your back hurts, you’re half tempted to dip out of this meeting and hope no one notices. 

Your phone buzzes on your bed, and you blanch. 

[3:01] Jeon: thanks for waiting, doll. It’s time 

[3:01] Jeon: put it in

Shamelessly, your vibrator sits next to your phone, cleaned and ready to go. 

[3:02] Jeon: need help? Answer my call

Making sure that your Zoom call is muted, you quickly answer the incoming phone call. Jungkook and you say nothing at first, waiting. The phone just ticks with the amount of time passing, one minute, two minutes, and so on. 

Mr. Kim drones unknowingly, “So when we do return to live instruction, expect a strict process when returning. PPE must be enforced so our response team will—” 

“How wet were you last night when you went home?” Jungkook asks languidly, speaking over your boss’ voice. 

Your eyes widen, flickering back and forth between the phone and the camera displaying Mr. Kim’s boring speech. 

“Doll, are you hard of hearing?” 

“N-no,” your lips barely move, eyes glued to the camera and plastering an expressionless face, “I heard you.” 

“Then give me an answer,” he says patiently, “how wet were you?” 

“Very wet.”

“Little more detail.” 

“Soaking wet,” you flush, thankful that your work laptop can only stream in 360p. “I haven’t gotten that wet in such—such a long time. My pussy was practically clinging to my underwear when I washed up that night.” 

A heady, heavy groan resonates through your phone. You feel that voice straight into your panties, jolting the nerves awake. 

“Fuck, you have a way with words, don’t you?” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “c’mon, touch yourself for me. Swirl your fingers around your clit, slowly.” 

It takes a second for you to position yourself, spreading your legs in a way that your coworkers don’t question why you’re moving so much. A quick scan over all the tired faces says that you’re okay. Shyly, you press your fingers against your clit, doing as he says. 

“Oh,” you say more to yourself than him, feeling the wetness already coating your fingers. This is earlier than usual. 

“What?” 

“I’m already wet,” you say, amazed, “I haven’t gotten wet this quickly in a long time.” 

He scoffs, “If you’re so wet now, shove it in.” 

You frown. You did tell him to be mean. But the idea of him telling you what to do, giving you all the porn-worthy experiences to accomplish has you relenting. Discreetly grabbing the egg from the bed, you bring it down to your panties. Swirling the cold metal around your clit, you coat it in your juices. 

It’s still a little too early to be putting anything in, but you can take it. Slowly relaxing, you slip the little egg in your pussy, wiggling it a little to make sure it’s secure. It’s a strange sort of pressure, and it pokes against your clit from the inside, but you enjoy the stretch. 

“It’s in,” you reply softly. 

“Good.” 

You wait. You listen to Jae make yet another speech about the importance of masks and gloves, and then Brian has to interject and say that gloves are literally useless because they spread germs around no matter what. Even though everyone else is muted, you can practically feel the misery seeping through the screen. For a second you almost forget about Jungkook on the line. Why isn’t Mr. Kim stopping them? This is the thin line stopping you from the weekend, unbelievable! 

“Eep!” you jolt in your cheap seat, the egg buzzing in your pussy. Your hands fly out, gripping the edges of your computer. 

It hits different when Jungkook is in control. Knowing that with a flick of his thumb he can have you careening, whining for more or less depending on how hard he wants you go. Your folds hug the egg, nestling it a fleshy grip as it brushes against your clit the more you squirm. 

“You look so pretty, trying so hard to hold in your moans,” Jungkook says wondrously from the other line. 

“W-what?” you frown, “you can see me?” 

And immediately, you go to your trackpad to fish between the hundred-and-one employees also in this call. At the very end, you see a very simple name with no mic or camera: Jeon JK. He’s here. 

“Worked in IT, doll. Know a thing or two,” he says, “now, tell me. What are you thinking about right now?” 

“Y-you,” you mumble shyly. 

“So,” Mr. Kim finally ends that part of the meeting, thank goodness, “what’s everyone’s plans this weekend? I’m going apple picking with a couple of my friends from college. Hoseok is a bright bean who loves to take long walks—”

What the hell. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, hyperaware that Jungkook’s watching your every move. You make glossy, stubborn eyes at the camera, trying not to move when he jacks up the vibrator to a higher setting. 

Jae’s of course the next employee to unmute his microphone, “Well, me and the bae are going house hunting…” 

“Fuck!” you cry, moving the computer to the left so you can pretend you’re picking up something. But in fact you're leaning your head against your mattress, frustrated. “I don’t fucking care about your weekend plans, Jae! Shut the fuck up! You wanna know my weekend plans?” Jungkook’s laughing at you from the other line, but it only spurs you on, “my plans are fucking my super hot neighbor! He’s a hundred times more interesting than you and he’s going to make me come a hundred times this weekend—oh fuck!” 

Your fingers latch onto your panties, drawing random squiggles and letters between the fabric. You’re damp, soaked to the core. You need some sort of friction, a reprieve from this hellish week.

“You flatter me, doll,” Jungkook is definitely grinning through the phone, you can practically hear his shit-eating grin, “I think you deserve a reward. As soon as you put the camera back on your pretty face.” 

Quickly, you sit up to put the camera on you again. Once again, the employees are in a daze, listening to whatever the next person gabs about their weekend. Even though you can’t really see it, you’re sure Jungkook has a 1080p camera upstairs that shows off your blotchy face. You moan a little bit, lips closed as the egg buzzes against your pussy lips. 

“You’re so cute, doll,” Jungkook praises, “you look so professional, holding it in. What could I do to make you unravel? Hm, what if you imagined the taste of my cock on your lips? Fuck, I’d love to slap your cute little face with my cock, baby doll–”

“y/n?” Mr. Kim calls your name, and you freeze, “what about you? Any plans this weekend?” 

Jungkook doesn’t sound angry that your boss has inadvertently cut him off. “Answer him, doll. Be a good little employee.” 

Like a zombie, you move towards the unmute button. “I–I uh,” you shake your head, trying to formulate a coherent response, “I’m going on a date this weekend.” 

Jungkook jacks up the vibrator to high, and your legs are shaking. 

“Awh, a date!” Mr. Park unmutes himself, practically shoving the camera in his face, “how much do you like the lucky lad or lady?” 

“I like him uh—ah—” you pretend to think, covering a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you feel your orgasm fast approaching, “I like him a lot!” you finally blurt, “I’m, uh, really excited to see him.” 

“Best of luck to you,” Mr. Kim says brightly, “so Jimin, any news on those investors you had dinner with this weekend? I heard a lot of positive things…”

You immediately mute your mic, and pretend to lag as you fumble around with the camera. Shoving the laptop to the side once more you groan into your sheets, “Fuck—fuck yes—” you moan, shaking your head as you dip your fingers into your panties. The vibrator still continues at its bruising pace, spurring you to a high you haven’t peaked to in months.

“Good job,” Jungkook says simply, “could barely notice that you have a little helper fiddling around your dripping pussy.”

“J-Jeon,” you cry, “I’m, ’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook eggs you on, “you’re gonna cum around that cute little vibrator? Gonna soak it in your juices?” 

“W-wish it was your cock I was soaking,” you whisper truthfully, letting your orgasm take you at the thought. Your folds flutter around the vibrator, bringing you to a level of sensitivity you’ve only dreamt of, “Ah, yes, Jeon. It feels s-so good!” 

“Yes baby,” Jungkook groans through the line, “feels good, huh?” 

Mr. Kim interrupts for the last time, “And with that, I think our meeting is adjourned. Have a wonderful weekend! Stay safe and—” 

You slam the laptop shut, grabbing your phone and keys. “I’m going up,” you mutter impatiently, already jabbing your feet in a pair of slippers and locking the door to your apartment behind you. 

“I’m waiting,” he replies, eagerness trimming his voice. 

“Password?” you ask quickly, jabbing the elevator door shut once you step inside. Thank goodness you’re alone, you think as you pull your dress shirt further down your ass. 

“Did you forget already?” he teases, “I told you, it’s 1234.” 

Thankfully, the doors zip you up straight to the penthouse. The connection is always a little spotty in elevators, and you sigh longingly when you feel the buzz jolt and leave it’s momentum, quickly losing its rhythm between your dripping folds. Once you get to the top and the elevator doors open the second door immediately swings open, revealing a soft but aroused-looking Jungkook. He looks fresh from the shower, absolutely radiant and delicious looking. 

You don’t hesitate to run up to him, and Jungkook immediately cups his face in your hands, pressing his lips to yours. 

You’re practically on your tippy-toes, and you squeak against his lips when he hooks his arms around your shoulders, immediately lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, not wanting to stop kissing him. He’s like the sweetest ambrosia, a taste you can’t get enough of. 

The connection to your vibrator has resumed, and you can’t help but grind helplessly under Jungkook’s clothed abs as he carries the both of you to his bedroom.

“N-need you to fuck me,” you bury your head in the crook of his neck, pressing quick kisses to his jawline, “I want you s-so badly.” 

“Hello to you too,” he husks, shutting the bedroom door with his foot. 

Jungkook drops you unceremoniously, and your limbs splay out on the fresh bedsheets of his feather-soft mattress.

“You look gorgeous like this, doll.” he sighs longingly, a hand going under your buttondown to press against your soaked panties. His hand lingers on the way your pussy moves in tandem with the vibrator. 

“J-Jeon please I can’t take it—” 

“Stop calling me that,” he snaps, hands leaving your skin.

You whine at the loss of contact, “Jeon, no. Jungkook. Kook, my Kook. Please, I need you.” 

That gets him going. His pretty chocolate brown eyes zero in on you, and he immediately shucks off his shirt and sweatpants, “How much do you need me?” he asks, pulling out his phone and pressing some buttons, “how much do you need your Kook?” 

The vibrator stops. You cry out in frustration, unsure if it’s because it’s off or because Jungkook’s taking too damn long. “I need you so much, Kook,” you warble with a pout, moving to undo the top buttons of your dress shirt to reveal your cleavage, “honey, you can have me all you want later today. I want you to slap my face with your dick, edge me until I cry, anything. I’m all yours, I’m your little doll. But please for now, I need to feel you inside me.” 

“Say no more,” his lips latch onto your neck, and you sigh at the skin-to-skin contact. His hand fiddles under your shirt, clutching a breast and slapping it so hard it bounces back and forth, “fuck, you’re so pretty.” 

His hand moves to your plain cotton panties, immediately shucking them off, “doll, you really are dripping,” he’s impressed, surprised when he has to untack the fabric from your glossy legs. He hangs the panties on his wooden headboard, a little ornament for him to jack off to later. 

His fingers brush over your folds, wasting no time to slip the vibrator out. He holds it between your faces, forcing you to stare at the pearly substance that coats the entirety of the egg. “Mm, tasty tasty,” he cooes, pink tongue darting out to lick a long strip across the oval. 

You tug him closer, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes a mixture of his own saliva and your arousal, and you grind helplessly against him. You feel how big his cock is, rock-hard and trying very diligently not to bust. He must have a crazy amount of control, and it drives you nuts. 

“Kook,” you frown, bumping your crotch with his.

“Impatient, good thing I am too,” he shucks off his boxers while you unbutton the rest of your shirt, “knees and hands, doll.” 

You don’t care how or what way he’ll take you. Fuck, he could bend you into an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and you’d comply. 

Arching your back so your ass is in the air, you wiggle around, hoping he’ll take the bait. That’s when you sigh, feeling the tip of his dick brush against your wetness.

“Soaking my cock already, baby,” he says, “you’re so good to me.” 

And finally, finally, he slips in. You don’t even care that it stretches you a little too far and too long, it’s been too damn long since you’ve had decent dick and Jungkooks far more than decent. 

He goes at a quick pace, finally showing how impatient he’s been all this time. Your moans and groans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls to the brim. You hold a pillow to your chest, feeling woozy at the way his fat cock stretches you out. 

“F-fuck yeah,” the pace is hard, you practically feel it in your belly, and you love it. “You feel so fucking tight, baby,” he’s all up in your ear, kissing the lobe briefly, “I love the way you suck my cock back in.” 

“Kook,” you press your ass back, “harder, please. I’m your little doll, right? Y-you can fuck me however you want, as hard as you want! Please, ah—! Use me!” 

You cry out when he slips from your folds, immediately flipping you on your back. He wastes no time to wet his dick, lifting one leg over his shoulder to have you deeper. This position is far more intimate, and your noses are practically touching as he thrusts into you. 

You can’t believe you’re in bed with Jeon Jungkook. This must be a dream, a really great, really long wet dream. You crumble in his grip, and you lift a shaky hand to run through his thick black strands. 

“Why’d you make me wait so long?” you cry, staring right into his glittering eyes, “why couldn’t you come for me after your call last night?” 

“Why’d I make you wait?” he grits, crushing the flesh between your hip bones so he can have more leverage to pound into you, “why did you make me wait? Since March, I’ve wanted you. I told you I liked you, told you I fell for you.” 

“T-thought it was a joke,” you warble pathetically, breasts bouncing at his relentless rhythm.

“You think th-this is a joke?” for further emphasis, he glides slower, making you feel just how large and thick he is against your folds, “I want you, doll. Y-yeah, fu-fuck. Want to feed you every day, feed you lasagna, feed you with my cum, make you happy.” 

“I—I want that too, Kook,” you’re a pile of pink mush, and you feel your eyes prick from the overwhelming emotions that have washed over both of you. “Sh-shit, Kook. I think, I think I’m gon’ cum again.” 

“Good, you first,” his hand plays figure 8s with your precious pearl, seeping with arousal and coating his cock in delicious lubrication. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cum. You’re holding him as tight as you can, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around his cock. Jungkook cums shortly after, and you keen at the sensitivity when his hot cum coats your walls. “Baby doll,” he exhales, thrusting lazily. The both of you feel your combined arousal drip between the two of you, onto your skin and onto his sheets, “y-you’re amazing.” 

His softened cock slips out of you, and his hands immediately reach over to swirl around the heady cream over your engorged pussy. You moan when he brings his fingers to your lips, “Open, doll.” 

It tastes salty yet sweet, and you suckle around his finger with a cute little pop. Jungkook grins brightly, feeling like he won the lottery. 

“Are my walls that thin?” you pout, pressing closer to him when he pulls the blankets to your chest. 

“Very,” Jungkook nods with a chuckle, tucking the two of you in, “now get some rest, doll. You presented a lot of offers to me earlier, and I intend to go through with them.” 

You smile into his chest, melty and feeling utterly sated. 

[nalgenewhore]

good

elide x lorcan, modern/neighbours au, fluff + tension, word count: 3515

There hadn’t been a new resident in the building for a while, but the girl seemed nice enough. Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised that she moved in next door, considering that the unit next to his had been vacant for some time.

When he’d received the email from his landlord, Lorcan supposed he was simply used to only having to share one wall with someone and that with a little time, he’d get used to it.

He met her the day she was moving in, bright and early on a Tuesday morning. He’d held the door open for who he assumed were her friends – a tall blonde with wickedly electric blue eyes and a shorter brunette with upturned emerald eyes. Lorcan had nodded at their thanks and stepped out of the building. Then his sight had set on her, Elide Lochan. It was pure muscle memory on which his feet propelled him forward. He’d been so entranced by her that he’d been too late to prevent her from twisting her right ankle as she tried to save herself from falling off of the moving truck’s ramp, but he’d been able to give her a nudge so that she didn’t eat shit on the asphalt road.

“Ooh, fuck,” the woman said, a grimace twisting her delicate features. She hopped to balance on her other foot and sat down on the edge of the truck bed. She glanced up at him, muted gratitude flashing across her angular eyes, almost as dark as his. “Thanks,” she bit out.

“Welcome,” Lorcan replied. He nodded towards her injured ankle, “I can take a look for ya, ‘m a physiotherapist.”

Her brows arched up and she ran an eye up and down him. Lorcan resisted the urge to straighten his posture and his skin felt like it was tingling beneath his clothes. “Really? Don’t look like one.”

“Yeah? What do I look like, then?”

She shrugged, tilting her chin back to properly assess him. “Hmm… a boxer or something like that. Gang enforcer.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Nah, s’not me. I mean, I’m a boxer’s physiotherapist, but I don’t fight.”

“Really? Who’s the fighter?”

“Ya got a lot of questions for someone whose name ya don’t know.”

She laughed and extended her hand towards him, “Fine. I’m Elide Lochan.”

Lorcan’s hand dwarfed hers and he could feel his calluses scraping against hers. Interesting. “Lorcan Salvaterre.” They dropped their hands and he gestured towards her ankle again, “Want me to check now, Elide Lochan?”

“Sure,” she chuckled, slipping her faded black Van off and taking off her sock, too, as it covered her ankle. Elide put them to the side and reached down to roll the hem of her overalls up.

He lightly wrapped his hand around her heel and lifted her leg to examine it, fingers gently prodding the already swelling skin. Despite feeling her eyes burn into him, Lorcan didn’t look up. “Alright,” he slid his hand up her achilles tendon and rested his other palm against the sole of her foot, locking it in place, “bend ya knee for me, yeah? Tell me when it hurts.”

Lorcan flicked his eyes between her ankle and face, tracking her pain. Elide grit her teeth as she bent her knee without moving her ankle and stopped after only a few degrees of movement. “There, it hurts there.”

He hummed and nodded, straightening her leg. “‘kay, move it inwards.” Again, she could only move it a few centimetres before the pain made her wince. Lorcan nodded, tilting his head to the right. Elide followed his wordless instruction and was able to move her foot further.

“Is it bad?”

“Could be worse, but yeah, s’not great, Lochan.” Lorcan tapped his finger against the swelling on the outside of her ankle, “See this, s’really swelling up, so probably a grade two sprain, which means there’s a partial tear in the ligament.” He gently put her foot down and looked up at her, her eyes wide. “Hey, s’ok. Sounds worse than it is, promise.”

“You said I tore a ligament!”

“Said partial, and these types of sprains are really common,” he told her, his voice even. “There’s gonna be some bruising later and you’re gonna have trouble walking for a couple weeks, so what you’re gonna do is you’re going to get ya friends to move the rest of ya boxes, you’re gonna sit down and keep it elevated and iced – twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off for the next two days, yeah?”

Elide nodded, the panic melting from her face. “Then what? I can’t just sit around for the next two weeks.”

Lorcan chuckled, shaking his head, “Ya got a compression brace?”

She shook her head, worrying her bottom lip. “No.”

“That’s fine, they’re pretty cheap down the street at Brullo’s,” he told her. “s’a gym, but they sell stuff like that. Get one of ya friends to go and get it, yeah? I really mean rest for the next two days.”

Just then, her friends arrived and their eyes snapped back and forth over the scene they were confronted with. The blonde rose a single brow, her hand cocked on her hip. “Well, this is cosy.”

Lorcan blinked. It wasn’t even nine in the morning.

“Shut it, Aelin,” Elide said, rolling her eyes. “I sprained my ankle and my new neighbour here is a physiotherapist. His name is Lorcan.”

Aelin looked at him as the other brunette shook her head and walked around her to check on Elide. “Really? What qualifications do you have? Where do you work?”

“‘m a licenced physiotherapist. Work for a private client.”

“Hmm.”

He rolled his eyes and stepped back from Elide, deciding it would be better to address her other friend. “I’m Lorcan.”

“Lysandra,” the woman told him as she helped Elide with her shoe. “Please ignore Aelin. She was neglected as a child and now has attention seeking behaviour issues.” Lysandra’s words were light with laughter and Lorcan chuckled quietly. “Is there anything we can do for Elide?”

“Yeah, make sure she rests and ices her ankle for the next two days. I told her, but it’s twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off for the icing and make sure ya get some sorta compression brace.”

Lysandra nodded, “Ok, we’ll do that. What if it’s still this bad in two days?”

“Knock on my door, s’unit 3D.”

“I’ll do that,” Elide said, something in her voice making him pause and meet her stare. “Salvaterre.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Lorcan replied, the tip of his tongue rolling against his lower lip. He caught the way her eyes tracked the movement. “Lochan.”

Lorcan parked his car in front of his building and picked up his bag as he got out. When he stood, he arched his back, hearing his spine pop in a couple different spots. “Fuck,” he groaned in sweet relief. He slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder and locked the car before walking up to the lobby doors.

As he slid his key into the lock, he glanced around, wondering if he would see Elide. He’d learnt a few days after she moved in that she was a baker and owned a local bakery-slash-coffee shop when she’d come to thank him with a box of freshly made wild blueberry and pastry cream tarts. They were easily the most delicious things he’d ever eaten and after the first bite, he swore he fell in love a little bit.

With his late schedule, he had to go to Fenrys’ fights which were always scheduled during the evening, but he would often run into Elide on her way home from the bakery. It had become routine for them to chat on their way up and smile at each other as they slipped into their apartments, their doors often closing with the same click at the same time.

Lorcan didn’t see her and his heart sunk a little in disappointment. He crossed over to the fire escape instead of the elevator and walked the six flights of stairs up to his floor.

The moment he opened the door at the third level, he could hear music playing, albeit muffled. He frowned, it wasn’t like the tenants to blast their music. Elide was silent and kept to herself, except for when they both happened to be out on their balconies. Lorcan liked those evenings, he liked sitting out there and enjoying his dinner while Elide had hers. They’d quickly found that they could talk about anything together and it was as easy as breathing. Within the month, give or take, that she’d been here, her ankle had healed up nicely, but there was still lingering stiffness and an ache if she was on it too long.

As Lorcan got closer to his apartment, the music grew louder too. He quickly realised that it was coming from underneath Elide’s door and figured she had friends over or something like that. Lorcan let himself into his house and the music was louder inside. He toed off his shoes, hung up his jacket, and put his work bag down. He walked down the front hall, pulling the elastic from his hair, which fell out of the high bun he’d shoved it in and tumbled down to his hips.

Lorcan dragged his hand through his hair, shaking it out and massaging the kinks out. The longer he listened to the music, he realised that it wasn’t happy music, not the type of song one would listen to with friends.

He stepped closer to their shared wall and leaned towards it, unable to figure out the lyrics. The melody was still blasting and Lorcan glanced at his oven’s clock. It was almost midnight, so she couldn’t be up for too much longer, surely. Lorcan decided that he’d go to the building’s gym for the next hour and by the time he returned, Elide’s little music thing would be over.

He moved to his room to get changed and in his bedroom, he could hear Elide singing along, loud and angry.

“...lost my mind, I’ve spent the night cry-ing on the flo-or of my bedroom, but you’re so unaffected, I really don’t get it, but I guess good for yo-o-ou…”

Lorcan smirked, shaking his head softly. A few minutes later, he was changed and tying his high-top Chucks, winding the laces around his ankles once before hitching a neat bow. He grabbed his headphones and phone from the pants he’d discarded, and he got up, moving towards his door.

As he walked to the stairs, fitting his headphones over his ears, Lorcan glanced back at her door, wondering what had happened for her to be cathartically shouting along to what could only be a breakup song.

He shrugged to himself and connected his phone to his headphones, playing his own music loud enough to drown hers out. Lorcan disappeared into the stairwell and jogged down to the gym.

Exactly two hours later, Lorcan stepped out of the elevator, his shoulders and deltoids stiffening from the workout he’d just finished. He paused his music and pulled his headphones off as he stopped in front of his door, pausing when he realised that music was still playing. Lorcan checked his phone to make sure that he’d paused the song and frowned in confusion when he confirmed that it wasn’t his music.

But if it wasn’t his, then it could only be… Lorcan snapped his head up, staring incredulously down at Elide’s door. She was still playing music and the melody matched the same song he’d heard before he’d gone. Sweet fuck, something was really wrong.

He wanted to go check on her, but Lorcan wasn’t sure if they were there yet in their young friendship.

Sighing, Lorcan just resolved to suck it up for the night. It had to end at some point, he told himself.

<3<3<3

Some point ended up being four o’clock in the morning. At first, Lorcan had thought that he’d gone deaf or something. He’d fallen asleep minutes after and his body, like always, forced him up three hours later.

To wake himself up, Lorcan had gone to the corner shop down the street and bought a cup of their coffee, which was practically tar, and a pack of cigarettes. The man didn’t smoke much anymore, but the nicotine would wake him up like nothing else so he’d given in.

He was sitting on the edge of the planter box outside the building, sipping on his coffee and smoking a cigarette. The smoke was bitter and alongside the coffee, Lorcan was feeling marginally conscious. It was enough to interact with humans, so he supposed it was good enough.

The lobby door opened, but Lorcan didn’t bother looking over until he heard a familiar voice.

“Oh. I didn’t know you smoked.”

“Mornin’ to ya too, ‘lide,” he said, his voice quiet. Lorcan looked up at her, drinking in the sight of her. He’d learnt quickly that overalls were a staple in Elide’s wardrobe. She was wearing a black tank top beneath her dungarees and her black hair was twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. A red bandana was tied around her head, matching her tote bag.

She chuckled, looking down at her black Vans. “Hello.”

“Hey,” he replied, grimacing as he drank some of his coffee. “And I don’t.” At Elide’s look of confusion, he elaborated and took a drag from his smoke. “Smoke, anymore. I quit a couple years back, but it helps wake me up.”

Elide nodded, running a cursory eye over his slightly disheveled appearance. “Hmm, you don’t look so good. Rough sleep?”

