#I did not eat the onion I swear | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purple-imagines · 1 year ago

Text

Bloated?

Pairing - Paul Lahote x FemaleReader

Summary - Reader starts gaining weight and the pack starts noticing

Warnings - body shaming, kissing, swearing, pregnancy, vomiting, period talk, Jacob being an ass, kinda ooc

Word Count - 3693

Masterlist

Friday, June 6th

"Em?" Y/N asked looking into the mirror at her stomach. "Does my stomach look, I dont know, bloated to you?"

"Um, yeah, maybe a little bit. I dont think it's anything to worry about though." The older woman replied, after looking at the girls stomach.

"I just feel like I'm getting fat. Paul probably notices too." She put her head down.

"Honey, that boy loves you more than anything. You're his whole world. You have nothing to worry about. He imprinted on you and he loves you. Now stop putting yourself down and help me make this food for them animals."

The girl laughed and started getting the table set.

Tuesday, June 10th

"Hm. That's weird."

"What?" Leah asked, the girl staying at her house.

"Nothing, just my period was supposed to start 3 days ago. I'm sure it's fine, this happens sometimes."

"If you're sure, and hurry up Elijah is about to kill Klaus."

Thursday, June 19th

The girl let out a groan, flushing the toilet after being woken up with the sudden urge to vomit.

Saturday, June 21st

All the girls, Emily, Leah, Kim, and Y/N, were all out shopping and having a girls day.

While Leah and Kim were looking through sets of bikinis. Y/N pulled Emily to the side.

"Em, I think I might be pregnant."

"What? Why do you think that??"

"Um, my periods late, my stomach looks bloated, and I've been throwing up. Not to mention Paul made my favorite dinner the other night and I couldn't stand the smell."

"We need to get you a test then, Hon."

***

After Leah and Kim left, Emily let Y/N go into the bathroom to take the test.

Coming out the bathroom, Y/N starts stressing. "What if its positive? What will Paul think? How do I deal with this?"

"Hey. Hey. Just breath. Let's first figure out if you're pregnant or not." Emily calmly says.

"Yeah, you're right." Taking a deep breath she starts to calm, until the timer goes off and her eyes get wide. "Can you check?"

Emily walks into the bathroom and looks at the test, coming out with tears in her eyes. "Um, yeah, you're pregnant"

"Oh mi gosh. Em, what am I supposed to do? Paul and I haven't even talked about kids. What if he doesn't want any?"

"Don't jump to conclusions. Take a couple days to think, and tell Paul when you're ready."

"Thank you, Emily. You always know what to say." The girl wraps her arms around the woman.

Wednesday, June 25th

The imprints made burgers and the pack was having a cookout. Everyone was making their plates. Y/N started to make her plate putting 2 burgers, each with cheese, tomato, onion, and chili. Put a little bit of slaw on the side and some chips.

"Dang girl, you're hungry today." Embry joked, making the girl laugh.

"He's not kidding you are eating a lot more lately." Jacob grumbled.

The girl got quiet and let out a silent "oh".

"What was that? Jacob." Paul growled.

"I'm just saying look at her Paul, everyone here notices how big she's getting. Maybe she should cut back."

After hearing that the girl started to stand up. Paul grabbing her hand. "Its fine, Paul. I'm just gonna go home."

She quietly grabbed her bag and apologized for the inconvenience. "Sorry, I didn't realize I did that. You can have them." Then she walked out the house. Leah chasing after her.

"What the fuck Jacob?!" Paul yelled.

"Paul." Sam warned.

"No Sam. He called her fat, she's not fat."

"We don't need a fight to break out."

"If he didn't want a fight he wouldn't have said anything."

"Paul. Enough."

Paul was shaking horribly. Sam pushed him out the house.

"Really Jacob?!" Jared called, running after Sam and Paul.

"Why is everyone so mad? I just told her how it was. You all can see how much bigger she's getting." Jacob tried to justify himself.

"That doesn't mean that you point it out." Seth told him.

"I know you were all thinking it. Just because I have the guts to tell Paul how it is doesn't make me the bad guy."

"Maybe you should learn the whole story before you go around hurting people."

"Seth. What's that supposed to mean? Seth!"

Seth ran out the house, hoping to find Leah and Y/N.

"Embry? Even you said something."

"I was joking Jake. What you did was uncalled for." Embry scoffed.

"Come on."

"Just stop Jacob." Emily snapped, causing the three left there to widen there eyes.

"Emily. Seriously? You know she's bigger!" Jacob was getting angry.

"Yeah, Jacob. She's eating more and getting bigger, but it's none of your business!" Emily snapped again.

"What if eating so much is hurting her?"

"It's not though, Jacob."

"How do you know??"

"Jacob when she is ready you'll know. Until then shut up."

"Sorry, damn."

***

"Y/N!"

"Y/N"

"Damn, you're fast."

"What do you want Leah?" Y/N sighed as she stopped and turned around, her eyes red and puffy.

"Don't listen to Jacob. He's an asshole."

"I don't care about what Jake said."

"You do or you wouldn't be crying."

"He called me fat Leah. I've never been called that before." She started to tear up. "And it's not even that I'm fat."

"What is it then?"

"Leah...I'm pregnant."

"What!? That's great news."

"Yeah, except for the fact everyone thinks I'm a pig now."

"They do not. If anyone's a pig it's Jacob. Now come on, you need the feed that little one."

***

"Paul!"

"Calm down!"

"Shift back!"

Sam phased into his wolf.

"Paul!"

"He's such an asshole." Paul snarled.

"You need to shift back. Calm down."

"I'm going to rip his throat out."

"Paul!"

"Come on Paul. She needs you." Jared joined.

"I'm trying! I can't control it."

"Calm your thoughts. Breath."

Paul started to shift back, pulling up his shorts in the process. Jared and Sam following shortly after.

***

"Y/N/N! Are you ok? You know Jake doesn't mean to be an ass." Seth tried to reassure the girl.

The girl laughed and grabbed Seth's hands. "Yes. I'm good. Thank you for checking up on me."

It was quiet for a few moments as the trio started walking back to the house. "So..." Seth piped up. "Does she know?"

Leah gasped. "What?! Know?! You told Seth before you told me!"

"He wasn't supposed to find out! He walked in on me having a meltdown about Paul." Y/N defended herself.

"Shit." The girl squeaked. "Paul! He's going to be asking questions. What am I supposed to tell him! I'm not ready. I just found out myself. I need to process this more. Stupid Jacob and his stupid big mouth!"

"Hey! Hey. Just breathe. Paul will understand if you don't want to talk." Leah reassured.

"Are you sure? Because Paul-"

Seth cut the girl off. "She's sure Y/N/N. He wouldn't pressure you into telling him something you don't want to. Now let's go eat I'm sure Little Bit in there is starving."

Both girls let out laughs.

"Um, guys, actually I was just going to go home. I don't wanna face Jacob's apologizes right now."

"Y/F/N you need to eat." Leah demanded.

"Just bring me something when you're finished? Please."

Leah sighed, knowing she wasn't changing the girls decision. "Fine. But you better eat everything I bring you."

"Pinky promise." She held up both her pinkies to Seth and Leah, Seth grabbing her pinky with his, giggling. Leah rolled her eyes, but nevertheless did the same.

"And..." The girl trailed. "Tell Paul that I took his truck. And that I'm ok?"

"So needy." Leah joked, dragging the 'y'.

"But fine I can do that."

"Thank you! You two are the best!"

"We know." They both said at the same time, causing the trio to laugh.

***

Back at home, the girl, took off her shoes and changed into pajama shorts and one of Paul's shirts.

Turning on her and Leah's favorite show to watch, 'The Vampire Diaries'. It was nice to watch people play supernatural creatures. Got their minds off of the real ones that loomed outside.

***

"Finally!" Was the first thing Leah and Seth heard as they walked through the door into Emily's and Sam's.

"Where's Y/N?" Was the second.

Leah was the one to tell Paul the situation.

"So, you just let her leave?" Paul said.

"Yes. She is a grown woman Paul." Leah retorted.

"She didn't even eat."

"I told her I would bring her something."

"I think I should go over there."

"No, you shouldn't." Sam butted in.

"And why not?!"

"Because Paul you just shifted you don't need to do that around her."

"I wouldn't hurt her." Paul glared.

"That's not the point. I said no and my answer is final. You will not go over to Y/N's tonight." Using his alpha voice, making Paul growl and leave the table.

***

"Is it bad that I'm kind of glad Sam did that?" The girl let out to her best friend.

"Yes!" Leah exclaimed.

"I just- I don't know what I would say to him."

"Your fear of confrontation is peeking through."

"Leah! This is serious."

"And I'm being serious. Paul deserves to know."

"I know. I'm just..." The girl let out a sigh. "Scared."

"You should never be scared with him. He looks at you like you're his sun. The thing that is keeping him alive."

"What if he doesn't want a baby? What if this is the one thing he can't handle with me." She whispered.

"That boy would love to start a family with you. The timing may not be ideal, but I've seen the way he looks at you. I saw the way he looked at you before the imprint. You are his literal everything and not just because fate decided you were destined. You were meant to have forever with each other way before fate decided it."

Y/N had tears in her eyes by the time Leah had finished. "I really needed that Leah." She sniffled. "I guess, sometimes, my insecurities take over. I've just been so scared, with the vampires and Bella. There's no time for a baby. Not in his life. He already has so much on him. Why do I need to add more?"

"Quit putting yourself down. You know you come first, when it comes to anything with Paul. A baby is not a burden, or something that just adds pressure. A baby can bring joy and bring people together. Maybe that's what we all need right now."

"Yeah. Maybe you're right."

"No maybe about it. I am right."

"Oh so modest." The girls giggled.

Thursday, June 26th

Awoken to heavy knocks on the front door, both girls growned, having stayed up most of the night talking.

"Y/N. Get the door." Leah grumbled.

"Why me?" The girl whined.

"It's your house."

"You kept me up all night."

"You mean you kept me up all night."

"No."

"Just open the door."

"Fine." She whined, pushing herself out of bed, looking at the clock on her nightstand that read 8:07 am.

Stomping to the door, grumbling profanities the whole way. She pulled the door open only to be greeted with-

"Paul?"

"Hey! I couldn't sleep without making sure you were ok. Jacob was an asshole. He never should have said those untrue things. I love your body and you should too. I think you're beautiful, inside and out. I don't care that you can eat two burgers, I love a woman that can hold her food. Yo-"

"Paul." She cut him off. "As sweet as this is, can we do it later? I'm sorry. Leah kept me up until 5 this morning and all I wanna do is curl up and take a hundred year nap."

"Yeah. Yeah. Of course. Want a cuddle buddy?" A smirk slowly rising on his face.

"You know I could never turn you down." She grinned pulling him inside and onto the couch.

***

By the time the girl woke Paul was already gone, a note in his place, telling her he had patrol but would be back after.

Leah was gone too, so the girl assumed the pack needed her as well.

Grabbing some clothes, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

***

After a much needed shower, Y/N looked out the window and noticed Paul's truck still in the driveway and his keys still on her nightstand.

Grabbing the keys, and getting in the truck, she started her drive to Emily's.

***

"Hey Em." She called, walking inside.

"Heyyyy." Said girl peeked her head out the kitchen. "I need to talk to you."

"Ok, nothing stressful about that sentence at all."

"Have you told Paul?"

"Diving right in, I see." She muttered.

"Huh?" Emily called from the kitchen.

"Oh! Uh- no I haven't."

"Do you know when you're going to? Because I think you should soon, it'll make all this doubt you have go away."

"I don't know. Soon though, promise!"

Tuesday, July 7th

Everyone was gathered around Emily and Sam's table, laughing and joking around. Well, everyone except Jacob he was upset with Bella, which made him brood.

Y/N sat beside Paul, occasionally stealing the tomatoes off his plate, he always put them to the side for her to grab because they were her favorites and he wasn't that fond of them.

Going unnoticed by the pack and the imprints, everytime she'd take one Jacob would roll his eyes and scoff.

Grabbing the last one of Paul's plate and about to put it in her mouth she was stopped by Jacob's rude voice.

"Are you serious?" He scoffed.

Everyone looked around confused as to what his sudden outburst was about.

"Everything ok, Jacob?" Emily asked.

Jacob let out a little laugh and clicked his tongue.

This time Y/N spoke up.

"Are you upset, Jacob?"

"Me? What? No." He paused. "I do think Paul should be though."

"Why would Paul be upset?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Because his girlfriend has already had more than enough, but she's still eating. And not just that but taking it off his plate. Do you really need that much food Y/N? All it does is make you fatter, which is definitely not something you need. If anything you need to exercise more." He spat at her.

His outburst caused Kim and Emily to let out gasps. Jared and Paul standing up.

Paul had his mouth open about to say something but before he could Y/N interrupted.

"Paul. It's fine. He can feel the way he feels. I'm just gonna go home."

"No you're not." Emily piped in. "Jacob if you could please leave."

"What?" Jacob exclaimed.

"I asked if you could leave, I expect you to use respect in my house and until I see you give some to Y/N I want you to leave."

"She's not even apart of the pack."

"She's an imprint. We are apart of this pack, now are you gonna apologize or did I need to get Paul to escort you out?"

Jacob scuffed, "I'm sorry I called you fat, it may be true but it was not nice of me to say."

Paul was fuming, "I accept your apology"

"No she doesn't." Paul vented.

"Paul, it's fine I don't wanna cause a fight."

"You're not causing the fight. He is."

"He apologized. That's enough. Let's finish eating, then I have to tell you something."

***

"You wanted to tell me something?" Paul said, as he drove them home.

"Can it wait? I'm really tired and just wanna go to sleep."

"Of course, Sweetheart." He kisses her temple.

Thursday, July 9th

"I'm telling him."

All three girls let out simultaneous screams.

"Finally!" Emily exclaimed.

"Took you long enough" Leah joked.

"I still can't believe you're pregnant." Kim gasped.

"Well maybe I should wait a little longer, maybe until August?" Y/N let out a cheeky grin.

"No!" All three girls yelled.

The guys were on patrol and the imprints had the house to themselves. There was a knock at the door.

The girl laughed as she got up to get the door.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Leah questioned Emily.

"No." Emily whispered out.

"Y/N don't answer that." Leah called.

"Guys I invited someone." Y/N answered back.

"Who? We're your only friends." Leah joked.

Y/N opened the door, only for Bella to be standing awkwardly on the other side.

"Hi! Come in. Come in."

"No." Leah deadpanned.

"I thought it would be nice. Jacob really likes her."

"Why do you care what Jacob thinks? He's an ass."

"He wasn't always one. And a friend of Jake's is a friend of ours."

"Well, I think it was nice of Y/N to invite Bella. Make yourself at home Bella, the guys shouldn't be back for a while so it's just us girls. Right now we're just talking but later we're baking!" Emily clapped.

"Ok." Bella squeaked out.

"I don't think we've met. I'm Kim." She introduced herself.

"Bella." She said and waved.

"Well sit down, come on." Emily waved her over. "You ok if we still talk about.."

"Of course! As long as you promise not to tell the guys." Y/N put on her best serious face and looked Bella dead in her eyes.

"I barely talk to them."

"You can't tell Jacob."

"I won't tell Jacob."

"Ok..well I'm pregnant, the baby is Paul's and I haven't told him yet."

"Omg. Congratulations."

"Thank you! I'm kinda in this adrenaline thing right now and I'm hoping it won't wear off by the time Paul gets here." The girls giggled.

"So. Boys!" Emily exclaimed. "Jared?"

"We're really good. He's the greatest. The other day he tried to make me breakfast in bed, he got up really early, my parents were out of town, word of advice Em, never and I mean ever let Jared in the kitchen. It was sweet though he brought me fried eggs and bacon, only all of it was black." Kim laughed at the memory. "And I have a burnt spot on the wall in my kitchen, he still won't tell me what happened."

"He's such a klutz."

"But he makes it so adorable!"

The girls laughed at how in love she was.

"I already told y'all all my boy struggles." Y/N threw her hands up. "What about Sam?" She wiggled her eyebrows, causing the girls to let out giggles.

"Sam is..." Emily let out a sigh, "Sam is perfect. The wedding is soon, as you all know. But enough about me I wanna know about your love life Leah. Oh, and Bella would you like anything to drink, we've got wine and water, sorry not much."

"I'm good. Thank you." Bella muttered, still awkward.

"Leahhhh. Love life. Go." Emily may be a little tipsy.

"Can't talk about something that's non-existent."

"Leah don't lie. We're all friends here." Y/N blurted out.

"Fine. I did meet this girl....but that's all I'm saying!"

Emily and Kim let out pouts while Y/N laughed, maybe letting them have wine was a bad idea.

"You." Emily pointed at Bella.

"Me?" Bella questioned.

"Yes. How's your vamp?"

"Oh, um- he's nice, I guess."

"No. I need more than nice."

"He's really good at dancing." Bella shrugged.

"I need more." Emily begged.

Maybe Bella should of said yes to that wine.

***

It had been a good four hours and 4 out of 5 of the girls were more than tipsy. The 5th one just laughing her ass off at her friends.

The guys were in for a surprise when they came in. There was flour everywhere. In places where flour shouldn't be.

The girls were sitting in a circle in the kitchen, giggling, waiting on their cookies and brownies and muffins to be done. They got a little over board.

Then the door opened and the girls went silent. Sam walked through the door to be met with flour and baking ingredients all over the table and counters, along with 3 empty bottles of wine. He could hear whispers in the kitchen.

"Maybe if we stay really quiet they won't realize we're here." Emily whispered. The other girls giggling. "Shhhhh."

Sam peered over into the kitchen, watching the five girls huddle down, not noticing he was there. Hearing the guys he quieted them letting them look.

Emily peered up seeing the guys watch them causing her to squeak and the other girls to look up.

Each guy had an amused look on his face, watching the girls.

"Welp, grab one." Sam called.

Sam scooped Emily up into his arms, causing her to let out of squeal.

Jared did the same to Kim, and Jacob to Bella. Seth grabbed his sister, and Paul grabbed Y/N.

"Paul, wait, I have to tell you something" Y/N said. "I'm not drunk. I can't even drink."

He took the girl and sat her down outside. She stood in front of him, and he gave her a look to continue.

Hearing loud noises coming from the house, they both looked over only to see all four girls watching them with wide grins on their faces.

"What is happening?" Paul asked, with a confused smile.

In the background you could hear the girls screaming with excitement.

"Here goes nothing. Paul..."

"Yes."

"I'm pregnant."

Paul's face was pure shock, all the girls in the background screaming and cheering.

"We're gonna have a baby?"

"Yeah. We're gonna have a baby. It's why I've been getting bigger, as Jacob so kindly reminds me."

"I'll kill him if you want me to."

"I know you would."

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Why is the leech lover here?"

"I invited her. She's actually really nice. I get why Jacob likes her."

"I can't believe we're going to have a baby."

"Me neither."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too."

2K notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 6 months ago

Note

Hi! This is anon with the doctor oc.

I have not a request but just a thought. Imagine Doc revealing to the crew that flowers can be edible (I think it can be new info for most of them) just for it to backfire immediately because someone is trying to eat a poisonous flower the next minute

What Did You Eat, Bubblegum?

Hey Doc Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,600+

Synopsis: Sharing your passion has ended in un very foreseen circumstances, but leaving you a little upset regardless.

Themes: Platonic!Bubblegum x gn!reader, Platonic!Killer x gn!reader, softness, little bit of flirting, allergic reaction, poisoning, venting, swearing, medical practice, patient x doctor, terms of endearment, reader is referred to as "Doc" - the doctor of the Kid Pirates

Notes: As someone who has a basic guide for foraging on edible weeds and native plants in my home country, this is very dear to my heart. I use flowers in most of my cooking, especially as garnishes. Onion Weed (three corner leek) is my favorite edible flower. Screengrab from this clip.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Oh, come on,” you whisper beneath your breath, hastily rolling back the sanitary lining sheet for your treatment cot to house its next victim.

“Hey Doc," the voice of the hulking first mate called over from the threshold of your office door, "Got another one for you.” Bubblegum was heaped over his shoulders, his face three-times what it ought to have been.

Bubblegum was hastily placed down in a heaping thud, his head immediately flopping backwards and his mouth hastily gasping and gulping for air. His skin was blotchy and donning the same vibrant hue of purple as his lengthy hair.

“What did you eat, Bubblegum?” you gently coax your sensitive crewmate, noticing the rise in welts and pus-filled boils forming beneath the surface of his skin. Bubblegum attempted to smile at you, his teeth drawing back to reveal a sheepish grimace.

“Wih wahs’ah fauwah,” he muffled past his abnormally puffy lips. Your puzzlement was depicted on your brow as you looked to Killer. He sighed, rotating his head on his shoulders and donning the 'hat' of 'muffle-translator.'

“It was a flower,” he nodded to you, gently walking to perch his hips against the back of your office chair.

“And where did you find it, sweety?” you asked Bubblegum as you donned your hands with latex gloves.

“Doun bai n’dah wayah n’ groien’ i’da reyds,” you nodded along to Bubblegum's muffled words before looking over to Killer.

“Down by the water and growing in the reeds,” Killer bobbed his mask along with each nonchalant explanation. You nodded, looking over to Bubblegum and readying an aloe-based balm for his itching skin.

“And what color was it?” you bit back your growing smile as you added, “Be as descriptive as you can, sweetheart. It helps with every detail to know how to treat you.” Killer rumbled a soft growl below his breath as Bubblegum began to explain himself.

“N’ah sem ehz woit n’dah pels ‘er ewow,” you sucked your entire bottom lip into your mouth as you turned away from both men, overcome with the ridiculousness of the encounter, and stifling a laugh with knowing Killer would have to translate for you. “N'ah miwow ehz weyd n’deyre wahz bwaek speirz grewin’ aouda n’dah senn’r. D’ehr wayah wah’z pewlin’ inah cwoiyew ahda boyum.”

Without missing a beat, you straightened your back and bore your eyes directly into Killer's mask and waited for his translation. He huffed back a guttural growl, inhaling deeply as he translated for you.

“The stem was white and the petals were yellow, the middle was red and there were black spikes growing out of the center,” he uttered concisely, “The water was pooling in a coil at the bottom.” You nodded, gently mincing up a remedy with your mortar and pestle and bringing up a drawstring bag.

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded along, placing down your mortar and pestle and removing a portion of the creamy aloe concoction and pasting it on his features, “And what did you learn?” Bubblegum’s face blushed a soft hue of pink as he widened his eyes to depict his innocence.

“Notta gow fowahjin’ ithow m’hawaht doktnar,” he uttered sorrowfully. You smiled down at him as Killer translated for you.

“Not to go foraging without the ship's doctor,” Killer uttered nonchalantly with a soft shrug.

“My hot doctor, you mean,” you nod back at him over your shoulder, finishing off with Bubblegum and giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Use this balm until the itching, swelling and bruising goes down. Okay, sweet pea?”

Bubblegum nodded along and gave you as much of a close-lipped smile as he could muster. The purple-haired crewman exited your office and closed the door behind him, prompting you to exhale while removing your latex gloves with a curt ‘snap.’

Just as you began to relax, two arms snaked around your waist and tugged you back into the wall of flesh and muscle behind you. You shrieked in response, your whole body growing tense with fright.

“You little shit,” a husky pur called down into your ear, forcing lighting to surge from your coccyx up to your cranium in a fizzling crackle, “You could understand Bubblegum the whole time, couldn't you?” A small squeak was pulled from your throat.

His arms felt like everything all at once, overwhelming your senses. Secure and welcoming, taunting and warning, strong and intimidating: all of the things you knew Massacre Soldier Killer to be. You lulled your head back on his chest, looking up at his mask adorned face and giving him a coy, pouty smile.

“I didn't want anything to get lost in translation,” you shrugged in his arms, clicking your tongue up at him with a mocking taunt painted on your lips, “Didn't want to miss an opportunity for you to use that pretty voice I love so much, big guy. It's always a joy to fuck with you a little bit.”

“Oh, you're a little bratty today,” he purred down at you, the hue of his icy blue orbs gazing dangerously down at you through the several holes in the mask, “What's got you in such a shit mood, hm? Wanna tell Daddy about it?” You refused to pay his comment any mind, instead shrugging out of his arms and tidying up your work bench.

“You know, if you keep using that one slip up against me, it's gonna lose its charm,” you scoffed at him, ridding the cot of the sanitary lining and throwing it into the trash compartment beside the bench. You spray down the leather lining to sanitize it, wiping it down and casting away the disposable material in the same trash compartment.

Killer continued to watch you, eying you off and reading your body language with ease.

“So you don't want to talk about it?” he offered you, spinning your desk chair around to watch it rotate with a soft squeak at the metal base, “Gonna do that thing you do and pretend you're fine until you explode?” You huff out a puff of exasperated air and turn back around to him.

“Look, I'm just a little pissed that my idea of fun turned around and detonated in my face, is all,” you pout at him, folding your arms and glaring at the trash compartment at the side of your bed. “When I borrowed that book on edible plants for remedial purposes from the Blackleg chef, I should've known it'd turn to shit. Sometimes I forget the crew I serve with, I should've known better.”

“You shouldn't feel apologetic for your enthusiasm,” his tone was solid and baring a hint of warning, “We love your enthusiasm. I-... I love your enthusiasm.” His stutter caught you off guard, prompting you to arch your brow at him.

“I'm fully aware of how much you all enjoy my enthusiasm,” you arch your neck and look down your nose at him, your pout still evident on your features, “I just wish you'd all check in with me before eating random shit you find on the side of the bay.”

Killer’s soft, high-pitched giggle prompted you to drop your pout and offer him a soft, half-smile. His laugh continued as you joined yours alongside his, softly reaching forward and placing your hand on his scarred, left forearm.

“Alright, alright,” you squeeze his arm and teeter off your joint laughter, “Let's get back to work, yeah? I've gotta do some paperwork correspondence with Trafalgar.”

“Trafalgar?” you could hear the audible arch in his brow, his disdain depicted in his tone, “Why?”

“He was asking about something, is all. Something to do with my dissertation paper back when I graduated,” you shrug, gently releasing his arm and turning back to your desk. “I don't get to geek out about my thesis often, and getting his questions via Den-Den made me feel passionate about my studies again.”

Killer nodded along with you, slowly returning your desk chair back towards your desk and gently coaxing you to sit down in it.

“Dinner’s in about about thirty to forty, if you're coming,” he uttered beneath his breath. As he turned away, he felt your hand clutch his wrist and hold him in place. He gently glanced down to look at you, your face not leaving your desk as you withheld your growing fluster.

“Thanks, Kil,” you continued to hold your eyes fixed on the desk in front of you, “For listening to me, I mean. It means-... It means a lot to me.”

He leaned down, his mask brushing it's brow gently against your temple.

“I'm happy to be on ‘Doc Diffusal Duty’ any time,” he whispered softly before pulling away, “You wanna talk, know I'm here, alright?”

“You're the best, big guy,” you give his wrist two rapid squeezes before letting go of it, returning back to your writing. Killer halted at your door, glancing back at you and watching as you returned to scratching and marking your journal and shifting through the papers.

“It's paella, by the way,” he called back over to you, “Just in case you were wondering.”

“I'll have an epinephrine on standby for Wire,” you called over your shoulder, “We both know there's no holding him back from your cooking.”

“Oh, Doc,” he clutched his heart in feigned dramatical emphasis, “You flatter me, but there's really no need.” You paused, cocking your head to the side and your brows knit in puzzlement. Killer giggled softly before his regular baritone cadence returned.

“I used chorizo as a substitute for shellfish, just to give you a bit of a break.”

Before you had the opportunity to turn the entire way around, you noticed Killer was already away from darkening the threshold of the doorway. Your bottom lip quivered at the thought that he changed the menu just to suit both Wire’s anaphylaxis, and to give you a break from playing disciplinary warden and watchdog.

You were definitely going to volunteer for washing up duty as payment for his thoughtfulness.

#one piece #x reader #hey doc #gn!reader #x gn!reader #kid pirates #bubblegum one piece #killer one piece #ask snail #snail answers #massacre soldier killer #killer x reader #bubblegum x reader

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thebearer · 1 year ago

Note

wait syd and willow. carm low key didn’t give syd a chance to say yes, but willows in her little high chair watching her cook and explain how to cook it, and once she’s down baby willow baby claps

"Can you watch her? I'll be two seconds." Carmen ducks his head in, propping the carrier on the table, not waiting for Sydney's response.

"Chef, wait. I-I'm not-"

"-Thank you, Chef! I'll be right back!" Carmen shouts, bounding out of the empty kitchen.

Sydney blinked at the baby, the newest Berzatto. Of course Syd had been around Willow, thought she was cute and sweet, but it was always with you or Carmen around. Never alone. That was Tina's thing, maybe even Marcus', not Sydney's. She didn't know what to do with a baby, what to do if she started crying.

Thankfully, Willow seemed content, sucking on her pacifier and giving Sydney a wide eyed gaze back at her.

"Uh, hey, Willow." Sydney said, voice lilting just a tad in a cringe high octave. She shook her head, moving back to the prep, eyes flicking from the baby back to the onions.

Willow started to whimper, a huff of a whine that had Sydney's spine straightening. Fuck, where was Carmen? Or you?

"Hey, uh, no, no, no, don't cry." Sydney pleaded. Willow seemed to relax at her voice.

Sydney briefly recalled Carmen telling Tina and Richie that Willow really liked watching him cook. Liked when he explained the recipes to her, like she understood. That you'd tease him lightly, but she loved it.

Sydney took a deep breath in, lifting up the knife. Just talk to her like you would the chefs who shadowed.

"Um, so I'm prepping the vegetables." Sydney started, feeling a little awkward, a little silly. "We're doing the chaos menu tonight, and that has this lamb sirloin type thing, and we let it marinate in a stock." Sydney's eyes flashed to Willow, who watched her contently, eyes still bright and wide, focused on her.

"Hopefully it will be good, because sometimes I let it soak too long and Carmen- your dad, gets kinda mad. Not mad, I guess, more like frustrated? I dunno, lamb's difficult, ya know? Tender so you've got to be careful with it because it absorbs-"

Willow's tiny gurgle cut Sydney off. A happy giggle around her pacifier that turned to a coo, legs kicking out in excitement.

Sydney paused, grinning gently back at the baby. "Yeah, well, I mean, it is exciting. You're right. It's cool because we got the rainbow chard in, and I'm going to make this take on collard greens out of it to pair with it. I hope it pairs good. It did when I tried it the other day." Sydney smiled when Willow laughed, a baby cackle that had her laughing too.

"You like that? Well, you probably like hearing about it, but I don't think you'd like to eat it... Maybe? I dunno, do you eat foods like that or is it still like sweet potatoes and mashed peas?" Sydney hummed, cutting the onions quickly.

"She's gotten more adventurous, but still a few more weeks until she could have the chard." You hum from the doorway, beaming with the baby bag over your shoulder.

Sydney flushed in embarrassment. "Hey, I, uh, I just... Carmen put her in here, and-and she started crying so-"

You shook your head lightly, walking over to Willow's carrier. "She liked watching you cook. I swear, she's her Daddy's child. Looks just like him too. Like, how's that fair?" You snorted lightly, fingertip tracing down the slope of Willow's nose- Carmen's nose.

"Thanks for watching her, Syd." You smiled softly. "She likes you, ya know?"

"Oh, c'mon. I-I mean, she's super cool. Like very chill to cook with. Therapeutic." Sydney muttered, grinning at Willow gently.

"She is." You nod. "Can you believe her and Teddy are related?" You snort lightly.

Sydney laughs, shaking her head. Teddy was not allowed in the kitchen, not since she snatched Carmen's knife and chased Richie. Truthfully, Sydney was rooting for her and thought the timeout Carmen gave her was unfair.

"No, I mean... they're both good kids, ya know?" Sydney shrugged lightly.

"Yeah, they are." You hum lovingly, cooing gently down at Willow. "I'll take her to Carm's office, but thank you-"

"-Oh, you know, you can just leave her here with me if you want." Sydney offered. Your brows shot up in surprise, and truthfully, Sydney was surprised herself. "I mean, if you have something to do. I know you've gotta place the orders and stuff, so I can watch her while you do that."

"Are you sure?" You asked carefully.

"Yeah, no problem. I was just explaining lamb." Sydney joked. "It's kinda therapeutic, really."

"Told you." Carmen quipped, holding Teddy upside down, dodging her kicking feet and shrills. "Helps you work through recipes. Wills' gonna have a Michelin star by nine, just you wait."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him. "Don't get her crazy, Berzatto. You're gonna deal with her." You glared at him, blushing at the grin he gave you, pressing a kiss to Teddy's cheek while she squirmed and giggled loudly.

You rolled your eyes lightly, thumb running over Willow's soft cheek. "I'll be in the office if you need me, alright? Thank you."

"No problem." Sydney smiled softly, watching you shut the door to the office muffling Teddy's screech. Sydney looked back over at Willow, putting the freshly chopped prep into the container. "Anyways, so now we gotta get the marinate going with the stock...."

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zepskies · 10 hours ago

Text

Lost in Translation

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female POC!Reader

Summary: Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you?

AN: So after getting requests for a Soldier Boy x POC!Reader, I’ve had a short series in development called Unravel Me. I’m a bit stalled on the outline right now, so I thought this could be a fun way to introduce their relationship and see if you guys think I should continue with the prequel, kind of like how I did with Checkerboard and the Break Me Down-verse.

This story would take place after Unravel Me, after a fair bit of character development lol. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!”

Song Inspo: “Damage” by H.E.R.

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, bit of dirty talk, fingering, edging, some angst, fluff and feels. The reader is a mixed race POC (Afro Latina), with textured hair.

The apartment was quiet, but not peaceful.

You were in the kitchen washing the Mt. Everest of dishes piled in the sink, partly because someone hadn’t rinsed off his own plate of carne guisada.

Ben had asked for beef for dinner yesterday, and you’d graciously delivered with your grandmother’s recipe for the stew. It was filled with chunks of tender, fall-off-your-fork beef, garlic, onions, carrots, and more—all marinated to perfection, if you said so yourself. You even added in some little yellow potatoes, both for taste and texture.

Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to put those meaty man muscles to good use, aside from shoveling three helpings into his mouth.

A bottomless pit and a freakin’ man-child, I swear to God, you inwardly groused as you scrubbed the ceramic a bit too hard with the rough side of the sponge. No matter how many times you asked, nicely, it seemed your boyfriend couldn’t manage to pull his weight around here.

Okay, you knew his job could be demanding, but so was yours.

What the hell is this, Maid in Manhattan? Newsflash: I’ve got shit to do too!

“And I cooked!” you muttered in indignation. That reminder propelled you to scrub a bit harder. The least he could do was clean the kitchen. Or take out the trash. Or toss the laundry into the washing machine once in a while. Like you really wanted to handle his dirty boxers all the damn time.

Did he have no shame? Couldn’t he do anything for you without you having to ask him three million times?

Es que él es bruto, mija, as your Dominican grandma would say about your grandpa, often while swiping a tired hand over her long braids. Es��como un animal con ropa.

Just then, you heard his heavy steps creaking on the wood floors in your bedroom. Today was his day off, so he was probably taking his sweet time rolling his ass out of bed.

Meanwhile, you were hustling to get the place at least decently clean before you got yourself together for work. The thought made you simmer as you continued to place dishes on the counter rack. Each one clacking to rest was satisfying, but it also ticked up your internal dial to a fine boil.

You heard him bang the bathroom door open and cringed internally, your teeth grinding. You’d reminded him three times already about the neighbors and the noise.

Sabes que, supe or not, I’m about to—

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Ben’s voice washed over you, deep and still a little rough with sleep as he stepped into the kitchen. His old man loafers slid against the floor with every step when he approached you from behind, and his heavy hands found a familiar resting place on the curve of your waist.

He swiped your slightly wild curls to the side and pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His voice, his touch, the brief scrape of his beard; it all caused a small shiver of delight up your spine.

“Hmm, you smell good. Good enough to eat.” And he teased you with the graze of his teeth, biting gently enough where your neck met your shoulder. You flinched with half a huff, trying not to smile.

Just like that, it took the edge off your irritation…a little. You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could…

“Hey,” he said, “since you’re already up and about in here, how about some breakf—”

Your spine tightened once again.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!” you snapped. You moved out of his arms to grab a hand towel to dry your hands with. They were all pruny from washing dishes.

“I’m already running late. Why? Because this place is a fucking mess, and the only one who seems to care is me!” you exclaimed. First, you gestured to the dishes now drying on the rack. “Hmm?”

You then opened up the lid to the full-to-bursting trashcan. “What do you call that, huh? You said you’d take this out last night. After I asked you twice. What, was I not speaking English? Did something get lost in translation, or are you already losing your hearing? Just let me know, ‘cause I can sure as hell crank up the volume for you!”

Ben raised a brow. You read his thoughts in his surly frown. You have some fucking audacity, talking to him like that, but it’s still early. He hasn’t even had his coffee, for Christ’s sake.

If he was more awake, no doubt he’d be barking back at you. Instead, he heaved a sigh, drew closer to you and shut the trashcan lid. At least there was one lid he knew how to close.

“All right, it’s just a little mess. No need to get fucking hysterical,” he said, trying to grasp your arm to placate you. You shrugged out of his hold and crossed your arms in anger.

“Ben, it’s not just a little mess. And what is this, 1945? I’m not hysterical!”

His lips twitched at a smirk, making you even angrier. But he’d caught enough smoke from you in the past to know he didn’t want it at 8:00 in the morning. He grasped your arms and rubbed them up and down, trying to sooth you.

“Okay, okay. It’s a little early for all this Latina temper, don’tcha think?” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your gaze snapped up at him with a glare.

Oooh, this man. He knew how to get you mad fucking tight.

Not in a good way.

Instead of exploding like Mount Fuji, you kept it all under your skin. You turned away from him and aimed to continue getting ready for work, but first, you took out a Greek yogurt from the fridge and wholly ignored him taking up space in the kitchen. You wouldn’t answer him when he called your name. In fact, you were going to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders—so cold he’d get hyperthermia through that invulnerable skin.

He waylaid your plans when he grabbed your hand, swinging you back into his arms. You gasped at the suddenness of it, looking up into his cocky, charming smile. You couldn’t stare too long at his green eyes, or the rest of his handsome, bearded face. Not when he knew exactly how to use it against you.

“Don’t think that’s gonna get you out of this,” you warned him. You set your yogurt on the kitchen counter and pushed at his chest, but it was no more effective than pushing at a mountain and expecting it to move.

His hands spanned your waist, his fingers beginning to press into your soft sides. He bowed his head, brushing his lips against your neck and the shell of your ear when he said, “Out of what, baby doll? Looks to me like we can still have a good morning.”

His voice once against trilled heat and tingles through your body, but you managed to lean back, holding the pads of your fingers to his lips.

“Hey, I’m not playing around here. If we’re gonna do this,” you pointed between him and yourself, “then let me make one thing really clear. I’m not la sirvienta around here, okay? I’m not your fucking maid. I’m your girl. Your partner. And since you live here now, I’m gonna need you to do your part.”

Ben almost rolled his eyes, but you grasped his chin. He frowned at you with furrowed brows. There was a time where he would've been inclined to grab your wrist and try to intimidate you with his temper. You saw it lying in wait behind his pursed lips and irritated stare, but you weren't afraid of him. Not anymore.

“Listen to me. I get that you haven’t lived like us commoners for most of your life, but this stuff is important,” you said. You took a deep breath, and you counted to three. You met him with a calmer gaze. “Ben, I love you.”

You let go of his chin and lowered your hand, letting it splay over his chest. He softened, ever so slightly, even though his frown remained.

“I love you,” you repeated, “but I don’t need a man-child.”

"Excuse me?" he did snap this time, his hold loosening from around your waist. "The fuck did you just say?"

You narrowed your eyes right back at him.

"You heard me," you said. "I want a man. A man who's going to be my rock when I need him. Can you do that for me, like I do for you? Are you gonna be my man, or do I need to claim you as a dependent on my taxes?"

His expression sharpened again at your thinly veiled accusation…but the longer he looked into your eyes, no longer angry, but earnest and imploring, the more he actually listened to what you were saying. His jaw worked for a moment in annoyance. You subtly softened him with your hands soothing up and down his arms, a slow back and forth over solid, warm muscle.

Eventually, he was able to curb his instinct to bark a callous reply. He nodded, expelling a breath through his nose.

“Fine,” he said.

Your brows rose. “Fine?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly.

You knew it was the closest you were going to get to an agreement, as well as an apology. You were still working on that last one, but dating this man was a work in progress, for both of you. With a sigh, you patted his arms that were slowly wrapping back around you.

“Okay, I’m really running late now,” you said.

“You should probably get a move on then,” Ben said.

Still, he didn’t release you. He stared down at you with an amused smile while you struggled against his hold. You uttered a laugh.

“Babe, I need to get to work.” You leaned over and spied the oven clock. “Oh, shit! it’s almost 8:30! If I’m not there by 9:00—”

“You sure you want to go now? Tense, body all tight,” he said, his voice deep with sensuous suggestion.

His lips neared yours, but he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. His lips veered away to brush against your cheek. He inhaled deeply as he moved, taking in the floral scent of your soap, mixed with the army of products you styled your hair with, and the faint imprint of your perfume from the night before. He skimmed down your neck and along the shell of your ear.

“Wouldn’t you rather I fuck all that tension right out of you?” he offered. “Leave you nice and warm and satisfied, have that pretty pussy coming hard on my cock.”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as his filthy mouth and the timbre of his voice struck a chord through your body, tinging warm arousal between your legs. Your fingers tightened on his strong arms, digging into the fabric of his loose robe. Ben took that as a wordless confirmation. He bent at the knees and grabbed you up by your plush thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck on instinct, with a small gasp.

But you recovered quickly. Taking his face into your hands, you met his lips roughly with yours in a devouring kiss. He set you down on the kitchen counter hard enough to make the clean dishes rattle. His hands were just as claiming as his mouth, squeezing your hips and thighs as he spread them open to make more room for himself.

While your tongue dueled with his, you shoved the robe off his shoulders, followed by his sleep shirt pooling to the floor. His hand slid under your top as well, and almost ripped it at the hem in his haste to get it up and over your head.

“Ow, ah-ow!” You giggled when the collar got caught on your hair. Ben’s breathy chuckle reached your ears. He was gentler in how he helped get the shirt off the rest of the way. Your mane of hair fell into your face, and you huffed.

Ben did you the favor of brushing the thick curls away from your eyes, tugging several strands behind your ears, even though most of them didn’t obey him. He framed your face with his big hands, and his thumbs swept along your skin, the rich complexion shining in the morning light filtering through the kitchen window.

There was more care in his touch now, his strength tempered just for you. Fond amusement colored his features. For as much shit as you gave him, you still gave him more of yourself; more of your trust, your patience...and all the rest of it. You gave him more than anyone that had come before you, and deep inside, he doubted anyone that might come after you.

You smiled up at him, a little wryly. You leaned up and met him for a gentler kiss. Your eyes fell closed at the feeling of him, and the spicy hint of his aftershave. It was a scent that often clung to his pillows. When he was gone on a mission for days on end, you wouldn’t admit to clinging to one of them to help you sleep, and make you feel safe.

“Mmm, you smell good,” you whispered. And it was true. He smelled like mint and spicy aftershave. You plied his lips with deeper kisses, licking into his mouth with a sensuous tongue, before you stole his words. “Good enough to eat.”

He uttered a groan deep in his throat. It satisfied you, enhancing the warm flood between your legs.

Fuck it. You were calling in sick today.

You drew him back into the pull of you, winding your arms around his neck and your fingers in his hair. It was getting long again, but you liked it. You liked something to hold onto, just as much as he did. Your nails brushed against his scalp, down the back of his neck, earning a hum of pleasure from him. You wound your legs tightly around his hips and invited the press of his hard cock against your throbbing core, even through your panties and pajama pants. A faltering groan caught in his chest.

“Needier that I thought this morning,” he remarked. His warm hands drifted down to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over dark, pebbled nipples. You sighed into his mouth in response.

You heard the cocky grin in his voice, but for once, you didn’t care. You did need him. You wanted him to fuck the stress and chaos out of you.

…Well, he’d caused most of it, but still. He was gonna damn well fix it.

And he aimed to do just that, with his hands sliding farther down your body with purpose, grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and roughly sliding them down, along with your panties. Your bare ass felt cold against the tile counter, but you didn’t have too much time to think about it with Ben’s thick fingers probing between the wet, glistening folds of your pussy. He soon found what he was searching for, circling firmly over your clit.

Your hips raised off the counter as you whimpered against his lips and ground yourself against his hand. You broke from his kiss to bury your face in his neck. Ben’s free hand grasped your hip and pulled you right to the edge of the counter.

There he held you down, his brows furrowing in concentration. His fingers sought your entrance and slipped inside you with ease. By now, he knew what angles would have you squirming, writhing, your body arching into him, while your inner walls clenched around his hand.

“Fuck. That’s right, baby doll. I’ve gotcha,” he said roughly, continuing to fuck your pussy with his fingers. His thumb rubbed against your clit between strokes.