He snorted, tapping his finger against the cig to knock the ash off. “Yeah, had a shit sleep. Some girl was playing her music real loud, ya hear it?”

She squeaked and blush as her eyes filled with guilt. Lorcan smirked and finished his cigarette. He stubbed it and tucked the filter back into the pack, pulling out the gum he’d bought and taking a piece. “O-oh, you, uh, heard that?”

“‘lil bit, yeah.”

“It kept you up?”

He shrugged, “S’not a big deal, I’ve had worse.”

“Still,” Elide said, her cheeks pink, “I’m sorry. If you want- if you’re free, you can come to work with me? I’m sure my coffee is better than whatever that is.” She tilted on her tip-toes, hopeful. “And it’s free.” Lorcan stood up, finishing his shitty coffee. He shuddered as he swallowed it and Elide laughed, tilting towards the sidewalk. “That’s a yes, then?”

“Sure is,” Lorcan grinned slightly.

“Right then.”

They fell into step and walked to her bakery, which was only a ten minute stroll away.

When they got to her shop, Elide showed him to the table closest to the counter so that they could be as close as possible throughout the day. Despite that, they didn’t see each other too much. Lorcan read through a few newspapers and the magazines Elide offered to him. Once in a while, she would come by to drop off a coffee for him, usually an americano with an extra shot in it. She brought him various pastries too, always lingering until he took his first bite and praised her for her talent.

Elide closed her shop at four and let Luca, her employee, go home early. “Wanna help me with the dishes?”

Lorcan grinned and got up, “‘Course I do.” He followed her into the kitchen and he washed the dishes while she dried them and put them away. “D’ya have a good day?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I did.” Elide snuck a glance at his profile, “Did you?”

“I did.” He paused, a teasing grin curling his lips. “All the free shit really made up for last night.”

Elide gasped and hit his shoulder, trying not to gawk when her ineffectual blow was met with pure muscle. “I already told you I was sorry for that!”

“Just teasin’ ya, Elide,” he chuckled, looking at her through the corner of his eye.

“Mm-hmm,” she replied, shaking her head at him.

They continued in a comfortable silence until all the dishes were done and the rest of the kitchen was clean. Elide pushed Lorcan towards the big counter, “Take those stools down and I’ll get something for dinner.”

“Well, shit, Lochan, ya don’t gotta do all that,” Lorcan protested, his eyes wide. “Really, ‘m not even mad ‘bout last night. I wasn’t ever mad, I swear.”

She laughed, shaking her head, “I know, I’m just teasin’ ya.” He narrowed his eyes at her as she cackled, throwing his words back at him. “Gods, man, sit already! I’m starving and it’s not like I’m going to kick you out to find your own dinner.”

He gave in and took the metal stools down, putting them in front of the counter. Elide bustled back with two beers and two sandwiches. The food was from the industrial fridge in the back and the drinks were from the staff fridge.

They sat next to each other. Both of Elide’s feet were on the spindle, while Lorcan only rested one on the bar and his other leg was stretched out, his heel against the floor beneath Elide’s stool. Dinner was a wonderfully domestic, simple affair. Like everything else Elide made, the sandwiches were phenomenal and Lorcan told her so, around a mouthful of said sandwich.

Elide laughed at his muffled voice, her head tipped back. He swallowed and stared, captivated by the sight of her joy. Lorcan didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was staring when she calmed and he smirked at her blush, casually draining the rest of his beer. His eyes tracked the way she watched him, swallowing once.

He put the glass bottle down, now empty. Nodding his chin to her bottle, which was also empty, Lorcan rubbed his fingertips up and down his jaw. “Done there?”

“Yeah,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek.

He nodded again and got up, gathering their trash. Lorcan tossed it as Elide got her things ready to go. He followed her out, flicking off the lights when she told him to. As he waited for her to lock up, Lorcan stood on the curb, head bent with his eyes on her, his hands shoved in his pockets.

Night had fallen and that was the only reason he reached his hand out to her, so that she wouldn’t trip over anything. Elide slipped her fingers through his and tugged him with her. He marveled at how naturally their hands fit together, her thumb pressed against the first knuckle of his index finger.

They didn’t talk much as they walked home. Somehow, their steps matched each other’s despite their not-so-little size difference.

They held hands all the way to her door and when she let go, his hand felt strange, a bit useless, too. Lorcan leaned his shoulder against the wall and tilted his head to the side, one corner of his mouth higher than the other. “How loud is it gonna be tonight? Just tryin’ to plan around ya heartbreak.”

Elide scoffed, flicking her eyes upwards. “It was hardly heartbreak. Don’t you think breakup songs are kind of cathartic?”

He shrugged, “Depends.”

She rolled her eyes at his taciturnity. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, it’d slipped free during the day. “Besides, there’s better ways of being too loud and pissing off the neighbours.” Elide looked up at him, shifting closer to him.

Lorcan arched a brow, making a show of slowly surveying her, eyes clinging to the curve of her hips. “Oh, yeah? Need a partner for that, hmm?”

It was Elide’s turn to tilt her head to the side and shrug, “I don’t think so. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.”

His pulse jumped, heart beating faster than it had two seconds ago. Lorcan ran his tongue along the undersides of his teeth and pulled it back to the roof of his mouth as he grinned, “Oh, I’m sure ya can, but I’m tryin’ this new thing, ya see.”

“Really? And what’s that?”

He raised his chin in challenge, delighted to see the heat and desire storming in her eyes. “Bein’ a gentleman.” Elide laughed at that, but Lorcan continued. “See, so I gotta lend ya a hand.”

Elide reached out, her fingers wandering innocently up his sternum. “Just one? And just your hand?”

“Lochan,” he murmured, letting her pull him down when her hand curls in the collar of his shirt, “you can have whatever that ‘lil heart desires.”

She sharply tugged and then they were kissing, weeks of tension and hesitation leading up to this. It wasn’t nice or neat, but neither cared as their mouths fit together. Lorcan’s hand rose to cup her jaw, his thumb on her chin, tilting her head up. Elide parted her lips for his tongue and moaned softly. She reached her hand backwards and twisted the door handle, shoving the door open. “Good.”

<3<3<3

an: i wanted 2 write smthng with good 4 u but im a softie now n i cant write breakup fics 😭

@mythicaitt @eyllweambassador @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @ladyverena @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @jadeaffliction @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @thegoddessofyou @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @claralady @neonhellas @darlinminds @readingismyonlyhobby @gracie-rosee @myshadowsingeraz @firestarsandseneschals @elriel4life @always-in-a-daydream @jlinez @hellasblessed @mariamuses @darklesmylove @adelzd-bookblr @rowaelinismyotp @sassyhobbits @swankii-art-teacher @januarystears

[imissjoongsmullet]

Something Better (1/2)

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: fluff/angst (will lead to smut eventually because hi hello it’s me writing about Chan)

Summary: You and Chan have been best friends since before you can remember but now that you’re in college, things start to feel strange, especially with the way he acts when it comes to your boyfriend.

Read part 2

Warnings: part 1 of 2 (probably), cutesy friendship stuff, lots of stupid banter, bit of suggestive conversations, a good dash of angst, Changbin as your boyfriend (do you need a warning for that lol), oh and though this one is pretty clean, there will be smut in later chapters.

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: Ok so I’m going to try to keep this to 2 chapters but I can’t promise anything. Anyone who follows me knows I tend to get carried away it’s a thing... Also, yes, this is such a cliché trope but BOY DO I LOVE IT! Thanks again for the request. I had a great time writing this!

► 

Five minutes to four. Almost there. The old man at the front of the auditorium had been droning on about the history of bleebidiblah wherever for the past two hours and you were very much ready for it all to end and for the weekend to begin. You heard a pencil drop beside you and turned to see your friend pick it back up and place it between his upper lip and nose.

“Looking great,” you whispered, fighting back a smile.

“I know,” he snickered, making the thing drop into his lap for the dozenth time that class.

Chan was kind of an idiot. But he was also kind of your best friend. You’d grown up in the same neighborhood and had been inseparable since kindergarten. He was the first person you’d went to when you’d found out Santa wasn’t real, the first person you’d ever sneaked out of the house to go to a party with and the first person you’d ever gotten blackout drunk with; not to mention he was the only one who knew about your irrational fear of oven toasters. He knew everything about you and you knew everything about him. You were a team, tied together so much so, that you’d even decided to follow each other to the same college.

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder, “how about we go downtown tonight and celebrate the weekend? I heard it’s prolonged happy hour at GB’s.”

The twinkle in his eyes made you want to say yes; it was a very tempting offer. “Can’t,” you replied eventually, scrunching up your nose at him.

“Come on, why not?” said Chan, leaning in and shaking your thigh, “we can go to karaoke after and you can crash at my place. I bought so many Doritos and they’re not gonna eat themselves.”

You bit your lip. “I kind of promised Changbin I’d go over tonight.” You already knew what was coming.

“Again?” he exclaimed a bit too loudly, drawing the attention of some of the other students, “you stayed over like three times this week already.” He sagged in his chair, rolling his eyes at you.

“Don’t be a child,” you retorted shoving him lightly.

That put some of his smile back in place. “You know, I think this Changbin guy isn’t the one for you,” said Chan, pretending to look pensive, “he’s got shifty looking eyes… and his nose is too big.”

You couldn’t keep from chuckling. Dipping down in your chair out of sight of your teacher, you turned to your friend. “You’re so full of shit, what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe he’s having evil, shifty, big-nosed plans and you don’t even know it.”

“Your nose is big too, you know?” you said, pinching his nose.

He slapped your hand away and pinched you back, which made you cry out so loud the teacher went silent, eyes in your direction. Your cheeks flushed hot but just as you were about to apologize to the entire auditorium, the bell rang, pushing everyone around you into motion.

“Oops,” said Chan, eyes full of mischief as he rose from his chair along with everyone else.

You packed your things and followed him, kicking at his heels pettily.

“Seriously though, all the staying over,” Chan went on once you were out in the packed hallway, “sure he isn’t tiring you out?” The wicked grin on his face told you exactly what he meant.

“Chan, I swear if you don’t shut up,” you started but he interrupted fast.

“I just mean, you’re a studious girl,” he explained, grabbing your shoulders and rubbing them, “you can’t have a shifty-eyed boy like him distract you from your super important studies with sexy times.”

“And you taking me out to GB’s is helping me with my studies how exactly?”

“At least I’m not trying to put my dick in you every single night.”

“Chan!” you yelled out, looking around frantically at all the other students within earshot of your conversation.

“Aww,” Chan chuckled, hugging you closer, putting his lips near your ear, “you’re so cute when you’re all flustered.”

You were extremely happy he was behind you and couldn’t see the look on your face because you were even redder than before, staring eyes-wide into space. For as close and you and Chan were, you couldn’t help but feel shy whenever he mentioned sexual stuff around you. Not that you weren’t a sexual person; you just didn’t really know how to act around him when it came to those things. It didn’t help that you felt him all over you now, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand right up.

“Listen,” you said, shrugging out of his grip and trying to compose yourself, “how about we hang out tomorrow night? I’m sure the drinks will be just as toxic and delicious then.”

He came up next to you. “Fine, but you’re buying,” he said, “you’ve been leaving me lonely far too much. I demand compensation.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Fine.”

[I’ll be there in 10]

You hurriedly typed as you left Changbin’s place. You were meeting Chan for coffee. You were supposed to work on an assignment together that afternoon but you felt more than a little distracted after the previous night hadn’t ended up as fun as you’d hoped. You didn’t even really remember how it had started but you and Changbin had gotten into an argument that had lasted for most of the night. It wasn’t anything heartbreaking; it was just frustrating that your relationship wasn’t going the way you’d imagined it. And now you’d have to face Chan and pretend everything was okay because you were far too prideful to give him the satisfaction of saying ‘I told you so’.

He was waiting at your typical spot in the back of the café, his notebook ready on the table. You were happily surprised to find him jotting things down as you walked up. When you sat down, however, you realized he’d just been doodling obscenities in the margins of his book.

“Good afternoon,” you said, closing his book and grabbing the coffee he’d ordered for you.

You felt his eyes on you as you sipped the burning hot drink. You were just waiting for it at this point.

“So,” he started, amusement dripping down his face, “how was last night?”

“Shut up,” you countered, opening up your own book and looking anywhere but at him.

You and Chan were used to working together. Chan always had problems focusing and you were always there to give him the kick in the ass he needed to get the work done. On the other hand, Chan was the one coming up with the most creative ideas for your projects so, despite your differences, you worked quite well off of each other. 

For a while, things were fine: Chan was on his second coffee and the ideas flowed generously; you just had to write them down and turn them into usable content. Things were nice and light as they should be. You took a break and ordered waffles, enjoying them without any mention of Changbin; it was great. You talked about concerts you were excited to go to together in the coming months, showed each other movie trailers of stuff you really wanted to watch together and you laughed at the absolute dumbest things. You thought perhaps it was the caffeine that was making you both so silly.

Unfortunately, after that initial boost of energy, came the inevitable crash.

By the time Chan was picking at the ice at the bottom of his empty third coffee, things were started to shift. You were trying to finish up the assignment but it was clear Chan was starting to get burnt out. Gradually, conversation trickled away from the project at hand and into less productive territory.

“What is it you like about him?” he asked, staring zombie-like into his cup.

“Not now, Chan,” you sighed, eyes on your laptop screen. You felt his fingers at your side, poking lazily.

“No, come on,” he said, voice sleepy, “I wanna know.”

You stopped typing and took a deep breath.

“He’s—” you started, trying to think of something while your head replayed how you’d argued the night before.

Chan let out a chuckle. “Yeah, he sounds great.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you groaned, a little harsher than you’d meant it, “let’s just get this done.”

But Chan didn’t let up. Your inability to define your love for Changbin had apparently made him very eager to tease you and it was getting harder and harder to ignore him.

“I bet he sleeps with his socks on,” he said, sipping his empty drink loudly, “weirdo.”

“Chan please.”

“Tell me he doesn’t.”

“Chan.”

“He totally does, doesn’t he!”

“Chan I swear if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick you where it really hurts!”

“Fine,” he said, still laughing, putting up his hands in defense, “jeez, I was just having fun.” Then he came closer and, entirely oblivious, wrapped his arms around you tight. “No more coffee for you, it makes you mean.” He gave your temple a quick kiss and, chuckling, got up from his seat.

“Gotta pee, this coffee is going right through me, be right back.” 

It occurred to you, as you watched him walk off, how odd your relationship with Chan was. Or maybe Chan was just an odd person? Or maybe he was simply acting oddly recently? You tried to shrug off the confusing thoughts and instead opened up your phone. The last text from Changbin was right at the top. You clicked it and smiled, rereading the sweet message he’d sent you the day before. You should probably make up with him soon, you decided.

After another half hour of half-assed adjustments, you and Chan finally called it a day.

“If you could input your slides right after mine, I’ll do the touch ups and bring it all to class,” you said, staring at your laptop screen, “we should probably go over it together the day before though.”

Chan’s face was in his arms on the table, looking drowsy. “Yeah, sounds good,” he mumbled, “I’ll type them out by Monday, we’ve got most of the stuff down already, it shouldn’t be hard.”

“Good,” you nodded, finally letting yourself sit back and relax. You closed your eyes in a long yawn as you stretched out your arms. When you opened them again Chan was looking at you.

“Tired huh?” he said, his lips curling up into a knowing smirk.

You stared back at your friend blankly. “You know what? Yes, I am actually. I stayed up most of the night.”

His eyebrows rose up in surprise but he didn’t speak.

“And that’s all I’m gonna say on the matter so can we please wrap this up now?” you added, “I think I should go see Changbin later tonight cause— well, we just have some things to discuss.”

“Wait, hold up,” said Chan, straightening up beside you and, finally, all laughter was wiped from his face, “I thought we were going out tonight.”

The memory of your promise hit you, throwing a small dose of guilt over your head. “I’m sorry, Chan, really. I just got some things to do—”

“Some things to do?” he interrupted, now definitely irritated, “you’re gonna ditch your best friend for some mediocre sex?”

“Chan that’s not what this is,” you started but you knew you’d set him off and there was no going back.

“Whatever,” he snapped, “it’s fine I’ll call some people who actually wanna hang out—”

“Chan—” you tried, shocked at the rapidity with which his mood had switched.

“—instead of someone who’ll leave me for the first boy to give her the least bit of attention—”

“Hey!” you said, getting up from your seat, heating up from the sting of his words.

Chan got up as well, the look in his eyes pained. “I said it’s fine,” he repeated, placing some money on the table and walking out.

(part 2)

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays (Chapter 7)

Happy Halloween!

Warning: Minor burns

Chapter 6 | Masterlist | Chapter 8

V- (8:04 AM) Happy first day of Halloween!

L- (8:05 AM) Virgil, it’s October 1st. Halloween isn’t for another 30 days.

V- (8:05 AM) We must be celebrating different holidays. Halloween lasts from October 1st to October 31st. For the entire month, you watch cheesy Halloween movies and decorate your home in black, purple, and orange. Spiders and bats become your daily esthetic. There are no exceptions to this rule.

P- (8:06 AM) I have arachnophobia and most of our decorations are green. Is that alright, Kiddo?

V- (8:06 AM) … There is one exception.

L- (8:07 AM) This is preposterous.

R- (8:07 AM) Calm down, Specs. Let our Dark and Stormy Knight have his holiday. We don’t want another incident of Pi Day, do we?

V- (8:08 AM) What happened on Pi Day?

P- (8:08 AM) Logan wanted to spend the day memorizing as many digits of Pi as possible. Roman told him that Pi day was only for baking pies. Logan decided to etch as many digits of pi as he could fit into the crust of a pie before baking it. Sadly, baking isn’t Lolo’s exPIEtise.

R- (8:09 AM) He almost burnt the house down. It was hilarious.

L- (8:09 AM) I will back down from this argument, if only to preserve my dignity. Since you decided to text us at 8 AM, I assume that you have plans to celebrate your “first day of Halloween?”

V- (8:10 AM) Yep. I’ve got my Scooby-Doo VHS tapes, an entire gallon of iced coffee, and enough decorations to cover every square inch of my house. Life is good.

R- (8:11 AM) Wait which tapes?

V- (8:11 AM) Zombie Island, Witch’s Ghost, Alien Invaders, and Cyber Chase. The 4 best Scooby-Doo movies to ever exist.

R- (8:12 AM) Now I REALLY wanna watch Scooby-Doo

V- (8:12 AM) What’s stopping you?

L- (8:12 AM) The desire to have a stable income

R- (8:13 AM) I’m starring as Van Helsing for our theatre’s production of Dracula. I’ve got rehearsals and performances almost every night.

V- (8:13 AM) Sorry. I’ll watch it in your stead.

R- (8:14 AM) Gee, how thoughtful of you

(October 8th)

L- (2:32 PM) Virgil, did you seriously buy MORE chocolates?

V- (2:32 PM) Do you like them?

L- (2:32 PM) That’s not the point.

L- (2:33 PM) This is the 7th set of sweets you’ve sent us in the past 8 weeks. First of all, this is extremely unhealthy. Second of all, how much money have you spent on these? Third of all, you tend to send chocolates specifically when you’re planning something that we disapprove of. So what, pray tell, are you planning this time?

V- (2:34 PM) Wow, I didn’t realize you were keeping track of that.

L- (2:34 PM) I keep track of everything. Quit ignoring the questions.

V- (2:35 PM) Okay. First of all, if they make you happy it doesn’t matter. Second of all, if it makes you happy it doesn’t matter. Third of all, if it makes you happy it doesn’t matter :)

L- (2:35 PM) …

V- (2:35 PM) Besides, you wouldn’t want me to STOP sending you sweets, would you?

L- (2:36 PM) … Curse you and your knowledge of my sweets addiction.

V- (2:36 PM) :)

(October 15th)

L- (5:47 PM) VIRGIL!

V- (5:48 PM) Hm?

L- (5:48 PM) DID YOU SERIOUSLY TP OUR HOUSE?!?!?

V- (5:49 PM) You have no proof

L- (5:50 PM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo is of a door. There is a square of TP taped to the door, the words “VIRGIL WAS TOTALLY NOT HERE” written in sharpie]

V- (5:50 PM) See? I was totally not there.

V- (5:51 PM) And I sent you pre-apology chocolates, so you can’t get mad!

L- (5:52 PM) I CAN STILL GET MAD

V- (5:52 PM) NO YOU WON’T OR I’LL STOP GETTING YOU CHOCOLATES

L- (5:53 PM) YOU WOULDN’T

V- (5:53 PM) TRY ME BITCH

R- (5:55 PM) I don’t know WHAT you did, but Logan called me, screeched your name, and hung up. Keep up the good work, storm cloud ;)

(October 22nd)

V- (3:42 PM) Hey Pat?

P- (3:42 PM) What’s up, Kiddo?

V- (3:42 PM) You bake, right?

P- (3:43 PM) It would be very hard to run a bakery if I couldn’t, Kiddo!

V- (3:43 PM) True

V- (3:43 PM) So what do you do if your cookies catch on fire?

P- (3:43 PM) WHAT

V- (3:44 PM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo is of an oven. The door is open, and inside is a tray of Pillsbury ghost sugar cookies. They are all on fire]

P- (3:44 PM) PUT IT OUT

V- (3:44 PM) HOW

P- (3:45 PM) DON’T YOU HAVE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER?!?!

V- (3:45 PM) WON’T THAT RUIN THE COOKIES?

P- (3:45 PM) THOSE COOKIES ARE GONERS. ACCEPT YOUR LOSS

V- (3:46 PM) [*Photo attachment*]

[The photo is of the same oven. The door is still open, yet the entire inside of the oven is covered in foam]

V- (3:46 PM) Now what?

P- (3:46 PM) First of all, turn off the oven.

V- (3:47 PM) Done

P- (3:47 PM) Okay. Now answer me this: HOW THE FUDGE DID YOU MANAGE TO CATCH PREMADE SUGAR COOKIES ON FIRE???

V- (3:48 PM) I DON’T KNOW! I JUST PUT THEM IN THE OVEN AND SUDDENLY THEY WERE ON FIRE

L- (3:48 PM) Are you alright, Virgil? Did you sustain any burns or other injuries?

P- (3:48 PM) HOLY STARS I SHOULD’VE ASKED! ARE YOU OKAY VIRGIL?

V- (3:49 PM) I’m fine. I burned my wrist but it’s not that bad.

L- (3:49 PM) Will you please send a picture of your injury?

V- (3:49 PM) [*Photo attachment*]

[The photo is of a left hand. The hand is long, slender, and pale. The nails are long and painted black with cat noses and whiskers. The person’s wrist has a minor burn wound, around the size of a golf ball]

L- (3:50 PM) You are correct, Virgil. It appears to be a minor burn, no need to contact the hospital. However, I would greatly appreciate it if you tend to your burn at your earliest convenience.

P- (3:50 PM) Go wrap up that burn, kiddo! Make sure you add burn cream, too!

P- (3:51 PM) AND OH MY GOSH I LOVE YOUR NAILS! They’re PAWsitively PURRfect!

L- (3:51 PM) Please stop

P- (3:52 PM) Alright. Wouldn’t wanna have a CATastrophe, would we?

L- (3:52 PM) Please. I beg of you.

V- (3:53 PM) Okay, all patched up. What do I do about my cookies?

L- (3:53 PM) Make sure your oven has fully cooled down before attempting to clean it.

P- (3:54 PM) AND DON’T DO THAT EVER AGAIN, MISTER!

P- (3:54 PM) You nearly gave me a heart attack!

V- (3:55 PM) Sorry, won’t happen again.

L- (3:55 PM) I assume that this means you will be buying post-apology sweets? I assure you that it is unnecessary, Virgil. Your health and safety are more important than confectionaries.

L- (3:57 PM) Virgil?

L- (3:57 PM) Please refrain from buying more sweets.

L- (3:58 PM) I’ve already gained 3.4 pounds alone from these “Gifts”

V- (3:58 PM) Too late, already bought them

P- (3:58 PM) You don’t have to, Kiddo!

P- (3:59 PM) And Lolo, don’t blame V on your weight gain. I know Ro’s not the only one sneaking whole jars of jelly from the cabinets at night.

L- (3:59 PM) Virgil, how much are you spending on these sweets?

V- (4:00 PM) Would it help if I said that I get a discount since I purchase chocolates almost weekly?

L- (4:00 PM) VIRGIL

V- (4:01 PM) :)

R- (6:58 PM) Why does all the interesting stuff happen while I’m at work?

V- (6:59 PM) Get wrecked Princey

R- (6:59 PM) :(

V- (7:00 PM) Don’t worry I got you sweets too

R- (7:00 PM) :)

(October 24th)

L- (2:32 PM) VIRGIL!

V- (2:33 PM) Did you get your sweets? Send me a pick! I didn’t get to see the end result

P- (2:33 PM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo is of three vases, each of different colors. The light blue vase is filled with tulips made of white chocolate. There are also chocolate-covered straberry and a giant chocolate lollipop with the words “I appreciate you a chocoLOT!” The red vase is filled with milk chocolate roses and another chocolate lollipop that says “Good luck slaying Vampires!” The navy blue vase is the most elaborate (probably just to mess with Logan). It’s filled with dark chocolate tulips AND roses, with a whole jar of crofters nestled into the middle of the bouquet. It’s lollipop reads “Weight and Cost are just #s!”]