The coil in your lower belly began to tighten, the delicious throbbing deep inside beginning to make your thighs shake. But just as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, Ben withdrew his fingers from your sopping channel.

You struggled to catch your breath in shock. Your head raised from Ben’s shoulder to glare at him. When your mouth opened to deliver an indignant protest, he silenced you with his mouth claiming yours. Your nails bit into his shoulder in retaliation, even though you knew it wouldn’t hurt him in the slightest. In fact, it only curved his lips into a smirk against yours.

You slapped him on the shoulder, immensely frustrated, but also laughing. “You’re such an assh—”

Before you could even finish cursing him, he gathered you up again and lifted you off the counter. He walked you over to the couch in the living room. He would’ve loved nothing better than to lay you out across the two-seater table in the kitchen, but he thought the shitty old wood might just give out under the strain of him fucking you. So the living room was a close second, and in this tiny-ass apartment, it was barely a few feet more to walk.

He laid you out underneath him on couch, and it groaned and squeaked under both of your weight. You squeaked too, if for a different reason. It had Ben smirking down at you. He freed himself from the confines of his pajama pants and coated his rock-hard arousal with the leftover wetness coating his hand.

“I approve of the scene change,” you said breathlessly, once again stroking his arms. Your fingers slipped over every dip and plain of muscle.

“Didn’t think you wanted to be fucked on some cold tile,” he said, even if the sentiment behind his words warmed you. You were pretty sure he didn’t used to care about that. At least, before he met you.

He grabbed your hips, lined himself up to your entrance, and his cock breached you smoothly, pushing into you until his hips fit snugly against yours.

“Oh, fuck,” you choked out, your thighs squeezing around his frame.

“Feel good, sweetheart? All fuckin' filled up,” Ben teased, a bit breathless himself. You were a tight fucking fit. He slid out of you experimentally, drawing a moan from your lips. You nodded.

“Yeah, baby. So good,” you freely admitted, panting all the while.

Ben’s hot gaze drew over you as he continued moving hard and fast inside you. He took in your every bare curve, the way hot breaths and sexy moans fell from your lips with every thrust, the way your hair fanned out underneath you and hung off the side of the sofa cushion, the way your hands still explored him and touched him, demanding, but still loving.

For that, it was all the more tantalizing against his skin, warming even the darkest places he tried not to show you.

And every drag of his cock inside you stretched your inner walls in the most delicious of ways. It wasn’t just that he was able to fill you to the fucking brim. He also just knew his way around a woman’s body. He knew you, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. Even quick and dirty on your couch, he made you feel brand new.

He was right, damn him.

The coil deep inside you snapped. Pleasure crested through you and made your inner walls squeeze him tight, fluttering and pulsing with warmth. You came hard on his cock, hard enough to milk his release shortly after for all he was worth.

His forearms fell to the cushion on either side of your head. You were basically being smothered, but for the moment you didn’t mind. You just held his sweat-slick body against yours while you both caught your breath, each of your heartbeats falling back into a steady rhythm.

He was always so damn warm. It was nice, considering how cold it was this winter, but the thought always made you a bit sad. It reminded you of the power housed in his chest, and every memory he caged there as well.

You laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder. In return, his lips found the side of your head and hesitated there.

“You’re not going to work,” he said. It was more an observation than anything else.

You laughed breathlessly and shook your head. “Nope.”

He nodded. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

You could get behind that. Your kitchen was finally clean, which meant your kitchen was closed until further notice.

“Shower first,” you stipulated.

You felt Ben’s smile grow against your dewy skin. “All right.”

You sighed, and he guided you to your feet along with him. You had a feeling “breakfast” was going to be lunch by the time you and Ben finally escaped this apartment.

AN: Lol hope you had fun with this one! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these two! 💚💚

Spanish Translations:

Es que él es bruto, mija. Es como un animal con ropa.

It’s that he’s stupid, my daughter. He's like an animal with clothes.

However, “bruto” can also mean brutish, crude, and/or like a beast, so it fits in more than one way. 😂

Sabes que, …

You know what, …

La sirvienta

The servant (or maid) (female)

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roseykat · 10 months ago

Text

TITLE: Play Night

SUMMARY: Things between Jisung and Hyunjin are heating up, and leading towards their group trip to Jeju, Jisung needs to clear a few things up with Chan; about you and him and the current secret bet in place that he unintentionally started.

TAGS: smut, handjobs, orgasms, kissing, making out, hickies, soft/fluff/slice of life moments, swearing, slight confrontation (nothing toxic), use of alcohol (Hyunjin is slightly drunk but what takes place after is consensual), some Harry Potter spoilers/references (sorry if you haven't watched HP)?

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

MASTERLIST - PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

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“Oh, now this - what about this one?”

Hyunjin hears Jisung’s voice from the aisle beside him where all the cold drinks are located. He himself had been scanning vigorously among the shelves for his favourite brand of ramen, only to come up short. They had been to four convenience stores prior and not one had what he was looking for. It landed them a trip further away than they had expected, but neither of them complained about wandering around far from where they were supposed to be.

After he straightens up and peeks his head over the snacks to see what Jisung was talking about, he shakes his head solemnly.

“No. No, that one's grape flavoured and it tastes like children’s medicine,” he says to him.

Jisung looks down at the purple can in his possession, “that’s oddly specific - oh, then what about orange-“

“Same thing.”

Jisung huffs and gives up, placing the can back where he found it in a disgruntled fashion, “you’re an easy man to please you know, but the minute it comes to food you’re so picky.”

Hyunjin strolls around to meet Jisung on the other side after filling his basket with snacks that had caught his eye and wanted to eat during their movie night, “drinks aren’t food.”

“Then what’s soup? A drink or a food?” He fires back.

“Not this again,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes and closes the fridge for Jisung who follows behind closely.

They’ve been debating about this for a while now which started off as a very contentious pillow talk topic that now crops up frequently. Of course, they wouldn’t be themselves if they didn’t have opposing opinions. Jisung, who thinks that soup is absolutely a drink, has been pushing that agenda ever since the night he tried to cook French onion soup to impress Hyunjin.

Only, it wasn’t that impressive, and was rather just a slurry of tasteless onion water and zero seasoning. In order to not upset his friend for trying his hardest, Hyunjin did his best to stomach the interesting creation and honestly hoped that he never tried again.

“It’s an important question!” Jisung begins to protest, ready with an army of rebuttals and arguments.

“Soup is a liquid food. That doesn’t mean to say it’s a drink, because you can eat soup. Plus, some soups have chunks of food in it too.”

“That’s just vegetable water or meat water.”

“Meat water,” Hyunjin repeats in a disgusted tone. “So you’re also saying that plain water is soup too?”

“Well, if you heat it up-“

“Okay,” Hyunjin interrupts as he dumps all their items onto the counter and takes out his wallet to pay. “Stop talking.”

“Make me,” he mouths and teases quietly so that the cashier couldn’t hear him. “If you stuff my mouth with something big then it might get me to stop talking.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, again.

Nearly every waking moment that he’s around Jisung, there’s always a guarantee that he’ll make Hyunjin’s eyes roll; whether it’s because of some weird shit that comes out of his mouth, or whether it’s giving him an orgasm. Whatever the reason, Hyunjin pretends to ignore him as he collects his goods, then heads out with his best friend at his side.

The entire commute back to his apartment, Jisung kept talking. On and on, and on about an assortment of subjects that Hyunjin had no interest in. At least not now. Not when all he wanted to do was go home, not speak, and just laze around with Jisung like he has been for the past few weeks. That thought seems to trigger a very sobering realisation that dawns on him as they ride the train back to his place.

As Hyunjin looks at the side of Jisung’s face who’s been rambling on about his opinion on the best types of pasta, he realises that they’ve been hooking up for the past few weeks. They kiss, make out, do other things, but not once have they had sex. Yet. They haven’t even talked about it, and yet, a part of Hyunjin had to wonder; was there any point in even talking let alone thinking about it if whatever is going on between them, isn’t going to last?

His eyebrows knit together. He doesn’t want to think about that. Hyunjin doesn’t know whatever feelings Jisung has right now, but the one thing he knows is that he likes the sense of comfort that hanging around him brings. What if he asks and disrupts what they have? What if he asks and ruins Jisung’s thoughts on him?

As those questions infiltrate his psyche, his head lowers and comes to rest on Jisung’s shoulder, eyelids closing softly, “wake me up when we get to our stop please.”

Jisung’s big brown eyes turn into the size of plates, a little bit taken aback that Hyunjin, a person who isn’t that huge on public displays of affection, is resting on him right now. Not to mention the privileged feeling that inflates Jisung whenever a person rests their head on his shoulder, which is very rare. It’s like some physical way of saying that Hyunjin trusts him, or feels comfortable around him at the very least.

He scans up and down the cart where no members of the public come into his view. Grateful for their absence, Jisung feels safe by reciprocating the same affections. So he places his hand on Hyunjin’s upper thigh, and he too rests his head against his friends’.

For the next five minutes, Jisung and Hyunjin would ride the train back to his place in peace. Neither of them spoke a word until they reached their stop. The pair of them hop up, Hyunjin stands and stretches his long limbs as he and his friend head inside the apartment complex.

Once they return to his place, Hyunjin prepares all the snacks for them on his coffee table, while Jisung gets the movie ready that they - he - wanted to watch.

“Harry Potter? Again?” Hyunjin groans, taking the plastic wrap off of the kimbap to share and setting it down on the surface once they’ve both sunken down onto the couch.

“What do you mean ‘again’?” Jisung shoots him a dirty look. He’s always been pretty serious about his Harry Potter, having watched the movies over a thousand times and read the books back to back. “This is the next part of the series, thank you.”

Hyunjin sighs and makes himself comfortable. He then heads to his fridge to grab a couple of bottles of soju and some shot glasses. Back at the convenience store, he meant to buy something non alcoholic, had he not been so picky about the flavours Jisung presented to him he wouldn’t be deciding on whether he should have alcohol or not. In saying that, it was nice to have a drink.

He strolls back to the coffee table with their final items and places them all down.

"Oh, yum," Jisung gasps and reaches for the bottle, unscrews the cap and starts pouring the clear liquid into both shot glasses already.

Hyunjin stares at him as he downs the alcohol in one smooth go, "alright then..."

Jisung holds up the other shot glass for Hyunjin, "your turn."

He takes it in hand, careful not to spill it on the rug beneath him - then again, it's seen a lot more messier liquids on it than alcohol.

"Yuck," Hyunjin retches after swallowing half of the contents in the glass.

"Come on, you know you like it," Jisung nudges him. "You know the saying; if you can handle cum, you can handle alcohol."

Hyunjin nearly sprays out the rest of the alcohol from his mouth as a muddle of amusement, concern, and curiosity wakes him up more than the semi-burn of the drink does, "and who said that exactly?"

"Me," he answers. "Hence why I can take both so well."

Like some of the time, Jisung wasn't wrong and summed it up with another shot before he picked up the remote to play the movie. He settles back comfortably while Hyunjin takes another shot of the soju.

He makes it through the first twenty minutes of the film, then reaches the part where Harry Potter suddenly gets selected for the Triwizard Tournament. By that point, Hyunjin was sure the alcohol had fully trickled into his bloodstream when he wasn't able to tell the difference between Mad Eye Moody and Hagrid.

Frames started to blend together and yet, he thought it was still a good idea to continue drinking to see if that would help. However, most good idea turn to bad ones. The alcohol began to play absolutely no part in trying to help him make sense of the plot and made him focus on other things rather than the movie.

It was safe to say that he grew steadily bored when it came to watching it. At the same time, he didn't have the heart in him to express his opinion to the person beside him who was so wrapped up in the universe on screen. Jisung's eyes were completely glued to the digital motions before him whereas Hyunjin's eyes were glued to him.

Boredom strikes him bad when he feels the need to lean over and make his long body comfortable on Jisung. Hyunjin's upper torso stretches over his friend's lap who doesn't pay too much mind to it. Jisung even hangs his arms over Hyunjin's abdomen while he watches the film contently.

It's not the type of physical contact he wants right now.

"Jisungie," he mutters into the couch.

"Hmm?"

"Can we do something else?" Hyunjin pleads rather than asks.

He never gets a response. The lounge continues to be filled with dialogue - something along the lines of Ron Weasly now having a go at Harry for being inducted into the tournament and not telling him. Hyunjin's had enough of it and for whatever reason he feels like, he slides off of Jisung's lap. Half of his body slumps onto the ground while the other half remains somewhat on the couch.

"What are you doing?" he snorts, grabbing onto Hyunjin's hands and trying to hoist him back up.

He awkwardly anchors his legs around Jisung's body in an effort to help pull himself up as well but ends up knocking his head on the edge of the coffee table. With a delayed reaction, Hyunjin winces and then laughs as he tries to rub his own head even while Jisung is still trying to save him from falling off completely.

"Here just - just stop moving so I can help," he leans back and uses all his arm strength to move what is practically dead weight to him.

Hyunjin puts in zero effort to help and instead becomes a giggling mess the second he's actually able to get back into Jisung's lap. When he does, his long limp limbs wrap themselves around the man beneath him. He hides his face in the crook of his neck, the sudden whiff of Jisung's skin almost makes him dizzy, making his mood do a complete one eighty degree turn.

It creates immense difficulty in trying to swallow the urge to plant a kiss over the soft area, earning a very quiet yet distinct hum from Jisung. Hyunjin repeats the same action, longer this time and in different spots that his tongue can swipe over. The grip Hyunjin barely knew was there on his hips, twitched in place. As if Jisung's nails are trying to dig into Hyunjin's flesh had he not worn clothes.

"Hey," Jisung alerts him. “Can’t watch the movie if all you’re trying to do is get on my dick- ah…”

Hyunjin’s mouth shuts his right up from one sharp suck into his skin. His tongue flattens over the fresh red plum mark. The sight of it alone makes Hyunjin want to decorate them over every inch of Jisung’s body, similar to the style of how he would paint a canvas - which he does. Over as much skin as Jisung lets him when he moves his head to allow Hyunjin to cover more skin.

“Y-You’ll…you’ll get me hard,” he warns, now unable to concentrate on the film.

Hyunjin pulls away from his neck, giving him a rest from the myriad of hickies he’ll have to worry about later, and looks him down in the eye, “that’s sort of the point.”

Their mouths draw together like magnets, like they’ve been doing for weeks. Every day they find their lips on the others or some body party of theirs. Jisung gets to relish and dawn in the softness of Hyunjin’s lips, letting him slip past further to explore his mouth. His needs not only start to show through in his pants, but in his breathing and frantic pace of trying to feel Jisung that he almost can’t keep up with him.

So he decides that he needs to contain him a bit, bring him down a few notches to reminds him that he’s not in charge - at least for now.

With that, Jisung wraps his hand right around Hyunjin’s waist and manoeuvres him onto his back. The abrupt shift in control makes him act up almost instantly. Hyunjin is grabbing at Jisung’s shirt trying pull his body back down to his, but his muscles are weak and tired from drinking that it makes it too easy for Jisung to straddle his hips and pin his hands to the side of his head.

“Look what you’ve done to yourself,” he tells Hyunjin right in his ear while he rolls his ass down over the dick that's hardening underneath him. "Gonna be fucking begging when I'm through with you."

At that point, the pair had gone beyond the fact of not completing a full movie night. With the way that Jisung continues to pin Hyunjin back and exchange the manifold of hickies across the planes of his throat and neck. If anyone walked into the apartment, they would’ve thought vampires truly existed with the way Jisung’s mouth was latched onto his best friend’s skin.

“T-The movie,” Hyunjin stammers hopelessly with his words. “Jisung…the movie…”

Jisung lets out a sinister chuckle as he pushes himself back up to take off his shirt and tosses it somewhere around the lounge, "fuck the movie. You started this. This is what you wanted, isn't it? To rile me up and now you've gone all shy on me."

Hyunjin doesn't listen. His first instinct is to reach out and grab Jisung’s waist, to caress his hand freely for a few moments before gliding down and grasping the flesh over his hips. The slight sting in it makes him buck his hips forward and over Hyunjin’s clothed cock, making him groan lowly. He could cum easily like this - so easily and has done.

Every position they get into to practically dry hump each other, he always imagines that this is what it would be like if Jisung was riding his throbbing cock. To cum inside him and watch his face contorts the way that it does whenever Hyunjin makes him orgasm.

That thought sparks a wire in his brain, causing him to suddenly jerk his hips up and into Jisung. He smirks down at him, soaking up the state of the man beneath him. The hickies, red and wet kissable lips, dozy eyes that slowly blink up at him…

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Jisung mutters in exasperation like he's never seen Hyunjin's body before. “Just wanna f-”

Blaring on the coffee table next to all of the opened snacks was Jisung’s phone, he quickly bends over to the side to reach for it in urgency while still trying to straddle. Hyunjin twists his body carefully with Jisung still on top, picking the remote off the floor that had fallen after being pinned back. He pauses the movie for a moment to let Jisung answer his call.

A small weight sinks in his stomach as he speaks in shock, “it’s Chan."

"M-Maybe you should answer it," Hyunjin tries his best to talk over the exponential rate of how much he is turned on right now.

“Hello?” He answers.

“Jisung! Do you not answer your texts? I sent about six just before!”

He pulls his phone away from his ear and checks his notifications. His friend was right, Jisung had in fact missed his messages. But not on purpose of course. If he hadn't been so busy provoking Hyunjin whose hands started sliding up Jisung’s thighs, dangerously close to his tented crotch, he would've seen the texts.

Hyunjin's fingertips delicately trace over where Jisung's cock begins to harden. His eyebrows furrow immediately as Chan continues speaking on the other end of the line about how he’s still surprised that Jisung didn’t answer him right away.

“You’re always on your phone, I thought you might’ve been quick to respond,” says Chan.

“Oh, yeah not this time,” he responds truthfully, to some degree. “I’ve been watching Harry Potter all evening and-“

The words ready to leave Jisung's mouth die before they make it out as Hyunjin mischievously, and very clearly, starts to palm Jisung’s hard length over his pants. It didn’t take him that long to start leaking from his tip, creating a very visible dark patch over his shorts.

“…and-“

Hyunjin then reaches into the slot of the material, past his boxers and frees his cock. For a few moments, he takes away his hand just to admire how Jisung looks right now. The fact that he tried to finish what Hyunjin started, only to have the tables turned on him again. He flushes with embarrassment at the fact that without Hyunjin’s grasp around his length, his dick was able to stand tall on its own; so needy and desperate for touch.

“And what?” Chan’s voice suddenly startles him out of his situation.

“And I just lost track of time, that’s all,” Jisung continues as calmly as he can.

“No worries. I haven’t watched Harry Potter in years. I think the last might’ve been Prisoner of Azkaban? No, Goblet of Fire? It was the one where…”

Chan’s voice drifts out of Jisung’s mind despite the fact that he’s right in his ear on the other line. His face contorts at the sudden pleasure he receives as Hyunjin takes hold of his neglected cock once more. His eyes dart sharply down to his own length and the large hand which begins to slowly tug.

“…he gets chosen for the tournament when he really didn’t put his name into the cup…”

Jisung brings a shaky hand to his mouth, covering it immediately so as to mask and muffle something that could end up as a future regret. Hyunjin knows all too well what sort of sounds can come out of that mouth of his too, for it has reverberated around the walls of his apartment, stifled into his pillows, caught in the back of his throat which usually serves as a path for Hyunjin’s cum these days.

He’s heard it all before.

For Jisung to keep a lid on all of those possibilities is a smart move, especially if they want to uphold the secrecy of their situation.

“…and I’m pretty sure it’s the one where Cedric dies.”

“Y-Yeah,” he responds shakily. “That’s the one we - I’m watching at the moment.”

“Maybe I should rewatch the first two,” Chan suggests to himself. “It’s the only series I can actually watch and understand without it being too complicated. I tried watching Lord of the Rings before but it’s too…”

Once more, Chan’s voice becomes a distant sound as Jisung tries to stop himself from bucking his hips into Hyunjin’s hand. But it’s not possible. He can’t just ignore the fact that he’s been horny since Hyunjin made him all hot and bothered, and now he’s built up to maximum capacity where his body craves release.

“So what time suits you?” Chan asks randomly.

“Time for what?” Jisung responds back in confusion, his mind blending together like mush when Hyunjin has gotten into a steady pace.”

“To hang out tomorrow!”

“Oh, right! Ah - um, lunchtime? Twelve…” He suggests, his hips still rutting.

“Alright sounds good. I’ll see you there okay?” Chan asks.

“I’m cumming - I mean, I-I’ll come! I’ll be coming - going there,” Jisung stammers terribly with his words. “F-Fuck sorry, just…I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chan laughs on the other end of the line, “see you then.”

Jisung has never hung up faster, the phone toppling out of his possession as he rocks his hips into Hyunjin’s grasp. It also gave him the ability to rut his ass against Hyunjin’s hard length below him. Then within a split second, the lid that Jisung was trying so hard to contain over what his body needed to do, came off.

“Fuck, gonna cum, m’cumming!” He cries out.

Hyunjin grins, and does not dare let up on his hand twisting and gliding on the length currently in his power, “I heard you the first time. How humiliating would that have been for you if Chan realised you were getting a handjob. Too bad he can't hear you whining so pathetically-“

Air hitches in Jisung’s throat, and for a few seconds too long Hyunjin looks into his eyes and sees tears welling up. A terrible, cold sinking feeling expands in his stomach, making him realise that he just said something awful to Jisung.

“W-Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t-

It was too late. Loud moans rupture violently through Jisung’s chest - ones that Hyunjin knows his neighbours are familiar with by now because by no means is Han Jisung quiet. He will let Hyunjin know how he’s making his body feel now explodes from immense pressure.

His rutting against Hyunjin’s cock becomes staggered as a result of trying to chase his orgasm. Jisung clutches onto Hyunjin’s shirt, the fabric balling up tightly along with his fist. He can’t stop, he doesn’t want to stop, until eventually that buildup releases erratically in flows of white that spill over his tip and dribble down Hyunjin’s hand. Jisung had never cum that hard from a handjob before.

He finishes gasping for air when he starts coming down, slowly rocking his ass over Hyunjin’s crotch to ease himself off the euphoria. Beneath him is a different story.

Hyunjin was mortified for making him cry, so shocked that he was frozen and couldn’t take his hand off of Jisung’s dick. But that didn’t matter. Jisung had the intention of finishing what he started, to feel so good that all his problems melted away.

Hyunjin sits up immediately, so close to Jisung’s face as he needs to check in with his friend, “are you okay? I’m so, so sorry, I don’t even know why I said that. It just...it just came out of my mouth.”

He wipes his eyes after a couple of tears fell down his face in the process of dry riding Hyunjin. Part of what just happened makes him laugh breathily and nods, “yeah. I’m okay.”

“Jisung, I’m really, really sorry,” he quickly says and means it, trying to look him in the eye.

“No, oh my god don’t be sorry,” he assures him. “I’m fine, seriously.”

“Then…then why are you crying?” Hyunjin asks the million dollar question, still acting out of horror.

He gives a lazy shrug, “I dunno how to explain it properly, but I like that kind of talk. It just…yeah. I’m not too sure. I suppose I teared up because I haven't actually cum that hard before.”

“I…didn’t know you were into…that,” Hyunjin doesn’t know how to reply to that type of statement, now that he just found out his friend likes being humiliated. Out of all things Jisung would be into, it had to be that.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know,” he replies, leaning over to the coffee table just a bit to pick up the box of tissues to clean Hyunjin’s hand.

“W-What did Chan want?” He asks even though he doesn't want to stray away from the topic to make sure his friend is still okay.

Jisung slides off of his body and in between his legs rather awkwardly. From this stance, it’s easy to see the large tent in Hyunjin’s pants that he was grinding on as he made himself comfortable. He smooths the palm of his hand over Hyunjin's hard length and slowly back down. In doing so forces a couple of strained sighs out of his mouth.

“Wants to hang out tomorrow,” he answers, reaching into Hyunjin’s shorts to feel his hard cock. The same cock that keeps him coming back, that makes him feel heated and irrational.

In Jisung’s opinion, anyone would be lucky to have someone like his friend in front of him. Even though they haven’t had sex, he knows how Hyunjin fucks, having seen the way he made you cum weeks ago - it only makes Jisung wonder what it would be like to actually cum around Hyunjin’s cock.

It’s what he wants, needs in fact whenever they’re together.

Hyunjin bites his lip and throws his head down onto the couch, “y-you going to?”

“Course I am,” Jisung replies, thumbing over the dark pink tip that leaks clear glossy precum. “Need to ask him about Y/N and what the situation is there.”

A dreadful ball of weight pummels Hyunjin from behind when he hears your name in the same sentence as ‘Chan’. Not to mention, as Jisung said, your ‘situation’ with him currently which Hyunjin doesn’t want to process. He likes being oblivious to the fact that Chan is sleeping with you. That he gets to fill you up, that he just gets to see you. Whether Jisung was telling the truth or not about you and him sleeping together, he acts as if you’re not to save himself from the reality of it.

“D-Do you really need to?” Hyunjin asks hesitantly, fumbling terribly with his words as Jisung lowers his head down and licks one long stripe from the base of Hyunjin’s cock, right to his dark pink tip.

“Yes,” he confirms, but doesn’t truly tell him why for reasons far too similar to his friend here.

After giving his answer, Jisung sinks his mouth onto Hyunjin’s cock, just half of it to tease him. Bobbing his head a couple of times causes Hyunjin’s to grab the side of the couch while the other flies to land on top of Jisung’s head.

“What if…if he doesn’t say anything?” He questions breathlessly.

Jisung pops back up, and leans over Hyunjin’s abdomen to ask him in his face, his question bears some perspective to the situation, “do you want me to blow you, or not?”

Hyunjin uses the hand that’s not ready to brace his body by the side of the couch and tucks a long lock of Jisung’s dark brown hair behind his ear, “yes.”

“Then please shut your mouth and let me,” he demands.

It wasn’t hard for Hyunjin’s eyelids to shut and squeeze together. Receiving a blowjob from Jisung always feels like he’s had his soul sucked out of him; he doesn’t know where he learned it, but isn’t complaining either because it put Hyunjin to sleep ten minutes after they cleaned themselves up. By the time he and Jisung crawled into bed together, he had forgotten having the conversation with Jisung about you and Chan. Yet, only to be reminded of it the following day when Jisung woke up at half past eleven in the morning.

He was scheduled to meet Chan at one of his favourite lunch spots nearby and was in no mood to meet him. Being the morning person he is not, Jisung found himself struggling immensely to get out of bed and Hyunjin’s long arms that were encasing him.

Although he didn’t feel like leaving, he thought it would be best to just go as it had been a while since he saw Chan last. More importantly, he needed to confront him about what’s going on. Mainly for his own piece of mind.

He remembers something in his stomach sinking when he read that text on your phone. Despite the intense shock he felt when he discovered that you and Chan were hooking up, he wasn’t able to diverge from his own feelings. Something which he struggles to get across and might depending on the outcome of the lunch with one of the people in question.

Jisung steps out of the shower with a towel around his waist as he goes to sit on the end of the bed to open some of the drawers to his dresser. He pulls out a cream coloured jersey, some underwear, and a pair of sweatpants.

The fact that he needs to borrow so many articles of clothing is just another potent reminder that he should be packing and taking an overnight bag whenever he goes to hang out with Hyunjin. Nine times out of ten, Jisung will always say he’s only coming over for the afternoon then ends up staying for more than one day at a time.

The sheets ruffle beneath Hyunjin’s body as he stirs himself awake. He sits up, bed head on full view and eyes barely open, “what are you doing?”

“Borrowing some clothes,” Jisung answers trying to ignore how hot his morning voice sounds. “I’ll bring you back some food to compensate.”

“You said that last time,” he grumbles sleepily. “I’m also down four of my favourite jerseys because of you.”

Jisung throws on the material over his top half before crawling his way on the mattress to Hyunjin. He kisses him unexpectedly yet expectedly on the lips.

“Just go back to sleep,” he whispers. “I’ll see you after.”

With his confirmation, Hyunjin’s top half flops back against the mattress before Jisung pulls the white duvet back over his body, tucking him in. He had no trouble falling back asleep when Jisung lightly brushes some strands of his hair out of his face. However, without the distraction of him touching Hyunjin, Jisung couldn’t help but feel nervous.

He already knew that you and Chan were sleeping together. That text long affirmed that. Yet for how long and what for remained to be a sickening twist of fearful questions lugging Jisung’s stomach down. He didn’t really want to hear the answers from Chan if he can even stomach that conversation. He didn’t want to hear ‘yes we’ve been fucking’ or the ‘yeah, it’s true’ answers.

In saying that, Jisung has a trait of bottomless curiosity. That itch to find out for his own personal gain was going to make or break him. At that, he dons on the matching coloured sweats, grabs his phone and wallet, and then heads out of Hyunjin’s apartment.

After a train ride away, it doesn’t take long for Jisung to arrive, and apparently not for Chan either, who was already seated, waiting for his friend. An assortment of dishes had already been brought to the table, making Jisung realise how hungry he was since breakfast was no longer.

“How the fuck did you get here so fast, you live on the other side of the city,” Jisung exclaims to him from behind as he approaches.

“Hey. I couldn’t wait any longer because I was hungry,” Chan complains in a whiny tone. “Came here earlier to order, so I couldn’t wait.”

“Good, that makes things easier because I didn’t know what I was going to get anyway,” he replies and sits down in the booth opposite Chan. He hasn't changed much. Then again, it hasn't been too long since he's seen him last. “Been busy?”

He shakes his head, “you have no idea.”

“Thought you might’ve been,” Jisung responds, eyeing him intently to see if he gives off even the subtlest signs of a lie. “Haven’t seen you in almost a month, what’ve you been up to?”

Chan shrugs, “work and tutoring some of these students at the University.”

Jisung gives a firm nod, believing him and understanding how tiresome that must be to help teach students. It’s not until he pauses and realises that Uni semesters haven’t started yet. Even summer semester students are on break. He could’ve called him out on his bullshit now to see what answers he would get, but for the sake of wanting to find out other information, he keeps that to himself.

“Shit, sounds tough,” Jisung sympathises with him, or at least tries to if he was lying.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Same old. Working - you’re still coming to Jeju right?” He asks on a different subject.

“Yeah, of course. I took leave for it,” Chan answers as a puzzled look then befalls on his face. For a moment, his eyes narrow at Jisung, or rather his chest, trying to decipher what’s wrong with the picture he’s currently seeing.

“What?” He asks, trying to follow his gaze.

“You and Hyunjin have the same jersey,” Chan points out, realising what the flaw was.

“Oh, I know, that loser keeps copying everything I wear,” Jisung quickly plays it cool because unbeknownst to Chan, it is in fact Hyunjin’s jersey.

“Why are you wearing a scarf by the way?” Jisung tries to direct the attention away from himself

He hadn’t noticed the black item wrapped warmly around Chan’s neck until he began to panic whilst digging up something else to switch topics. The heat Jisung feels like he’s already being dragged under was starting to make him feel uneasy.

“The same reason you’re wearing a jersey on a thirty degree day,” Chan fires back just as fast but more nonchalantly to just about make Jisung sweat.

It forces him to wonder what on earth this reason is that his friend is talking about, and why he’s being so cryptic.

His face twists into confusion, mildly surprised when he realises Chan is trying to clock him for something that he doesn’t even know about or what for. Then again, it’s Chan. When is he not this observant?

“And what reason is that?” He responds with an accusatory tone.

Chan doesn’t answer, not directly. He only lifts his chin up slightly and points to his own throat, confusing the hell out of Jisung as to what he means. When it’s clear that the message can’t cross his mind, Chan rolls his eyes, and reaches into his pockets to take out his phone. He pulls up the selfie camera mode and hands it to Jisung to look at.

Apart from seeing his own reflection, he can see something else; a few splotches of dark, reddish marks littered all over his throat. At first he thought he had a rash, but wasn’t too sure what he was looking at. However, upon closer inspection, he moves the camera a bit closer to his throat and takes a photo on Chan’s phone to see it better.

After his quick analysis, Jisung knew instantly what they were. More importantly, who it came from. Hickies, and from none other than the only person he’s been messing around with, Hyunjin. Jisung didn’t even bother covering them up.

He hastily hands Chan’s phone back after deleting the photo, “so what?”

“Suppose you forgot you had them, judging by your reaction,” Chan guessed correctly, completely stumping Jisung who’s nearly lifting his own body off his seat as he tries to come up with an argument.

“Well…I suppose you didn’t know that I know you and Y/N are fucking which explains the scarf too but here we are!” He blurts out before he even has time to think about stopping the words from coming out of his mouth.

Chan’s hand stalls over the pot of stew while Jisung’s lips are pursed together. All the colour in his face has drained, almost making him feel lightheaded that he just said that out loud. In saying that, this is exactly the topic he wanted to discuss - you and Chan. He just wasn’t expecting the conversation to meander in such a way that nearly exposes himself and threw him way off the track of ever raising the subject.

“And what makes you think that?” Chan resumes ladling some of the hot stew into his bowl of rice.

Jisung knows that you can’t unring a bell so makes the split decision and decides to come clean, “I was using Y/N’s phone for something, and that’s where I saw a text message from you, hinting that you guys were sleeping together.”

“Ah,” Chan recalls immediately at the sudden confession. “From that little truth or dare game you, her and Hyunjin played?”

Jisung’s jaw unhinges, staring across the table towards his friend who seems to be a search engine for the topic of ‘everything Jisung has done lately.’ Nearly every minute that passes, Chan slaps him with a new fact that his friend wasn’t expecting him to know.

“You - but, how did- did Hyunjin-“

Chan’s already shaking his head before Jisung can muster a proper sentence, “Hyunjin never said a word. In fact he hasn’t been replying to my texts so I haven’t heard from him.”

“Then…then Y/N?”

“Well it couldn’t have been you or anyone else that was there.”

Jisung isn’t angry. He’s just shocked that he keeps getting one upped. Chan finding out that Jisung had a threesome with two of his best friends - one of them who he’s been fucking for some time now too - was far more of a juicy topic than just you and Chan seeing each other casually, which Jisung still doesn’t know the full details of.

“Said she had never cum like that in her entire life,” Chan adds, burying Jisung another meter or so deeper into this hole of new scandalous information.

His body freezes over. Suddenly, it’s not thirty degrees and everything feels cold. Jisung doesn’t ever really hear Chan talk about his sex life. Even when he was in a relationship with his ex, each of his friends tried to dissect as many details about it as they could. But they were never successful. That was a result of keeping things as private and low key as possible.

Nevertheless, Chan’s crude and very straightforward words had knocked Jisung right off his feet. The fact that you had told him what must’ve been very clear details of that night at Hyunjin’s was a sign that it still lingered on your brain. Part of his ego secretly swells with joy because of it.

“Then I felt like I needed to outdo you guys after that,” he adds.

“What do you mean?” Jisung questions with a tone of an impending doom that looms over him.

Chan smiles sweetly, memories stirring of that night in particular he had with you. It had to be one of the best times by far to him, “you know what I mean.”

Jisung’s skin stings with scorching hot jealousy; he knows exactly what Chan means. The fact of the matter is that he can’t believe he’s saying these types of things to him. Then again, there’s only one reason why Jisung would be so affected by it and he didn’t want to display that in front of Chan without figuring out what it means. But whatever it is that’s tugging at the organ beating hard and fast in his chest, makes him furious.

“Alright then,” he replies unfazed as he possibly could, swallowing the tough pill before realising there was one other thing he wanted to mention. “Suppose you guys are still seeing each other.”

Chan looks Jisung right in his eyes as he slowly retracts the spoon out of his mouth, “maybe.”

“So yes then.”

“What does it mean to you?” He tests him, almost sadistically.

“It means nothing to me,” Jisung answers rather bitterly and nastily, his entire aura switching up before he finds a new tether to lure the spotlight away from himself. “Just the fact that I told the others about you two, and they made a bet.”

Chan looks up, “a bet?”

“None of them believed me, so they made a bet to see whether you guys were or not even though I said so.”

If he didn’t have food in his mouth, Chan would’ve laughed, instead a disgruntled chuckle came out along with a couple of specs of his rice, “course they wouldn’t! Why would they believe that the two polar opposite people would be screwing behind everyone’s back?”

“You're not mad?” Jisung checks to be sure.

He shakes his head, “course not, dunno if Y/N won’t be though. She said she likes keeping things pretty private-“

“Clearly not if she told you she had a threesome,” Jisung cuts him off at that point.

“Well, there’s some exceptions to that,” Chan shrugs, finishing off his bowl of rice. “I don’t know if this means anything to you but, she wouldn’t shut up about sleeping with you and Hyunjin. She told me every single detail like for instance, when you and Hyunjin made out-“

The tongs fall out of Jisung’s tight grip and clatter onto the table. He brings his hands up to his eyes, covering his entire face to hide whatever embarrassing feelings that start to simmer on the surface. However, Chan didn’t seem to care and continued on with his points to prove.

“-how she liked it when you went down on her, how you watched Hyunjin fuck her - I told you what I meant about the details, right? Anyway,” he says. “She was raving about it. And yet, when she and I started seeing each other casually, she said that she didn’t want me to tell anyone else. That I needed to take what we have to the grave.”

Jisung removes his hands away from his face and looks down at his own food, unsure if he can stomach any more of it with the way the conversation has been handled. The more he talks and thinks about you, the more he feels like he’s being filled up with this bad gloomy feeling. He has to wonder if Chan is just being plain cruel to him by dumping all of his thoughts and information onto him.

He has to wonder, would it have been better to stay oblivious rather than being teased with snippets of what you’ve been saying to Chan these past few weeks. Hearing about how much you enjoyed yourself with him and Hyunjin yet haven’t directly spoken to them since that night.

“What are you saying?” Jisung questions, tired with the bullshit that’s starting to spike in their discussion.

“The fact that she wants to keep our…activities a secret from people and rather them not find out about us, yet is the first to speak highly of what you, her and Hyunjin did, means something more than you think.”

More than he thinks? Jisung can’t understand what that could’ve possibly meant. He sits there, bewildered and stumped. Unsure of what else to say.

“Right,” he responds.

Chan watches him warily, trying to gauge his behaviour as he decides to change the topic, “so, what’s on the table for this bet?”

Jisung quickly pries himself away from his messy mind and answers, “losers have to buy a days’ worth of food when we go to Jeju.”

Chan nods, impressed as he reaches for more meat on the grill and loads it into his bowl, “even less of a reason to be mad. Looks like I’ll be eating for free either way.”

"Yeah, looks like it."

The span of Jisung's vocabulary seemed to fail him. That and the fact that he didn't really want to talk anymore. Yes, it was good to see one of his best friends, but the circumstances that developed throughout their lengthy conversation made him wish he stayed in bed with Hyunjin just the extra bit longer so he would have to cancel lunch.

He managed to finish off small bowls of food to not make himself appear out of character. One whiff of anything remotely aberrant on Jisung's behalf, and Chan would hold him hostage in the restaurant until he tells him what's wrong. Despite that, Chan noticed something off anyway.

He saw the way Jisung's face fell when he confirmed that he was sleeping with you. He saw how his shoulders drooped and then picked up when he mentioned that you told him about the night at Hyunjin's. He saw how defensive and sceptical Jisung became whenever he would just simply mention you.

He saw that Jisung was hiding something.

When both friends had finished enjoying their meals, they were greeted with a downpour of rain that would have them seeking refuge under the veranda of the restaurant once they were outside. Just before they bid farewell to each other, Chan quickly turns to Jisung and calls out.

“It’s okay if you like her,” he says out of nowhere. “Y/N and I are not what you might think we are and we made it clear to each other that we never will be. There’s nothing between her and I, just so you know.”

Jisung stares at him, not showing any emotions on his face even though deep down, his brain and insides are whirring with emotions he can't even fathom, “I don’t like her like that.”

Chan laughs at him, unfazed with the sudden tension that seems to be slicing through them, “keep telling yourself that. See you next week.”

Through the deluge of rain and shadows from the dark, dense clouds above, Chan runs off in the opposite direction to where he needs to head home. Jisung stands there defeated and shocked that Chan is onto his tail that he likes you. He knew that heading into meeting up with him meant that the truth was going to come out one way or the other. Suppose it was just not on his terms.

It stirs many thoughts as he throws his hood up and ducks out into the rain to head to the train station and back to the safety of Hyunjin.

When he returns, Jisung keys in the passcode to unlock the door to the apartment, and is smothered with a waft of a sweet decadent scent. Standing in the kitchen, Hyunjin was at the stove flipping over what looked to be pancakes which suddenly reminded Jisung-

“Fuck, oh my god. The food, I forgot to even order it,” Jisung groans when he closes the door behind him.

Hyunjin turns the element dial on low and spins around to lean on the counter, away from the stove tops, "it's okay. I felt like something sweet anyway."

Jisung sighs. It felt right to be back with Hyunjin once more even though he had only been out for a couple of hours. In saying that, his conversation with Chan was good but draining. It’s not that he doesn’t like him for telling him the truth, there’s absolutely no doubt about that. Chan is and will always be his friend.

There is no emotional connection between you and him and that’s all that matters to Jisung. However, it’s just the truth in itself that he has an issue with - you hooking up with Chan every now and then that is. It makes him feel uneasy and almost makes him feel like he’s doing something immoral by just sitting back and watching it happen.

The reality stings where he doesn’t like it so pushes himself from the edge of the bench and walks into Hyunjin’s body to retreat from his thoughts. Slightly taken aback but not oblivious to the strange display of emotions Jisung is presenting, Hyunjin sets the spatula down beside him and hugs his friend back.

“You okay?” He questions, concern dripping all over his face.

Jisung nods his head on his chest, “yeah. Just socialising, now I’m tired.”

It wasn’t a lie, but not the truth either. Regardless, Hyunjin takes his word for it without thinking twice about it. He had completely forgotten why Jisung had gone to see Chan for in the first place.

“Wanna nap together?”

“Didn’t you just wake up?” Jisung pulls one arm away from Hyunjin’s body while the other still rests there so that he can rub his eyes.

"Well," Hyunjin looks away from him. "That's beside the point. Just...missed you is all too.”

"Cute," he grumbles, ignoring what the weight of those words truly means. "I should pack for next week though because knowing me, I'll leave everything until the last minute."

Hyunjin lets out a long sigh. He hasn't even thought about putting a suitcase together yet either, "true. I should probably start packing as well."

"Okay then let’s both get ready," Jisung looks up at him before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Hyunjin's lips, slowly pulling away and says quietly; "see you in Jeju."

Hyunjin responds, look at him, “see you in Jeju.”

I strictly forbid and do not permit ANYONE or any user on any platform to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr or to any other online platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin x jisung #rosiewritesskz #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut

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jeonqkooks · 2 years ago

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (06)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, kissing (omg k1ss1ng omg WHO IS IT ??? 😦), tbh this is the only warning i wanted u guys to read cuz 6 chapters in and we finally get sum action i feel like that's a win lmaooooo, jimin being Real as fook, unbeta'd cuz uhm i'm a godless menace who should be conked on the head, once again we are severely lacking jk in his own fic lol i'm owning up to this 🤗 BUT! this is probably the last chapter where jk feels like a side character lol apologies my dudes

rating: PG-13

word count: 8.1k (honestly i wrote obs6 just so i could get to obs7 lmao that's why it's a lil bit shorter)

note: my apologies if this sucks. you are legally allowed to stone me if you hate it. but i hope you don't hate it. but if you do hate it don't tell me just stone me lol 🤐 why am i so unhinged with this update

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Exile - Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)

The picture is fucking terrible.

“Jimin, what the fuck,” you grumble, staring at the huge framed photo on the wall, taken on the day of the opening party. You, Taehyung and Jimin are gathered on the floor of the dance studio, with boxes of takeout neatly sitting between the three of you. “I look like ass.”

Jimin barely glances at the wall, just continues to stuff his face with the dumplings that you ordered. “You look fine,” he says absentmindedly, mouth full, continuing to munch on the food despite your little dilemma.

“Bitch, I have my eyes closed.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I look like I’m in the middle of a sneeze.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, squinting at your photographed self again. The more you look at it, the more irritated you become.

Realistically, you know nobody would pay enough attention to notice the immortalized visual of your fluttering eyes, and you yourself wouldn’t care about it that much. Maybe you would even laugh in good spirits and poke fun at yourself as you often do. Make a meme of it for the group chat.

“What’s the big deal?” Jimin asks.

You shrug petulantly. “I told you. I look like ass.”

Yeah, true, but it’s also more than that.

It’s the fact that the person standing next to you looks so good that you must voice your grievances. It’s the fact that he looks so much more than just good.

The guys stop eating to look at you. You wonder just how much of what you’re feeling is written all over your face. Regardless, they don’t comment on it.

One of them clears his throat, shaking the whole thing off.

“Did you tell Yoongi anything yet?” Jimin asks.

You poke at a lone dumpling with your chopsticks, popping the ‘p’ when you say, “Nope.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jimin scolds you. “It’s been three weeks. He doesn’t want to push you for an answer but the man has got to be suffering.”

You flick a piece of spring onion garnish at him. It lands on his hair, a single bit of green sitting among golden locks. “I don’t know what to tell him!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jimin shakes the onion piece from his head and chucks it back at you. “Obviously you say yes!”