P- (2:34 PM) These are ADORABLE, Virgil!

L- (2:34 PM) How much did you spend on this, Virgil?

V- (2:34 PM) Did you not read your lollipop?

V- (2:35 PM) Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t buy the chocolates if I couldn’t afford them :)

L- (2:35 PM) My digestive system can’t afford them.

V- (2:36 PM) Well I couldn’t give you pre-apology chocolates so I had to give you epic post-apology chocolates.

P- (2:37 PM) Well, I cannot wait to eat these! Seriously, I’ve already eaten half a tulip. And these vases will look so pretty holding ACTUAL flowers! Thank you so much, V! But remember, you don’t have to do this. We don’t need apology sweets!

V- (2:38 PM) I know, but it’s comforting to know that there’s at least ONE way I can interact with you guys beyond texting. I’m sorry that I’m still not comfortable talking face-to-face yet.

P- (2:38 PM) That’s completely fine, Kiddo! Take all the time you need. We’ll be here when you’re ready.

L- (2:39 PM) I agree.Though I still do not see the purpose of excessive spending on our behalf.

R- (2:39 PM) Well I find it extremely thoughtful, storm cloud. I would type an entire ballad of how caring and kind you are, but I must get back to work. I shall speak with you tonight, fair raven.

V- (2:40 PM) Thanks, guys. It means a lot to me.

(October 31st)

L- (10:17 AM) How are you feeling about your “final day of Halloween,” Virgil?

V- (10:18 AM) Incredibly depressed

P- (10:18 AM) Aww. Why’s that, Kiddo?

V- (10:19 AM) You guys know how I travel around with my friends, right?

V- (10:19 AM) Well apparently we have to travel out today. We won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.

R- (10:20 AM) I’m deeply sorry, my precious stormcloud. If I may ask, why do you have to travel tonight?

V- (10:20 AM) My friends like to go to parties out of town, and I go to make sure they don’t get themselves killed.

P- (10:21 AM) I’m sorry you have to miss Halloween, Kiddo. I know how much you were looking forward to it.

V- (10:22 AM) I’m still gonna wear my costume. Just because I can’t celebrate at home doesn’t mean I can’t celebrate at all.

L- (10:22 AM) What costume have you decided to wear?

V- (10:23 AM) [*Photo attachment*]

[Photo is the bottom half of someone’s face. They’re smiling, with black lipstick and fake Vampire teeth. There’s red liquid running down their chin.]

P- (10:23 AM) That looks FANGtastic, Virgil!

L- (10:23 AM) I hope you have an amenable experience at the party, Virgil.

R- (10:24 AM) I agree! You look amazing and I hope you enjoy the party, storm cloud. Do not worry, I will watch The Nightmare Before Christmas in your stead!

V- (10:25 AM) Wow I feel so grateful

R- (10:25 AM) :)

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

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[kaleidoscopeminds]

I’m going blind from this sweet craving

This came about because I wanted to write some Cake and my brain just went bakery!!! au!!!! Anyway this is very self-indulgent and driven by my own baking obsession. Please enjoy 6k of me talking about cake (literally) and a cheeky bit of side mashton because I couldn’t resist. For the club because everything I do is for the club <3

Warnings: horribly tooth rotting fluff, too many baking metaphors

Title from Cake by the Ocean by DNCE because I think I’m funny

Luke places the last piece of broken Oreo carefully atop the whirl of buttercream and wipes his hands on his apron, reviewing the set of cupcakes in front of him. He knows he’s hypercritical of his own work; he gets called a perfectionist by Michael at any opportunity (and not in a complimentary way), but he still maintains that it’s the only way to be to make anything good.

 He deems this double dozen of the Oreo chocolate as close to perfect as he’s going to manage this morning and slides them next to the strawberries and cream set with mini meringue topping he just finished. He goes to the walk-in refrigerator and pulls out the layer cake that he made before he left yesterday, and then crosses over to dry storage to wheel out the trolley containing the carefully wrapped crates of bread that Ashton, their bread supplier, had dropped off about an hour ago. 

He pulls the trays of croissants, pain au chocolat and pain aux raisins out of the oven deftly, and slides them onto a cooling rack to leave for a couple of minutes, before he can transfer them to the cabinet in the front of the bakery, and checks the clock. It’s 6:40, so he’s just on time to get everything stacked up in the front if he has a bit of help. 

He hears the door at the front of the cafe slam, handle jangling ominously as it closes again and Luke smiles to himself, grabbing the trays of cupcakes and heading out into the front, opening the swing door with his hip.

“Hi Mikey,” Luke calls over as Michael struggles out of his jacket, pushing his glasses up onto his nose and grumbling incoherently.

“I’m not late,” Michael starts, attempting to pull his apron out of his backpack and hang up his jacket on the hook at the same time.

Luke doesn’t say anything, just turns his head to look deliberately at the large clock hanging over the coffee machine behind the counter and raises his eyebrows, smiling slightly.

“Well, barely,” Michael responds defensively. “You’re not the boss of me, Luke Hemmings.”

Luke laughs, “Unfortunately for you, I am. Supervising baker remember?” He opens up the display cabinet and slides the cakes carefully into place.

“Promotions gone to your overly large blonde head already, I see,” Michael says, struggling with his apron ties where they’ve got tangled around his belt.

Luke laughs again and goes over to Michael, untangling him and turning him round to tie his apron for him. “Go and drink your coffee Mikey, I made one for you about 10 minutes ago, should still be hot. I’ll get the rest of the stuff out to the front.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Michael says genuinely, quickly walking behind the counter and finding the insulated travel mug Luke had filled with a latte earlier that morning. He pulls off the lid and Luke watches him practically inhale it, smiling fondly as he makes his way back into the kitchen.

“Remind me again why I always seem to be making coffee for you when you’re the trained barista?” Luke calls out as he carefully lifts the 4 layered cake onto a stand and carries it back out to the front.

“Ooh that looks fucking good what’s in that?” Michael asks, eyes lighting up at the sight of the cake in Luke’s careful grip. “And it's because you won’t admit it but you’re in love with me too,” He adds, putting his coffee down so he can take the cake off Luke to put on top of the cabinet.

“Chocolate hazelnut with Nutella and praline,” Luke replies with a smile. “Sorry to disappoint you Michael but we would never work, I couldn’t be with someone who hates mornings,” He says solemnly as he returns to the kitchen, lightly checking the pastries to make sure they’re cool enough before tipping them onto another tray.

“You’re going to be on your own for a while then!” Luke hears Michael call, and he laughs as he comes back through the swing door. “No one likes mornings,” Michael continues crabbily, downing the rest of his coffee in one gulp. 

“You know who does like mornings?” Luke asks as he passes over the tray to Michael. “Our lovely bread baker.”

Michael blushes and ducks his head at the mention of Ashton. “Why don’t you ask him out then,” He grumbles, lining the pastries up neatly with the tongs in his hand. 

“Not my type.” Luke wiggles his eyebrows at Michael. “Plus I think he might be more interested in barista types than cake-making types.”

“Shut up Luke,” Michael groans back. “I’ve told you before, he barely knows who I am. I only see the man for about 5 minutes every day when he comes to pick up the crates.”

“And yet every morning. I have to tell him that ‘No Michael’s not here yet, sorry,’” Luke smirks. “Honestly Mikey, you’re missing out not being here at half past five, lots of Ashton content.”

“Yes but that would involve, you know, being here at half past five,” Michael replies sarcastically. “Did Em make any tarts for today?” He asks. 

“Yeah they look great, she’s done a new orange curd one with chocolate pastry which I’m excited to try.” Luke accepts the change of subject and goes back towards the kitchen. “Do you want to come and grab your boyfriend’s bread? Think that’ll be the last of it then.”

Michael glares at Luke and pretends to trip him up as he walks past, then follows him into the back.

“You’re such a dickhead sometimes you know that,” Michael says grumpily, pulling out the loaves of bread and stacking them on the counter.

Luke laughs, it’s too easy to get a rise out of Michael, particularly first thing in the morning and especially when it comes to Ashton. He opens the fridge again and as always sends a silent thank you to the angel that is Em, their evening baker, and the only reason they’re able to produce enough goods for the cafe. It honestly changed his life when his boss decided to employ an extra baker, now he can actually leave when the cafe closes; she picks up anything that Luke doesn’t manage to finish, as well as shaping the pastries to chill overnight and producing a few dozen tarts for the next day. He checks the new orange curd tarts and their customer favourite, the strawberry ones (perfect as always), and slides them off the shelves. 

“You were literally declaring your love for me not 10 minutes ago I believe,” Luke says, checking the fridge to make sure he’s not missed anything. 

He turns around frowning at the lack of a bitchy response, but Michael’s distracted by something in one of the crates. 

“You okay there?” Luke questions.

“Yes,” Michael mumbles, blushing furiously, attempting to pull the crate out of Luke’s view. Luke quickly walks over, interest piqued, and grabs the crate out of Michael’s hands, ignoring his noise of protest. 

In the bottom of the crate there’s one of Michael’s favourite chocolate chip hot cross buns, but instead of a cross on top there’s a carefully shaped ‘M’. Luke laughs delightedly.

“He barely knows who you are, hm?” Luke teases.

“Its..” Michael coughs embarrassed. “It’s probably just a friendly thing.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Come off it Mikey, that’s the most obvious display of affection in enriched dough form that I’ve ever seen. Where’s my L eh? Nowhere to be seen.” 

“Shut up,” Michael says, but he reaches into the crate and pulls out the bun, wrapping it in some baking paper with utmost care, before walking out into the front of the cafe. 

“You’re meant to be stocking the actual breads!” Luke calls after him, grabbing the tarts and following Michael out. 

Michael just raises his middle finger at him as he gently slides the wrapped bun into his backpack, still blushing. 

Luke laughs and goes to fetch them himself, stacking them in the baskets at the side of the counter, ready to be sold or to be sliced for their toasties.

“Right I’m gonna start on tomorrow’s cake, let me know when you need a hand.” Luke says, turning to Michael who’s absentmindedly filling up the coffee grinder with beans and not looking like he’s heard Luke in the slightest.

“Earth to Michael, come in Michael.” Luke nudges Michael’s arm with his elbow and Michael looks up with a start.

“Oh yeah, sorry. That’s fine,” Michael replies quickly.

“Are you going to be okay out here on your own?” Luke jokes. “You look like you could burn yourself on steam or tip grounds everywhere at any minute.” 

“Yes Luke,” Michael replies testily. “Now go and make some cake and let me do my job, I’ll call you when it gets busy.”

This is the way it works with the two of them in the morning, Luke getting a head start on his batters while Michael deals with the dribs and drabs of the early customers. When it gets to 8am and the little cafe starts getting really busy, Luke will step out to the front to help, and they will work seamlessly together; Michael tamping coffee and steaming milk expertly, whilst Luke takes orders and fills bags with breakfast pastries and muffins. After the rush dies down, Luke will retreat back into the kitchen and start the doughs for the next days’ croissants, until lunch time and he’ll be back out to give Michael a hand with slicing bread and toasting sandwiches. 

He enjoys the buzz of service with Michael, moving round each other with a well practised air and smiling at customers, his favourite bit is getting glimpses of the joy they get from something that he’s created. He’s most comfortable in the kitchen though; in the sweetly calming clouds of icing sugar and the reassuring warmth of the ovens, most at ease on his own with slightly sticky hands, flour perpetually dusting all of his clothes and with a speaker quietly playing his favourite songs into the vanilla scented air.

 X

“Luke!” He hears Michael’s voice float through the door, just as he’s closing the oven door on 3 sandwich pans of fresh raspberry filled sponge. 

“Coming!” He responds, setting his timer for 30 minutes, and pinning it to the top of his apron, before washing his hands and heading out of the door to join Michael. He sees there’s a queue building up and quickly steps behind the counter and smiles at the next customer as Michael pours milk into 3 flat whites in quick succession, a perfect leaf in milk foam appearing in each of them with an artful flick of his wrist.

“Hi, what can I get you?” He smiles at the man who’s just approached the counter.

“A small black Americano to take away, and make it quickly, I’ve already been here 15 minutes and some of us have actual jobs to work you know,” an older man in a suit barks at him, not looking up from his phone. 

“So sorry for the delay Sir, we’re very busy as you can see. Can I take a name for that?” Luke grits his teeth but maintains the smile on his face with some effort.

“It’s Richard,” the man says pompously. “And maybe you should employ more staff if you’re this busy.”

“We’ll take your feedback on board,” Luke replies, his smile coming forced. He writes the man's order, and “Dick” in tiny writing underneath on a cup before turning round and putting it on top of the coffee machine, rolling his eyes at Michael as he does so. Michael smirks in return, pressing his lips together to quell a laugh and slotting the portafilter into place under the grinder.

“That’ll be £2.00 please.”  

“Actually I think I’d like to speak to the manager about the poor service before I pay,” The man says brusquely.

“She’s not here at the moment unfortunately,” Luke responds, not bothering to maintain the smile.

“Well then I’d like to speak to the most senior person here,” The man continues.

“You’re looking at him,” Luke replies coolly, crossing his arms. He’s never been good at dealing with difficult customers, which is why he prefers being in his quiet domain in the kitchen, but he’s dealt with men like this before, all talk but no action when pushed. 

“I think you’re being incredibly rude, you’ve made me wait a ridiculous amount of time for a coffee which is priced extortionately, and now you’re going to be disrespectful to my face,” The man snaps.

“Maybe if people like you just paid and left then nobody would have to wait as long.” A calm voice comes from behind the man.

Luke looks around the rapidly reddening man in front of him to see the source of the voice and sees a man around his age in a suit, with a pair of headphones slung around his neck. Luke tries not to stare but the man is gorgeous, all deep brown eyes the colour of rich dark chocolate ganache, and swooping dark hair, his eyebrows raised and plump lips pursed slightly.

The older man starts spluttering angrily, “And who do you think you are to say something like that to me?”

The younger man just shrugs and continues to look at him calmly, not bothering to elaborate. Luke takes the opportunity to hold out the card machine towards the older man.

“£2.00 please,” He repeats.

The man scowls and taps his card against the machine. 

“You can wait at the end for your drink,” Luke says with a dry smile.

The man grunts but moves away to the side with a glare.

“Thanks,” Luke says quietly, smiling at the younger man as he approaches. 

The man’s lips spread into a genuine smile and Luke thinks they look even better that way if that were possible. “No worries, I think you were handling it fine, it was just an observation.” His voice is warm and deep, reminding Luke of a buttery caramel sauce. 

Luke bites his lip and tries not to blush. “What can I get for you?”

“Flat white, please,” The man says, still smiling at Luke.

“Name?” Luke attempts to hide his face behind the cup he’s just picked up.

“Calum,” He says. “But I think I’ll take that to have in if you don’t mind?” 

“Of course!” Luke says quickly, fumbling his pen slightly as he switches the paper cup for a ceramic one, peeling a sticky note so he can write Calum’s order. “Anything to eat?”

“I’m new here, what do you recommend?” Calum says, cocking his head slightly before looking over the display case. “It all looks amazing.”

Luke definitely blushes this time and clears his throat. “Well the pains au chocolat are quite good I think,” he says nervously.

“Let’s go with that then.” Calum smiles again and Luke thinks his legs might have melted into his shoes but he can’t seem to move them to check if that’s true or not. 

“Or if you wanted something sweeter you could go with one of the lemon muffins, or the strawberry cupc-”

“Luke,” Michael interrupts from behind him. “Please stop flirting with this nice man and get on with serving the other eight nice people we have waiting?” He begs.

If Luke thought he was blushing before it's nothing compared to the heat he feels in his face now. He turns to Michael and throws him daggers.

“The pain au chocolat sounds perfect.” Calum fishes out his wallet. “And your colleague’s right, I’m being a bit of a hypocrite after telling that twat to hurry up aren’t I?” He pushes a hand through his hair and smiles apologetically.

“No, you’re fine it’s no problem at all,” Luke manages to get out. “That’ll be £5.60.”

Luke lets Calum tap his card on the machine and then busies himself with pulling the pastry out and onto a plate which he places on a tray with a napkin, ready for Michael to put the coffee on when it's been made.

“Why don’t you go and sit down, Luke will bring it over in a few minutes if you’re not in too much of a rush?” Michael suggests, pressing the buttons on the coffee machine and sliding a cup underneath to catch the espresso starting to stream out. 

Calum looks bemusedly at Michael for a second before shrugging. “That’d be great, yeah. My office is just round the corner so I’ve got a few minutes. Thanks… Luke.” He says Luke’s name like he’s deciding how he likes the taste of it in his mouth, before quirking his lips once more, and heading to a table in the corner of the cafe.

“What are you doing?” Luke hisses at Michael as he takes the next customer’s order, writing quickly on another cup and fishing change out of the till when the woman hands over a five pound note. “You were just making a point about how busy we were!”

“I’m not telling you to go and sit down with him,” Michael whispers back, only just audible over the sound of the coffee grinder. “But he’s obviously into you, just take his coffee and flirt a bit and then come back and help me!”

Luke takes the most recent batch of completed coffees and distributes them to the waiting customers, smiling slightly when the rude man snatches it off him and storms out on his phone without even checking the name on the cup. He takes another order and passes it to Michael, just as Michael finishes off a flat white with a perfect heart.

“There,” He says in a pleased voice, setting it down next to the pain au chocolat on Calum’s tray. “Now off you go.”

Luke smiles at the woman he’s just served then glares at the tray and at Michael. “What have you put a heart on it for!” He yelps.

“It’s called flirting!” Michael starts steaming another jug of milk. 

“He’s going to think you like him not me!” Luke protests.

“Just go!” Michael hisses, finishing up another coffee and handing it to a waiting customer. “Hi, how are you?” He intercepts the next person waiting at the counter before Luke can do anything about it.

Luke huffs noisily and picks up the tray reluctantly. He wouldn’t go over at all, but Calum did help him with the arsehole customer so the least he can do is actually provide the service he came in for and give the man his coffee. He heads over to where Calum is sat, with his headphones on and jiggling his knee as he types something into his phone. He looks up at the sounds of Luke putting his plate down on the table and smiles gratefully. Luke then sets down the coffee next to the plate and tries to tamp down his instinct to run away immediately. Calum looks at the coffee and then up at Luke, eyes twinkling and a blush in his cheeks. 

“Hope you have a great day!” Luke squeaks out and speed walks back to the counter.

“So?” Michael asks as he fishes out a croissant and places it in a bag, tapping the end of the tongs on the glass.

“Uh, I told him to have a good day then ran away before he could respond,“ Luke mutters, snatching the bag off Michael and handing it off to the customer in front of him. 

“Luke -” Michael starts.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Luke snaps. “Make coffee.”

“Okay boss,” Michael says, barely repressing a giggle. 

Luke spends the next 15 minutes regretting every life choice he’s ever made and resolutely not looking towards the corner Calum is sat in, focusing entirely on the rush of customers. At about 8:45 he sees out the corner of his eye that Calum has stood up, brushing a few crumbs off his knee and patting his pockets. Luke turns around and busies himself with writing the next order on a cup for Michael so that Calum can leave without making eye contact with him. When he deems that it’s been long enough, he turns back to the counter, but standing just off to the side is Calum, scuffing a hand up through the back of his hair and smiling shyly at Luke again.

“Just wanted to say, an inspired choice on the pain au chocolat.” He says. “Send my compliments to the chef,”

“Oh erm, thanks, I will.” Luke stutters out.

“Bye, Luke,” Calum says. “Maybe see you tomorrow, and... Hope you have a great day too.” His face breaks out into a wider smile that reminds Luke of the feeling of getting just the right consistency for macaron batter, or a perfectly smooth finish on a cake or the way good puff pastry flakes into the perfect fragments when you cut through a mille-feuille. Or something.

With that Calum slips his headphones back onto his head and leaves the cafe. 

“You are a useless sack of shit you know that,” Michael scoffs at him.

“Fuck off,” Luke mutters under his breath. “Two words. Ashton. Irwin.” Michael glares back at him.

They get through the last half hour of the rush as normal, Luke pausing only briefly to pull the sponges out of the oven, and he’s twitching more than ever to get back into the safety of his kitchen with some dough in his hands and the comforting whirr of his mixers.

“Okay I’m all good here, you can go,” Michael smiles at him shaking his head.

Luke basically runs through the doors into the back and inhales deeply. God, he needs to get a grip.

X

It continues like this over the next few weeks. Calum will come in most mornings, and sometimes he’s in a rush, smiling apologetically as he orders to take away. Most mornings though, he will appear earlier, choose something to eat on Luke’s recommendation and sits at the table in the corner for 20 minutes before complimenting what he’s eaten on his way out. Luke never speaks to him short of suggesting a new pastry or muffin (and maybe he’s also developing new options everyday just to be able to give Calum something else to praise), but he does spend quite a lot of time looking at Calum sitting in his corner, long fingers wrapping around his mug of coffee and mouth chewing thoughtfully on whatever Luke’s provided him with whilst he jiggles his knee to his music.

Luke swears that sometimes when he chances one of these looks over to him whilst he’s serving a customer, Calum is looking back at him, but his brown eyes always blink away as soon as Luke’s catch them. 

Predictably, Michael is absolutely insufferable about it.

“Loverboy’s looking at you again,” He smirks, checking the most recent order Luke has written for him.

“Shut up, Mikey,” Luke says petulantly. “He is not.”

“He’s always looking at you, Luke,” Michael laughs. “You’re actually driving me mad, please just ask him out or something, you two have the most obvious thing for each other ever. ”

“We do not, he doesn’t like me like that,” Luke protests. “He could be looking at you for all we know, you were the one who put a heart on his flat white,” he adds, sourly.

“You should see his face drop when he comes in here and you’re already in the back,” Michael responds knowingly. “He looks like someone’s pissed in his coffee every time you’re not here to stammer at him about what cakes you’ve made.” 

Luke’s face flames red and he turns his back on Michael deliberately to serve the next customer, as he hears Michael’s suppressed giggles behind him. Look, he knows Michael might have a point and that he could just talk to Calum, but Luke doesn’t really know how, unless he’s talking about pastry or ganache or sponges words just don’t come that easily to him. Especially when faced with someone who looks like Calum does. He sighs and closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, as if summoned by Luke’s thoughts, there Calum is at the edge of the counter.

“Blueberry muffin was particularly good today,” He says quietly with his usual smile. “Have a good day, Luke.” He gives a small wave and exits the cafe. Luke opens his mouth to say something before he can leave, but nothing comes out so he just closes it again. He kicks the edge of the counter grumpily.

“I’m literally the worst ever,” He groans, spinning round and going through to the kitchen, swinging the door behind him, Michael’s laughs following him through. 

X

Luke is having what he thinks might be the most disastrous day ever. It’s after 5pm, the cafe has just closed and he would normally think about going home soon but Em’s got the day off and he’s not been able to make half of the stuff he needs to for tomorrow. Every ganache he’s attempted has split, he’s burnt one batch of cupcakes and under-cooked another so they’ve sunk in the centre, he’s crystallised his caramel so its unusable, and the chocolate he tempered for the triple chocolate layer cake he has planned has come out mottled and dull. He hates to admit it but the worst part of it was that he didn’t even see Calum this morning, he worked out the front much longer than he normally does in the hope of seeing the other man, but he never turned up. Michael had just raised his eyebrows and given him a knowing grin as he had slumped back into the kitchen at well past half-nine. He sighs at himself as he pushes a hand through his curly hair which he’s had to pull back into a tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck, and tips another set of cakes into the bin. 

He hears a knock on the back door of the kitchen, and the door opening. A curly brown head appears round the door frame. 

“Hi Luke, Is this a bad time?” Ashton says, surveying the disarray before him, bowls and utensils on every surface, half finished cakes and fillings littering the other available spaces. 

Luke huffs out a laugh and wipes his hands on his apron. “No you’re fine come on in, just having one of those days. Sorry for the state of it in here.”

Ashton smiles at him and steps into the kitchen, going to the store where he knows they keep the empty bread crates. “No worries at all mate! Oh I brought my flatmate with me, hope you don’t mind. Calum had the day off today and I roped him into helping me do the pick-ups.”

Luke’s mouth drops open as Calum Calum sidesteps into the kitchen and smiles at Luke embarrassed. “Uh, hi?”

Luke just gapes, spatula limp in one hand.

“Just going out the front for a sec, Cal, just need to check something with Michael!” Ashton calls quickly exiting the room. Luke thinks he spots a smirk on Ashton’s face and his eyes narrow in suspicion. 

“Uh, sorry for barging in on you like this,” Calum starts, standing awkwardly by the door still. “When Ash said he did deliveries for cafes in the local area I didn’t know he meant yours as well.”

“Missed you this morning,” Luke blurts out, then promptly feels himself turn red, again. Jesus Christ where did that come from? He wants to disappear like, immediately and wonders whether he could shut himself in the walk-in without Calum noticing.

A small pleased smile appears on Calum’s face and he blushes slightly. “I thought it might be a bit desperate to also turn up when I’m not even in the office. But I guess I’m here anyway.”