You exhale through your nose, then take a bite of your dumpling. You nibble on the fried dough, stretching out the silence, delaying your response.

It hasn’t even started, and it might not even start. But you’re already thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Yoong is your friend, first and foremost. He’s a good friend, and you would be crushed if you lose that relationship.

What if he hurts you, or you hurt him?

Sometimes, people are meant to hurt each other even if they don’t mean to.

Yoongi hasn’t seen your pieces in all of their jagged glory, how they’re only meant to reflect the light but never be healed by it. He’s still blissfully unaware of the ugly thoughts that have a home inside your head, and you’re afraid if you let him in, he’d realize it’s a place he doesn’t want to be. It’s hard to love a broken thing. You wouldn’t want to love you either.

Maybe this is the real reason that’s been holding you back all this time. Maybe it isn’t Jungkook - though he certainly isn’t absolved - but it’s you, and how you just don’t know if you’re someone who deserves to love and be loved. You’ve felt inadequate more times than you can count. You’ve been left before. Who’s to say it isn’t going to happen again?

You’re well aware that this is a bad way to look at things, but can anyone really blame you? You still have a heart, and despite how fragmented it is, you still want to protect it.

“I know that look,” Taehyung says, parting your fog and pulling you back to him. “You’re overthinking again.”

You roll your eyes. He knows you so well, but does he have to call you out every time?

“I’m not overthinking. I’m regular thinking.”

“Right. And to normal people, that’s overthinking.”

“It’s just…” you wonder out loud, gaze on the floor. “What if I go all in, and Yoongi sees me for who I am and thinks that I’m just an utterly sad person who can’t be loved? That I’m too much work when he’s got literally thousands of people throwing themselves at him left and right?”

Taehyung stares at the side of your face as he bites the inside of his cheek. His tongue soothes the spot, his jaw clenching once. “He’s not going to think that.”

“You don’t know that,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging down.

“You’re not unlovable just because one person didn’t love you right. So stop it with that bullshit, because I love you,” he says, voice serious. Even Jimin stays silent as he listens to his friend, his eyes flickering between you and Taehyung. “And Jimin loves you. Hobi loves you.”

You merely blink, because you hate it when he’s right. In all fairness, you understand. This is the same thing you would tell him if the situation were reversed.

You deflect anyway. That’s what you do best.

“You don’t count,” you tell him with an unserious scoff, your tone starkly contrasting his. “You’re my family.”

You taste something bitter as soon as the words leave your mouth. You should know better than anyone, that just because someone’s your family, doesn’t mean they have to love you.

Taehyung reenacts the blinking guy meme before chuckling, holding a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Ouch.”

“You two are getting nowhere,” Jimin interjects. “Just call Yoongi.”

“And say what?” you ask.

“I told you. Say yes. God, you’re so dense sometimes.”

You reach over to jab a finger into his side, making him hiss and shuffle away from you.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble.

“Well, somebody’s gotta say it.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised for a few seconds before he lowers them and grows more stern. “Come on, Y/N. You know you don’t want to say no, or else you would’ve turned him down already. You said you wanted to start dating again. Yoongi is practically on his knees offering himself to you. What are you waiting for?”

There’s a voice in the back of your head - tiny, barely audible - that whispers, Who are you waiting for?

“Fuck it, I’ll say it,” Jimin continues. “It sucks balls that Jungkook hurt you, but you can’t let that affect you for the rest of your life. Not everyone is going to hurt you. You’re not even giving Yoongi a chance just because someone else did you dirty. If you keep always thinking about the worst possible outcome and banking on it to happen, then you’re never going to get anywhere. I love you, dude, but y’know.”

You stare at Jimin with your mouth slightly open, stunned into silence. When you glance at Taehyung, he’s surprised too, though probably not as much as you.

After a couple of minutes, you say, “Wow.”

“Tough love. I have my moments.” Jimin shrugs casually, like he didn’t just drop a truth bomb on your head. “But also…” He picks his phone up and types something in. Your phone instantly buzzes with a notification.

“Open the link I just sent you,” he says.

“You are literally sitting across from me.”

“Just open it! I made you a playlist.”

“Aw, Jimin, that’s so cute,” you coo softly, reaching over to pinch his cheek before he swats your hand away. You unlock your phone to see what Jimin made you, because that is some friendship hall of fame stuff right there. However, when the link redirects you to your music app, your smile immediately drops.

Aaand he’s back.

You stare at the screen for a good ten seconds to try and find your bearings, flabbergasted at something that is quite honestly very on-brand for Jimin if you think about it. “You made me a playlist called Dick Appointment with an eggplant emoji and the tongue out emoji and it’s mostly just Yoongi’s songs. Even the playlist cover is from his Valentino shoot.”

“So you can get it on while Agust D plays in the background!” Jimin grins, and you could just smack it right off his face.

“Park Jimin, who raised you? You are vile.”

“Validate me,” he demands. Oh, you would smack him. You really would. “I spent hours making that playlist.”

“It’s literally just Yoongi’s songs.”

“Yeah, but I had to curate an experience. I can’t just dump every song into a playlist and call it a day. I gotta make sure they fit the vibe.”

“I literally just heard the most profound shit from you not even two minutes ago.” Then, you turn to Taehyung with an exasperated look on your face. “Why would you let him do this?”

He just waves a dismissive hand in the air, like Jimin isn’t even there. “I’m not responsible for the stupid shit he does.”

Jimin crosses his arms in front of his chest, both eyebrows raised dramatically as he gapes at you. “You both suck. From now on, you can make your own sexytime playlists.”

“Nobody even asked you to do that!” you cry.

“Yeah! Which makes me an even more considerate friend,” he says. “Ugh. Whatever. Go call Yoongi.”

“You want me to do it now?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll wuss out when you’re alone. You can stay and put him on speakers for us to hear or you can go out into the hallway. Come on, chop chop.”

“No, I have to text him first,” you protest. “What if he’s busy?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, but allows you this after a moment. “Fine.”

You take out your phone from your bag that’s lying carelessly on the floor to draft a quick message to Yoongi.

[12:59] You: got a minute?

The three of you go back to the food, abandoning the previous topic of conversation in favor of something lighter and meaningless or else you would go crazy waiting for Yoongi’s reply. After you’re finished, you and Taehyung are in the middle of putting away all the empty containers and soda cans when your phone buzzes again.

You go to grab it to look at the notification, hands already starting to sweat.

[13:17] Yoongi: for you? always :)

You turn back to the guys to find them already looking at you. Jimin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively while Taehyung just stares at you.

“Time to get your whore on,” Jimin says in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.

You turn to Taehyung for help. “He’s bullying me.”

“Ignore him,” your best friend tells you gently. “Go call Yoongi.”

When you take your phone out into the hallway, you make sure to go to the far end of it, near the main entrance so the two dorks can’t eavesdrop. You’ll tell them everything once you come back anyway, but you don’t want them within earshot while you’re in the middle of it.

Yoongi picks up your call on the third ring. In the background, your ear picks up on some chatter.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you. Then he holds the phone away from his ear to tell someone that he’d be back in a bit.

“Hey,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Just at a fitting. I have an ad campaign to film next week,” he answers. “Did you call just to get my whereabouts?”

“No, I… If you’re busy, we can talk later.”

“We’re still in the middle of lunch break anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

You briefly regret not taking a minute to psych yourself up before. You suck in a deep breath, which eases your nerves for just a second, long enough for you to say, “Yes.”

You’re met with brief silence from the other end of the line, which only makes your palms more clammy than they already are.

“Yes?” he echoes confusedly. “Yes what?”

“Yes,” you say again. “To…”

The silence commences once more, and lasts longer than you think you can handle. Then, you hear him stop in the middle of a breath.

“Oh.” A subsequent chuckle in response to the lightbulb that must’ve been switched on. “To that?”

“...Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

It feels like you two have invented a secret language that nobody else could understand. A single syllable, bouncing off the metaphorical walls of your conversation. Two idiots sharing the same brain cell.

“Yes?” he continues to prod, but at this point, you know he’s just teasing you.

“Yes! God, stop making me say it again. We sound so stupid.”

He graces you with a hearty laugh that makes you fight back a sheepish smile, even though there isn’t a single soul in sight to witness it. Yoongi makes you so fucking shy for some reason. Your nerves dissolve momentarily as you lean against the wall, your index finger running along a crack in the paint.

“Hmm, I wish you would’ve told me this in person,” he says, his voice soft.

“I can’t handle you in person. You’d tease me so much.”

“Because you’re adorable when you’re flustered, that’s why.” He waits a second before adding, “You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“You’re being overly confident, Min.”

“Maybe,” he responds easily. “But am I right, though?”

“Shut up.”

When Yoongi said he would cook for you, you almost gasped.

“You can cook?” you had asked. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation or anything, but you suppose you’d never given much thought to the hidden sides of him.

“Y/N,” he laughed then. “I’m a great cook. I could probably make a pretty decent career out of being a chef.”

“I didn’t know that,” you told him sheepishly.

“There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me.” It sounded like a promise. Like I’m willing to show you me. Like I’m willing to take the first step if you’d be in this with me too. “Does that sound like a good idea? You, me, dinner at your place?”

“My place?”

“Yeah, so you’ll be more comfortable. I’ll come over.”

This one simple gesture shouldn’t affect you that much, but it does. You appreciate that he’s considerate even when it comes to the littlest things. You swell with gratitude for the thought he puts into this, into putting your comfort first. It made you feel a bit better about yourself, calmed your stormy sea of thoughts enough to rationally accept the fact that he genuinely cares.

Regardless, it doesn’t stop you from spending most of the day obsessively cleaning your apartment. Even - and especially - your bedroom, although you’re sure that is not where the night will end. Every surface is spotless, not a single speck of dust to be found. It’s like the goddamn Pope is coming over for a house inspection.

You haven’t had a first date in… fuck, how long has it been now? Nine years? It’s almost been a fucking decade already? You honestly can’t tell if that’s embarrassing or not.

But you remember the last time.

College, freshman year, with Jungkook. His yellow piece of sticky note that he slipped inside your favorite book. His adorably flustered expression when he timidly stood in front of you in the campus library. The way he was trying so hard to be confident and charming throughout your first dinner together. How he ran back to you after saying goodnight.

No.

You shut your eyes and shake your head, warding off any Jungkook-related thoughts before they could send you spiraling. You can’t reminisce about your ex while waiting for someone else to show. Yoongi deserves better, and that’s what you’re trying to be.

You’re not exactly sure how nice you should dress tonight. Yoongi told you that you could be clad in sweats for all he cares. If the dinner didn’t hold any connotation other than platonic, maybe you would’ve really donned your loungewear like you were merely having Taehyung and Jimin over for pizza.

You’d completely forgotten all the things people worry about in the early stages of dating, when you want to impress the other person but don’t want them to think that you’re trying too hard.

Calm down. It’s just Yoongi. He’s seen you ugly crying with mascara running down your face, for fuck’s sake.

In the end, you opt for a sweater and a comfortable skirt. Casual.

Yoongi rings your doorbell about ten minutes later than when he said he’d be there, holding a bag full of groceries. The visual alone makes you bite back a giggle and subsequently fail. You believe this is what people would call husband material.

You take his coat and guide him into your home. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you say shyly, gesturing around as you lead him into the kitchen to show him where everything is. Why are you acting like this? This isn’t you. If Taehyung or Jimin could see you right now, they would probably laugh. Hoseok would straight up be rolling on the floor.

You barely breathe as you watch Yoongi take in his surroundings. It’s intimidating, even though you know it’s just Yoongi.

“I actually don’t know what I expected, but I like it. It’s very you,” he comments, smiling.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s cute,” he says, throwing you a wink as he leans against your kitchen counter.

You avert your gaze immediately. “Oh… Thanks,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “So, uhm, what are you making? How can I help?”

“Just sit down. I got this.”

“Yoongi,” you say his name in protest. “I want to h-”

“I’m trying to romance you here. Let me do that,” Yoongi says, his smile turning lopsided as he starts emptying the contents of his grocery bags. Even though his tone is light, the gentle reminder of tonight being a date shuts you right up.

You take a seat at your dining table, though you can’t really sit still. As Yoongi starts working, you absentmindedly talk to each other about your day, about his campaign, about Seokjin’s album. At one point, you get up to creep over to his side when the smell of whatever he’s making becomes more prominent. You try to peek at the pot, curious, but he just shoos you away by bumping his hip against yours.

When you give him a small pout, you pretend not to notice the way his eyes dart to your mouth. You retract yourself from his personal space, choosing a spot on the other side of your kitchen island, staring at his back as he works.

You watch him expertly navigate your kitchen like he’s been here before. When he’s finished, he makes you sit down, not even letting you help bring the food to the table.

“What is it?” you ask once he’s settled in his seat, everything plated in front of you.

“Kimchi jjigae,” he says, a proud look on his face. “My mom’s recipe.”

It’s endearing, and it makes you smile.

For the most part, Yoongi lets you eat in peace, though there’s still a couple of flirtatious comments here and there. Every time it comes, you bite down on your bottom lip to try and snap out of that daze before you cough, as if that would help tone down the colors adorning your face. There’s no verbal response from you, and it seems like Yoongi doesn’t expect one either, because he just chuckles. You think he must notice the palpable nervousness that radiates off of you, but it’s not like you’re doing a very good job at hiding it.

You’re taking baby steps and he knows it. The fact that you even agreed to this at all is already major progress.

When you’re done eating, he clears the table while he asks you to open the expensive bottle of wine that he brought over. It does wonders for your nerves.

Three glasses in and you’re visibly more relaxed as you both sit on the couch in the living room, facing each other. There’s a small smile on your face that you can’t help, maybe it’s some of your inhibitions wearing off as a side effect of the alcohol.

You glance around the room, and you take in the sight of Yoongi sitting here, this close to you. He feels bigger than your small world can handle.

“You know,” you start. If the wine didn’t make you more mellow, you probably wouldn’t be saying this. “There are thousands of people thirsting over you every day.”

Yoongi tilts his head, swirling the wine in his glass. “Really?”

“Don’t you look at the internet? I personally know two girls from college who are on the Yoongi Marry Me train,” you say matter-of-factly, like you aren’t borderline tipsy in front of him.

You aren’t an avid Twitter user, but every time you check the damn bird app, Yoongi is almost always trending. In every single one of his posts on social media, there is always an influx of comments asking him to marry them. Not only that, when word first got out about you collaborating with Agust D back then, people you knew - both old friends and acquaintances - practically bombarded your messages to see if it was true, and to ask if you could get them an autograph.

Yoongi stretches out his legs until they brush against yours. Your stomach flips even though it’s only your legs that are barely touching.

“The what train?”

“You seriously don’t know about the Yoongi Marry Me movement? Look it up. It’s a whole thing. People would do anything to, I don’t know, hold your hand or something.”

With an amused look on his face, he holds your gaze. “Would you?”

“What?”

“Would you do all of that just to hold my hand? Because you don’t have to, y’know.” He brings the wine glass to his lips, partially hiding his face from you, and you don’t know whether he’s doing it for your sake or his in preparation for the words he speaks next. “But I would do it to hold yours.”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning bright, your stomach twisted in knots. It’s the wine, but it’s definitely the effect of his words too. You stare at Yoongi in surprise; no matter how many times he openly flirts with you, he’d still elicit the same reaction from you. It’ll be hard to get used to it. He just always seems to know what to say to make you blush like a schoolgirl, which you resent but you can’t deny the sparks of excitement that make your fingertips tingle.

Yoongi is smooth, and it’s even worse - or is it better? You haven’t decided yet - that you know he means every word he says. It makes you feel… wanted. It’s good to know that he’s being genuine, and to know that Yoongi isn’t the type of person who would ever pull the rug out from under you.

Yoongi is… stable.

You suppose, after everything you’ve been through, that stability is what you need. It’s good for you.

You try to swerve around the thoughts, to avoid them at all costs, but deep down you know now that they’re glaringly true.

That love is stored in two bags of groceries, so filled to the brim that some onions almost fall out. Love is stored in every flick of his wrist holding a knife, slicing the sharp blade across your cutboard. Clean cuts, yet he’s never this way when it comes to you.

Love is stored in a fond smile and adoring eyes when he sees how you cradle your expensive dishware like it’s a newborn baby before you set it carefully on the table.

Love is stored in a Yoongi-shaped silhouette, dancing over your countertops with practiced precision in every movement, filling in the cracks of your home. The love in him is reserved because you, like the moon when it crescents, still have a ways to go.

When he stands at your door an hour later with his coat in hand, you wait for him to speak first.

“Performance review?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“I… liked it. It was nice,” you say honestly. But you still feel the wine in your system, and it makes you bold enough to tease him for a change. “But it was my first date in a while, so it’s hard to tell if that opinion is objective.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Do I qualify for a second date then?”

You hum in thought, making him wait on purpose. “Yeah, I guess,” you say, feigning nonchalance, which earns you a hearty laugh.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks, hopeful.

“Don’t know yet,” you answer, though you’ll probably end up going home and catching up on a kdrama. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Just in the morning. I have a shoot in the afternoon.” He shifts to lean his weight on his other leg, tipping his body closer to you. “But I can pick you up after.”

“Yeah? And where would we go?”

Yoongi shrugs in earnest. “Just drive around? Grab a bite?” he thinks out loud, tilting his head slightly to one side for emphasis. “I could take you to that popup store you mentioned.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You would stand in line with me to buy a novelty mug?”

“Pretty sure we wouldn’t have to stand in line if I gave them a call,” he says, grinning. “One of the perks of the job, y’know.”

“Must be nice,” you laugh, then shift to lean just a tad closer to him. You look at him for a brief moment before you agree, “Yeah, okay.”

You and Yoongi stand there at the door, each of you on either side of the threshold. This would be an appropriate moment for a kiss, you think. That explosive first kiss, if this were a movie. Exhilaration courses through your veins. You feel it from your head to the tips of your fingers to your toes. The feeling is rendering you a mere teenager again.

It’s exciting because it’s new. You have the entire book ahead of you, waiting to be written. At this point, anything could happen. You’re a blank canvas waiting to be drawn, a blank page hoping to be written.

Wait.

Back up.

A kiss?

A kiss?!

With Yoongi?

You’re thinking about kissing Yoongi?!

Fuck.

Fuck?!

It’s the wine.

Your thoughts knock against each other like bumper cars, echoing loudly in your brain that it almost gives you a headache.

You stay still as Yoongi leans down, your heart racing while your brain just keyboard-smashes. You can’t tell if you want him to kiss you or not, but when he only presses his lips against your cheek, you feel two emotions at once.

The first is disappointment, the second is relief. They press down on you with almost equal force, and you’re not really sure which one weighs heavier.

Baby steps.

You blink when he pulls away, and he just smiles fondly at you as if he can read your mind.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You watch him until he’s in the elevator, until the doors close and the lift descends. Even when you know that he must be on his way to his car and that someone else is making their way up, you stand there, with your hand loosely wrapped around the door handle, your breathing slightly erratic as you process what just happened.

Déjà vu?

It’s oddly reminiscent.

You’ve been here before.

Part of you thinks he’ll burst through the elevator doors, or rush up the stairs if the lift is occupied, and come back to grab your face and kiss you senseless.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook knows you’re probably waiting for Yoongi.

He’s seen Yoongi pick you up after work almost daily over the past couple of weeks, and it’s driving him insane. Even on the days that Yoongi comes to the studio during the day, the guy is all over you, so much so that he doesn’t even bother being a nuisance to Jungkook anymore, which just makes him a thousand times more insufferable.

Something is happening.

He can’t weasel shit out of Jimin anymore because Jimin has been especially tight-lipped after accidentally spilling Yoongi’s confession to you.

Because that should be him in Yoongi’s place. Or should he say his place, and Yoongi is just a placeholder. An imposter.

Because it used to be him that you smiled shyly at.

Jimin’s words have been plaguing his every waking hour since he was forced to hear them. If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too. It feels like he’s rewinding all of your memories, retracing them with cautious fingers only to find that his every footstep is being erased to make room for someone else.

An abandoned dirt road, while you walk down a flower-filled path holding someone else’s hand.

Like you’re stamping him out.

Like he was never there at all.

Not only are you denying him a chance, you’re giving it to someone else. When he tries to move at someone else’s pace, all he gets is left behind.

It’s not about Yoongi; or at least, it’s not just about him. Yoongi doesn’t even really matter to Jungkook in this equation. It’s about what Yoongi represents. An idea of a person that Jungkook can never be.

A bigger life. A stable present and an even brighter future. Yoongi is everything better than him.

And that’s his own problem to deal with, not anyone else’s. At the end of the day, no one has to live with his insecurities but himself.

But still, he can’t help it. Whenever he sees you with Yoongi, his eyes burn. Please don’t let him take my place, he wishes every time, you’re the only good thing about me.

It’s jealousy, sure, of course it’s there.

But what if you realize what everyone else already knows? That Yoongi is better in every single way. That Yoongi is the person who really deserves you.

What if you start to see Jungkook the way he sees himself?

You hating him - despising him with every cell in your body - is a thousand times better than you deeming him unworthy.

“I talked to Jihyo,” he speaks up suddenly, when it’s only the two of you.

“Okay,” you answer, never taking your eyes off the page in front of you. You must have circled the words daisy a thousand times already, wracking your brain for anything that rhymes. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this, but good for you.”

At this point, you wonder if you should just avoid the studio for the time being. It’s empty here again. You resent Seokjin for drowning in concept photos. You resent Namjoon for leaving Jungkook here to fend for himself, but it’s only fair, because Namjoon was only supposed to give him a helping hand, not take over the whole thing. You even resent Yoongi a bit, for not being here right this second.

“I talked to her,” Jungkook says again, ignoring your sass. “She won’t give you a hard time anymore.”

This makes you look at him. You never asked him to do this. You never asked him to do anything. In fact, you have only ever implored him to sit still and leave things alone.

“She never gave me a hard time,” you say. Sure, you don’t appreciate being given the death glare first thing in the morning, but it’s not something that you can’t ignore. It doesn’t actively affect you, and the only reason Jihyo does it is because of Jungkook.

Because he broke things off with her?

Because he gives you more attention?

Ugh. Attention?

This is the stupidest and most childish thing you have had to think about in ages.

“You said she acts differently toward you.”

“And aren’t you the reason why?” you counter. “Because you two were fucking?”

Jungkook visibly winces at your words, like he did when you mentioned it the first time in the break room. You don’t mean to be snarky; you’re just stating the facts. They were hooking up.

You don’t harbor any ill will toward any of his past lovers, and that includes Jihyo. You know she doesn’t have anything against you either, at least not on a personal level because you don’t know each other well enough to do so. She’s just someone you pass by every day on your way to the elevator.

“So why did things end?” you ask just for the sake of it, since he was the one who brought it up. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

He hesitates for a moment. “She wanted something more and it wasn’t the same for me.”

It’s stupid that the tiny voice in the back of your head resurfaces, hoping that you were the reason why he couldn’t pursue things with another woman.

Jihyo isn’t you, that much is clear. You never asked for anything more from him, not once from start to finish. He was always the first one to pour love into you. It’s arguable which one of you loved the other more - maybe you loved each other equally, just in different ways - but it was a fact that Jungkook always took the initiative. He made the first move so you wouldn’t have to. He gave you the option to match his affection, and never have to worry about being left out to dry.

He took initiative, right until the very end.

You bite your bottom lip, then give him a curt response, “Okay.”

Your phone vibrates with a text from Yoongi but you don’t open it just yet. You look at Jungkook, who only looks back at you. His lips part slightly as he searches for the right words, or any word at all. It’s like you’re asking him to navigate a minefield when all he has to do is be honest. Even if he told you that he fell out of love with you, it wouldn’t be that bad. You would be hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t blame him. You would understand. It would be a reason.

Silence fills the room, save for the continuous tapping of your pen on paper.

He says your name, pleading. “I’m trying here.”

At Jimin’s party, Jungkook said you were someone important to him. You don’t doubt that he meant it, and that’s what infuriates you the most. You’re important, but he keeps running circles around you and making your head spin. You’re important, but everything he’s done makes you think that you’re the opposite. You’re important, just not important enough to get an explanation.

You know he’s genuine about everything he says, but that’s not enough. You can’t sustain yourself on just his words alone.

It’s another cycle of the same conversation, running over and over and over again. He’s reaching out but he’s holding back. You’re still getting nowhere. You don’t know how many times he has to make you ask this, only to not give you any clarity at all.

If there is a trait of Jungkook’s that you both love and hate at the same time, it is that he doesn’t know when to quit.

He texts you every day even when you don’t reply - one for good morning, and one for goodnight. He gets you a chai latte every day, which doesn’t do shit for your concentration because there’s not enough caffeine in it. He gets the door for you whenever you go into the same room together. He hounds your every waking moment. He makes sure that he’s the first thing you see when you wake up, and the last thought that crosses your mind before you go to sleep.

I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.

You suppose this is him, showing up again. In a lot of ways, it’s selfish. But it’s an effort too. Now your phone is full of meaningless messages that remain unread.

You barely glance at him. It’s routine at this point. He tries in ways that you don’t bother acknowledging anymore, because you figured that the best course of action is to let him wear himself out. When he has had enough of it, when he deems his efforts to be enough to absolve his guilt, he’ll stop. He has to.

But at what point does it stop?

At what point will you stop wanting to give in to him? Your mind rages wars with itself every time you feel his eyes on you, and you have to kill the urge to not turn your head and look at him too. At what point will you stop wanting to go to him and let him in again? At what point will you stop unconsciously making him a priority?

All of this, you supposed, is to say: Do you still love him?

You know that if you sit down and get to the root of it, you’ll find an answer you don’t like. Even in this moment, you want him to tell you just a fraction of the truth, because that would probably be enough to reel you back in.

Your own heart claws at your chest but this is how it has to be for a while. All you can do is take it one day at a time, gently nudge your heart in one direction like a child that needs to be goaded, until he doesn’t live on the forefront of your mind anymore.

Until someone else does.

“No, you’re not.” You stand up then, closing your notebook with more force than necessary. “If you’re really trying, then I wouldn’t still be wondering why I wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

Even then, you’re still hoping that he’d say something else. But when you’re only met with silence, the anticipated disappointment in you bubbles, boiling. His reluctance to clue you in makes it easier for you to decide.

There's someone else who's willing to give you things that you don't even need to ask for.

In your mind, it's clear who you should choose.

Jungkook clenches his teeth, holding his breath as he watches you shove your things into your bag. “Are you going home?” he asks after a minute.

You could say yes and let the conversation die a swift and simple death. But for some reason, you choose to kill it violently. You bite the inside of your cheek before you tell him, “I don’t know. Yoongi’s picking me up.”

The chagrinned look that takes over his features for a split second is one that you immediately catch. Maybe it’s because he wants to make sure you know how he feels about this, or maybe you still have a way of reading him somehow. Regardless of what his face tells you, he doesn’t prod any further.

Your phone vibrates on the table, the sound ten times more thunderous amidst the silence that’s befallen the both of you. You don’t need to check the screen to know who’s calling, and neither does he. When you leave, the sound of your fading footsteps ricochets off the walls. It shoots right through him.

He hears every word of that conversation ringing in his ears then. He recalls that afternoon’s sunset; it was the most beautiful sunset he saw that year, despite the sun overhead mocking him with every magnificent glint of light. He sees the look on your face when his words finally register in your mind, the Oh moment when you understood what he was saying, when the smile you wore sunk helplessly to the floor because even though you knew that love had an expiration date, you hoped your love would be the exception.

That memory fades, only to be replaced by something much worse. He sits there with Jimin’s words, echoing in his mind, reverberating around the room.

Technically, you and Yoongi haven’t been on a second date. You think.

You’ve seen him almost every night since the dinner, when he picks you up at the studio. Sometimes, you two just drive around. Sometimes, you sit by the river in the cold, eating hot ramen cups and giggling over nothing. Sometimes, he just takes you straight to your home if he has a packed schedule the next day.

These days, you see Yoongi even more than you see Taehyung. Even though he hasn’t explicitly implied that any of these outings is a date, you know you aren’t hanging out as just friends anymore.

It feels good to be wanted. The feeling is reinforced tenfold because it’s been so long that it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time in a new body, as a different person.

But even after all of that, you two can still go back to being friends like nothing ever happened. Because in a way, maybe nothing did happen. Maybe things have always been like this between you, the only difference is now you’re noticing the meaning behind his words and glances.

You two can still go back, because technically, no line has been crossed.

But tonight, something feels different. It’s colder, but Yoongi keeps you warm with all the looks he’s been giving you all night.

It feels like you’re both toeing that line right now.

You know that once you cross it, things can’t revert back to the way they were anymore.

You know that it will happen eventually, because Yoongi isn’t doing this just to half-ass it. He won’t back out, and he has made it crystal clear from the start.

Usually, this is the part where he tells you goodnight and you have to pretend not to freak out when he kisses you on the cheek in goodbye.

He takes a step closer, you take no step back.

“You know what I’m about to do, right?”

You do. You could say you’re even hopeful.

“I might have an idea…”

“Okay,” he says easily. He takes your waist in his hands and brings you closer. The way the corner of his mouth tugs upward tells you that he’s pleased, that you know what’s about to come and you’re letting it happen. Still, he asks, “Can I?”

You nod. That glowing sensation washes over you in waves.

“Words, princess,” he reminds you.

Your hands land on the lapel of his coat. “Yes, you can.”

He chuckles, and squeezes you a little tighter.

Then it happens.

The line you clumsily drew in the sand has been erased.

Yoongi is kissing you.

You’re kissing him back.

He’s soft and warm and he holds you like you’re delicate. His sincerity, you can feel it in his kiss, and it’s only a fraction of it. Regardless, there is still life that blooms this winter. Inside of you, small and fragile, but it’s there.

You sigh into his mouth, feeling completely limbless if not for him holding your body upright. One of his arms wounds itself tighter around your middle while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek more easily. Yoongi tilts his head further to one side to deepen the kiss. You feel something in his kiss that you have never heard in his words, something soft and pleading. Wanting but still contained. Out of fear that you might run away, perhaps? You can’t blame him though. You are a bit of a flight risk.

The wind dances past like a nosy bystander, pressing you further into him like it wants you to be more sure in the way you move, in how much of yourself you’re willing to give to him. Instead, the cold just makes you shiver.

When you break away, his hand on your face moves to hold the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t look half as flushed as you think you do, though his cheeks are slightly rosy.

Through a thin veil of clouds, the moon still shines down on his profile.

The chill in the air, the mesmerizing view of moonlight dancing across his features, and most of all, the way you’re still lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being wanted.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you up,” he says, after you stay silent for a beat too long, hooded eyes basking in the warmth of a heart chasing your own. You want to want him. You do want him, but there’s still something missing. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but for now, you try not to dwell on it too much. Just let it be. Maybe in time, that void will inevitably fill.

Yoongi holds your hand through the lobby and on the whole way up even if neither of you says anything, just shy glances in the elevator and bashful half-hidden smiles. You don’t invite him in once you get to your door - because an invite now insinuates something that you just aren’t ready for - but he does kiss you again. If the kiss you shared downstairs is a proper goodnight kiss, then this one means see you later and doesn’t last half as long, but it makes you tingle just the same.

He pulls back, only to dive in again, and again, and again, until one chaste kiss turns into five and you have to push him away with a giggle so you can breathe.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes still set on your mouth. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Yoongi,” you say, a little breathily, like oxygen hasn’t sufficiently made its way into your lungs since downstairs.

He rests his forehead against yours. “You’ve never said my name like that before,” he sighs.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you again.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth and pretend to consider this even though you know you would like to be kissed again. “Maybe I do,” you say after a beat, bravely. “Just one more.”

He gives you your final kiss of the night then, one that lasts a second longer than the others, like he’s trying to memorize how you taste.

You head in once Yoongi is out of sight. You lean your body against the door the second you snap the lock shut. You touch your lips lightly, reliving those moments again even though they happened mere seconds ago. You’re buzzing with excitement like a schoolgirl, every feeling coursing through your body all at once.

You’re familiar with this. It’s the stage right before every love song you listen to suddenly reminds you of that one person.

You go through your regular evening routine with a pep in your step, thanks to a certain person tonight. You take off your carefully applied makeup and take a nice, hot shower. You think the heat would help melt away the high that you’re riding - like you’ve had too much coffee to drink and now your senses are beyond heightened - but it doesn’t. Once you’re fresh and comfortable in your PJs, you still feel that jittery feeling seeping through your pores, keeping you awake. There’s a message from Yoongi that tells you he has made it home safely.

It’s still early, and you’re far too restless to go to bed. You decided to brew yourself a mug of chamomile tea, even though you don’t even like chamomile and you can’t remember why you even have it, but they say that apparently chamomile is good for sleep. You decide to take the mug into the living room to sort through your mini mountain of mail that should’ve been dealt with days ago.

Sitting underneath that pile of junk mail and letters addressed to the previous tenant even though you’ve lived here for nearly two years, is a cream-colored card addressed to you. The material feels smooth under your fingertips, like velvet if that’s even possible. Inside, there are two names - one you recognize and another you don’t - typed out in a fancy calligraphy font and encircled by pretty flowers, all pinks and whites and romantic.

The saccharine sensation associated with the thought of Yoongi dissipates instantly. Instead, your mind blanks, only to buzz to life again momentarily with a newfound sinking feeling dragging you down.

You suddenly realize that Jungkook hasn’t crossed your mind once tonight. Not until now. That crestfallen look in his eyes from the other night appears in your mind again, clear as day.

You are, quite literally, holding someone’s declaration of love and yet, it’s not joy that you feel, having been asked to join them on their special day.

You never thought you would see Jungkook’s family again - even though you always adored his parents and you felt that they loved you too - let alone receive an invitation to his brother’s wedding.

remember when y'all said u wanted a wedding?? well u didn't say whose wedding 😌

713 notes · View notes

napakmahal · 10 months ago

Note

Anon because I feel like I’m about to say smth cringe lol but how about a fic with a (possibly Psych major) reader that’s got a holistic view of the world with Tadashi? Would be interesting to see what that information brings concerning Baymax’s plan of care and how a relationship would form with Tadashi like dat ya dig

Idk mostly inspired by Natalia Lafourcade’s song María La Curandera (it’s in Spanish, you’ll have to search up the translation if you’re curious!) also growing up in an immigrant household with care alternatives to things maybe a doctor would not take seriously/ not being able to connect with a patient due to beliefs and or language barriers.

Can I just you’re actually so real for this. This is NOT cringe pookie okay. First of all, love my psych classes but also second of all my family is so holistic. We’re from the Philippines and the hospital is reserved special for if you’re dying. (Btw that’s bad, go to the doctors please)

You don’t fight with your boyfriend…like ever. You don’t like fighting and he thinks fighting i childish. But that’s not to say you two agree on everything. Exhibit A:

“At least with my remedies I know I won’t be overdosing on cough syrup.”

“Baby, with all due respect I’m not using herbs to get rid of a respiratory infection.”

Another thing, you love Baymax. You really do. You were there to help build him, he knows you personally but he has nothing to do with your health. And that irritated Tadashi to no end. Flu season had come around and it seemed like everyone was getting sick. Including you. The basic fever, cough, headaches, and disgusting amounts of phlegm hacking out of your throat. Yet, you denied any help from your boyfriend’s healthcare robot.

It made him upset because you could get better so much faster if you let him use his extensive medical knowledge on you, and yet you still said no. But nothing about your ideologies had created such tension until recently. When he caught you doing something he deemed unfathomable.

Almost a week into you being sick, he’d seen you chopping onions late into the night after making his lemon tea.

“What are you doing?” Tadashi looked over at you after coughing up a chunk of bloody phlegm from his own throat.

You sniffed, clearly congested. “Cutting onions.”

“For what?”

“My socks.”

“I’m sorry?”

Surely he must have misheard you. You and him had been together for years and he knew all about your home remedies. There was a stained food processor in your house from when he had joint pain in his wrist and you had him eat turmeric paste. When Hiro had unknowingly given him stomach flu you went out and bought efficascent oil and rubbed it on his stomach. He’s seen you gargle salt water, chew on peppermint, put baking soda on bee stings, eat raw garlic, and drink cranberry juice for your menstrual problems but that one took the cake.

“Do you want some?” You’d asked it so innocently but your tone could have changed if you’d seen the look of utter disbelief on his face.

The both of you had been sick for a week in an endless cycle of eating strawberries, and oranges, taking magnesium, and eating spoonfuls of grainy raw honey. All of that to him seemed fine. Even he understood to a certain extent you couldn’t just take medicine all the time. But when he offered to buy cough syrup, ibuprofen for throat pain, Tylenol for cough headaches, and other flu medications you shut it down. He was free to take all of those things to make himself feel better and he swore it did.

But you were in so much pain and it seemed like whatever you were doing wasn’t helping. Just that morning, Tadashi rubbed your back while you had a 10-minute coughing fit that was so bad there were streaks of blood in your spit. You’d cried when a pounding headache hadn’t left and he felt so helpless knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

Tadashi stuttered. “W-Why are we cutting onions for our socks?”

“You put them in your socks and then you sleep with them on, my mom swears by it. But if you have like sensory problems that’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“Baby don’t you think- maybe you should just take something for it?”

You scoffed because you already knew where this was going. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny. It’s just you’re so sick.” His voice dripped with concern.

Just as he’d said it you dug your face into your elbow and started coughing. The loud, raspy, crunchy kind of cough. Almost like the universe was on his side. Then came the cough headaches. The one thing you had allowed Baymax to scan you for and nothing else. A build-up of pressure from consistent coughing and sneezing in your head could cause pounding headaches.

The second he saw the grimace on your face, Tadashi jumped up from his study table and ran over to you. Pulling you in for a hug and gently pushing his fingers through your head. But that was also the time he decided he couldn’t take this anymore. His girl was in pain and crying over a sickness he could use his brain and his bot to figure out how to cure.

“I can’t take this anymore.” He confessed still holding you. “Please, will you let me give you a Tylenol?”

“T, no.”

“Why not? It’s so obvious you’re hurting. I know you don’t like taking medicine. I get that, but you just aren’t getting any better.”

You gently lifted your head off Tadashi’s chest and looked up at him. “So are you and you’ve been taking medicine.”

“But I feel like I’m getting better.”

“Hunny, you threw up an hour ago.” You deadpanned.

He racked his brain for a positive way to spin the horrible retching experience. “O-okay but that’s-um, that’s the body’s way of making itself feel better.”

You two were going in circles. But Tadashi was not backing down. He was adamant that you get better if it was the last thing he did and you knew it. Last year Hiro got sick with a particularly horrible kidney infection. So bad that when he’d tried to walk to the restroom he collapsed on the floor physically unable to move. After that none of your friends ever really saw Tadashi for almost two weeks. Right after school, he’d sprint home just to take care of him. That was his thing. Your boyfriend lived to take care of people.

Some people in the world don’t care about anything you’ve ever done and something you will do. Like doctors. Doctors don’t need to know how good or bad of a person your friends think you are in order to take care of you. Finding people like that is rare. Tadashi is one of those people.

And you, one of the people he loved and cared for most in the entire world wouldn’t let his extensive knowledge on healthcare help you feel better. And no matter how many times you reassured him, he couldn’t help but feel like you being sick was his fault.

“How about this,” He suggested, moving his hand from your head to your face. “I will do your onion-sock thing if you let me give you cough syrup. Just one spoonful and then we’ll drop it. Sound fair?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you slowly nodded your head. Out of relief, you were going to let him do something about how you felt, Tadashi leaned down and kissed you right then and there. It was extremely counterproductive and he couldn’t have cared less.

That night, you let your boyfriend spoon artificial cherry-flavored Robitussin into your mouth. And he let you put loosely chopped pieces of white onion in his socks while he slept. For the record, neither of your immune systems ever really recovered in that one night. And yet-somehow, you woke up feeling the best you had in over a week.

#baymax #big hero 6 #big hero six #tadashi hamada #bh6 x reader #disney #fanfic #tadashi hamada x reader #writing #napakmahal

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eyeofnewtblog · 1 year ago

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Things that happen at work:

Got hired by a trucking company doing admin to safety stuff.

My new boss, in the interview: I’d love to have you start on *specific date* so that we can do the on boarding stuff, but we’re going to have the Driver Appreciation BBQ literally the day after and I want everyone to meet you.

Me: That’s honestly a good plan. I’m completely available for whatever happens, what time do I need to be there?

My actual second day of being hired and going through the whole set up of Driver Appreciation BBQ Day:

*chopped four onions for burgers and sobbed in the break room*

My boss: *lightly supervises but is honestly a Party Queen because she’s a Hispanic mom and is used to throwing parties for 100 plus people in her own backyard let alone a work bbq, you don’t even understand she literally looked at the corporate list of supplies and was like “nah, too much. Mmm. Maybe. Hm. Not enough.” AND WAS EXACTLY RIGHT she owns her own bouncy house, she’s got this shit on lockdown, ok?

So like two hours into this polite bullshit introductory hell scape (I am fine with meeting new people in large groups but I hate meeting people in “sterile corporate” settings, like, if I’m going to remember you, it’s because you did something actually meaningful or interesting, NOT because you shook my hand for five seconds and said you go by Steve or Becky…)

Me, to EVERYONE because my job is to Hand Out Shirts and Lunchboxes: Hi! I’m the new girl from Safety! Who are you exactly? Please don’t expect me to remember you, I’m terrible at putting names and faces together, but I’m sure we’ll talk again soon! What size T-shirt do you want? Here’s your lunch box!

Me: *finally gets a break and sits down to eat some honestly decent brauts and potato salad, deliberately choosing to sit next to one of the drivers that’s been at the company for a while* Hi, how’s it going? I’m the new safety girl!

Older driver whose name I don’t know YET: I’m doin’ pretty good with all this free food. So, you gonna stick around after the little one comes along, or are you gonna leave us high and dry like the last one?

Me, honestly pretty angry but trying to be cool: Not pregnant, just fat.

*very very very awkward silence, like this dude knew that he fucked up, but also the way my body is shaped I really don’t blame him for thinking what he did*

He did actually apologize right then and there, and honestly the entire way he went about everything was from a genuinely good place, and I personally thought it was funny after it was all said and done. Verbal on the spot forgiveness type stuff.

Guess who fucks up the very next day by UNINTENTIONALLY losing a very important document of the exact driver who “insulted” me?

Yeah. So. I spent my entire first week on a brand new job searching through three giant filing cabinets and 20 years worth of documents for ONE fucking medical card. I didn’t find it. Believe me, I looked at every single piece of paper in those cabinets, I have no fucking clue where I put it.

The driver was really nice about it and we had a good laugh about him putting his foot in his mouth and me swearing up and down I didn’t do it for revenge.

Honestly I have no idea how any of this will turn out, but every one seems nice so far so I’m really hopeful.

#things that happened today #things that happen at work #humans are space orcs #truckers #truckers are a breed unto their own #just have fun with it

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trashyswitch · 2 months ago

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Day 6: Cuddles

Kremy and Gideon sit down, just the two of them together as they eat gumbo, reminisce about family moments and tickle each other till the evening come.

A little less late for this one...but I had a reason this time. I went to a friend's wedding that day, and couldn't upload as a result. So regardless, I hope you enjoy!

Kremy added the diced peppers, the yellow onion, and the cloves of garlic to the pumpkin pot before stirring the gumbo around. The gumbo looked like a thick stew, with a mud-like roux. When it looked stirred up enough, Kremy pulled out the cajun seasoning and spun it in his hand before shaking some around the top of the stew. He continued to shake the seasoning with his right hand as he stirred with his left hand.

“Lookin’ good, Kremy.” Someone said behind him, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Kremy smiled and put the cajun seasoning into his left fingers before pulling the person closer and kissing his lips. A few moments later, he broke the kiss before saying “Thought you could walk away, Gid?”.

“Eh, figured I couldn’t.” Gideon admitted.

Kremy took a spoon and gave Gideon a small bit of the gumbo. “Spicy enough?” He asked.

Gideon tried it and hummed eagerly. “Mmmm! That’s perfect!” He reacted, giving Kremy the spoon back.

Kremy took the spoon and placed it aside, replacing the spoon with a new one before trying it himself. “Mmm- That’s good.” He said, putting the second spoon down.

Gideon sat down and watched Kremy cook the gumbo for a little longer, before it was served in bowls.

“Is this the gumbo you grew up with?” Gideon asked, taking Kremy’s bowl for him while letting Kremy sit himself down beside him.

“Yeah, it is.” Kremy sat down beside Gideon before taking his bowl. “My Maw would always make this gumbo whenever I was sick, or down on my luck. She’d make it extra spicy too, because she knew it would make my stuffy nose run.” Kremy told him. “And…cause she knew I liked spice.” Kremy added.

“Fair enough.” Gideon responded, taking in another mouthful of gumbo.

“Yeah…My maw was pretty good.” He admitted.

Gideon smiled. “I’ll bet.” He took another bite of the gumbo. “What else did your Mom do when you were down?” Gideon asked.

Kremy took another bite of the gumbo as he reminisced about his mother. “She used to tell me stories of how my parents met, and some of the date nights they used to have.” Kremy told him. “She also used to tell embarrassing stories about my Dad, and would actually encourage me to ask Dad about them.” Kremy told him, laughing a bit. “It was so funny seeing him get all flustered and worked up.” Kremy admitted.