“Well I’m glad,” Luke says quietly, ducking his head and biting his lip. 

Calum’s eyes twinkle at him. “So this is where the magic happens?” He asks, examining his surroundings.

Luke groans. “Don’t look at it like his,” he begs. “I’m usually such an organised worker I promise, I’m just, having a few issues.” 

Calum smiles and comes over to stand next to Luke. Luke inhales sharply and thinks that Calum smells like the freshly baked bread in Ashton’s van but also something else, sweet and spicy, like a hot cinnamon and apple cake or a warm speculoos biscuit just out of the oven. 

“Can I help with anything while I’m here?” He asks softly, reaching out hesitantly and barely grazing Luke’s elbow. Luke focuses on trying to regulate his breaths which is proving almost impossible with Calum standing so close to him, the feeling of his warm hand through his sleeve and the sight of the concerned smile on his face.

“It’ll be okay I think,” he manages to get out breathily. “Thanks though, that’s very sweet of you.” 

“No, I think that’s you,” Calum says quietly, reddening a bit but looking up to meet Luke’s eyes. 

He reaches out and brushes a hand gently through an escaping curl on Luke’s face.

“You’ve got a bit of flour here.” He says quietly, tilting his head to one side and twisting Luke’s hair around his finger briefly. “And here,” Calum continues, skimming his fingers across Luke’s cheekbone. “Here too,” he murmurs, stepping even closer to Luke and dragging his fingertips under Luke’s chin and down the side of his neck, leaving them to rest curling slightly into the collar of Luke’s shirt and looking at Luke in the eyes. Luke’s not sure if he can breathe, lost in the gentle stroke of Calum’s hand and the swirling chocolate of his eyes, feeling the pink blush dusting across his skin, left in the wake of Calum’s touch. His eyes flicker down to Calum’s lips, and he sees them curve into a smile, before he leans forward slightly and catches Luke’s own lips in a soft kiss.

“Hm,” Calum murmurs as he pulls away slightly. “You taste sweet too.” 

Luke honestly thinks this might be the best moment of his life so far, and slides his hand over Calum’s shoulder to pull him back towards him, but just as he does he hears a scuffling sound from outside the swing door into the main cafe.

“Mikey is that you?” Luke asks suspiciously, stepping away from Calum slightly and turning towards the door. Calum steps back too, but loops an arm loosely around Luke’s waist, fingers playing with the ties of his apron. 

“No,” a voice comes through the door.

“Get in here,” Luke says bossily, “You too Ashton I know you’re out there.”

The two of them appear in the doorway, Michael having the good grace to look a little ashamed but Ashton doesn’t even bother, a huge shit eating grin on his face.

“What is going on here?” Luke demands, narrowing his eyes at the pair of them. He’s trying to stay stern but it's proving very difficult when he can feel Calum’s hands skim along his side and him gently nose his shoulder blade as he huffs out a giggle behind him. 

“What I think is going on is that you, Lukey, and dearest Cal Pal might have been having a moment?” Ashton smirks at the two of them.

“I don’t know how you two are involved in this but I know you are and I want you to explain yourselves,” Luke says petulantly. He then looks at Ashton and Michael closer and catches sight of their hands clasped, hidden slightly behind Ashton. 

“What is going on here?!” Luke repeats again, gesturing at their hands. He sees Michael (and Ashton come to think of it) every day, how has he missed this? Probably because he’s been lost in thoughts of Calum for the last 3 weeks he reasons with himself.

Michael blushes to the roots of his hair and pulls away from Ashton slightly but Ashton just tugs him into his body, curving his hand around Michael's hip and pressing a kiss into his neck before releasing him. 

“Well Michael and I started talking the other week, and we found out that by some miracle that the Calum that happened to be coming in everyday to stare at Luke for 20 minutes and leave, was the same Calum who lives in my flat and won’t stop talking about the gorgeous cake maker who works at the cafe round the corner from his office.” Ashton says, laughing, as Calum makes a wounded noise of protest and hides his face in Luke’s shoulder. “And this very Luke that Calum wouldn’t stop talking about happened to be the Luke that I deliver bread to every morning and apparently won’t stop throwing longing glances at Calum from the other side of the counter when he thinks he’s not looking.”

Luke squeaks, and feels Calum giggle behind him, both arms coming round his waist and dropping his chin onto Luke’s shoulder.

“And you two thought you would mastermind a plan then I suppose,” Calum says amusedly. 

“Why aren’t you more annoyed by this,” Luke gripes, turning his head to try to glare at Calum but managing only to brush his nose against his cheek. 

“Because I got what I wanted out of it, regardless of the method,” Calum says sweetly, and Luke blushes again.

“That doesn’t explain.. This!” Luke gestures at Michael and Ashton, he doesn’t know quite why his brain has fixated on this development when he has Calum basically draped along his back but what has happened in the last 10 minutes has been too much for his brain to handle.

“Well we had to come up with a plan so I asked Ashton if he wanted to go for food,” Michael finally pipes up, a small pleased smile on his face.

“You did?” Luke asks in what he acknowledges is probably quite a rude way but this was a turn of events he was not expecting.

“Well maybe watching you pine so disgustingly made me want to do something about it,” Michael retorts, but there’s no heat in it. 

“I knew the hot cross bun would work,” Ashton says solemnly, and Michael jabs him in the ribs with his elbow.

“Okay, I’ve decided that’s enough of the two of you,” Calum says. “Go and scheme elsewhere now please.”

Ashton laughs and salutes them before tugging Michael out of the back door.

“I honestly can’t believe this,” Luke begins, “they think they can just meddle in our business and force us into the same room together and that we’ll just kiss and they can pat themselves on the back for a job well done?” 

Calum is quiet beside him and Luke turns to look at him. “Well?”

Calum smiles at him, that one that makes Luke feel like he’s floating in sweet mallow clouds and tips his head slightly to the side. “I mean I’m sorry Luke but that’s exactly how it happened, so yes I suppose they can.”

Luke begins to make a noise of protest but Calum just grabs the front of his apron and pulls him back towards him. 

“You can carry this on later, but can we stop talking about Michael and Ashton for one second? I was sort of busy before they came in,”  Calum whispers over Luke’s lips.

“Yeah okay,” Luke responds, leaning into Calum and catching his lips back against his own. 

Calum pulls away after a couple of minutes and brushes another rogue curl out of Luke’s face. “So about that help you turned down earlier, I’m not taking no for an answer. I’ll start cleaning some of these things up and you can get on and do what you do best.” Calum leans in and gives him one last peck before heading over to the sink and starting to run the tap.

Luke smiles, slightly dazed and runs his fingers over his lips, thinking Calum tastes pretty sweet himself, a little bit like the warm vanilla air in his kitchen and a lot like home.

[franboos]

I don’t want to be your friend i want to kiss you neck

a vds college roommate fic

written by @gucciboner and me <3

word count: 2014

chapter two, part 2

previous chapter

Jens has been laying on his bed for the past hour, watching the shadows of the tree branches outside his window dance on the wall. He is extremely bored and totally ignoring all the assignments he has to do for school. He texted Lucas earlier, asking if he wanted to hang out but he wanted to stay at school to work in one of the art rooms. He rolls over onto his stomach and buries his face into his pillow. He supposes he could ask Robbe or Ely if they want to go to the skate park, but if he’s being honest with himself the only person he wants to hang out with at the moment is Lucas.

He hears the front door open downstairs, followed by a loud clang and someone yelling a string of curse words.

He gets up from his bed and opens his bedroom door. “Everything okay?” He shouts into the hallway

“No, can you help me?” Isa calls back.

He walks out of his room and down the stairs. Isa is standing in the open doorway, a grocery bag in her arms that’s ripped in the bottom. He can’t help but snicker at the pile of items laying on the floor.

“I really hope you didn’t break my pickle jar,” he says as he crouches down to pick up some of the things.

Isa follows his movement, “Shit,” she says. “I forgot you pickles.”

Jens pouts while getting back up, arms filled with groceries. “I’ll ask Luc if he can pick some up for me on his way home.”

They walk into the kitchen and start putting the groceries away. Jens examines some of the snacks Isa bought, she definitely made some interesting choices, like cheese out of a tube and peanut butter puffs.

“you can leave the veggies out,” Isa says while half climbing on the kitchen counter to put a bag of Lucas’ shrimp chips on a high shelf. “I’m making lasagna”

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I can’t” she shrugs “But I’m using my friend Liv her recipe.” She grabs a cutting board out of a drawer and shoves it into Jens’ chest. “And you’re going to help me”

He wants to protest, but then he remembers that he has nothing better to do, and that this is a great reason not to do his schoolwork, so he puts the board on the counter and grabs a knife. “Tell me where to begin.”

She tells him to “just cut up some veggies” so he starts by cutting the carrots into tiny pieces. He gets the idea that Isa doesn’t really know what she’s doing by the way she staring at the back of the pasta sheet packaging. She looks up at him and shrugs, “How hard can it be?”

Harder than they both expected. Isa almost burns the ground beef, Jens is pretty sure he added too much pepper into the ricotta mixture by accident, and he’s pretty sure they overcooked the lasagna noodles. But they make it work, they mix the ground beef with the vegetables and Jens just adds some extra parmesan to the mixture.

“So how long have you and Lucas been friends?” Jens asks Isa while putting the first layer of vegetables mixed with ground beef into the oven dish. He can see her smirking at him out of the corner of his eyes, he really wishes she wouldn’t do that every time he brought Lucas up, he’s just curious.

“A really long time.”

He watches her scoop a layer of the creamy sauce on top of the first layer and he wonders what Lucas was like in high school.

“He’s one of the best people I know,” she says while picking up a pasta sheet and carefully placing it in the dish. “He’s been through a lot you know,” she shakes her head immediately after the words leave her mouth, as if she immediately regrets saying it. “The point is, he’s a great friend.”  

Jens smiles while scooping in another layer of the vegetable meat mixture, it’s not like she needed to convince him that Lucas is great, he already figured that out on his own.

He wants to ask her more questions, the curiosity is crawling under is his skin, but before he can do so Ely enters the kitchen.

“You’re cooking?” He asks

“Lasagna,” Isa smiles at him over her shoulder, her chipper expression quickly turning stern when she notices a joint sticking out of the corner of his mouth. “Please don’t smoke that thing in here, you’re going to stink up the whole kitchen.”

He takes it out of his mouth, and pouts at her, putting on his best puppy face.

Isa sighs and rolls her eyes. “Okay fine, just this once.”

He skips towards her and places a big kiss on her cheek, making her nose crinkle in disgust and she quickly wipes her cheek off with the back of her hand.

Jens snorts at the two of them, they have become very comfortable with each other in a short time, in fact, they all have.

“Okay Jens,” Isa turns to him and claps her hand together. “You finish off the last layer and put it in the oven, I’ll go set the table.”

He tips her head at her. “Yes Ma’am”

She takes some plates out of the cupboard and almost drops one while stacking them together in her arms, which earns a loud laugh from Ely, and she glares at him before walking out of the kitchen.

“She’s kind of cute,” Ely says as he hops onto the kitchen counter and takes a long drag from his joint. “Especially when she’s bossing you around like that.” he sheepishly smiles to himself.

Jens frowns at him, looking up from where he was sprinkling grated cheese over the lasagna. “Ely please don’t do anything with one of our roommates.”

“You’re no fun,” Ely huffs at him.

Jens crouches down to open the oven with one hand, the other holding the oven dish and he slides the lasagna in. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“What isn’t a good idea?”  Isa asks who walks back into the kitchen to grab some forks and knives out of a drawer.

“Uh” Jens looks at Ely, who simply shrugs and holds his hands up like he doesn’t know, and then at Isa who points a knife at him and says, “fine don’t tell me.”

They hear the front door open and shut and the footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Jens I bought your pickles,” Lucas says, appearing in the kitchen doorway with a big jar of pickles in his hands.

Jens feels the corners of his mouth turn up, not only because of the pickles that he has been craving all day, but because Lucas looks really cute in his too-big jeans that are torn at the knees and covered in splashes of paint. He’s wearing the red flannel he only wears when he’s paining and his, usually perfectly styled hair hangs messily on his forehead, Jens thinks he might like it better that way.

Lucas stops dead in his tracks, mouth slightly hanging open as he scans the kitchen. “What the fuck happened here?”

Jens looks around, only now noticing how big of a mess they made of the small kitchen. There were red splashes of tomato sauce all over the white tiles of the wall, bell pepper seeds and cheese covering the ground as well as all the dishes and ingredients scattered across the kitchen counter.

Isa closes the cutlery drawer with her hip, “Jens and I made lasagna,” she sticks her tongue out at him while moving past him.

“You couldn’t have done that without making a mess?”

Jens steps towards him and takes the pickle jar out of his hands. “Don’t be ungrateful Luc,” he twists the jar open, making it pop. “I cooked dinner for you and all you do is scold at me?” He’s teasing Lucas but the look on Lucas’face tells him that he doesn’t quite understand that Jens is doing so.

“I’m teasing you Luc,” He tells him, to which Lucas shakes his head, making the curls bounce off his forehead.

Jens shakes the juice off a pickle and entirely stuffs it in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing it. “Besides,” He gestures to Ely who is still sitting on the kitchen counter, completely zoned out. “we’ll just make him clean the kitchen.”

“Yeah right,” Lucas laughs.

This time Jens picks two pickles out of the jar and puts them in his mouth at the same time. “Hmmm,” he points to the jar and swallows. “These are so good.”

Lucas stares at him, his nose wrinkled up and he clearly mouths the word “ew.”

“What?” Jens puts his hand on his chest, acting like he’s offended, “do you have anything against pickles?”  

“Well,” Lucas sighs, just a tad overdramatic. “Yeah”

Jens shakes his head and takes another pickle out of the jar, only this time he doesn’t pop it into his mouth, he waves it right in front of Lucas’ face. “You’re going to eat one.” He says and Lucas ducks his head back when Jens tries to push the pickle into his mouth.

“Jens stop” He laughs as he grabs ahold of Jens’ arm with both his hands.

Jens puts the jar on the counter next to him and uses his free hand to hold onto Lucas shoulder as he tries to squirm his arm out of Lucas’ hold.

“Just try one”

“Okay fine,” Lucas drops his arm and Jens almost misses the firm grasp around his arm.

Lucas opens his mouth and Jens feeds him the pickle. He can’t stop the smile from spreading on his face as he watches Lucas slowly chew with a questionable look on his face.

“And?” he asks once Lucas swallows.

Lucas nods his head slowly with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve never tasted such a good pickle, Jens.”

He’s mocking him, Jens knows he is, but he doesn’t really care.

After that, they have to wait a while for the lasagna to cook. Lucas cleans himself up first, although he doesn’t entirely get the red paint off his hands, before joining Jens, Isa and Ely on the couches in the living room.  Ely is laying with his feet in Isa’s lap and keeps telling her how her hair reminds him of his favourite cheese to which she just quietly nods along while patting his shin. Lucas tells Jens about the painting he’s working on, a big portrait of his mother with bright yellow, orange and red tones. He tells him about this new technique his trying, something with a palette knife, Jens doesn’t entirely understand it but Lucas beams while talking about it so Jens listens and makes small comments here and there to let him know that he listens.

After about twenty minutes or so Isa takes the lasagna out of the oven and Jens calls Friso and Annabell into the living room to join them. They all sit down at the dining table together, except Friso who’s grabbing some glasses that Isa forgot to put on the table.

“Hold up,” Isa says, stopping Ely from taking a bite. “You guys better like it, because Jens and I put our heart and soul into this fucking lasagna.”

“That explains why you two totally neglected the state of our kitchen,” Friso huffs while handing everyone a glass.

Lucas hums while gulping down a bite, “Yeah don’t expect any of us to clean that up.”

“I’m definitely not doing any dishes do you know how gross that is?” Annabell chimes in.

“Fine,” Jens grumbles. “I’ll do it.”

He doesn’t complain though, when Lucas joins him in the kitchen after they’re finished eating and slips on a pair of cleaning gloves.

“You’re helping me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Lucas smiles softly. “You cooked me dinner after all.”

When Jens’ stomach only flutters slightly, he doesn’t think much of it.

[mischiefandspirits]

Parental Bonding: Courtship

S01-E02, part 1 of 2: Danny figures out a new power, gets a date, and lands himself in trouble. Not in that order.

Last time on Living Phantom ~ Next time on Living Phantom

Warning: Implied/Referenced Sibling Abuse (Not onscreen, skip to the bottom for a full description)

Danny came down the stairs, ready to send the annoying Box Ghost back where he came from then spend the next few hours trying to block out what happened at lunch with some mindless video game violence. He paused when he spotted his dad sitting in front of the portal with a fishing rod in hand. He was wearing his fishing vest and had a soda guzzler attached to his fishing hat, sucking at the straw as he watched the swirling green mists.

The half-ghost frowned and tossed his backpack off to the side. “Hey, Dad. What are you doing?”

“Danny, keep it down. You'll scare away the ghosts,” he whispered. He pointed at the rod and Danny realized the line was glowing. “It's the Fenton Ghost Fisher. I'm fishing for ghosts. Check out this line. Coated with a special high-tensile ectoplasmic resin that ghosts can't break.” He focused back on the portal. “Quiet now. Don't wanna spook 'em.”

Danny nodded and turned to leave. He’d have to get rid of Boxy later.

“Whoa! That soda goes right through you like Sherman through Georgia.” His dad suddenly grabbed his shoulder and shoved the rod into his hands. “Here! Hang on to this. I'll be right back after I use the Fenton Urinal.”

Did not need to know that, Danny sighed. Well, at least now he could -

The line started pulling and he scrambled for the reel. The line went taut, then slack.

“Oh no,” he muttered, his breath misting in front of him.

A large claw emerged from the portal, then another. They hooked around the edge as a reptilian snout poked through. It seemed to squeeze through the too-small space as it lengthened and grew into the head of a dragon, electric blue with neon green ear fins and curled horns. It kept coming. First, a barrel chest and wings that didn’t look big enough to carry its weight -- though Danny was pretty sure a ghost dragon didn’t actually need wings to fly -- then forelegs, hind legs, and finally a whip-like tail.

It’s red eyes glared down at him, the end of the fisher caught in its mouth.

Danny flinched back, then his eyes caught on a glimpse of green in the corner of his eye. He looked down and frowned when he realized the dragon’s scales were littered with glowing soot and quite a few claw marks cut into its flesh, dripping ectoplasm that fizzled into nothing before it hit the floor.

“Woah, what attacked you?”

The dragon roared and Danny scrambled back. “I want to go!” it growled, grabbing him in its foreclaw. “I have to go!”

“You'll have to stand in line behind my dad,” Danny joked, then immediately wondered if ghosts could use the bathroom.

Did full ghosts need to eat? Would they eat normal food or ectoplasmic stuff? Would ghost food be closer to his parents' cooking? Did ghosts accidentally bring their  food to life?

No, focus, Danny! “In the meantime…”

He let his transformation wash over him, then let go of his density, becoming a cloud of ectoplasm that slipped through its grip. It tried to claw at him and he dodged around the hits, then pulled back when it started to breathe fire. He arced around the spray then landed a hit to its neck, right on the golden band of the necklace it wore.

It gave a pained roar as it flew back and hit the wall.

Danny flew closer, ready to shove it back into the portal, but it suddenly began to shimmer. It shrunk until it took the form of a young woman. She looked to be in much better health than her dragon form, though there was a darker patch on her green cheek that might have been a burn. The ghost looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “All I wanted was to go to the Princess Costume Ball. And my brother won't let me!”

She started crying and flew into the portal.

Frowning, Danny dropped to the ground and grabbed the fisher. “I hope her brother wasn’t the one that did that to her.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Danny quickly changed back.

His dad came down, new soda cans in hand. “Catch anything?”

“Nope,” he lied and passed his dad the fisher. “I’m going to drop my backpack off in my room then I’m meeting Tucker online for a boss battle.”

“Homework?”

“None today.”

“Alright. Don’t forget, it’s your night for dinner. Jazz has that Debate meeting and your mom won’t be back until Friday.”

“I know. Pizza’s in the oven and timer’s set.”

“Good boy.”

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks to you, I now know the quickest way to a woman's heart: clean boxers,” Tucker joked as he shut his locker.

Danny glared at him then dropped his head. “Man, are you ever going to let that go. I get it, I blew it yesterday.”

Danny sent Sam a scared look, then walked up to the tree Paulina Sanchez was sitting in front of. He tried to lean against the tree and give his crush a smile like the guys on Tucker’s teen dramas, but his hand turned intangible and he ended up falling to the ground.

“Please! Don't say you've suddenly fallen for me,” the popular girl said in a bored voice, not even looking at him. “That line is so last semester.”

Danny blushed and stood up. “Yeah! I-I mean, no! Th-that's not it. I, uh, I was wondering…”

Suddenly his legs felt cold and the people around them started laughing. His blush grew as he looked down to realize his jeans had fallen to the ground. He scrambled to pick them up as Paulina finally looked at him, only to giggle into her hand.

At least it was boxer day, the last thing he needed was to accidentally be outed by his stupid powers on top of everything else.

“A gentleman usually tips his hat, but I'll give you points for originality,” Paulina said.

Suddenly Sam was at his side, her hand on his arm. “Kudos, Danny. You just set an all-time speed record for drowning in the shallow end of the gene pool.”

Paulina stared at her for a moment, then scowled. “Oh, no! You did not just call me shallow, did you?”

“If you mean do I think I can stand in a puddle full of you and not get my feet wet, then yeah.”

“Shallow? I am not shallow!”

Sam tugged him away from the girl, muttering, “As shallow as a drop of water. Ignore her, Danny. You can do so much better.”

Danny glanced over his shoulder to see the popular glaring at them.

“Paulina probably won't even look at me now.”

“Yoo-hoo, Danny!” Danny turned to see the girl they were discussing walking towards them, a flirty smile on her face.

“Or not! Hey, Tuck?”

“I get it. I'm out. Good luck.” He gave Danny a pat on the back then he was gone.

“Hi, you,” she giggled. “I just wanted to -”

Danny’s world went dark and cramped as he was suddenly shoved into his locker, which closed behind him.

“That’s for throwing your lunch on me last week, runt.”

“It was your lunch and it was an accident,” Danny growled.

“Oh hey, Paulina. Just the girl I was looking for.”

Danny glared at the wall of his locker then turned invisible and intangible. He leaned out of the locker to see Dash smirking down at Paulina, who didn’t look impressed.

“So I was thinking… I’m the top man. All-star quarterback and school hero.”

Danny reached towards the larger boy, ready to pull some ghostly prank, only for his hands to sink through Dash. His eyes widened as he felt his powers draw him in.

“You’re the prettiest girl in school.”

He felt himself shrink infinitesimally small, then expand like a balloon to fit a space that wasn’t quite right.

“It would only make sense if we -”

Danny blinked as he found himself in front of Paulina. He looked down at himself to see he was wearing a letterman's jacket and his arms were bulging with muscles. His eyes widened as he realized he was in Dash’s body.

Wow, a whole new kind of dysphoria.

Thanks, I hate it.

“Hello?” Paulina said, waving her hand in front of his face.

“Oh! Right! Of course!”

Paulina raised an eyebrow.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m not going to be at the Spring Formal because I’ve got to scrub my mom’s feet that night. I usually do it every night, but she’s going to need some extra time that night. She’s got these massive bunions, you know. Want to see?”

“Eew! Get lost, loser!”

Danny turned and took a few steps, then pulled back his power. Thankfully he dropped out of Dash as he’d hoped and he was able to slip back into his locker just before Paulina opened it to let him out.

“Why do I suddenly feel like scrubbing my mom's feet?” he heard Dash mutter as Danny smiled at the girl.

He tried to step out of his locker, only to fall on his face.

He waited for Paulina to start laughing at him, but instead, she knelt next to him and winked.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” Her eyes widened and she grabbed something that was hanging out of his backpack. “Oh my gosh! What's that?”

Danny sat up and saw she was holding a necklace. It was gold with a short, almost choker-length band and held a smooth green gem that had a dark band down the center. It looked vaguely familiar, but Danny couldn’t place it. “That? Oh! Uh, it's a, uh…” He looked up at her face to see her staring at the necklace, entranced. “You like it?”

“It's beautiful!”

“Hey, that's great!” As they stood up, Danny had a very bad idea. “Because I, uh, got it for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I-I-In case I got the nerve to ask you to the Spring Formal and you said yes, I thought I'd want to give you something and that's what it would have been. It's for you.”

Danny felt his powers activate and grabbed his pants before they could slip down more than an inch.

“Whether you go with me or not.”

Paulina eyed him with a teasing smile. “Well, you are kind of cute, and you have great taste in underwear. I'd love to go with you.”

She turned away, slipping on the necklace.

He gave a happy sigh, then frowned. “What am I doing? That thing doesn't belong to me. It could be my mom's, or Jazz's.”

“Bye, Danny. See you!”

“Or I could worry about that later. Because she said yes! Woohoo!” He threw his hands up, remembering his pants a second too late.

“Pantless again, Mr. Fenton?” Mr. Lancer asked, walking up behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

“Catch anything, Dad?” Danny asked as he shuffled up behind where his dad was once more in his fishing chair, Fenton Ghost Fisher in hand.

“Son, I couldn't catch a cold. I've been sitting here all day without a single bite.”

Danny hummed and looked down at the slip Lancer had given him. Apparently having your pants accidentally fall down twice was an offense worthy of having your parents called in so now his dad needed to meet with Mr. Lancer in an hour. Well, at least there was only one parent home to get mad.

He took a deep and held up the slip. “Da-”

“I'm so frustrated I want to take out my rage on the first person who gives me bad news.” His dad adjusted his line with a growl. “Anyway, you wanted to tell me something?”

Danny flinched. “Well, sort of. Mr. Lancer -”

His dad stiffened. “Mr. Lancer what? Is this bad news?”

“Mr. Lancer -” An idea hit him and he smirked. He turned intangible and dove into his dad. “- wants to have a word with us!”

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

Pan_Fried69: Are you out yet

Pan_Fried69: How’d it go are you grounded

EcoAce13: I still can’t believe lancer got on you for your pants. How is that your fault!? It’s not like you pulled them down!

Transplanetary: I’m out. Didn’t get in trouble

Pan_Fried69: Sweet

Pan_Fried69: How’s you manage that

Transplanetary: New problem tho

Transplanetary: MY DAD convinced lancer it was because I don’t eat enough and he actually bought it

EcoAce13: What new problem?

EcoAce13: Wait. Danny, tell me you didn’t!!!!!!

Pan_Fried69: Didn’t what

Transplanetary: Mayhaps

EcoAce13: DANNY!!!!!!

Pan_Fried69: What’d he do

Transplanetary: I might have possessed my dad a little

Transplanetary: And by a little I mean for the whole meeting so he doesn’t even know it happened

Pan_Fried69: Nice!!!

Pan_Fried69: Can you do that to my dad the next time I get in trouble

Pan_Fried69: Better yet can you get me a date

EcoAce13: No, not nice! You can’t just take a persons Drew I’ll away from than!

Transplanetary: Forget it. You can get your own date for the dance like I did

Pan_Fried69: Drew I’ll?

EcoAce13: Free will. Wtf autocorrect?

Transplanetary: Drew I’ll

Transplanetary: And trust me I’m paying for it

Pan_Fried69: What happened

Transplanetary: Lancer asked Dad to chaperon the dance and would take no for an answer

Transplanetary: *wouldnt

Pan_Fried69: Guys problema giant ghost dragon at mall!!!!!

Transplanetary: OMW

EcoAce13: Why are you at the mall?

Pan_Fried69: All the hot people are here

Pan_Fried69: There’s a big sale at Abyss and some football star is signing stuff at Sports Victors

Pan_Fried69: Danny’s fighting the ghost

EcoAce13: So you mean all the brain dead people are there.

EcoAce13: How’s he doing?

Pan_Fried69: He just got knocked into weenie on a skewer

Pan_Fried69: Then calles himself a weenie

EcoAce13: Figures, the idiot.

Pan_Fried69: At least he’s got a date unlike us

EcoAce13: Maybe if I was as pretty as PAULINA. 🙄

Pan_Fried69: The ghost just disappeared

Transplanetary: I don’t know where it went, but that’s the second time I’ve fought it. We need to investigate

EcoAce13: Are you okay?

Transplanetary: Also why are you so down on Paulina? So she’s pretty, it’s not a crime

Transplanetary: I’m fine

EcoAce13: Looks are de icing, Danny.

EcoAce13: *deceiving

Pan_Fried69: Great now if only I could get a date

Pan_Fried69: Well then

Pan_Fried69: Apparently the dragon and Danny were a prank using smoke and a projector

EcoAce13: You’ve got to be kidding me

Pan_Fried69: They just made an announcement ove the intercom

Transplanetary: Trust me people will make as many excuses as possible to avoid admitting ghosts are real

Pan_Fried69: How would projections even do all that stuff

Transplanetary: No clue

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

The Amulets of Aragon

The Amulets come from a Spanish tale about a noble family residing within the medieval Kingdom of Aragon who attempted to usurp the King. Wanting the crown for himself, the lord asked his sister to use witchcraft to create two amulets that would allow them to transform themselves into powerful dragons. The king learned what was to happen and had his knights storm the lord’s manor. The knights captured the lord and lady before the amulets could be completed and the two were burned as witches.

The King’s victory was short-lived, however, as the two nobels returned as vengeful spirits. What they failed in life, they accomplished in death as upon their necks were the amulets the brother had longed for. Together the spirits burned the king’s castle to the ground in a storm of blue and green flames.

The legend goes on to say that any who stole the amulets from the lord or lady could gain their power, but they would have no control over it. They would be captives to their distress or anger and lash out blindly.

“Are you sure this is what we’re looking for?” Tucker asked, looking over the webpage. “Just sounds like some fairytale.”

“No, I think she’s onto something, look at the pictures,” Danny said and Tucker opened the gallery.

The first few pictures were medieval art of similar-looking black and purple dragons; though none seemed to be able to agree if it had bat or bird-like wings, scales or feathers, two or four legs, and ears or horns. Those were followed by more dragons, these blue and green. These were just as mismatched, but even then…

“Okay, the blue one kind of looks like your ghost dragon.”

“And Danny said the ghost looked medieval and mentioned her brother right?” Sam pointed out.

“Huh, that's the amulet I gave to Paulina. It must have accidentally fallen into my backpack. Wait. You mean… I'm going on a date with a dragon?” Danny gasped.

Tucker scrolled down to see pictures of the amulets. The stone settings looked the same, though one was on a long chain while the other had a collar band. The latter looked just like the necklace Paulina had been wearing the past two days.

Sam gave a snort. “Like I said, looks are deceiving. I'm sure you two will have a wonderful evening at the dance.”

“Thanks,” Danny deadpanned.

Suddenly Danny sent him a text.

Tucker gave his friend a confused look, but opened it.

👻Boo Boy: She really wants to go to the dance

Me: But she says she doesn’t want to

👻Boo Boy: Were her best friends

“What are you going to do to stop her?” Sam asked.

👻Boo Boy: We should have known

Me: Well there’s nothing we can do about it now right

“There’s no way you can just ask for the necklace back,” Tucker said, “not without a good reason.”

Me: Right

Me: Danny

When Danny didn’t reply, Tucker looked up at the video chat.

Danny was giving him a smirk.

Me: No way forget it ABSOLUTELY NOT NO

“Maybe I can say it’s a family heirloom?” Danny suggested.

👻Boo Boy: Tuck

Me: I just found out Kwan bailed on Valerie

Me: VALERIE

Me: She’s like a luster adjacent

“But then why would you have given it away?" Sam said.

Me: If I act fast I can catch her on the rebound

👻Boo Boy: Come on Tuck

Me: You come on

Me: Why don’t you just take her

“I don’t know! Ugh!” Danny groaned.

👻Boo Boy: What part of “going on a date with a dragon” didn’t you get? Paulinas likely to scorch the town if I bail on her

Me: Plus it’s Paulina

👻Boo Boy: I mean yeah that too but that’s not what’s important right now

Me: Uh huh 🤔

👻Boo Boy: I’m serious Tuck

👻Boo Boy: Do it for Sam

Tucker tried to give Danny an annoyed look, only to find his friend giving him puppy eyes.

Abort! Abort! He tried to look away, but it was too late.

Me: This is so unfair!!!!!!!

Danny smiled quickly then glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, I think I hear Jazz calling me. We can talk more later. See you guys!”

And he was gone.

“Well bye,” Sam said, rolling her eyes. “I should probably go too.”

“Wait, Sam,” he called before she could end the call. He glanced down at his phone, Valerie’s twitter still open on the app’s tab, and sighed. “I was wondering since neither of us have dates, do you want to go as friends? It’d be better than just sitting around at home. Plus, we can make fun of Danny and his dragon date.”

Sam frowned and glanced to the side. “Uh, I don't know. This is so last minute. And I do have plans, and -”

Tucker perked up. “If you don’t want to -”

“Okay, but only because you couldn’t get a date. Might as well put that lame dress my parents bought me to use. Tell Danny I’ll take care of transportation for us four. I need to make some appointments. See you tomorrow!” Sam said quickly before she ended the call.

Tucker blinked then slumped back with a groan. He closed Twitter and texted Danny.

Me: Sam’s parents are driving us to the dance

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

I had fun with the trio's chat names and Danny's contact. I'm still unsure about Sam's chat name, but the next best idea I had was AsexuWhale and a pun like that didn't feel right for her.

Warning Description: Dora is described as being beaten up and it’s hinted that her brother was the one who did it. It's rather minor, but I felt it necessary to list just in case.

[iwritefanficion]

Can you do a Roman jealousy smut fic?

Of course my dear! I think I’m getting better at this stuff. It may be a little bit different than what you were expecting but here you are! Also because you didn’t put a ship I’m going to assume you wanted x reader. 

Warnings: Smut, swearing. 

~

The day had been going well, so, so well. The two of you were having a lovely time together. It was date night, so Roman took you to a fantastic restaurant with wonderful food, delightful wine, and so much class one could feel like they were being executed in the French Revolution just by entering the place.

Like any date with Roman, it hadn’t ended there. He took you for a walk in a nearby park, stunning, especially late at night. The evening was gorgeous, clear sky so the stars shined above. It wasn’t chilly but Roman still gave you his jacket because that’s just who he was. 

Then everything went to shit. 

Your ex, who had just happened to see you, decided to make himself invited to your date. It was in the middle of a public park, so you couldn’t make a scene without drawing unwanted attention. 

Your relationship with him did not end well, especially after you found out he was hooking up with other girls on the side. You had then blocked him on all social media and effectively cut him out of your life. He did try to talk to you- for the first month or so anyway but after being ignored, he stopped. 

Why did the world seem to hate you?

Oh, and Roman was such a sweetheart. When your ex wandered up to the two of you and tried to chat you up, asking about your life and such, you told Roman who he was in a very flat voice. He knew you didn’t want a scene, you didn’t like fusses, you just wanted him to leave with little argument. 

“So, you’re the guy she replaced me with?” Was the first thing he said to Roman after you didn’t respond to any of his questions. He looked your prince up and down, obviously finding Roman not suitable. “Wow, she lowered her standards considerably.”

“Shut up, asshole,” you hissed, shooting him the nastier glare you could muster. Replacement was a strong word, Roman didn’t replace him because he was so much better. It’s like using a microwave all your life and then learning to use an oven. 

You just wanted to leave. You didn’t even want to argue with him. 

“You’re trash,” Roman said, anger flickering in his eyes, his face hard. It was almost terrifying, seeing him so calm and angry. When he got angry, he mostly just insulted people and threw a bit of a fit. But this… this was something new. “You never deserved her, you are worthless. I have never seen someone so horrible, someone who would take something so beautiful and discard it. She deserves someone who will love her like the princess she is and unlike you, I will do just that.”

You blinked in surprise at Roman, mouth ajar. You loved him so much, and just hearing those words made your heart flutter. A grin danced on your lips, genuine and incapable of stopping. 

Your ex, however, laughed at his words. “Oh, please,” he said, amused. His hand shot out and grabbed onto your wrist, tugging you close to him so you were chest to chest. 

“What-”

His hand cupped your cheek, silencing any words that would have come out. This was so familiar, something you experienced with him in the best moments of the relationship. It would be naive of you to say the whole relationship was horrible because it wasn’t.

“Y/N, don’t you miss it?” He was smiling, a look in his eyes that he used to give you when the two of you shared the softest times. You hated to admit it but you did miss it. “Don’t you miss us? The way we used to dance in the middle of the living room? The way we laughed at horror movies that were too stupid not to laugh at? Don’t you miss the way our lips moved together?”

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, which parted slightly from the top lip. All the memories came rushing back to you. The relationship, besides how the two of you parted, was going so well. 

“What about the way we made love? Or the little food fights we would have when we made cupcakes?” He leaned closer, breath fanning your face. You hated how much his words affected you. You hated having all these great memories being shoved down your throat. “Don’t you remember?”

“I do,” your voice was nothing but a croak, keeping your eyes locked with his. He was grinning, the grin that used to make your heart melt. But… it didn’t anymore. 

You would never have what you once did. Besides, you didn’t love him, not anymore. You loved Roman. 

Roman’s stomach churned, a spark of anger firing through his veins. He never would have thought you would ever be even considering him again. Jealousy burned through his chest, flushing his skin. 

“We’re going home,” Roman grabbed onto your arm, not hard, but enough to pull you into him instead of your ex. There was no room for argument. 

You looked at your boyfriend, a bit shocked at the hostility in his tone as he glared down your ex. A silent nod was the only response you gave, unable to form any words. 

He dragged you away, the faint yelling of your ex coming from behind you but your ears were ringing. All you could focus on was Roman. 

~

As soon as you got home, you were shoved into the door, Roman’s lips covering yours in a fervent kiss. He nipped at your bottom lips, tongue invading your mouth as soon as he gained access. 

You moaned into the kiss, melting against his warm body pressed against you. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, bringing him as close as he could get. This was forward, even for him, and you loved it. 

“You miss him,” Roman growled, jealousy brewing in his voice, “you were actually considering taking him back?!” His teeth skimmed your jaw before sinking into the spot right below your jaw, drawing a small whimper from your lips. 

“No,” was your breathy reply, “Roman, no.” Fuck, he was taking this way out of proportion. And as great as this felt, you knew it wouldn’t solve anything. 

“You said it- you admitted it-” he cut off his own words with another bite to your neck, fingers digging into your hips. You let out another moan, muffling it by tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Roman- ah fuck!” He bit into your neck again, moving down the skin. “Please, listen. Yes, I miss the memories of him, not him! I love you, it’s not even a choice, I would never leave you for him!” 

He pulled away from your bruising neck, gazing at your flushed face, feeling your chest heave up and down as harsh pants left your lips. Oh- oh. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, guilt overriding the jealousy he felt, “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not mad,” you smiled, your tone sultry and full of lost, “that was so fucking hot.” You pulled him close again, capturing his lips. The kiss was passionate, heated but still full of love. 

“Fuck me,” you pleaded, grinding against him desperately, “please.” 

The anger, the jealousy, the way he used those negative feelings for such rough pleasure was so fucking good. You wanted more. Heat pooled in your stomach, and you could feel the cloth down below soak in your juices. 

Roman smirked, the gesture sending jolts down your body. God, why did he have to be so fucking hot?! 

“With pleasure,” came the husky reply, strong hands lifting you from your thighs. A small yelp left your throat, and you clung to him. A chuckle erupted from his throat before he pulled you into another searing kiss. 

You didn’t even realize you were in your bedroom until you were thrown on the bed. Out of breath, you gazed up at your lovely boyfriend as he stripped himself of his jacket and shirt. Eyes scanning over the torso, you bit your lip with a grin. 

“Strip,” he commanded, eyes locking with yours. Authoritative, determined, dominant. Oh, that voice sent shivers down your spine. You obeyed, unzipping your dress and letting it fall off your body before throwing it to a corner of the room. 

Before you had the chance to remove your panties, Roman was there, pushing you down and crawling on top of you. He rutted against your clothed heat, pants removed, and face buried in your neck, biting and sucking any skin that was unmarked. 

You mewled, your body growing warm. The delicious friction made your knees weak and you were thankful you were already laying down. Warm fingers trailed down your body, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. They went all the way down to your heat, rubbing the wet fabric between your legs. 

“Tease,” you grumbled, growing impatient. That earned another smirk from the man above you, one that made you glare and pulling him into another kiss, biting his bottom lip in retaliation. He chuckled, purposely slowing the kiss, which you growled at. 

As he kissed you, Roman pulled your panties to the side and wet his fingers against your folds. You gasped into the kiss, nails digging into his bare shoulders. Bucking to try and gain more friction, you whimpered pleadingly. 

“So needy,” his laugh was right in your ear, soft and sexy. “You’re so wet and I’ve hardly touched you.”

You opened your mouth to give a snappy retort but his fingers entered you. Instead of words, all that came from your mouth was a shameless moan. Fuck- oh your bastard of a boyfriend was so going to get it- oh shit. The way he curled his fingers hit that spot in you that felt so fucking good. Revenge could wait.

“Fuck me already!” You cried, wanting to be filled. Fingers were nice but it was no substitute for his hard cock. You were so close to begging because you were so turned on it hurt. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Roman said playfully, taking off your underwear in a single fluid moment. Then off came his own. He lined up his cock with your heat, looking at you for confirmation, in which he received a nod, before plunging in.

“Fuck!” You screamed, letting out a loud moan. He fit you so well, filling you, stretching you. There was a burn, so wonderful and divine. “Please, Roman, move!” 

You were sobbing as he started thrusting into you, not bothering to go slow. Just how you liked it. The pleasure was overwhelming, white-hot heat bubbling beneath your skin. Every snap of his hips hit deep inside you, reaching that one spot that made you cry out. You were a blubbering mess, the only thing you could say- well, scream was more accurate- was his name. 

White spots danced along your vision, your brain going mushy. You could hear Roman grunting above you, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. You were so close, so fucking close, just a little more, a little… more. 

“I’m cumming!” Roman groaned, head falling to your shoulder as he rode out his orgasm, his thrusts becoming sloppy as ropes of his seed shot out, coating your walls, his cock twitching inside you as he came, hard. 

You called out his name, your legs spasming as your own orgasm took over, coating his member in your slick fluids. 

Exhausted, you both slumped, Roman on top of you. You panted harshly, still coming off your high. A lazy smile stretched across your face. Your fingers combed through his sweat-soaked hair, a feeling of peace and love settling in your chest. 

“That was wonderful,” you commented with a laugh, your eyelids growing heavy. Fuck, that orgasm was intense. 

Roman managed to pull himself up, a proud smile decorating his face. He kissed you, slowly and softly, a gentleness that was much appreciated after the rough session. 

“We should clean up,” he said, though there was no real conviction in his voice. You pulled him to you, switching positions so he was laying on the bed and you were beside him. 

“Tomorrow,” you promised with a yawn, snuggling upon his chest. “M’tired.” 

Roman’s arms encircled you, giving you some much-needed warmth, and pulled a blanket over the two of you. He kissed the top of your head, listening to your breathing getting slower and eventually watching you fall into a peaceful slumber. He followed your lead, smiling a tender smile.

~

Hope you enjoyed! This was fun to write! I wish you like reading it as much as I liked writing it.

[for-bucks-sake]

An Apron is Just a Cape On Backwards (Not a Superhero).

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word count: 6K. This is a whole beast. I hope that’s not too bad.  Warnings: all the fluff!, some angst, smut!! (threesome, DP, fingering, attempt thigh riding.) ,some bad language, LOVE. And for the mad people who haven’t seen it yet: Endgame spoilers.  Summary: Everything was lost, but then it wasn’t. Reader, Steve and Bucky have to make up for lost time. Soon they find it not as easy as they thought, especially because one of them didn’t actually lose anything.  A/N: Some guy was annoying the shit out of me, trashing Steve and Bucky’s friendship, so I cheered myself up by writing a second part that literally no one asked for (also I might’ve written this only bc I’m obsessed with naming my fics weird shit). So this is part 2 of Missing Is a Recurring Theme! Hope you like it! (Also, I am a whore for artist!Steve.) **If anyone is interested, I actually have some spare time, so...Requests are open!

Gif is not mine.

“Hot Stuff Coming Through?” Y/n squinted to read the printed words on Bucky’s ridiculous apron, realization hitting her and she threw her head back, ringing laugh pleasantly filling the room, “when did you get this?”

Bucky was the only one standing in the kitchen. No sign of Steve. His growing hair was tied up on the top of his head in a failed bun, miserable strands of hair escaping it only to be coated with sweat and unidentified powders. Somehow, he managed to already severely stain the black apron and the breathable black t-shirt he wore underneath, spatula in one hand and a knife in the other.

“We got it yesterday,” he said innocent enough, flexing his impressive biceps in different poses, showing off his great new purchase. Y/n breathed, shaking her head, “Wait until you see Steve’s, and yours, of course! Which reminds me, get out of the kitchen!.” “You called me here!” She protested, hitting Bucky with the book she held; Oh, how she wished it wasn’t a paperback. “We’re working on a surprise for you, Darling. You have to keep your eyes closed, or at least stand with your back to us.” “Sure thing, Hot Stuff.” She chuckled, turning around just in time to face Steve going through the kitchen door, wearing a nearly identical apron, clear bag in his hand.

“I got the colors but I’m not sure we have enough blu-“ startled, he stopped talking when he saw her, just in time to hear Bucky’s loud demands he shuts the fuck up. “Colors? What are you two planning? It’s not even my birthday.” Steve gifted her with one of his loop side smiles, “I only said it to throw you off, sweetheart.”

He went around her and passed the plastic bag to the metal arm reaching for him in a sleek motion, pausing for a second above her head indecisively before  kissing the top of it. Bucky’s heart nearly skipped a beat.

Y/n touched Steve’s shoulder as a response, brushing the bare spot the white fabric of his shirt didn’t cover, it was somehow quieter than before.

Bucky cleared his throat, “hypothetically speaking, if we wanted to bake a cake.” Y/n opened her mouth, but was cut when he continued, “hypothetically! Do we really need to add eggs? Back in the day only flour and water were enough.”

“OH MY GOD.” She groaned at Steve’s amused face,

“So…Is that a yes?” Bucky asked again, looking genuinely lost,

“I’m out of here!” Y/n almost sang, stressing the the last words. She left the room, unlocking her phone while imagining the horrors said room is going to go through.

She stepped back, pulling herself closer to the kitchen space, but never entering - only her head visible - “I sent you a link, there are thousands of recipes for cakes. Just choose one.”

They looked grateful, hands petting their pockets, already looking for their phones, “thank you, doll”

She nodded, almost leaving again; “you sure you don’t need help?” She asked on a second thought, blinking and bringing her arms to her sides,

“We’ll be okay,” Bucky said, “besides, this is supposed to be a surprise, c’mon, let us do something nice for you for once.”

She bit her bottom lip and sighed, “Ok, whatever you want.” She stepped out of the kitchen again, “Just, please don’t paint the kitchen with food coloring, it’s going to be a hell to clean up.”

“I told you, there would be no colors involved!” Steve yelled after her, followed by a not so subtle snort from Bucky.

“I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to lie!” Y/n fired back, making herself comfortable on the sofa, opening the book at the marked page. She heard Bucky laughing again, this time joined by his partner in crime,

“Well, good thing we’re not ones anymore!”

Domestic really suited them, she then thought, and happiness might make her explode.

-

“Stevie, this is…I’m at a loss of  words. It’s amazing.” Bucky always did love to praise him, all the way back to the 20th century. He could feel him, soft man inside soft clothes, behind him. Breath warm and light on his neck, making the small hairs erect from the proximity.

“It’s not even finished yet, you really think she’s gonna like it?” Steve eyed his work, melting into Bucky’s touch as he wrapped solid arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder and humming into his skin.

“I know she will.”

Steve shifted his body, turning around to meet a beautiful pair of eyes, today more grey than blue; like ocean skies early in an April morning. It’s a little game he likes to play with himself - what did Bucky’s eye color resemble today? In all the years he played, he didn’t get the same answer twice.

“What?” The skies in his eyes chuckled along when Steve stared too long, the skin around Bucky’s eyes wrinkled, a pleasant reminder of how his life had changed, laughter so acquainted with his face it decided to leave a permanent mark.

“Nothin’.” Steve smiled at the thought, feeling the hands around his middle tightened, “I just love you.”

Bucky licked his lips, gaze falling quickly to a pink, delicious mouth he could never resist. Their breaths were heavy, warm, mixing in the small space between them until Steve reached for his hair, resting his elbows on Bucky’s broad shoulders as he found his bun, fingers digging into it, messing it up impossible more, strands of hair falling to frame his face.

“Steve,” Bucky swallowed, nose brushing against nose, so close to him, he spoke into Steve’s own lips.

“Yeah?” He breathed, teeth nibbling at Bucky’s bottom lip, beard grazing his smooth jaw,

“Kiss me.”

Their mouths connected, Steve’s hands still in Bucky’s hair, knotting and pulling harder, forcing him closer; Bucky gasped, head tilted right as he found a better access, his tongue moving slowly over Steve’s lips, sucking on the corner of his mouth. Steve panted Bucky’s name, releasing one of his hands from his hair and bringing it to cup his jaw; right hand pulling his chin up, allowing Steve to trace his tongue on the warmth of Bucky’s, pressing his teeth lightly into his lower lip. 

They smelled like baking, with the faintest hint of sweat. Bucky’s pulp lips sugary to the taste, probably from all the bites he snuck into his mouth, ignoring Steve’s protests.

Metal hand soothed up and down his back, chilly material still unusual to the skin even through a t-shirt. Steve leaned his back against the counter, parting the kiss with a wet sound. Bucky smiled lazily, eyes hooded  as he nuzzled his face into Steve’s neck, fluttering kisses into his most sensitive spots,

“God.” He signed, brushing lips against the sharp edge of Steve’s jawline, “I miss your beard.”

-

Screams from the kitchen was all she heard before she threw her book to the side, cursing everything in the world she had to abandon the last ten pages unread.

Muffled swearing, a terrified “Steve.”, a burnt small and when she entered the kitchen, grey smoke.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, catching her breath but still very much alarmed.