Gideon smiled and laughed a bit. “Wow…I think I’d feel pretty betrayed too.” He admitted.

“And if I got him worked up just enough, he would chase me all around the house. If I ended up caught, he would ‘nibble away at the fibs’, as he called it.” Kremy explained.

“Nibble away…at the fibs…” Gideon asked.

“In other words…tickle me.” Kremy admitted. “He would pretend to nibble at my belly.” Kremy admitted.

“Oooh, like the ‘Om nom nom nom’ sounds…” Gideon replicated the sound as best he could.

Kremy yelped and covered his mouth. “AH-!” A small smile filled his cheeks. “Y-Yeah…like that.” He said, his voice going up an octave.

“Was that accurate?” Gideon asked.

“Yehes! Too accurate!” Kremy admitted.

“Too accurate, eh?” Gideon smirked slightly.

Kremy chuckled awkwardly. “Dohon’t you even think about it!” He warned.

“Think about what?” Gideon asked.

“Trying it!” Kremy yelled back.

“I wasn’t going to!” Gideon reacted.

“Okay, good.” Kremy muttered, trying to get the pink on his cheeks to go away.

A couple moments of silence filled the air…Only for Gideon to look towards Kremy with a growing smirk. “But on the other hand-”

“DON’T!” Kremy pushed his face away, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “I swear!” Kremy reacted. But Kremy’s smile told Gideon everything. If Gideon did go ahead with it, then he wouldn’t really push him away. Not intentionally, anyway. Knowing him, he’d probably just let it happen.

“You swear?” Gideon asked. “And what would your Dad do if you swore?” Gideon asked, gently taking Kremy’s half-filled bowl of gumbo.

“H-He’d-” Kremy mumbled. The warlock gator was struggling to hide his face as his cheeks grew more and more scarlet. Part of him wanted to run away. But the other part of him wanted to see how playful Gideon can be. It was a vicious cycle in his head that he was struggling to fight.

Gideon took in a big breath, scaring Kremy in the process. In no time at all, Gideon shoved his face into Kremy’s shoulder and started making the nibbling sounds while tickling his sides.

“GIHIHID- HAHAhahahaha!” Kremy squeezed his eyes shut before wiggling around in his grip. “Gihihid, come ohohohohon!” Kremy whined.

“What’s this? Is this code for “tickle me more”?” Gideon asked him.

“Whahahat?!” Kremy wiggled around and waved his arms, unsure if he should cover up his sides, or push Gideon’s face away.

“Om nom nom nom nom nom nom.” Gideon said playfully. His nibbling sounds were positioned straight into his ear, making his flustered face even worse. Maybe that was the reason why his Paw used to tickle him?

“Gihihihid, stohohohop!” Kremy said through his laughter.

“Stop what?” Gideon asked him.

“Tihihickling mehehehe!” Kremy told him.

“Nom nom nom- yes, I am tickling you. Thanks for the wonderful insight, Kremy.” Gideon teased, before going right back to the nomming sounds.

“Yohohou suhuhuck!” Kremy told him.

“Nom-nom- Are you sure about that? Nom-nom-nom-nom-nom-” Gideon asked him.

Kremy had been handling the playfulness rather well. Sensing he could get him back, Kremy spun himself around as fast as he could, and tickled Gideon’s sides back.

“Wha- Oh FUHUCK! GAHAHAhahaha!” Gideon dropped his composure and immediately started curling up. “Nohohohoho! Nohoho fahahair!” Gideon reacted.

“What do you mean ‘not fair’?! You started this! And I’m ending it.” Kremy leaned in and started doing the nibbling sounds as well. “Om-nom-nom-nom-nom! Om-nom-nom-nom-nom-nom!” Kremy imitated, sounding slightly like his father. “You thought you could embarrass me and get away with it?” Kremy asked.

“Nohohohoho!” Gideon replied.

“That’s what I thought.” Kremy said as he stopped his clawed fingers. When he was done, Kremy sat himself up and picked up his gumbo before taking another bite. Though the gumbo had cooled down, it was still relatively on the warm side. Kremy watched Gideon pick up his own bowl and finish his gumbo as well.

When he was done, Gideon put his bowl down and snuggled himself into Kremy’s chest. Kremy widened his eyes and looked at him, but softened his expression when he saw how comfy he looked.

Gideon’s face looked calm, and quiet. He looked really comfortable around him. This was a striking difference compared to how Gideon acted when he was first getting to know the Fire Genasi.

Kremy wrapped his arms around Gideon and held him close. When this happened, he saw Gideon open his eyes and look up at him. “You okay?” He asked.

Gideon looked at him and smiled a little bit. “Yeah…” He nodded his head. “I’m okay.” He closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

Kremy rubbed his arm and back gently. He wanted to make sure Gideon felt safe and secure when laying in his arms. And it seemed to be working well for him. Gideon’s usually tense body was slowly easing as his breaths grew slower and quiet. His hardened demeanor and hotheaded outward appearance was gone…

Gideon looked so peaceful…

it was…almost beautiful.

“Do you ever miss your parents?” Gideon asked.

Kremy shrugged his shoulders. “Sometimes, yeah…” He admitted.

“Mm…” Gideon looked up at Kremy. “Did you feel…comfortable when you were with your parents?” He asked next.

Kremy smiled. “Sometimes, yeah.” The gator admitted.

Gideon smiled. “I feel really comfortable around you.” Gideon admitted. “Maybe that means I consider you family?” He asked him.

Kremy looked down at Gideon and smiled brightly. “I consider you family too, Gid.” Kremy admitted.

Gideon smiled and hugged him just a little tighter. “Thank you…” He told him.

Kremy rubbed his back gently. “You’re welcome.” He replied.

Gideon looked up at Kremy, before smirking slightly. Sensing a little opportunity, Gideon started to poke and prod Kremy’s side.

“aAh- Haha- Gihid- NAHA!” Kremy immediately started getting him back.

“Gahahaha! Dohon’t you dahahare!” Gideon ordered, squeezing his side.

“Whadda ya mean- KKHAAHAHAHA!” Kremy laughed, desperately trying to get him back.

“Yeheah! Laugh it up, little- WAHAIT- SHIHIHIT!” Gideon instinctively started to curl up and hide his tickle spots. “NOHOHO!”

“Yohou giving up?” Kremy asked, wiggling a finger into his belly button.

“Yehehe- BAHAHA! YEHEHES! YES, IHI GIVE UHUHUP!”

“You gonna kindly stop tickling me now?” Kremy asked him.

“YEHEHES, IHIHI WIHIHILL! NOHOW STAHAHAP!” Gideon yelled.

“Alright, alright.” Kremy stopped his fingers. “Good.” He told him.

“Jeeheeheez…Ihit’s scary how well you can do that.” Gideon admitted.

“Do what?” Kremy asked with a smirk.

“Tickle people. It’s almost scary.” Gideon clarified.

Kremy smiled and poked his side. “Just know that I’m always ready for a fight whenever you tickle me.” Kremy warned.

“Just like your old man?” Gideon asked.

“Exactly like my old man.” Kremy concluded with a proud smile.

#augtickletober2024 #day 6 #cuddles #romantic fluff #family dynamics #family bonding #teasing #tickle fights #funny #cooking #kremy lecroux is a great cook #ticklefic #switch!kremy #switch!gideon #nibbles #once upon a witchlight #coalecroux

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abbysimsfun · 2 months ago

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 55 (Major Mom Guilt)

Heather waited to tell Malcolm about Ash's accident until they returned from the hospital the next morning. She usually texted, but this time she phoned.

She fidgeted through several anxious rings before he picked up. "You never call. What's going on?"

Her heart jumped into her throat. "It's Ash," she choked out. "He's okay, but he...he had an accident."

"What kind of accident?" Malcolm surprised himself with how quickly he lost track of his surroundings, toppling a stack of papers he'd been meaning to ask someone to file for over a week. "Where is he?"

"He's at home. He was playing at daycare yesterday and hit his head, but doctors cleared and discharged him this morning."

Malcolm was quiet. "Why didn't you call me last night?"

"It wasn't on purpose. I couldn't think straight about anything. It was late when the doctor said he'd be fine, so Conrad and I stayed at the hospital all night and we got back five minutes ago."

"I...I had an interview but I'll get one of the other reporters to cover it. I want to come see him."

Heather didn't expect Nancy and Malcolm to drop everything and drive all the way from San Myshuno, but later that day they came to see for themselves that Ash was okay.

He'd been cheerful and talkative before they arrived. But in front of his father and grandmother he whined about his head and said he was hungry, even though he'd just eaten.

Nancy chastised Heather while she and Conrad tried to make dinner. "He doesn't eat. He spends all day at a cut-rate daycare in this half-baked town that almost left us planning a funeral, and you work all day, every day, at the clinic you love so much. Maybe if you cut the asparagus spears smaller, Ash could eat them."

"He eats," Heather insisted. "He's testing boundaries and he knows you and Malcolm will both give him what he wants if he whines."

"My son and I discussed transferring him to a private preschool in the city on the way here. They're much more exclusive and have better childhood educators than the glorified nannies at his little daycare."

"They need the same qualifications in Brindleton Bay as they do in San Myshuno," interjected Conrad, continuing the meal as Heather's stress level forced her to temporarily step away from her knives. "It was an accident."

Nancy ignored him. She liked Conrad a lot less now that he was with Heather, but she didn't have it in her heart to hate him outright. "We started the application but we can't submit it without your signature," she said, placing the coiled booklet on the kitchen table in front of Heather. "We think it would be good for his education."

Heather said nothing, getting up to check the food Conrad had placed on the stove while he tidied the kitchen.

Malcolm could feel the tension when he came down the stairs. "Ash went down a lot easier than he does at the penthouse."

"Thanks for helping get him back to sleep. The hospital bed wasn't the most comfortable for him," said Heather. She braced herself, glancing at the onions she was chopping to add to the meal. "Did you and Nancy want to stay for dinner?"

Malcolm shook his head. "I'm glad to know he's okay, but we should head back. My mother can still make her corporate ski trip in Mount Komorebi if we get on the Simmerloop before rush hour."

He glanced at the table and spotted the half-completed preschool application. He looked up again to find Heather studying his expression.

"What are you thinking, Malcolm?"

He glanced between his mother and his ex, both headstrong in their own ways. "I want what's best for my son."

Heather waited until he left with his mother before she tossed out the application with the trash.

"I swear I could fight her, but I feel horrible enough already."

"I know she's...intense. But I think she's as shocked as you are," said Conrad.

"Nancy has a right to be upset? I have a right to be upset!"

"Of course you do! I just mean, don't pick a fight with her over the application. It's gone now, right? Hopefully she'll calm down and won't bring it up again."

Heather scowled. "Private preschool! The second Nancy gets her hands on my son's education, she'll ship him off to boarding school in Champs les Sims, just like his father. I'll never allow it!"

"I love you, and I'm only saying this because I love you, but maybe Ash needs to go back to his old daycare. It was a freak accident, no one's fault."

"They weren't watching him!"

"They were, but they looked away for one second. Do you know how many cases I've dealt with where something happened in the blink of an eye that changed everything? Ash is lucky, but you can't dwell on what might have been."

"I'll take him to work with me for a while, until I know Dr. Serra was right and he's okay. He loves the animals."

Conrad shook his head. "It's not going to be stimulating enough for him and you know that. And you can't do your best work watching him over your shoulder all day."

"I have to keep him safe!"

"You do keep him safe. No one keeps him safer than you, but if you hold on too tight now you'll end up holding on too tight forever. Like Nancy."

That was all she needed to hear to force her to swallow her pride. Despite her fears after his accident, she knew he needed to spend his days with kids his own age and made plans to send him back to daycare.

Heather's busy work life would continue to compete with the needs of her family, but she was determined to find a way to manage both. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #brindleton bay #malcolm landgraab #nancy landgraab

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therapeutic007 · 3 months ago

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An Epic Saga of Snack Attacks and Salad Struggles 🍩➡️🥗

So, I decided it was time to embark on a weight loss journey. It’s like picking a new video game, except instead of leveling up my character, I’m just trying not to level up my waistline.

Day 1: I’m pumped! I hit the gym like a warrior. Everyone there looks like they just walked off a fitness magazine cover. Me? I’m just trying not to trip over my own shoelaces. I spent 15 minutes on the treadmill and burned exactly two calories. I think I actually lost more energy trying to figure out the buttons.

Day 3: Time to eat healthier! I’m all about salads now. I walk into the grocery store like, “Yes, I’ll take the kale and quinoa, please!” The cashier looked at me like I was a unicorn. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Just excited about leafy greens!” I replied, while secretly dreaming of pizza.

Day 5: Tried meal prepping. It was supposed to be a productive Sunday, but instead, I ended up with a kitchen that looks like a vegetable graveyard. How did I even make this much mess from chopping one onion? I’ve seen less chaos in a horror movie.

Day 7: I discover intermittent fasting. I thought it would be empowering. Turns out, it’s just me staring at the clock like a starving time traveler. “Is it noon yet? I swear if I have to look at one more salad meme…”

Day 10: I weigh myself. I’m down… wait for it… half a pound! Time to celebrate! So, I go for a slice of cake because balance, right? At this point, I’m just hoping my scale has a sense of humor.

Day 14: I’m now doing yoga. I thought it would be peaceful, but my body is more “twisted pretzel” than “serene lotus.” I’m also 97% sure I heard my inner voice scream, “Just let me eat chips!”

So here I am, still on my quest for the mythical land of “fit,” armed with snacks, a questionable understanding of portion sizes, and an undying love for carbs. If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the gym trying to lift both weights and my spirits, one awkward lunge at a time! 🍕💪✨

________

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thecapricunt1616 · 8 months ago

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Blue Lotus - SxC Fic - Chapter 3

♡ Summary: Carmy actually has allowed himself FRIENDS?? Also- he gets to have like.. a normal day with Syd somewhat, outside of work, hanging out with people who aren't in any way involved w/ the restaurant.

♡ W/C: 6,919

♡ Posted Date: 04/08/2024

♡ A/N: Hayo ;D Here is C3 of Blue Lotus!!! I am v much like Carmy & got a alot of amusement AND enjoyment writing this chapter, so that makes my brain tell me I took it too OOC & I haaate writing these 2 OOC. So if its OOC I'm sorry, but at least it's funny LOL. The story Shayna tells is lightly based on Euphoria But the college version - so if you've seen it that's why it feels a little familiar - if you haven't seen it its a same vibe except high school so the father is much, much more disgusting. But I looove writing Shayna so much, I have friends like her & they are always the personalities to make you laugh until youre sore the next day - & Syd & Carmy deserves a friend like that so I gave them one! Without further ado, I hope you enjoy <3 As per usual this fic is inspired by Tucson that can be read here It was written by my lovely friend @gingergofastboatsmojito please be sure to read that one before you read Blue Lotus, also do give Ginger a follow!!!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Talks of ; a near physical assault, blood, sex, transphobia/outing, self inflicted wounds, actually contains; smoking cigarettes/weed, drinking alcohol, vomiting, swearing

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

“Hey! Im Sydney- sure! We were uh…we were gonna cook- do you wanna join? I just got back from the store” she got up, shaking her hand.

“Totally - my god this necklace! Where did you get it?” Shayna asked, leaning in and looking at the pendant “and you smell so good, lavender?” She said.

“I thrifted it! I love thrifting. Carm does too- does it so much he has to keep extra jeans in his oven.. oh! And yeah this perfume it’s inside. I’ll show it to you” Syd replied happily.

“Your oven?” Jesse asked Carm

“Yeah uh.. not enough space- um Syd these are my…” he trails off

“Friends. Were his friends- therapy friends I guess. I mean I hope he holds his word and texts me when we get out of here” Shayna nudged Carm’s shoulder gently.

He cleared his throat “yeah- uh-my friends. Shayna and Jesse.” He said shyly.

“Well it’s nice to meet you guys, have you ever had deer? They sell it at the grocery store here, harder to get in Chicago. I figured we’d try this recipe I thought up a while ago” she opened the door to the cabin and Jesse and Shana went inside making themselves at home right away.

This wasn’t the first time they’d hung out, they would do this a few times a week before dinner and then sit and eat together before going back to their respective cabins for the night.

“Never had deer before - aren’t you guys like super chefs or-“ Jesse is interrupted by Shayna’s whining

“Carmen you still haven’t asked for a wifi box?!” She asked annoyed, putting her phone back in the pocket of her cargo jeans.

“No I haven’t because I don’t need one I’m not addicted to Instagram or whatever the fuck” Carmy said, taking the door for Syd and she headed in, him following suit.

“Oh yeah I forgot Carmy the little old man who likes to hide away from the online world- you look like you take fire Instagram pictures, how do you deal with that loser all the time?” She asked Syd jokingly, leaning against the counter and watching as she pulled various ingredients from the fridge.

Syd laughed a bit, a big smile on her face as she moved around looking through various cabinets. “I do…um- Chef-“ she said and he sat up from where he was leaning against the kitchen doorframe

“Where do you need me?” He asked her

“Onions medium dice if you can manage the knives here suck” she took out one of the small knives they kept for him in the drawer and set it on the cutting board as she began to pick the rosemary, putting the sprigs in a bowl.

“What the fuck is that” Shayna picked up a mortar with a deep black goop at the bottom.

“Juniper berries…found a juniper tree when I was hanging outside. Made sure it’s the right kind so don’t be worried” Syd said and Carmen couldn’t help the small smile that curled his lips.

“You found a juniper, and you just.. remembered this recipe?” Carmen asked, chopping the onions as skillfully as if he hadn’t been out of the kitchen a single day.

“Thats hot” Shayna says “you’re hot as hell bitch! Oh my god! You just saw a tree and were like ‘let me make up this super cute berry deer coquette dish’ ” she said, causing Syd, her, and Jesse to crack up, but Carmen was lost.

“The fuck is a coquette?” He asked, causing Syd to laugh harder when Shayna said between giggles

“I told you! He’s so old!!!” She squeaked, leaning against the counter and wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

“Coquette is like… Marina and the Diamonds on Vinyl, pink bow, fairy princess, Sydney in the woods picking juniper berries aesthetic it’s like..a vibe.” Shayna explained.

“Oh my god- it’s a girl thing carm it’s like. I dunno- like pink frilly shit and like- Lacy shit?” Jesse tried to explain.

Carm raised his brows, scraping the now cut onions into a bowl. “So Syd picking berries what does that have to do with- what did you say- pink bows?” Carm questioned and Shayna rolls her eyes.

“It’s the vibe Carmen, the vibe. Ugh you are no fun I can already tell Sydney is the fun one. What music do you listen to?” Shayna sat up next to Syd on the counter as she dusted the board with flour and started to cut the meat into chunks.

“I listen to…well- a lot. My mom loved R&B so I still listen to that but mostly 90s stuff that makes me think of her, I love SZA, HER, Jhené Aiko, oh Kali Uchis! Khelani of course… frank ocean is so fire I really like his stuff too..yeah just a lot of stuff.” She explained.

Carm sat there digesting every word she said, it wasn’t unusual for him to do that. He tried tucking the unfamiliar names in the back of his mind so he could look them up or ask Shayna what she knew about them later.

“Oh my god- we have to chill sometime!! Do you smoke?” Shay asked hopefully and Syd looked at Carm for a moment before her eyes flickered back to Shayna.

“I do. But…not when I’m working. Because it fucks up my taste and smell..but I am on vacation so…” she said with a small shrug and a smile.

“Dude! Oh my god Jesse cmon I need to go back to my cabin” she got down off the counter “I’ll be right back” she said and they headed out being sure to close the door behind them.

“They’re fucking?” Syd asked and Carmen laughed a bit

“No- no. Where’d you get that?” He asked, beginning to peel the carrots over the garbage can.

“Why did he go with her? Aren’t the cabins all right here?” She asked.

Carmen looked up at her for a moment “oh- yeah. They are. Shay has somethin about being alone. Somethin about her childhood- she came here because she said it’s like…the good version of where her dad sent her. Whatever that means. But she can’t be out and about alone it freaks her out. I guess she went to some… wilderness camp? She went on about it in one of our sessions. They were…they were fucked up.” He said, putting the now peeled carrot down on the cutting board and starting on the next.

“Shit.” She said, putting the cast iron on the burner, starting the flame with the lighter that she’d found on the counter. “Like…so they left her in the middle of nowhere or something?” She asked and Carmy shrugged.

“Kinda like that. She said that they like…would hike all day. And then at night they’d have to pitch their own tents. They took their shoes at night so they wouldn’t try and run. They’d like- send pictures back to their family- and if they didn’t smile they’d get in trouble. Pretty fuckin…sadistic shit t’do to a kid. Dunno how her dad thought it would change her ways - she said she went because their views on religion didn’t align…” he explained

“Wow…” she said, after a long beat of silence “she’s like..I wouldn’t have expected her to be so friendly after that. I wouldn’t be” she said, salting down the meat.

“Yeah Shayna is…a character. For sure. But she’s really sweet, and has a huge heart even though she loves to bitch people out. She’d cut someone if they tried to fuck with me, though. One of the newcomers showed me that” he chuckled, shaking his head a bit.

“What happened?” She asked

“So we were at lunch, and before that day we just..sat at the same table but didn’t really talk. She talked, but I would mostly listen. And um, this new dude. Justin? I think? Total fuckhead. Guys a tank too, like fuckin’ 6’2? No joke. But uh he was like basically screaming at his table, talkin’ so fuckin’ loud, so I looked over- and he met my eyes and just went off hes like ‘you got a problem little man? What the fuck is up with you, you got a staring problem?’ And Shayna- you should have seen her!” He laughs at the memory.

“What’d she do?” Syd asks curiously.

“Oh, she picked up her mashed potatoes- like - a fist full of mashed potatoes Syd- bare handed- and screeeamed at him ‘YOU WANNA FUCK WITH HIM COCKSUCKER?! WHY DON’T YOU COME FUCK WITH A BITCH THAT CAN ACTUALLY LOOK YOU IN THE EYE, SCAREDY MOTHERFUCKER!’ then whipped it at the dude. It hit him right in the face- eeeeveryone was dying we were all cracking the fuck up. I haven't seen him again after that, thankfully, but then she just looked at me and asked me for my plastic knife so she could get the potatoes from under those huge nails she wears and went to wash her hands like nothing happened.” He explained.

Syd laughs and Carm follows suit. “Wow. Well I guess I shouldn’t worry about you after all- you found a temporary big sister, you should keep her around. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who would pelt another in the face with mashed potatoes for me” she snorts a laugh, setting the meat in the pan.