“Nothing!” One of them said in an unnaturally high squeak she couldn’t recognize. Steve cleared his throat, “nothing.” He said again, more composed, fanning furiously the smoking oven along with Bucky.

Once the loud beeping sound stopped - smell still strong and unpleasant in their noses, but the black screen died down - they faced her, the epitome of innocence with their boyish smiles, posture hunched as they fiddled with their hands, looking astonishingly alike.

“We’re sorry.” Steve said, eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to look up, “it’s m’fault. I was so busy paint- working on something else I got distracted-“

“No no, we both know it’s on me, I should’ve-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Y/n said, arms crossed against her chest as she cut them both sharply, they could be so serious sometimes. “All you did was burn half the kitchen! Lighten up guys.” She continued before they had a chance to speak, “there are no faults, I’m not mad.” She smiled, as to convince them she was telling the truth.

Both men exhaled at the same time, relieved the mess they made wasn’t gonna get them in trouble. “I can’t be mad at you, c’mon.” Y/n said wholeheartedly, bringing her arms to the side and walking forward, nudging their shoulders as to cheer them up, “I’m just upset you worked all day for nothing.” She sighed, searching for their hands, she took Bucky’s metallic palm in her right, and Steve’s in her left.

“It’s not entirely for nothing.” Bucky motioned, cupping her face, calloused flesh holding delicate features. He smiled at her, then at Steve, standing inside their impromptu circle made of limbs- “Now,” a dopey grin smudge his red lips, looking proud of himself, “we can get pizza!”

-

“You seemed a little too keen on throwing out all the food you’ve worked on, don’t you think? And look at the road!”

Bucky chuckled, stirring his gaze from her to the black sedan in front of them, “I’d much rather look at you, sugar.” He teased in a sickeningly sweet voice, y/n rolled her eyes, pretending to puke. “No one is moving anyway.” He hit the wheel in frustration, she swore she heard it creaks, “and for your question, darl’,” Bucky looked at her again, “I am extremely,” he stressed, “bummed out it didn’t work. And I mean EXTREMELY. Besides, it wasn’t the main surprise, Steve’s still working on it at home.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed, gently touching his jaw and guiding it to face forward; he opened his mouth, tilting his head down to try and bite her finger, he grazed it with his front teeth and kissed it. Her smile turned to a loud laugh as a very enthusiastic driver honked his horn off behind them, universal way of signaling someone to fucking drive. Bucky didn’t have to look to see the “I told you so” all over her face.

“Shut up.” He muttered under his breath,

She pursed her smiling lips, looking innocent as ever, “I didn’t say anything.”

-

They drove in silence, Bucky hummed to the beat of her fingers drumming on the window.

“Is something wrong?” He said suddenly, making y/n jolt herself up.

“Is there something that should be wrong?” She asked, confused by the unforeseen question,

He sighed heavily, “with you and Steve…I mean.”

Oh shit. “I don’t think so, no.” She swallowed, picking at her fingernails.

“I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to lie.” Damn them, both of them and their way of knowing exactly what she feels.

“I’m not a superhero.”

“You are to me.” He said quietly, both looking intensely at the road.

“I’m not lying,” she exhaled, bringing her abused nails to her lips, biting, “it’s just… Everything is good, you know? Great. I love you, I love you both more than ever.” She shifted in her sit again, visibly uncomfortable.

“We never talked about this.” Her voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper, “I mean really talked about this. When you were gone…it was hard to keep going like everything was normal, so we somehow adjusted to a new normal, our normal. And then you came back, which I’m grateful for, everyday.” She bit her bottom lip, bringing her legs closer to her lap.

“I wake up and I see you, I see him, and I want to cry. Cry because I never thought I would be this lucky again. But when you came back we had to discover the old normal again, remember it, face the damage our previous poor way of coping did to us. Five years is a long time, Buck.”

She was holding her breath, Bucky could tell, the way she was holding her thoughts up until now.

He often forgot. He hated the feeling of memories disintegrating from his grip, in small, unnoticeable bits that he worked so hard scraping together. Most of the things come back to him eventually, the good and the bad. But this was a different type of forgetting; this time he had nothing to remember.

Sometimes it just hit him, when he watched them. How everything so drastically changed when he was gone. He saw it in the dark circles around her eyes, never seemed to fade or to brightened, no matter how much time had gone or how well rested she was. Sometimes it was in the new crease on Steve’s forehead, a grounding reminder that they, too, can run out of time. Sometimes he saw it in their faints attempts to wake up early for morning runs, can’t keep up even when they do. Sometimes it was in the hesitation in Steve’s eyes, every time he came in contact with her skin, almost afraid she doesn’t want his touch anymore.

For Bucky there was nothing to remember, but for them- there was too much to forget.

And he hated it, blaming himself in true Bucky Barnes fashion. Like he had any say on the matter. Sometime, he thinks that if he had, he’d tell them to move on.

Bucky’s life were hard on him, cruel, even - but they also taught him that time was invaluable. Precious seconds and moments had to be clenched on to, not be wasted, not be overlooked; that’s how he knew they should’ve let go. Instead of latching onto the memory of him, distant fading version of  the man he is in their minds, they could’ve started over, make their new normal a permanent one. They could’ve learned to love each other without him. They could’ve healed.

In a greedy, ugly pit inside the dark depths of his heart he was glad they didn’t, selfishness getting the best of him, thinking he might have killed himself if he woke up only to realize he doesn’t have anyone to wake up to.

Five years is a long time.

He gripped the wheel harder with two hands, nearly creating small valleys in the shape of his fingers, “He loves you.” He hushed, in a way that was almost intimate, like a secret.

“I know.”

“Sometimes I think he is going to break. He lost me so many times. Too many times in one lifetime. If he didn’t have you…He would’ve.”

“I would’ve, too.” Y/n whispered,

“I know.” He said softly, body loosen up as he spoke, “you kept each other together, you saved each other from falling apart. That’s love.”

She stayed quiet as Bucky found a parking spot, squeezing the car in a tight fit.

Her mind was roaming, she had a lot to think about.

“Let’s go?”

-

“God I missed this place.” Bucky beamed at the smell, his entire demeanor changes as they walked into the small pizzeria. Fresh dough was baking, a game was on on the beat up TV screen near the freezers, fluorescent lights planting small stars inside his eyes. Suddenly, y/n felt different, too.

They found their way between the tables, an old woman with a child were sitting to their right, a young couple to their left, some elderly men yelled at the television, heating up in a meaningless argument over the players.

They reached the cashier, first in line. His eyes looked tired, yet he treated them with a smile accompanied with a cheerful “what can I get ya?”,not letting the long shift get to him. “We’d like two large pizzas please, one with extra cheese…” Bucky’s voice faded as she dived deeper into her thoughts. His left hand was light on the small of her back, chilling the narrow strip of skin revealed when her t-shirt rode up.

Y/n looked around, tuning down the talking and the noise even more, only to catch a glimpse of a familiar face, now very less bearded, somehow younger looking. A small towel in a soft yellow hung from his shoulder, and the friendly smile that was always there didn’t disappoint, directed to her yet again. He nodded as their gazes crossed, an undisputed spark of recognition floating inside his eyes as he glanced quickly at Bucky.

The old man didn’t stay much longer, responding to the loud “dad!” calls from the back by returning quickly, not before he caught y/n nodding back, latching Bucky closer.

-

They drove in silence. Y/n trying to balance the square boxes on her lap as Bucky allowed himself to steal a slice, taking a bite every time they stopped at a red light.

“This is,” he announced with his mouth full, defying the quiet, “the best pizza ever!”

She chuckled, tightening her grip around the sides of the steaming carton, “save the declarations for Steve, I don’t really care for it either way.”

“You have to decide which side are you on!” Bucky said, finishing and swallowing his bite, looking at her, “playing both sides isn’t going to work any longer baby.”

“ROAD!” She grunted, momentarily losing her balance and falling forward, almost covering her entire sit with cheese and sauce.

“Y/n? You okay?” Bucky’s voice was concerned, and he was looking at her, again.

“I’m fine! Stop looking at me!” She moved, adjusting to a more comfortable position,

“C’mon now, you know I can drive us safely with my eyes closed.”

“I’m sure you can, you’ve had a lot of practice, too?” She scuffed,

“As a matter of fact,” he tensed, smiling sadly, “I have.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the drive, and Bucky didn’t stir his eyes from the highway.

-

“Time for the surprise!.” Bucky announced after they sat down, eating wordlessly except from his occasional blissful moans, and Steve’s grumpy noises of disgust.

Y/n looked down at him, baffled. Her hands paused their continuant motion in the past twenty minutes. He sat between her legs, hard feelings long forgotten - placated by tender twining of fingers through his hair; chipped nails gently scratching his scalp and slowly descending to the top of his shoulders.

Steve looked up as well, tossing his pepperoni slice back to the box, willingly abandoned. “Sure. I’ll go get it.”

Y/n glanced at Steve, immediately bringing her gaze down to Bucky again, “C’mon, you really shouldn’t have.”

They both dismissed her, getting up and disappearing in the kitchen.

Y/n followed them with her gaze, despite her protests she was giddy with excitement, what it was didn’t matter - the thought of how hard they worked on it all day was enough to make her happy with whatever they made.

Blond head emerged from the room first, quicker than she thought, followed by Bucky- their hands bearing gifts;

Steve held three aprons, and what looked like a tray with a knife on it, laying next to something that was covered, she couldn’t see what it was.

Gently pushing the nearly empty pizza boxes, Steve placed the tray on the table, tossing each the matching clothes.

“Are we really gonna wear them?” Hers was different, printed colors all over it, and even in its folded state she had a vague idea what was on it.

“Open it!” Bucky clapped after he finished tying his behind his back. He was a little too enthusiastic. She caught a glimpse of Steve smiling conspicuously, can’t keep a straight face as she unfolded the apron, revealing a picture of a very detailed, hairy belly. Rolls that seemed like they were acquired by abusing the use of beer, and a pair of man boobs that horrifiedly were too similar to her own for her liking.

Both men howled with laughter, can’t contain themselves any longer when she put it on.

“Do you like it?” Bucky snickered, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes.

“You know what?” She raised an eyebrow, checking herself out, “It’s kinda growing on me.” How unbelievable it was that technically, those men were over a hundred years old.

“Good.” Steve tried to keep a straight face, failing miserably, “because you’re never, you’re never taking this off.”

“Oh, never? Not even for…?” Y/n bit her lips suggestively, looking at them as they looked at each other. She was just teasing, getting them riled up as a payback. She was trying to be funny, but their expressions weren’t as playful.

She stayed in her place, untying the ridiculous apron, unbuttoning her jeans and letting it fall down to her hips.

That was quick, she thought as they walked towards her in unison, trapping her between them and the couch.

Bucky pushed down the denim, letting her step out of it while he sat, parting his legs and pulling her down for a kiss.

Steve tangled his long fingers in her hair, smoothly pressing her against Bucky’s lips, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth; Bucky groaned, hoisting her up on his lap, desperately seeking more friction. His metal arm clutched her waist with a force she knew was going to leave bruises, his other hand was holding her head in place, replacing Steve as he began to kiss her neck, sucking at the skin until it was red and angry. He smirked when she cried out, breaking the kiss only for Bucky to pull her back in. Steve licked at the ruptured blood vessels, soothing them with his tongue before he moved to a new patch of skin.

Y/n gripped Bucky’s shoulder, dire for even the slightest relief, grinding against his clothed crotch, using him to keep her balance. She was suddenly stopped when his arm held her hips steady, not allowing her to move.

“Uh, uh sweetheart,” She heard Steve rasping in her ear, biting at her earlobe, making her squirm under him, “you’re not getting off that easy.”

It was like they found their rhythm again, like buying a new record of old songs; they held her between them, undressing themselves and what’s left of her clothes, not even bothering to leave the couch.

Being so close to them was like a cure; nothing could touch her, nothing but them. She felt the weight of Steve’s lips on hers, tracing his soft tongue on her teeth, breathing lightly into her, opening her mouth for him. She didn’t need anything else.

Bucky found her right breast, bare and soft, with only the contrast of her hardening nipple reacting to his slow circles around it, only stopping to pinch her pink nub, rolling it between his fingers. He chuckled softly when her breath hitched, clinging to Steve’s naked chest and pushing her ass closer to Bucky’s cock.

She shifted on his lap, somehow; now facing Steve, mouth on his, and her back to Bucky, allowing him a better access to her sex.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, the cold of the metal meeting her heat, creating a contrasting sensation that made her whole body shiver with pleasure.

“Look at you,” he whispered in her ear, syncing the movements of both of his hands on her, “you’re so wet.”

Y/n hummed in response, hand shaping into a fist around Steve’s bicep when he caught her other breast, giving the same attention to it as Bucky.

“You’re so good for us doll.” He kissed the edge of her jaw, “Such a good girl, so wet for us.”

She groaned as Bucky slid a smooth finger inside her, slowly pumping it in and out, stretching her enough to insert a second finger between her folds.

“Faster, please.” She cried, mouth now free as Steve resumed working on marking her skin, sucking at her collarbone, allowing her to be as vocal as she wants.

“Steve, Bucky,” she bit her bottom lip, unable to divide her attention; Bucky moving faster inside her, thumb teasing her clit, and Steve squeezing her tits, bringing one of them to his mouth and scraping her sensitive nipple. It was all becoming too much.

Her hips buckled, breaths becoming more urgent as she moaned their names,

“Do you want to cum, darling?” Bucky asked from behind, not any less urgent than her, his cock becoming uncomfortably harder against his stomach and her ass by the second.

Y/n nodded furiously, swallowing a sob when a third digit entered her, “oh shit, I’m so close.”

Steve caressed her cheek, tracing the shape of her red lips with his thumb. She kissed it, taking it in her mouth fully, tongue spiraling its form and coating it with her saliva, hollowing her cheeks around it.

The heat rose to her face, knots tying up inside her stomach and going higher and higher, taking her closer to the edge.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Come for us.”

She didn’t know who said it, too caught up in her own pleasure, but it was enough; The waves of her orgasm hit her all at once, she moaned loudly around Steve’s thumb, as Bucky didn’t stop, riding her high with her, fingers still being pushed in and out of her, milking her of her pleasure with sweet reassurance in her ears.

Bucky kissed her shoulder as she came down, still sensitive when he pulled his fingers from her heat. He growled when he saw how drenched they were, the metal collecting a good amount of her juices, “Fuck, baby.” Bucky smirked, both men fascinated by her reaction to them as if it was the first time, “I always miss your taste so much.”

He brought two wet fingers to his lips, relishing on her cum, moaning in pleasure for how sweet she is. Steve shuffled closer, bringing himself so close he was sharing Bucky’s lap with her.

He bit his lips, hungrily eyeing Bucky’s forefinger, untouched, still dripping with her. 

Steve secured his hand around the metal wrist in a firm grip, waiting for Bucky to lick his fingers clean, and taking the third one into his mouth, sucking at it until there was nothing left.

Bucky swallowed, cock twitching at the sensation of Steve’s tongue on his body. The subtle reaction captured Steve’s attention, and he moved even more forward, squeezing y/n between them, her eyes hooded in a post orgasm bliss, renewed arousal starting to form in her core again when she felt the weight of Steve against her sensitive pussy.

“C’mere.” Steve motioned, voice deep from lust. Bucky swallowed again when he felt a tug at his hair, pulling him forward. Steve crushed his lips on his, the delicious flavor of y/n still on their tongue as they tasted it off each other, breathlessly exploring. Steve took a hold of Bucky’s thick shaft, stroking him from the base to the tip, removing the precum with his thumb and smearing it on y/n lips blindly, not breaking the kiss. She whimpered, eagerly licking it off.

Steve’s hips jolted involuntarily, forcing them to part, barely catching their breath.

“Fuck, Steve…Please.” Y/n moaned at the new friction, suddenly needy for more. He positioned himself farther, just in front of her entrance, teasing her with his tip, as Bucky parted her thighs, holding her in place.

She shifted, head shaking as she turned to Bucky. “I want both of you.”

His breath hitched in his throat, the clutch of his fingers tightening around her, “it’s been so long, baby. Are you sure you’re read-“

“Please? Bucky, Steve?” She was begging now, voice small, eyes pleading, the pink blush on her cheeks matched the scarlet color of her lips, reminding Bucky of a rose. The red tint casted a celestial shadow across her face, highlighting the splatter of freckles on her nose, her dilated pupils overpowering the color of her eyes. There’s so much self restraint a man can have.

“Okay.” He said hoarsely, barley able to control himself, “whatever you want, darling.”

She smiled, biting her lips to obscure it. She didn’t care it’s been years since they were both inside her. She wanted them. Needed them.

Bucky dipped his fingers inside her soaked core, coating himself in her fluids. She gasped when he pulled them out, slowly, his other hand was parting her asscheeks, searching for her entrance.

“Shh,” Bucky kissed her left shoulder, rubbing circles around the tight ring of muscles, using her own juices as a lubricant, “relax for me, baby.”

Y/n sighed, feeling Steve length on her folds, still not pushing inside her. He stroked her hair, leaving fluttering kisses on her neck, so different from the aggressive lovebites he previously left there.

She felt her muscles loosen around Bucky, slowly but surly opening her up for him.

“Buck.” She inhaled sharply as he managed to get a finger inside her. Steve was rubbing lazy circles on her clit, and she thought she’ll cum again, the familiar coil in her guts starting to form.

“Again already?” Bucky chuckled behind her, recognizing her rapid breaths and the clutching of her walls around him. He added a second finger, sliding inside her smoothly, “I guess we’ll have to pick up the pace.”

A couple of pumps later, and he pressed a third digit into her hole, it was a tighter fit, muscles resisting it at first, but he was persistent.

“So tight.” He exhaled, humming at the nape of her neck. Y/n opened her eyes, not realizing how hard she shut them, only to see Steve’s hungry look on them, devouring both of their naked forms.

She felt the fire igniting in the pit of her stomach, a softer pleasure washing her when she came, panting and hiding her face in the crook of Steve’s neck.

Steve chest vibrated with laugher, placing a hand on her back, “Are you okay?”

Y/n nodded, leaving the safety of his neck to look at him, words too difficult to form.

“We’re almost there,” Bucky reassured, gathering her newly found slick to coat his cock, pulling out his fingers. He moved himself to her entrance, stretching her painfully even with all his caution.

“Yes, just like that baby, you’re doing so good.” He praised her while caressing her arm, moving another inch deeper until his base hit her ass.

She let out a strangled gasp, shutting her eyes and correcting her breaths. Steve squeezed her palm, signaling her to open her eyes. She looked at him, already looking wrecked; “Are you sure, y/n? It’s okay if you-“

Y/n bit her bottom lip, smiling at him as sweetly as she could, “pretty please?”

The man huffed, letting out a low chuckle and placed himself against her dripping cunt, thrusting his hips into hers, gradually filling her up.

“Oh shit.”

It was always overwhelming at the first thrust. Being so full she forgot how empty she used to be. The stretch opening her up, reminding of something she hasn’t felt in five years. Right now, she might’ve felt complete.

She wasn’t ready, until now, having them both in the same level of intimacy like before. But this was so impromptu, so raw, so them; it was only natural for her to feel like herself again.

They stayed still inside her, giving her the time to adjust, already twitching, and she felt every inch of them against her damp walls, clenching around them, making it unbearable for them not to budge.

Y/n was the one to initiate. Recognizing how restless they grew, she rolled her hips, a whine escaping her lips just when Steve and Bucky moaned deeply, holding onto her.

She did it again, this time it stung less, her body getting accustomed to the presence of them inside,

“Y/n.” Bucky groaned, holding her hips in a steel grip.

“Yes?” She blinked at him, innocently.

“Stop that.”

“Why?”

“You’re hurting yourself.”

There was a pause, “I’m not, it’s okay.”

Steve and Bucky shared a look above her head, brief but meaningful. Steve pulled himself back slowly, stopping at the half of his length, only to pound into her again; she shut her eyes, her hands on Steve’s bare chest, feeling the flex of his muscles under it.

Bucky did the same thing- he drew himself out and pushed back in, knuckles tightening around her middle.

Beads of sweat formed in the valley of her breasts as they slammed harder each time, picking up a pace between themselves, moving in turns and then together, whispering words to sooth her pain.

Y/n was a mess under them, being so completely full, any discomfort long gone or replaced by pleasure.

“Guys,” she whimpered, “I’m close.”

Her eyes teared up, head shot back and met Bucky’s shoulder; she squirmed, able to taste her edge now. She couldn’t take it, her hips shifting involuntarily to the sides as they fucked into her.

They held her still again, nearly collapsing over her from how close they were, how good she took them.

She was the first one to come. Waves on waves of pleasure striking harder than before. She could taste her salty tears and hear herself screaming, nails clawing at anything she could find.

“Fuck!” Bucky grunted, hips thrusting into her repeatedly until he came inside her, leaning his head on her neck, holding her close for Steve to continue until he got his release.

“Shh, baby." Bucky whispered, “It’s okay, we’ve got you.” Steve rocked her body, crushing his hips into hers desperately, his eyebrows furrowed, cheeks rosy. He was close too.

She whined, clutching walls around him for the last time, not having any energy left in her to do anything else. Steve inhaled sharply, the tightness of her pushing him over the edge.

He spilled hot shots inside her, nearly collapsing on top of her in a tangle of sweaty bodies.

They stayed like this, not daring to move, still buried deep within each other.

“We forgot the cake.” Y/n laughed breathily.

“You weren’t supposed to know it’s a cake.” Bucky muttered, toying with a couple wet strands of her hair lazily.

“We kinda gave it up, Buck.” Steve admitted, “I’m pulling out, sweetheart.” He gave her a few seconds to prepare -say goodbye to the comforting warmth of the both of them surrounding her- lifting himself up using the arm of the sofa. In one slick motion he was no longer inside her, the sudden emptiness alien and unwanted. A mix of her juices dripped down her legs slowly, blending with the shots of cum Bucky left in her, too, as he mirrored Steve’s actions, removing himself from her hole.

It was awfully lonely all of a sudden.

“C’mon baby.” Bucky lifted her up as well, handling her as gently as he could, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

“No, no.” Y/n protested, “I wanna see the surprise.”

“It can wait for tomorrow.” Steve said, piling up the boxes on the table, cleaning up after them.

“You didn’t spend all day making it so I would see it tomorrow, show me.” She was stubborn, persistent, they knew too well it was a losing battle once she sat her mind to something. And she was already set on the couch again. They exchanged looks, sighing and sitting down to her sides.

“It’s not much.” Steve said, suddenly feeling self conscious about his work.

“It’s amazing,” Bucky reassured, knowing Steve isn’t going to uncover it himself so he did it instead, peeling the cover off to reveal it.

Y/n gasped, drinking in the work of art in front of her; It was a rectangle shaped chocolate cake, completed with white frosting evenly spread on top.

There was a painting drawn into the cream, light strokes of brush that only one person could create, a beautiful mess of blue and red, like watercolors fighting to create harmony between them. It was them, it took her a while to find sense in the chaos, but eventually she recognized three figures, fitting into one.

 Beautiful.

“Steve.” She breathed, “we’re never eating this.”

“We’re not sure how edible it is, anyway.” Steve laughed in relief, embracing her and kissing her temple.

“We are.” Bucky all but jumped on them, wrapping his arms around the two in an awkward yet loving hug, their laughs ringing together in a gracious melody, “It’s not.“

[love-takes-work]

Cookie Cat Cake for Steven’s Birthday

Recipe and instructions can be found, with more photos--just look below!

See more SU food tutorials!

Hey! It's time for another SU recipe and this time I decided to make the COOKIE CAKE from "Steven's Birthday"!

So first I had a look at the cake and made a surprising discovery.

THERE ARE NO EYEHOLES.

I would have thought a Cookie Cat–based cake would have eyeholes! Or at least icing that looked like eyeholes! Or even cupcakes with appropriate frosting on them! BUT NO! THERE AREN'T EYEHOLES!

So here's what I did to make this cake.

First, you need the cake to be the right shape, right? And nobody sells Cookie Cat–shaped cake pans. (Or even really anything vaguely cat-shaped unless you want Hello Kitty. I looked, it's weird.) So I decided what I would need to do is make a highly sculptable cake that could be cut into a Cookie Cat pattern.

So I needed two things:

A large Cookie Cat stencil

A brownie recipe

For a Cookie Cat stencil, I actually just used a Cookie Cat box art to trace from my SDCC Original Minis Domez box.

I traced the cat head onto thin paper.

Then cut it out to make a stencil! You have to make sure it fits in the pan you're going to use. If it doesn't, trace evenly inside it and cut it smaller. That's pretty important if you're going to channel the right Cookie Cat shape!

Next, I chose brownies because I thought they would be very firm and sculptable, and not look weird if the edges were cut rather than baked in a pan. Here are the ingredients for one layer of brownies:

Ingredients:

2 ounces semisweet chocolate (I used chocolate chips)

6 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 cup brown sugar

2 large eggs

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

First, preheat the oven to 350º F / 175º C and put some parchment paper in your pan. You should spray it with cooking spray on top of the parchment paper.

Then get a small pot and throw your 6 tablespoons of butter in. Turn the heat on medium high and wait for the butter to begin bubbling. Once it's partially melted, start stirring it and do not let it burn. Once it's liquefying, add in your 2 ounces of chocolate. Stir it immediately and don't let it stick to the bottom of the pan.

Very shortly after you've added the chocolate, you can take it off the heat and turn off the burner. Stir the chocolate into the butter. Set it somewhere safe to cool and measure out 1 cup of brown sugar. Brown sugar is measured by PACKING into the cup. Make sure it's solidly packed to 1 cup.

Put the chocolate/butter mixture into a bowl. Add the brown sugar and stir it in.

Then add the two eggs and the 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla. Stir that in.

Finally, add the 1/2 teaspoon of salt and the 1/2 cup all-purpose flour. Stir that in. 

You will have a nice thick brownie mix! Pour it EVENLY into your pan and throw it in the oven. It should bake for about 15 minutes.

You may want to check it at 5 minutes and turn the pan around in case it's baking unevenly.

While the first pan is baking, guess what?

Do that entire process a second time. Because this is a two-layer cake.

(Alternative method: You could double the recipe in the first place and estimate half the batter into two pans, but I only had one the right size and had to do it like this.)

When the first brownies are finished baking, take it out of the oven, lift it out using the parchment paper underneath it, and then turn it onto a baking sheet or serving dish upside down. Just slop it on there.

Let it cool. Do not attempt to frost this cake while it is warm at all. Focus on getting your second layer in the oven.

SO! Now that you've got your brownies going, you may wish to make the icing.

I use homemade icing.

Ingredients:

1/4 cup butter (4 tablespoons)

2 cups sifted powdered sugar

1 teaspoon almond extract (or vanilla if you don't like/can't eat almond)

1/2 teaspoon red food coloring

A small dish of hot water

Melt the butter in the microwave. Then sift the powdered sugar onto it. Sifting MUST be done for icing recipes or you WILL have lumpy, ugly frosting. Don't ever ignore the sifting directions in an icing recipe! Never!

Then add your flavoring (almond or vanilla). And once that's mixed in, you'll want to add two teaspoons at a time of hot water. Stir the water into your icing and get it thoroughly mixed in. And then when it's mixed, decide if it looks pourable. You know, about as pourable as the brownie mix. If it's sticky at all or moving in a single lump, add two more teaspoons of hot water. I had to add about six teaspoons before mine was pourable.

Start to frost the bottom layer of your cooled Cookie Cat. The left side of the Cookie Cat is the white. Paint it white with this icing. Then add a few drops of red food coloring to the remaining icing and mix it in, and spread that pink stuff on the right half of the Cookie Cat.

When your second Cookie Cat comes out of the oven, WAIT FOR IT TO COOL. AGAIN. Maybe do dishes or watch cartoons?

Once it's ready, tenderly FLOP it from the parchment paper onto your frosted bottom Cookie Cat. It's a sandwich!

Now to cut the shape. Put your Cookie Cat stencil on top of the cake and just cut around it carefully.

You should not have anything crispy or too crumbly. It should be nice and firm and chocolatey and moldable. It should easily cut into a Cookie Cat! And if it gives you any trouble, brownies are usually easier to smush back into shape than regular cake.

Now you have a Cookie Cat sandwich.

But wait! You need more icing to frost the top!

So make the above icing a second time, except this time, use slightly more hot water (and no food coloring).

Drizzle the icing onto the top--a little messily so it runs down over the sides a bit because that's how the original looks.

You've got a Cookie Cat CAKE!

But it's a little ugly with only one coat, so get it nice and thick on top if you can.

Should you want to prepare it for a special 14-year-old boy, you can always get candles.

(I bet you can't guess who turned 41 this year and had candles to reuse. Ahem.)

It is super delicious and adorable! Please enjoy this with your friends!

See more SU food tutorials!

[kpop-scenarios-theaddiction]

Chess (Suga mafia au!)

Synopsis: he is a mobster, you are his girlfriend and you are pregnant, you try to run away, you Yoongi is Yoongi, and he would never let you go

You sat there on his leather chair, a very intimidating chair, but truth be told it was very comfortable. The same chair behind a desk with piles of paper of dealings of his job. The room almost looked like any other office, you know, calm painted colored walls, a big red carpet covering the floor, leather sofas, and a big desk near the glass window, the usual.

No one would notice that something was of, if it wasn't to the content of the papers and the gun hidden in the first drawer at the desk, or the cameras watching the mansion.

Of course, you knew that wasn’t a good idea having a gangster boyfriend, but love is love and you let yourself drown in that cute smile and breathtaking kisses. And your life was dangerous, of course, it always had enemies, danger, weapons and blood, lots of blood, always the damm blood.

You looked at the pregnant test fidgeting in your hands as you creased your brows and twitched the sides of your mouth.

You looked at the notebook opened in front of you showing places you could go and at your suitcase beside the chair.

The fact was that you had a bun in the oven, and you were scared, correcting, you were terrified of his reaction, Yoongi always had been gentle to you, but you knew his work and you knew how he worked.

Just then the door opened and a blond Yoongi entered in all his glory, dressed in a suit and a matching necktie. His hair was all disheveled, the necktie all messed up, but in your eyes, he still seemed gorgeous as ever, even with all the blood that stained his beautiful attire.

“Hey love”

“Hey…” you said with a tired face

“You look sad, what happened, did someone bothered you, I can take care of that for you, don’t worry.” Said him closing the door behind him

“No, it’s not that, no one bothered me, it’s another thing.”

He looked at you with a mixture of worry and confused face and started walking to you.

“I think you should sit down; we need to talk”

“Oh shit, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, babe, just sit, ok?

He did as you asked and sit across from the table, on a too much luxurious chair on your opinion.

You didn’t know how to drop the news to him, so you took the pregnancy test from you lap and out on the table in the middle of you two. He looked at you in disbelief and you looked at your lap trying to avoid his gaze, where your hands were squeezing each other as your nervousness rate rose like a rocket.

Hell, this were hell, there couldn’t be other explanation to what was going on. A baby, oh my gosh. It was the worst time to have a baby and worse than that is that you knew it.

You loved him, of course you did, but this wasn’t an environment that you wanted to raise your child. You dreamt of a better future for the little life growing in your belly and you loved the idea of you and Yoongi, a cottage far away from there, somewhere safe, lots of space for the child to run and play, maybe a backyard.

But reality was cruel, your boyfriend was too famous to simply disappear in the world, famous in the worst possible way that you could. He was the leader of the biggest and feared gang of Seoul, no one with half of a good judgment dared to cross his way and to complete the package there were the enemies, Yoongi had piles of them, half of the city feared him and the other half wanted his head on a stake.

But sometimes you thought the dumbest one in town was you, how could you love someone like him? Well, you have been asking this question to yourself since you laid eyes on him. It’s pretty cheesy, but it was love at first sight.

All these thoughts filled you mind, you looked at your hands, at the walls, at anything but him, you didn't know how Yoongi would react. You knew him, but at the same time you didn't.

He looked at you and immediately your eyes met his, his face showed no emotion, completely serious, like this was some reunion with his gang.

You wanted him to say something, anything, you were desperate for a reaction, even a bad one. But instead, he simply rose from the chair and walked away, not forgetting to close the door behind him.

You took the pregnancy test in your hands and it felt heavy in your hands. You started crying, crying hard, sobbing and hyperventilating. This was really bad, he hated it, oh gosh,  he hated it everything about this,  it would be no good for him or his business and you knew what he prioritized and it hurt you when you realized that wasn’t you and if he hated the baby, he certainly would start hating you too.

You didn't want even to think what his reaction would be, but your mind raced as fast as your heart and millions of scenarios came to you mind, none of them ending with a happy ending. You knew what was going to happen next, he was going to break up with you and kick you out of his house and out of his life and you would never see him again having to have this baby alone and being a single mother. And it would be horrible, because every time you looked at the child you would remember its father and you heart would sink even more, again and again and again.

You put the pregnancy test in your pocket and walked of his office, already thinking what you would do in the next nine months, but your objective was clear: you had to vanish, disappear from the world. And that would be hard you knew; he had his men in every possible place. But you were a smart woman, of course you were, there was no way a dumb one could be leading one of the most powerful and influencer companies in Asia. What would make things even harder, your name also was in tabloids and media, so in that way he could easily track your every step along the way, well, shit.

But you didn’t have your last name for nothing, someone with that last name never backed away from a challenge, and you wouldn’t be the first one to do it. You were going away, and no one were going to stop you.

you rushed up the stairs and opened the door of the bedroom you shared with Yoongi and went directly to the closet. You tiptoed as you got your suitcase from the top shelf. You opened it so fast that you almost teared the zipper. But that was the least thing you cared at the moment, you took handful of your clothes and threw inside the bag as more tears stained your beautiful face, you cleaned then with the back of your hand and filled the bag until your part of the closet was empty.

You had some difficult to close the suitcase since you were in a hurry and you didn’t fold any clothe. Damm, it was heavy, but you managed to carry along your loud steps out of the house, you looked behind, imagining that Yoongi could be there, but he wasn’t, and you didn’t know if that made you relieved or even sadder.

But you got in your car and started driving fast, faster than you ever did before, ignoring the traffic lights and getting people screaming as they tried not being ran over. As you started crossing a bridge you opened the window and threw the pregnancy test away, hoping it would get stuck in the bottom of the river forever.

You plugged your phone to the Bluetooth and dialed the number, the receiver picked at the third ring, as always, she didn’t liked people calling her, mainly at night. But it was a crisis, she would understand.

“Y/N, its late, I was almost falling asleep and you know how much I ha-“

“I know, Yongsun, I’m sorry, but please, listen, it’s important, look, I’m going to take a few months of vacation and I need you to take care of the enterprise, ok? You’re in control now”

There was a brief moment of silence, your tensed even more.

“Ok, I’ll do it, you know I’d do anything for you, but why? What happen-

Suddenly the girl’s voice changed to a loud buzz and the to another voice

“Shit” You muttered under your breath

“Noona? Where are you? I see here that you are going fast, please slow down, it’s dangerous”

“Leave me alone Jungguk”

“Noona, please don’t do this, I just want to help”

“Then help me getting out my phone”

“But Noona, I don’t want-“

Then you heard some rattling with a chair, someone crashing to the ground and some microphone. You liked Jungguk, he was a nice kid, but now you just wanted him to go to fucking hell and burn, burn to ashes that you could dance on it. Then another voice came through the speaker, shit, this voice you knew for sure, and you almost banged your head on the steering wheel because of the frustration that overcame you.

“Y/N, please come back home” Said him in a strangely calm tone of voice, shit, that meant danger, too calm.

“I can’t”

“Why not, love?”

In other times the pet name would made a smile grown in your fast, but now it only made you cry harder and your heart ache, as you felt how much you still loved him.

“That’s not my home anymore, I’m going to my home”

“And where your home if I’m not there?”

“That’s the whole point, now my home its anywhere far away from you. You better forget me and not come trying to find me, Min Yoongi” You screamed despite him not being there

“Oh love, I love how you say my name, it so melodic,  and you know how much I love you and want to protect you, so there is no way I’m not knowing your location, I always know, I always will.”

“Yoongi, I hate how you're always breathing on my neck, that doesn't sound nice, it sounds like a threat, are you threatening me?”

“Of course not, love. I’m just remembering you about my promise of always protect you.”

Yoongi would never let you go, outside he could seems cold but you just had to look into his eyes and you could see fire burning, he wasn’t the boss just casually, he was someone that looked at stuff burning as laughed his ass off, almost like a psychopath, totally out of his mind and no way you’d let your child near a psychopath, although he was the father.

Then you looked at the rearview mirror and you saw the car plate, oh gosh, it couldn’t be, you thought you had an advantage of time, you left early. It was him. You screamed in frustration and right in front of the bridge you could see that it was blocked, and a part of the middle of it was missing like it was imploded or something, but how? You were sure that if that happened, you’d have listed.

You were forced to stop and you sat there, all your limbs shaking and your breath hitched, you were on the verge of crying more, but no way in hell you’d let him see you crying, so you wiped all your tears. now you had to be the double of the courageous person you were, for you and your baby.

You were bought back to reality by a knock on your window.

“Get out”

You did it, and you embraced yourself because of the cold breeze of the almost winter. Yoongi noticed and took off his jacket putting on your shoulders, taking a deep breath and shoving his hands into his pockets. For some little time that seemed to last forever you two just stood there in the company of each other, the wind making you hair messy and you let it be, it was covering your vision of Yoongi and made you feel better.

“I can’t believe you bombed a bridged” You said looking at the missing part of it.

“Don’t worry, by tomorrow it’s going to be fixed”

“Fix it now” You said first time looking at his eyes, they were bloodshot, you didn’t know if it was sadness or pure anger.

“Why should I? So you can go away and leave me? No way I’m letting that happen”

“Yes, you will, I have to go, Yoongi, you don’t understand”

He laughed sarcastically in disbelief

“No, darling, you don’t understand, we’re having a baby, my job always was to protect and love you and now I’m going to double my job because of the baby”

“You talk about it like it was a burden to you, if really is why you care? just let me out of your life so you can keep going with your mobster life” you said now crying, you couldn’t hold it back anymore, it was too much

“You always knew about my mobster life and you never had a problem with it before, I thought you were with me in this path, with me, with me!”

“I was, Yoongi, I really was, totally devoted to you, but I can’t anymore, you trained me, I can take care of myself. But I can’t take care of myself and a baby, the baby will always be in danger, plus it’s an easy target”

“If you can’t do it, then let me do it, I can protect you, you know my reputation, I won’t let anyone hurt you or our baby”

“NO!”

“No what? It’s not my child?”

“What do you mean? of course it is, who do you think I am, a whore? I never cheated on you. It’s your, but I know you don’t want it, so I’ll be on my way”

You turned around ready to enter your car and find another way out of there, but then Yoongi started speaking again

“it’s my child, I want this baby, I really do, I want it all with you. Please, let me take care of you both, I know I have my flaws, but I’ll do my best”

“No way, you’re a cold killer, have no regrets on spilling blood and making piles of bodies, how can I be sure that I won’t be one of them!?”

He looked at you with a confused expression

“Babe, are you afraid of me?”

“Of course, I am, you psychopath”

He started walking towards you and you started taking steps behind you.

“I can assure you that has no reason for you to be afraid of me, for heaven’s sake I goddam love you, I worship you, you’re my queen. A king can’t rule its empire without his queen and you’re my queen. Please come back to me” Said him offering his hand to you.

You kept walking behind, then Yoongi sprinted and caught you by the waist, you looked behind and saw that you were at the end line, the river waving calm underneath you.

“See? You’re safe with me, I won’t let anything hurt you”

“Ok, I’ll come back”

He smiled wildly, interlacing your hand with his already pulling you towards the car. But you didn’t move one inch. He looked back at you; brows furrowed deeply

“I’ll come back, but I have conditions”

“And what would that be, love?” said him looking at you calmly and some expression between puzzled and challenging

“I want more of your time to me, we’re together, but at the same time we’re not, you’re never there. Second, you’re going to take of off all your tracker of all my devices”

He took a deep breath, and looked up to the sky, buffing and all looking like stuff were going against his will, what he obviously hates it.

“Anything else, angel?”

“yes, I want to be more active in the gang, no way I’m going to be just your trophy girlfriend”

“That means you will be in lots of danger” He said squeezing your hand

“I can handle it” you said smiling

He laughed

“This it’s like playing chess, the king does everything to protect the queen, who is the last to fall”

“Yes, it’s like chess. So, what about my conditions?”

“Fine, you can have whatever you want, I would dive in hell if you asked me to” He said will half a smile. “Now please get in the car, it’s cold, you going to get sick”

And you entered his car, you came back home, to your empire, to rule it besides him. It wasn’t easy. It was your first child, you both pretty much freak out, but you guys were enjoying, each day was a new day. And he only let people he truly trusted near you.

And nine months later, a beautiful and healthy boy came into your lives, a boy that you name it Minjae, that meant smart and talent.

“I like the name, it sounds nice. It’s a great choice, love” He said looking at the newborn baby that you were holding dearly in your arms.

“Talking about love…” You started “I have something to say”

He looked at you, expectant

“I love you”

“I love you too” He said kissing your lips, then Minjae’s forehead. Minjae smiled and made you both smile too, happiness surrounded you three.

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

unlonely [michael m. x reader] pt.2

like what i do? consider buying me a coffee!

accidentally spends the last three hours writing this. whoops.

the good part of having fics planned out is that u dont have to sit around for nearly as long like “uGHHHH WHAT DO I WRITE” story-wise. writing wise? still hell. 

also dont expect this please sdfhkjdsfh i only managed this because its a saturday and i dont have anything else to do rn because homework??? ill do that later

warnings: sad michael. more than once. a hospital is here. cool. reader is a bitter fuck. if i need to warn for anything else pls tell me.

            Michael had the habit of talking himself through things. With you there, he excused it off as him explaining it to you. The first time you caught this little habit was during the first dissection the two of you did together, listening to him give himself a pep talk through the first few minutes before shutting up at the slightly worried glance you shot his way. During video games, you caught him muttering his plan to himself. And now? Now you had Michael Mell in your backseat, talking over the directions your phone gave you, filling you in on the same plan you’d heard for the past week. Every now and then, you’d shush him long enough to hear where you were supposed to turn, and then he’d start back up, saying how he was going to find Jeremy, go through his speech - something he spared you from, on the account of the fact it was pretty personal, which... you couldn’t lie, you weren’t complaining about that - and then maybe the three of you would go out somewhere if Jeremy saw the light and immediately shed that dickish persona he’d taken on (Michael’s dream situation) or if Jeremy realized he was a dick and figured maybe he should apologize to Michael not in the middle of a party (your dream situation). A weight stayed in your stomach the entire time you were driving to Jake’s house - and then it lightened upon seeing shifting behind you.

            Slowing to a stop at a red light, you finally took the chance to steal a glance at Michael in the backseat. And you couldn’t help but fucking stare at him, before the light flickered green and you tore your gaze away. He kept babbling, not noticing the look you’d given him. Maybe the two of you would watch horror movies when you got back to your place - that’d be dope, wouldn’t it?

            “Michael?” You finally said, breaking him out of his endless rambling.

            “Yes?”

            “What the actual fuck are you wearing?”

            “What?” He asked, “look, I needed a disguise! I don’t get invited to parties,” he said, “no one will ever know it’s me!”

            “Michael, you could have literally put a hood up or put on a mask and done the same thing-”

            “That’s too simple!” And then, he paused. “Eyes on the road, [y/n],” he said, and you could hear his fucking smirk.

            “They are, Mell.”

            “Yeah, right.”

            For a split second, you debated slamming on brakes. The thought tempted you for another moment, and then you finally decided against it - you couldn’t risk breaking his nose or something. Besides - fate had other plans, as you finally turned into Jake’s neighborhood. If your phone hadn’t informed you that your destination was on the right, the cars lining the street definitely would have. A few houses ahead, you could see plenty of cars pulled onto the front lawn of a pretty damn nice looking house - and you sort of stare, wondering how this many people would show up to one high school party. You glanced back to Michael, the car moving at a snail’s pace down the street. 

            “I’m gonna circle back around,” you announced. He gave you a quick nod.

            Ten minutes later, you’re sitting alone in your parked car and Michael’s left you with the promise that he’ll be back in maybe and hour or two. You reclined your seat, turned up the radio, and just sort of waited - not wanting to burn your phone battery anymore, because your dad had stolen your charger out of your car earlier that night - for the next few hours. You watched people filter in and out, like Brooke Lohst finally showing up in this handmade dog outfit that looked like an attempt for a sexy dog (and, honestly, you couldn’t say that it wasn’t - but that was more Brooke than the costume); or this little group of people running back out to their car and leaving, laughing the entire way, and you started hoping that they weren’t drunk; and then you saw Jeremy fucking Heere, pulling up in a slightly beat up car (and for a moment, you’re confused - you’d never seen him drive before, had you? You didn’t know if he could) but that washed away the moment he stepped out, dressed in this fucking dorky cyborg-looking costume that made you stifle back a laugh because of how damn cheesy it was, like he was some kid in a middle school play.

            An hour later, you saw Michael crossing the front lawn to your car. That god-awful costume is discarded somewhere, leaving him just in the shirt and shorts he’d been wearing when you picked him up, and you could see him shaking as he made his way over. He pulled the car door open, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting it all in one fluid motion. He didn’t speak to you. He just sat there, plucking at his shirt or clicking his phone on and off to glance at the time - half past ten, you noted - or running a hand through his hair, already a mess from the thousands of times he’d done it before.

            You didn’t ask what happened. All you did was pull the car into reverse, and slowly eased your way out of your spot, making a quick U-turn to leave Jake’s house in your rear-view mirror.

            But after a few minutes of silent driving, you finally speak up. “My family should still be out. We can go to my room and watch movies, or listen to music or something.” You paused for a moment. “Oh, fuck, Michael - you haven’t even tried my kick-ass hot cocoa. I put mini marshmallows and whipped cream and whatever you like, I guess.” You paused once more, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel. “If you want peppermint, I think I have some candy canes stashed away somewhere that I can crush up. Or we have cinnamon stll - oh shit, Michael, we have the stuff to make cinnamon rolls. That’d be fucking dope.” You stopped, keeping your eyes pinned to the road as you pull your right hand away, extending it to Michael. “We’re gonna be okay, Michael.”

            And after a moment, Michael’s hand was in yours, squeezing it tightly without a word. And when you steal another glance, that look in his eyes is back: like he’s a thousand worlds away from you. He was so distant, like maybe he fell through this reality into another - and maybe, in a way, he did. Maybe Jeremy and that supercomputer-thing and everything was a world away from you, something foreign to you - but that wasn’t going to stop you. Michael might have been up in the clouds, but you were going to try your fucking hardest to ground him again. You weren’t going to tell Michael that you hated Jeremy Heere. He didn’t need to hear that - Michael needed some sort of security, and you were going to try and give him that as best as you could then.

            Michael had never been to your house before. The lights in the front yard reflected in of his glasses as he followed you up to the house, the chirp of your car locking behind the two of you as you fumbled with your house key. You kicked off your shoes as you stepped inside, giving Michael the most general tour you could - the living room off to the right, the small dining room to the left, and the kitchen behind that - before guiding him into the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen island, watching you gather your ingredients, throwing quick glances back to him every once in a while. You reached over the stovetop, turning the oven on before pulling out one of those Pillsbury cinnamon roll tubes, shooting him a quick smile.

            “Dad likes to make them from scratch. Mom and I don’t have the patience for that sometimes,” you said, before returning to the hot chocolate.

            Milk, brown sugar, cinnamon, a block of chocolate - which Michael watched you chop the entire time, wondering how you had the patience to deal with that shit, because he probably would have given up halfway through - and he watched you fish through cabinets, pulling out three different bottled: vanilla, ground cinnamon, and... ground cayenne pepper? He walked over to your side, leaning against the counter wordlessly as he watched you work, taking a bowl to mix all your dry ingredients together.

            “You wanna help?” You asked, looking up at him.

            “What’s the cayenne pepper for?”

            You only shot him a quick smile. “Baking spray should be in that cabinet,” you motioned with your elbow, “and the pans are in that big bottom drawer.” You extended the cinnamon rolls to him, “you can break these open, if you want.”

            You ignored the rough hit he took to his palm once the tear-away shit didn’t work, the pop! of the tube greeting him a second later. 

            “Do you do this often?” Michael asked, the hiss of him greasing the pan greeting you a minute later.

            “... Hot cocoa?” You asked, before shrugging. “When it’s cold enough, yeah.”

            “No. I mean... this.” He said, “the whole, uh... cheering up thing.”

            You paused, turning your attention to the milk on the stove. “I...” You started, before pressing your lips together. “No.” You poured in cups of milk, mixing brown sugar in before you put it over the heat, keeping a close eye on it so that it doesn’t burn. “I don’t.” You pressed your lips together.

            “You’re really good at it,” he said softly. Stealing a glance, you found his attention on placing each cinnamon roll, and you were glad for that. He didn’t need to look at you - not when you were starting to drop the facade you’d kept up of happy, nerdy you who just wanted to talk to him about music and video games and maybe see him smile again. 

            He didn’t need to see just how lonely you were.

            Thirty minutes later, the two of you are in your living room, watching old movies on Netflix and sharing a blanket. Michael liked to make snarky comments during movies, pointing out stupid effects or making fun of the stupider lines (which, you couldn’t lie, you’d mimic them too). Cinnamon rolls cooled on the coffee table, stacked high and iced graciously, and the hot cocoa had been drained the moment the two of you took sips - which made a warm, cozy feeling of satisfaction bubble through you when Michael practically glowed at the taste before admitting you’d been right to gloat earlier. Which one of you fell asleep first, you weren’t sure. What you were sure of was waking up the next morning, curled up next to Michael with your head on his shoulder, his arm curled around you securely. The TV screen had been shut off, the cinnamon rolls on the table a few less (and you imagined that it had been your parents coming in, not wanting to disturb you and Michael since you’d been sleeping), and Michael’s soft breathing ended up soothing you back to sleep. He’d taken his glasses off at some point. You fought back a small smile at that - he still looked nice without his glasses, which was unfair because not everyone could look nice with and without glasses. You nestled back into his shoulder, growing slightly closer to him as you shut your eyes. His arm pulled you slightly closer, and you could feel his face against the side of your head.

            It was nice. Michael was always warm, and it was comfortable since you knew that, without Michael and the blanket, you’d be freezing your ass off on the couch. Even with the way your neck and back were positioned, you were comfortable with Michael - and even though you knew that your body would be aching tomorrow, hating you for not moving, you were okay with that. That moment had been worth it.

            “Jeremy.” He looked up, the little voice in the back of his head, bringing him back down to earth once more. Jeremy couldn’t really lie - he was glad to finally have a distraction. It was cold outside, and there he was, leaning against Brooke’s car with his fingers intertwined with hers while she was deep in conversation with this guy from the swim team and his girlfriend - some art student, Jeremy noticed, as she had graphite and paint smudges on her hands - about... something. He ended up tuning them out, having lost interest in the conversation - and besides, he didn’t need to pay attention. He had the SQUIP there to fill in the gaps when he needed to speak.

            The SQUIP spoke once more. “Look at the building.” He obeyed, and in a flicker, a familiar shade of red met his eyes. Michael. One hand at his backpack strap, the other holding his phone as he stood outside. A minute later, another person walked out, greeting him before Jeremy watched Michael push his headphones down and around his neck, immediately starting up conversation with this stranger. And then he watched the two of you laugh together, chatting happily as watched both of you made your way to Michael’s car. 

            Then Jeremy recognized you. He’d seen you in his math class, quiet and always keeping to yourself - and now you were with Michael, laughing about some story Michael must had been dying to tell you, judging by how animated he grew. The two of you fit well together, laughing at the same stupid things, you playfully shoving Michael at one point before the two of you approached his car, parked close enough that Jeremy wouldn’t have had to turn around to watch the two of you get into Michael’s car and leave. The fact that the two of you got along was a sweet sight, but... he couldn’t fight the pit in the bottom of his stomach of anger, of sadness- because that was Michael. His former best friend.

            “It looks like Michael’s moved on fast,” His SQUIP said, as Jeremy watched Michael’s car disappear out of the parking lot.

            “Jeremy!” Brooke’s voice snapped him back to reality, “are you okay?” She said, worming her hand out of his, stretching and popping her fingers. “You were hurting my hand.”

            He didn’t realize how tightly he’d been squeezing her hand. But he nodded, making up some bullshit excuse that he’d just been thinking before shrugging it off as unimportant. Just as he always did nowadays.

            Fridays were always your least favorite school days - purely because it was an countdown to the freedom of the weekend for you. Mondays also sucked - but Fridays? You’d fucking kill for a school day to be over already. But you were glad to confirm your plans with Michael tomorrow to just sit around and binge Queer Eye on Netflix at your house - because at least that gave you something to look forward to on Saturday - and make your way home, so that you can lie down and die a bit internally in peace. The heavy thump of your backpack made you frown, as you threw yourself onto your bed, falling face-first into your comforter and letting out a soft groan of oh thank god when you heard your bedroom door open, and the familiar chuckle of your father sound out.

            “Tough day?” He asked, and you let out a grunt of confirmation, not bothering to move. He chuckled again. “I made some cinnamon rolls earlier.” You snapped up, looking to him. "Save some for Michael, [y/n].”

            You beamed, rolling over and sitting up. That’s when you noticed he’d dressed up nicely, redoing his tie for what what probably the tenth time. “Where are you going?” 

            “The Murphys invited us out for dinner tonight,” he said, “thought I’d take them up on the offer. I’ll let them know you wanted to be there,” he shot you a quick smile. “Thought you could use the rest, kiddo.” He paused, lowering his voice. “But if they offer, I’ll bring you back something.”

            Sometimes you were glad that your family had rich friends. That was definitely one of those moments. He made some other comment, talking about how they’ll probably get back late so don’t worry or wait up for them or anything. The door shut behind him as he left, and you fell back onto your bed, debating whether you should go get a cinnamon roll or to take a fucking baller nap that you deserved because high school sucks. 

            And then you woke up a few hours later, the sound of a car horn blaring outside. You grabbed your phone, expecting maybe your dad had texted and called you and upon not getting any response, figured that maybe that would have woken you up - but you were greeted with nothing. So you made your way to the front door, pulling the door open with the expectation of yelling at some asshole that other people live in this neighborhood, only to be greeted with the sight of a familiar P.T. Cruiser in your driveway. No wonder it sounded so loud.

            “Michael, what the FUCK-” You yelled out, only for him to sort of lean out his window.

            “I’ll explain on the way!” He called out. You scowled slightly and hoped that this was something important enough to literally disturb the entire fucking neighborhood, and snagged your keys, sliding into your shoes before leaving your house and hopping into the passenger side, narrowly avoiding smashing into Michael’s bag in the floorboard.

            He barely had pulled out of your driveway before he started talking. Jeremy’s dad had ended up at his house, talking to him about how Jeremy had basically disrespected him and he realized just how absent he’d been as a father - causing him to seek Michael’s help, because Jeremy would listen to Michael if he tried harder to talk to him. So he launched into this whole talk, about how if maybe he tried to be a better friend to Jeremy, he could get through to him - and the whole thing stung. Jeremy abandoned him, not the other way around, and there Michael was, talking about how he needed to try harder and reach out to him again. Mountain Dew Red was supposed to deactivate the SQUIP, according to some dude that Michael played Overwatch with, and he had managed to get his hands on a case of the stuff a few weeks back, and he luckily had a bottle left in his bag - so maybe if he talked to Jeremy before the play, he could help him-

            You finally spoke up, having watched Michael run out of breath while speaking a thousand miles an hour. “Woah, shit, Mikey, slow down.” He barely had a chance to glance over to you, before you spoke again: “eyes on the road, Michael.” He looked away, giving a single nod. “So. Why am I here?”

            He didn’t answer immediately, flicking his turn signal on long enough to change lanes. “I didn’t want to go alone.”

            “I don’t have any money on me, dude-”

            “I’ll pay for you!” He said, cutting you off, "or you can stay in the car if you want, I just - I need you there.” He breathed, before finally tacking on a soft, “just in case.”

            Upon reaching the school, the two of you were lucky enough to snag the two seats closest to the backstage door. Michael talked to you idly, his leg bouncing restlessly as he kept debating going then or waiting until the lights went down for the show. Eventually, you watched him reach down to the floor beneath his seat, grabbing his bag and sliding forward enough to throw it over one of his shoulders. When you reached for his hand to stop him, he reassured you it was just so that he could get back there faster when he needed to. Maybe it’d be better if he waited until after the show to see Jeremy - give him a chance to maybe not fuck up the show and have Christine Canigula angry at him.

            So he relaxed, the lights going down as the two of you watched Christine come to the edge of the stage, giving some announcements about how it’d been a hard few weeks for Middleborough and how important theatre is to bring everyone together for basically what’s supposed to be a good time. As if on cue, you and Michael glanced at each other the moment she made a comment about what Rich would say - cracking a small smile at each other before listening to her final comment about the costumes from Hobby Lobby. The show started, the lights on stage letting up as you watched a couple students fumble through their lines a bit, before... changing. Newfound passion flooded into them, the show rivaling Broadway plays - and you leaned back, looking to Michael, who’s grip turned vice-like on his bag’s strap.

            “This... is way too good for a school play,” he whispered to you, before realization hit. “Oh god. Oh fuck,” he started, “I need to get in there.”

“Wait, Michael-” You placed your hand over his, “hold on - I don’t know if that’s a good idea since-”

            “I’ll be fine, [y/n].” He shot you a quick smile, “I’ll be back. Just... stay here.” 

            “Michael, they just started the show,” you whispered, ignoring a shush from behind you. “If you go now-”

            “I’ll be fine!” He said, voice raising slightly. He stared at you, and then - all in a quick moment - he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours for a split second before dashing away, leaving you dumbfounded by the sudden move.

            “... What the fuck?” You mumbled, sinking back into your seat before turning your attention back to the play as best as you could, ignoring the burning in your cheeks. Eventually, the scene ended, the lights doing down long enough for actors to slip off stage. You watched the lights come back up, Brooke coming on stage and completely blowing everyone else away with nothing but raw energy. And then you watched as the stage slowly fell empty.

            That was when you moved, slipping to the backstage door, barely getting a hand on it before a screech rung out. You threw the door open, letting it slam behind you as you head up the steps to hear several thumps hit the floor, and then you saw Michael, letting out a scream as he stepped back, staring at all the bodies unconscious before him. Something inside of you jumped to action, as you found your phone and immediately called 911. Holding the phone between your face and shoulder, you found Michael standing there in shocked silence, and guided him over to somewhere to sit - him practically falling into the chair you found. 

            Later, you stood beside Michael, a orange shock blanket draped over his shoulders as the two of you watched a teacher and your classmates get wheeled out on stretchers, a paramedic standing with the two of you. Her questions felt lost on Michael, because while you tried to help him answer, you didn’t exactly know what was going on. She knelt down beside him, trying to comfort him, slowly dropping her questions before finally the police arrived. You were permitted to leave before Michael was, because while you didn’t know much, you still sort of counted as a witness. Leaving Michael alone in there was tough, because you could see how shaken he’d been, but you found yourself sitting on the curb next to his car. Your mind fluttered back to that kiss, as quick and impulsive as it was, and you started to wonder whether you should bring it up to Michael - in the end deciding that yes, you should, but not that day. Too much had happened to just casually approach Michael and ask about what the fuck that kiss was about.

            Eventually, footsteps approached you, and you were greeted with the sight of a slightly more calm Michael. His hands still shook slightly, and he fumbled with his jacket and his bag and everything he could get his hands on, but he wasn’t as he had been inside, no longer on the verge of tears or a panic attack. You stood to greet him, about to speak when he stopped in front of you.

            “I’m gonna go to the hospital,” he said, voice quiet. “Y’know, uh... wait with Mr.Heere, I guess. I’ll drop you off-”

            You didn’t hesitate. “If you think I’m not staying with you, you’re an idiot, Mell.”

            He cracked a small smile at that, insisting he was okay to drive as you reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat. Taking the chance to call your mom, you explained everything you could: that you were going to stay with Michael at the hospital after something happened at the play and he was worried about his friends, saying that he needed someone else there for support and you wanted to be that someone. For a moment, you thought she was going to say you had to come home - but then she agreed, understanding as always, and asked if you needed anything. You rattled off a list of general stuff - water, maybe a phone charger or two if they could bring them - before thanking her. She told you she wouldn’t be able to bring it immediately, since they’re at dinner - although saying she was willing to leave early if it was needed, and you coaxed that away. You didn’t need any of this stuff immediately. You only thanked her again.

            You’d never seen Jeremy’s dad before - and, well, you never had a reason to. But... he wasn’t like what you expected. He looked like he was slightly taller than Jeremy, but heavier and more tired. He had this thick, ginger beard, and a balding head, and you noticed how he had soft, gentle eyes. He greeted you and Michael with a small wave, a cup of shitty hospital coffee on the table next to him. Michael introduced the two of you, and part of you felt guilty for hating Jeremy all of a sudden. His dad treated you so kindly, as if you were also one of Jeremy’s friends. As if you were here because you were worried about fucking Jeremy Heere, and not because you wanted to make sure Michael was okay and had some extra support.

            An hour later, you received a text from your mother saying that she was waiting outside. So you told Michael where you were going, and you wandered your way out of the hospital, taking note of everywhere you went so that you could get back to where you were without wandering like a lost puppy without Michael. Your mom handed you your bag, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead, saying that she was always a phone call away if you wanted to go home or talk or needed anything else. Your heart swelled in your chest, and you fought back tears as you hugged her and told her you loved her, before you left her and your dad to return to Michael.

            Exhaustion hit you on the way back, and you plugged in two chargers for you and Michael’s phones. Eventually Michael fell asleep, head on your shoulder, and it’s just you and Mr.Heere and a few other people in the waiting room, questions filling your heads. You watched Jeremy’s dad stand, offering to get you coffee if you wanted, and you politely refused. Your head fell against Michael’s, as uncomfortable as it was for your neck, and eventually, against all the discomfort of that day, you fell asleep.

[biaswreckingfics]

Forsaken: Part 9

Author: biaswreckingyourlifefics

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.8k

Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter

Chanyeol: Can we talk? Please?

You had been rereading that message for nearly 7 hours now. At first, you were surprised he texted you, and then you were annoyed. You were so beyond over the drama. You just had to decide if that meant you were over Chanyeol also. Never responding to the text, you were surprised when another two pop in an hour later.

Chanyeol: I know I keep fucking up, and that maybe I don’t deserve you in my life but let me explain everything to you.

Chanyeol: If you’re willing to hear me out… Meet me at the park in an hour. I’ll wait for you.

You glance up at the clock after you read the last message. 7:05 P.M. Was this going to be it? Were you finally going to get down to the bottom of this? Or were you going to make up for a couple of days and then have some more bullshit happen? You really didn’t think you could be tugged along anymore.

You sat on the couch and thought about what you would even say to him if you saw him. You also debated for a long time if you would even go. When you next glance up at the clock, it was already 8:15 P.M. Over an hour had passed. Was he there waiting for you like he said he’d be? After arguing with yourself, you decide to go and hear him out. Throwing on a hoodie, you head for the door, wondering to yourself just how long he’d be willing to wait for you.

By the time you got to the park, it was 8:28 P.M. A half an hour later than he said. You took note of the fact that it was slightly chilly and wished you had grabbed something warmer than a hoodie. You almost felt bad for making him wait. Almost.

When you finally find him, he’s sitting on a swing, rocking it slightly. You look at his back for a moment before finally heading over to him. He must’ve heard you approaching because his head snaps toward you before you reach him. He stands up when you get closer to him.

“Y/N, you came…” He says in amazement. “I mean, thanks for coming.”

You nod and sit down on the swing that was next to his. Chanyeol sat back down as well, and you took this opportunity to look at him. He was wearing a black hoodie and pants, with a cap on his head. You noted that his eyes were bloodshot and puffy like he had been crying. You also noticed the tip of his nose was red from the cold.

“I am so sorry for putting you through all of this bullshit… For basically everything that has happened since I went on tour. I wish I could go back in time and change… well, everything.” He looks down at his hands that were nervously twitching in his lap. “Daeun told me everything… I’m so sorry for blaming it all on you. I should’ve realized it was me.”

“Well, it was kind of both of us.” You finally speak.

He smiles sadly. “It wasn’t you, Y/N. It was really all me.”

You stare at him, waiting for him to continue. When he notices you’re not going to say anything, he sighs.

“She knew I had feelings for you, even before that night on the balcony. I guess she’s known for a while, but hearing it out loud is what helped her make a decision.”

“Wait, why would she think that before the night on the balcony?”

“Little things I did, I guess. That night at the bar, when we both kind of ignored her. When we were hanging out in my dorm room, and she walked in. The countless times she caught me attempting to type a text good enough to send to you. I don’t know... Apparently, there were a lot of things.”

That tidbit of information surprises you. You had no clue about the unsent texts, but you also hadn’t realized how all these things combined would look. In hindsight, it would appear that more was going on between the two of you than either of you would ever admit to her.

“But that night on the balcony, you said you loved her more…” Your eyes start to burn as the unwanted memory pops back into your head.

“I lied.”

You nearly give yourself whiplash when you turn towards him before whispering, “You what?”

He finally turns toward you. “I lied to you. I never loved Daeun more than you.”

Your heart was beating triple time in your chest. He said it plain as day, with zero hesitation. “Chanyeol, what are you saying to me?”

“I only told you that because I didn’t want to admit to myself what I really wanted. That I was in love with you still, and not in love with my girlfriend. That I had spent the past few months with the wrong girl, and that I played with both of your hearts.”

Not believing what you were hearing, you almost ask him to repeat himself. Your heart was beating so loud that it was causing a whooshing sound in your ears, and you were almost sure that he could hear it.

You quietly ask, “Why?”

“I knew I couldn’t be with you after what happened while I was on tour. I’m not a good enough guy for you... but you were all I could think about. No matter how much I threw myself into music and shows, you were always at the forefront of my mind...” He pauses like he was getting lost back in those memories before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“When I met Daeun, she quieted those thoughts. I had to move on from you for my own sanity, and I did like Daeun. She was funny and smart, but as soon as I got you back in my life, that all went to hell. You were all I wanted, but I was already with Daeun. I felt so guilty for wanting someone besides my girlfriend, so I tried to make it up to her any way I could.”

“By telling me to stay away from you?” You quietly ask.

He nods. “That and all the other shit. When she broke up with me, I didn’t want to admit that everything was my fault. That I’m such a fuck up, and I can’t make anyone happy.”

As he spoke, a tear slid down his cheek. When you saw that, you felt your heart break into millions of little pieces.

“Chanyeol, you are not a fuck up. Yes, you made some mistakes and some incredibly stupid decisions, but you are not a fuck up.” You turn his face towards you. “Do you hear me, Chanyeol?”

As more tears slide down his face, he whispers, “I am so sorry…”

You pull him into a hug. “It’s okay, Chan. I forgive you... Please quit beating yourself up.”

The two of you stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms. Both of you ignoring the weather as it became colder and neither of you willing to move for a long time.

-2 days later-

Wanting to escape all the drama, you decided to host a dinner and movie night with all of your friends. You wanted and needed everyone to reconnect. There were too many arguments and hurtful words thrown at each other over the past few months, and you just wanted to rebuild the bond you all had.

You planned on cooking a nice dinner, and by cooking, you meant ordering most of it from a restaurant. However, when you told the boys about your idea, Kyungsoo and Minseok immediately invited themselves over to help. Apparently, they really were keeping track of your kitchen fires. You told them countless times you didn’t need any help, but they showed up an hour early anyway. It was like they didn’t believe you.

“You are NOT kicking me out of my own kitchen, Kyungsoo!” You shout at the younger man.

“Fine, but at least sit off to the side or something.” He tries to push you over to the edge of the kitchen. You stare at him in disbelief, and he sighs. “Okay, okay. Will you put the stuff from the restaurant in the oven so it doesn’t get cold?”

Confused, you ask, “Do I turn it on?”

Kyungsoo looks at you exasperatedly. “No, you don’t turn it on! The containers will melt.”

Fighting the urge to whip him with the towel you spotted on the counter, you put the containers in the oven. Secretly, you were super happy they had come over early to help. You had been slightly worried you’d mess something up, but they didn’t need to know that.

“Sooo… Y/N….” You look over at Minseok, who was staring at you intensely. “You and Chanyeol, huh?”

“No… There was no ‘me and Chanyeol’. Not really… well, kind of, but… never mind.”

“Come on! I’m like your older brother! I’ve known you since you were a geeky little teenager. Tell me….”

You stare at him with mock outrage. “Excuse you! I was not a geeky teenager! Besides, there’s nothing really to tell.” You meet his eyes and notice him giving you an amused stare. “Okay. I liked Chanyeol, and he liked me, but we were never together.”

Both of the boys stay silent until Minseok says, “Continue. I know there’s more.”

“Really… we just used to make out and – “

“Stop. Please, stop. My ears are going to start bleeding.” Kyungsoo says from your right.

Rolling your eyes, you say, “I wasn’t going to talk about that! I just… I loved him. Love him.”

The boys stare at you with wide eyes. You watch as Kyungsoo drops the spoon he was using to stir the rice into the bowl.

Minseok slowly turns toward him. “Did you know about this?” Kyungsoo stays silent, shaking his head no. “Since when? For how long? Who all knows?”

Minseok kept bombarding you with questions, so you tell them about all the stuff they had been apparently oblivious to over the years. After you tell them everything, you can see that they are slightly sad they were never told about your feelings. This was confirmed when Kyungsoo’s voice deepened, signaling he wasn’t joking around any longer.

“You could’ve told us, Y/N.”

“I know, but I technically didn’t tell anyone. They all figured it out on their own.”

“Remember when we used to be close? When you actually liked and talked to us? When we meant something to you?” Minseok dramatically says while putting his hand to his chest, feigning hurt.

Kyungsoo sighs and looks up at the ceiling like he was asking for patience to deal with Minseok acting extra.

A while later, after everyone showed up and ate dinner, the alcohol was pulled out, and the movie was turned into background noise. Everything had been going really well. Chanyeol had been sitting next to you, and the two of you had been having a really good time, laughing nonstop.

The more and more everyone drank, the more obnoxious they became, which was completely normal for them, except for one. Baekhyun had been getting quieter and quieter, which was completely out of character for him.

You knew something was wrong, so you quickly get up and go sit next to him. “Hey, why are you so quiet?”

“Just not in a party mood.” He replies quietly, not looking at you.

Wondering if it was because of the kiss, you start to ask him, “Baek – “

He interrupts you. “I see you and Chanyeol have made up. That’s good, Y/N, really good.”

You watch as he takes a giant gulp of his drink. His words and actions were confusing you. “Baek, are you okay?”

Finally getting him to look at you, he turns toward you and smiles. “Yeah, sorry, just in a mood. Go and talk to Chanyeol. He looks lost by himself.”

You glance over at Chanyeol, who was talking to Minseok before turning back and searching Baekhyun’s face. “Chanyeol looks fine to me…”

“Really, Y/N, I’m not in much of a mood to entertain people right now.”

You slowly nod and say okay. Deciding to give Baekhyun his space, you went back over to the other guys, who were talking about girls from their trainee days.

“Do you guys remember Jisoo?” Jongdae asks the group.

Yixing remembered her, which surprised you a little. “Oh yeah, whatever happened to her?”

“I don’t know, but did you know Jongin kissed her?”

You whip your head to the left to look at Jongin, seeing that his eyes were nearly bulging out of his head as he stares at Jongdae in shock. Jia, who was sitting to his left, slowly turns her head toward him, trying to decide if she was going to be mad at him.

“That was like 7 years ago! Why are you bringing her up now?!” Jongin shouts at the older man.

Jongdae smirks at him. “No reason.”

You quietly laugh to yourself and shake your head. Jongdae was such a little shit sometimes.

Jongin attempts to get the attention off him, so Jia wouldn’t be mad at him any longer. “Yeah, well what about Sehun?? He kissed her sister.”

Jongdae chokes on his drink. “He what?! How come I didn’t know about this?!

Sehun, who had been minding his own business, yells at Jongin. “Yah! No one was supposed to know about it!”

“Sorry. If I go down, you’re coming with me.” Jongin says as he shrugs his shoulders.

Sehun, not to be outdone, takes it a step further. “Okay then, I guess I’ll point out that Baekhyun kissed that trainee that idolized Taeyeon.” Now it was your turn to choke on your drink.

“Minah? When did you do that?!” Junmyeon asks, surprised.

Baekhyun completely ignores everyone and acts like he never heard a thing.

“He just doesn’t want to own up to it.” Sehun laughs as he looks over at Baekhyun to see if he can get a rise out of him.

Baekhyun turns his head to stare at the youngest member before nodding. “Yeah, I kissed her. Just like I kissed Y/N.”

The room goes completely silent, and it takes a moment for you to process what you had just heard. You could physically feel Chanyeol go shock still next to you, but that wasn’t something you could focus on at the moment.

Everyone starts looking between you and Baekhyun, but you can only stare at him. Your heart was beating extremely fast, and you thought you were going to cry. Everything was finally going well! What the fuck was he thinking?

You see the moment when Baekhyun realizes he messed up. He looks up at Chanyeol, his face changing to one of horror. “Wait. That’s not what I meant!”

You look over to your right to see Chanyeol standing up from the couch while glaring at Baekhyun.

“Chanyeol, let me explain. It was an accident.” He stands up from his seat. “It was me, not her.”

Before anyone could move, Chanyeol had gotten across the room and punched Baekhyun in the face. Everyone quickly sprang into action after that, a couple of the boys grabbing each man to stop them from escalating the fight.

You go over to Chanyeol and grab his hand to get his attention. “Chanyeol – “.

He rips his hand from yours, not even looking your way. You felt helpless as he pulled out of the arms of the other boys and walked out of your door.

“Chanyeol, wait!” You stare at the door, not believing this was happening.

When you turn back around, you notice everyone looking at you and Baekhyun for an explanation.

“What did you do?” Junmyeon breaks the silence.

Baekhyun immediately answers him. Not letting you take the blame in any way, shape, or form. “It was me. I kissed her the other day.”

“Why?” Minseok asks quietly.

Baekhyun sighs, prodding at the new cut on his lip. “Chanyeol was right. I like her, but she doesn’t like me back. I thought if I kissed her, maybe she could move on from him, but I was wrong. This is completely on me, not her.”

“Well, why the hell did you bring it up?” Sehun angrily asks, pissed off that they were falling right back into the same bullshit routine.

Baekhyun was quiet for a moment. “I guess I was just bitter... I’m upset that she doesn’t feel the same way, but I didn’t mean to blurt it out. I really have no idea what I was thinking…”

Junmyeon sighs. “Well, you’re gonna have fun explaining that to Chanyeol.” He sits back down on the couch and drops his head into his hands. “This is a mess.”

“I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry to everyone…” Baekhyun turns to look at you with tears in his eyes. You grab his hand and begin to take him towards the bathroom.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

“I’m really sorry…”

“I know, Baek.”