“I would. Without a shadow of a doubt, when Marcus was yelling at you I wanted to fuckin knock him out with a pan-“ he stopped himself and she looked over at him, the only sound now filling the room being the sizzling of venison on cast iron and the tick of the wall clock.

She blinked a few times, unsure what to say before the memory of the drawing came back to her.

Just say it now. Why else would he want to hit one of his employees with a pan if not for feelings he hasn’t made me aware of?

She’d thought to herself.

But Carmen on the other hand was thanking god that Shayna and Jesse came back, boisterous as ever-

“Pookiesss We come bearing gifts” Shayna drops a bag on the table, as well as a pink speaker that was playing some Spanish music Carmen hadn’t ever heard before.

“You listen to Bad Bunny?” Syd asks as she turns around.

“YOU Listen to bad bunny?” Jesse asks and Syd smiles big

“Who doesn’t listen to Bad Bunny?” Syd laughed “he’s like- literally I think the most listened to Spotify artist or something? Top 3?!”

“Who is bad bunny?” Carmen asks as he cut the carrots into matchsticks.

“You need to train your dogs better, Sydney” Shayna teased, taking shooters of grey goose out of her tote bag and putting them in the freezer.

Syd laughs so hard she snorts, covering up her mouth with her hand and shaking her head. “You are fucking insane” she said

Carmen smiled big, looking over at Syd. “Chef, did you just snort?” He teased smugly and set his knife down, leaning against the counter next to her, smirking.

“I did- because your friend thinks you’re my bitch” she teased, turning back to the meat and flipping each cube carefully with the metal tongs that were next to her on the counter.

Carmen’s mouth drops and his cheeks go scarlett, Shayna snorts a laugh, sitting at the table casually, legs crossed as she picked the stems and seeds off buds of weed, while Jesse howls with laughter. “Fuuuck-“ he shakes his head with amusement “wow. I uh…” he snorts a laugh “I get you Carmen. Get you better now” he said.

“Okay- fuck you shayna” Carmen shook his head, unable to contain his smile. He’d never heard Syd laugh so hard before and witnessing it made him feel on fire.

“Sorry I can tell who wears the pants it’s a natural talent of mine” she shrugged, “Jess come do this” she slid the little container of picked apart buds over to the spot next to her and he sits next to her at the table.

“So you guys aren’t..like you’ve not known eachother before this?” Syd asks them.

“Oh! No we did actually. Jess and I met at this program when we were 14, restart. It was a pure chance though that we come here at the same time.” She said and got up, washing her hands in the kitchen sink of the sticky resin.

“That’s so cool - where are you from?” Syd asked her as she takes the bowl of onions from next to Carm at the island, their hands brushing for a moment which caused Carmen to nearly cut himself because his focus was completely lost at her touch.

“Were from LA. Aren’t you from Chicago? Why are you here? I mean- like it’s great you’re great I’m glad to have a sane member of society around, it’s refreshing when you’re only around only psychos, you know? But uh..” she laughed a bit when Syd got started “you must be…pretty close friends” she looked at Carm for a moment before looking back at her.

Carmen suddenly felt something akin to anger sitting low in his chest. And it had to do with Shayna. He likes Shayna, so he wasn’t sure what was going on. But, Jesse saw the switch in Carmen- and read it right away as jealousy.

“Uh…” Syd clears her throat nervously, suddenly not knowing what to say.

“Like what is it? Jess? We went to restart in Wisconsin so Chicago? How far is that?” She asks.

Jesse gave her the cut it out eyes, but Shayna hadn’t been able to play matchmaker in weeks, she was gonna push these two together the same way she made her Barbie’s kiss when she was a kid.

“I’ll guess like - 1800 miles. Soooo- oh! And don’t you have that restaurant?” She asked and Syd nods.

“Mmhmm we run it together. It’s fine though it’s being held down, I finally got my new Sous trained and his sister is working a lot lately she wants to get everything all together before she has her baby so…” she rambled on, trying to pull out any reason that made it sound like she was unneeded there - even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Right. I’m gonna go smoke would you like to come? I’m sure your…” she looks back at Carmen for a moment before looking back at Sydney “partner can hold this down until we get back?” She asked and looked at Carmen again, raising her brows.

“Yeah- yeah Syd go. Go ahead go relax - got this chef.” He nods and went over to the stove, squeezing past her in the tight space, his hand brushing her waist momentarily as he did so.

“Okay- okay sure” Syd nodded, following Shayna outside. She walked quietly for a few moments, lighting the joint and taking a drag before handing it over to Syd.

They were about 30 feet from the house, Syd was taking a deep drag of the joint - savoring the taste since she couldn’t do it often, when Shayna said

“You need to fuck eachothers brains out so he can go the fuck home. That- or tell him it’ll never happen so he can stay here for however long it takes him to break down and move on”

Sydney choked on the smoke in her throat, quickly handing the burning joint back to Shayna and coughing into her arm.

Shayna laughs before taking another drag, patting Sydney’s back sympathetically. “Sorry- people have told me I’m too blunt but I’d rather hear the truth so I give it to people straight” she said simply.

“Dude! What if he heard you! Shhh!” Sydney said once she caught her breath.

“Oh please! No! He didn’t! And if he did- he’d be leaned halfway out the door trying to hear the answer because he’s dying to know! You know he has the hots for you- please- don’t play stupid, girl” She rolled her eyes, handing the joint back over.

“What - no- he’s- we’re business partners” Syd replied, shaking her head and taking a short drag. “He doesn’t. He’s just sick and clinging to me he’s - he’s depressed and I’m violating HIPAA or whatever by saying that but it’s honest! I’m not his type” She passed it back over to Shayna.

She took it, laughing at her HIPAA comment “Chefs aren’t bound to HIPAA regulations, but nonetheless- I’ll be honest for you, since you can’t be honest with yourself. You flew here because you want to fuck him. There’s no other explanation- no not even just fuck- you love the guy. Why else would you fly across the country to be with him? Especially when he’s due home in 11 days. No dick is that great, especially attached to a guy on that many psych meds.” She said and took a long drag.

Sydney’s heart began racing 100 miles an hour. She stopped walking, leaning against the fence, feeling like all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. She imagined this is how Carmy felt when Stardust threw him off.

“Are you- what in the Hozier Adele ass fuck. You didn’t know? Or - realize- the L word? That you love him?” Shayna said, taking another drag of the joint.

Sydney stared at the forest ahead, resting her hand on her forehead, shaking her head. “Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck.” She swallowed hard. “Um-uh I- I feel sick? I feel- I’m gonna throw up.” Syd said, standing up and quickly walking over to the large oak tree at the end of the rows of cabins, hurling up the remainders of her lunch which was just a McDonald’s burger she’d gotten on her way back from the grocery store.

“Jesus Christ. It’s you too? What are you waiting for?” Shay followed after her, rubbing her back gently

“What do you mean-“ She’s interrupted by a gag she couldn’t hold back. “Fuck. What do you mean what’s me too?” She asked, coughing and spitting the bile taste in her mouth on the ground before leaning against the tree to catch her breath.

“Like- you and him both don’t even realize you’re in love. It’s weird as fuck. It’s usually one person chasing - but you guys are secretly chasing eachother? But also at the same time trying I dunno. One of you has to make a move though” she said, leaning on the tree next to Syd.

“What if he’s just sick? What if he’s clinging to me because he’s sick and…and I’m like manipulating him” she asked nervously

“Ahh yes because you are manipulating a grown man into not breathing when he sees you? You can do that? Can you teach me? Except I’ll use it to kill creeps” she nudged Syds shoulder, finally earning a smile back out of her.

“He doesn’t do that…” she looked at the ground sheepishly

“When we get back, I’m gonna count out loud because the oblivious fuck hears no one when you’re around, and watch he won’t be breathing. I swear it’s like the first thing I noticed looks like a fuckin fish out of water.” She said and finished the joint, stomping it out with her shoe. “Shall we put my experiment to the test?” She asks and Syd rolls her eyes.

“I wanna see what’s going on with the food let’s go” she smiled a bit, heading back with Shayna to the cabin.

It only took them 4 minutes back, Shayna walks in first and Carm’s head pops up from his conversation with Jesse at the counter, and as soon as Syd pops in behind her- Shayna quietly starts whispering “one…two…three…four..-OW!” She squeaks as Syd kicks her ankle just enough to hurt.

That was enough to break Carm out of his trance “hey- hey- how was your walk, y’okay? You look…I dunno” he came up to her, feeling Syds cheek with the back of his hand “y’flushed…” he said and she pulled away from his touch, feeling embarrassed.

“I’m fine” she said, walking back to the stove and making sure the meat was okay. “What did you do with the beef stock?” She asked, looking over the counter.

Carmy swallowed thickly “uh- sorry, sorry. Here” he went to where he put it in the cabinet and handed it to her. “We…we good?” he asked quietly.

“We’re good. Get the juniper berries please.” She said without meeting his gaze and opened the stock, pouring some in the pan.

Shayna giggles and Carm looks back at where she and Jesse were sat at the table, Jesse making a circle with his thumb and forefinger and thrusting his other finger in and out of it, alluding to their sexual tension lacing the room.

“Oh you are children.” Carmen grumbles, grabbing a beer from the fridge and rolling his eyes “want one- dipshit? Cabin check is tomorrow they all need to be gone” he said and Jesse nodded with a smug smile.

“You love your crazy camp besties pookie!!! Don’t play games cause your cool chef friend is around” Shayna said, getting up and going to the freezer, taking out 2 shots.

“Syd?” She asked and Sydney turns around, looking at the shots in her hand.

“Uh- why not. Sure. Just one” she said, taking one of them and cracking it open.

“Cheers” Shayna says, clinking her shooter with Syds

“To?” Syd asked.

“New beginnings” Shayna said simply before tilting her head back and swallowing the shot in one gulp.

“That was the best fucking food I’ve ever eaten. Have you guys ever been told you should open a restaurant?” Jesse teased, helping Carmen clear the empty dishes from table.

“Wow you really should pursue stand up, Jess” Carmy said with a small smile, collecting the 4 disposable cups they used for wine and throwing them away.

“You know who would fuckin love her Carm?” Syd motions to Shayna

“Who?” He mused, rolling up his sleeves and starting the hot water on the sink.

“Richie. They’d be menaces together but they’d be best friends!” Syd laughs a bit and Carmen gasps

“Richie!!! Yes! They would- but- Oh my god how is he? I literally- fuck. I’m so shitty I haven’t even really…like been thinkin about everyone back home other then like you and I- I guess sugar” Carmen said.

Jesse and Shayna gave eachother a ‘we’ll discuss this romcom fuckshow later’ look, before giggling amongst themselves.

“He’s- he’s Richie. He’s never gonna let me stabbing him go. Every time I tell him to do something he’s like ‘right away chef wouldn’t wanna get stabbed’ - he’s scaring the new hires, carm!” She giggled in the way that made his heart flutter like butterflies were smacking it with their wings. “And he keeps calling me cousin by mistake!! It’s getting ..really weird” she shook her head, sitting down at the table.

“You stabbed a motherfucker?” Shayna asked impressed.

Carmen laughed a bit “on accident” he told her

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t feel good he was grating my last nerve that day. But I mean…he’s okay so I’m not that bad for thinking it” she smiled and Carmen laughed, scrubbing the plates with the sponge.

“I would have stabbed this motherfucker but I just did one better and made everyone afraid to fuck with me. Everyone thinks this was a result of my attempt but it’s not.” Shayna showed off a long scar on her forearm, partially covered by a large dragon tattoo.

“You did that to yourself?” Syd asked, slightly impressed but mostly a little scared, her finger gently rubbing up the raised scar.

“Mmhmm. In college. I went to this party, this guy-“ she shook her head with a small, mischievous smile. “So he comes in the kitchen, he’s acting like a fucking bull so of course I’m staring at the weirdo, right? He looks at me- and he goes what the fuck are you looking at, bitch. And I was new, so I didn’t know it was his house. So I was like I’m looking at some meathead loosing his temper like a toddler, what the fuck are you looking at. And he just asks me who I am- and…” she sits back “I didn’t know anyone? Like…I went there to meet people. So I was like oh I’m Shayna and he just starts screaming ‘who the fuck is Shayna, does anyone at this party know a fucking Shayna?’ And he was like in my face. So I told him I was like I’m not trying to start anything here I’m minding my business back up and he goes ‘no one that looks like you is minding their own business’ and then he- he told me he knew what I was.” She said and shrugged.

“ And that I just wanted attention. And that he would give me the attention I was looking for. And then? He told everyone in the kitchen that someone better speak for me or he was gonna fuck me up.- so, I grabbed a knife from the counter, and he backed up like a pussy and was like ‘I’m kidding! I’m kidding it’s a joke I’m fucking with you!’ And I asked him if he wanted to hurt me, and he kept saying no - even though I knew he was getting ready to kick the shit out of me, probably worse. So I slit my arm, and bled on him. Then I left. And no one ever tried to out me there again.” She said and sipped her beer.

“You’re gay?” Sydney asked curiously.

“Yeah but that’s- Jesus Christ these Chicagoans” she said, and her and Jesse started laughing.

“What? What’s funny?” Syd sat up.

“she’s-“ Carmen starts

“AHT!” Shayna tisks “no, Carmen, we got to make fun of you for a month now we get to make fun of her until she figures it out. I think you’re smarter though, socially speaking” She said and Carmen gives her the finger, causing her to laugh.

“Oh- ohhhh! Wow! I wonder how he thought he could tell” Syd said and Carmen looks back at her.

“Really?! How did you figure it out so fast?!” He asked her

Syd laughs “oh because it’s the 2020’s and if someone says they were outed and it’s not about being gay, there’s only one other thing to out” she said and Carm huffs, annoyed with his own pitfalls of refusing to make friends his first 30 years.

“Yeah how would he know? I didn’t know” Carm asked her and she smiled big, looking at Jesse.

“It was fucked. Up. What you did. But if you wanna tell them? Gooo ahead.” He said with a smile, drying the dishes as Carm washed and rinsed them.

Shayna laughs excitedly, sitting up and pushing her long blonde hair back. “Okay, so. I end up finding out who this guy is, right? And apparently…his dad who was the football coach was like- DL- into trans girls- “ Carm interrupts

“What does that mean?” He asked her

“DL? Down low, like- they fuck us in private” she explained and Carmen scrunched his brows in confusion

“Why?” He asked and Shayna looked at him confused.

“Because…they think it’s gay?” She said like it was obvious, but to Carmen, it wasn’t.

“But… Y’re a girl. So how would it be gay?” He asked

“I’ll give you a ‘how humans interact with eachother’ lesson later, Carmen, for now it’s story time” she teased.

“Anyway-“ she continued “so I find this out, because I look up his name on Facebook - see his dad tagged, and I fly to Grindr- because I swore I literally saw him there. Turns out I had. So I send him a chat, we hit it off, I go fuck him-“ she said, Syd starts laughing, Carm turns around with wide jaw eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Like- oh I fuuuuucked that man. Multiple times. He didn’t fuck me- let me say that again for your cis ears to have it sink in, I fucked- this man’s father” she said - Carmen’s jaw drops further, and Jesse was howling with laughter at Syd and Carmys shocked expressions.

“No- no- Shayna- hold on I need a cigarette - Jesse take this shit over” Carmen pulls open the front door, pushing up the glass on the screen door, grabbed his beer and cigarettes from the counter, and sat next to Syd at the table. “Okay keep goin- I’ve never heard this much-“ he shook his head in amusement

“Tea? I know- it gets better!” Shayna laughs.

Carmen smirked, shaking his head and taking out a cigarette lighting it between his lips and taking a drag. “So you fucked this man’s dad.” Carmen couldn’t help but laugh at how insane the words sounded coming from his mouth- and Sydney followed suit, head falling back and eyes squeezing shut, Carmen’s heart quickened at the adorable sight, having the urge to reach out and grab her soft, delicate hand that was just a few inches from his own on the tabletop.

“Oh my god- were taking them with us back to chicago- I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this” Syd said, stealing his beer from next to him and taking a sip.

The action made Carmen’s heart skip a beat. The fact that she was comfortable drinking out of something his lips had already touched, it drove him wild. They had tried food off of the same spoon at work just so they didn’t have to go through the hassle of washing two, but this felt…different. More intimate.

“Did you- I’m sorry- did you want one?” He asked “I didn’t think you liked beer - I thought you said you like wine more” he said and she shook her head.

“We can share…right?” She asked, a bit shyly. She wasn’t sure what made her do it, maybe it was because her white claw had been long forgotten and now was luke warm on the kitchen counter, or maybe it was the few extra shots she’d been convinced into taking earlier that was causing her to take the chat with Shayna to heart.

“Yeah- course, always.” He nodded a bit. Unnoticed by Syd and Carmy, Jesse and Shayna give eachother another ‘we’re gonna talk about this romcom shit later’ look before Shayna clears her throat.

“So- yes Carmen, I fucked this man’s father. And multiple times. He was married- I didn’t fully know that though before you both look at me shitty- he didn’t say that -“ Jesse cuts her off

“Ohhhh- oh! No!!” He laughs “no- the real story- is that she saw a ring but didn’t ask about it - you may now continue” he said, turning back to the sink and rinsing the last of the dishes.

Carm snorts a laugh “evil. That is evil the man’s marriage! Shayna!” He took a drag of his cigarette and she rolled her eyes.

“It was already on the rocks- let me finish! You fucks! So then- I recorded it, and I held onto it- just in case. But. Get this- one of my girlfriends on campus? Guess who she ran into on Grindr?” She asks and Carm and Syd both lean in slightly, and Shayna can’t help but notice the way they were already so in sync.

“The fucking guy from the party” she said and Syd gasps, Carmen cracks up.

“He’s his fathers spitting image. Thats it. That’s why- that’s why he said that to you. He knows about you or whatever? Because he loves girls like you and is also a pussy.” Syd said and Carm hums in agreement.

“Exactly! Exactly. So…I had her tell him to meet her in the park- but…” she smirks and Sydney covers her mouth preemptively, knowing whatever was going to say next was going to be off the wall.

“I was there too- fucking his dad! And oops! he saw us! And I asked him if we should check and see who’s bigger- he dropped out of school the same week- and the dad resigned” she said and took another casual sip of her beer with a proud smirk.

Carmen sits there, dumbfounded, looking to Sydney who when she saw the look on his face cracked up. “Your face-“ she said, causing him to start laughing as well.

“Shay-“ he looks at her, wiping tears that were gathering in the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard. “Shayna what the fuck” he managed to get out before laughing again, shaking his head. “You are a person that I won’t ever, ever get on your shit list if I can help it” he said, looking over quickly when Syd coughs from laughing so hard

“Woah- arms up, arms up” he tells her and goes to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and coming back quickly, opening the cap and handing it to her. She took a large sip.

“Thank you- sorry- fuck you Shayna you’re gonna kill us both I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh this hard” she said and Shayna smiled

“Well, that’s a good thing. this guys got a problem with having the dead inside look- at least before you got here” she nudged Carm with her elbow.

He realized he was still stood, hand protectively on the back of Syds chair looking down at her as if she was the only one in the room.

“Isn’t that why we’re all here?” Jesse countered, sitting in the empty chair next to Shayna

“I’m very alive inside- I just get too manic and start destroying my life because it’s something to do” she said and finished off her beer. “I’m already on probation cmon I need to go to my cabin and you aren’t allowed to have fun without me” she told Jesse, standing up and grabbing her bag and speaker. “Nice to meet you, Sydney. And Remember our chat hot stuff” she said as she put her bag on her shoulder.

“Yeah- we’ll probably run into each other again, I leave Sunday night.” She said, and Carmen’s heart soars.

He wasn’t sure why, he just thought maybe she’d just fly in for one night to see how he was and then leave the next day, but the fact she was staying a whole other day and a half- and they would be alone.

“Sick! Okay well we’ll link up tomorrow then, have a goodnight guys - and remember wrap it before you tap it, shortstack!” Shayna said as her and Jesse shut the door behind them and head off.

Carmen blushed pink, shaking his head. “She’s a hack, but she’s a very nice hack” Carm said, rubbing over his face embarrassedly.

“They’re super cool Carm. She’s..really fuckin out there but-“ she shrugged looking at the clock. “Oh- shit. Fuck- it is late, I don’t want you to get in trouble” she said, standing up and grabbing her coat off the back of her chair.

“You- you aren’t um…staying?” He asked and got up, grabbing her backpack she’d brought with her from the kitchen table and bringing it over.

“Oh well all of my- stuff..” she trailed off, eyes locked on his. They stayed there silent for a moment, and his heart started pounding in his chest so hard he could feel it in his stomach.

“Uh-“ he started and nervously bit the inside of his lip, he’d been doing that a lot tonight. He was holding his tongue, he always did around her. He didn’t understand it, because unless she was around it was like a part of his brain switched off, and he didn’t have access to speech in the same capacity as when she was near.

“I- so…I think um- I-“ he stops himself, grabbing his shoulder nervously and averting her gaze. His throat suddenly felt tight, this was it. He either said something, or he let her leave and he stayed up all night thinking about what he should have said when she leaves.

“Did you draw me?” Sydney asks suddenly.

Carmen feels his stomach doing flips, his palms got sweaty and all of the color drained from his face. “I-“ he crossed his arm over his chest, tightly gripping his hoodie. He suddenly felt as if he could be sick, “I’m sorry?” It came out sounding like a question.

Sydney felt insane “you- when-“ she smiled nervously “oh god- Jesus- I- it must be the-“

Carmen cut her off before she could say what would shut his entire course of action that he was trying to lay out down fully before he could attempt to put it into motion. “I meant- I meant I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. Syd. That’s how I meant it. I - you remind me of home.” He said, not breaking her gaze. “And I need a little bit of that, here.” He said softly.

Syd just nods, holding on to the chair for stability. She wasn’t sure if this conversation was really happening or if she was in some insane dream. She could hardly believe Carmen was expressing himself to her, in a way other then anger or fear.

“I..I draw you a lot.” He admits, running a nervous hand through his hair. “We do uh- art..art therapy. A few hours every day”

“Can I…see them? If…if that’s okay?” She questioned.

The color came back to Carmen’s face full force, he had to be sure whichever sketchbooks he would show her had none of the explicit themed drawings. “Uh- sure. Sure…gimme a sec- I’ll um” he headed to the bedroom, opening the desk drawer and grabbing the bigger sketchbook he usually took to art therapy, the safest one since the therapist would come and look at whatever the patients were working on.

He quickly flicked through it to make sure, before heading back out to the living room where Syd had sat on the couch when he went to retrieve the sketchbook. “I’m- sorry…sorry if this is like. Weird-“ he said, feeling suddenly Insecure about his hobby that was the reprieve that got him through any of the sleepless nights he had here.

“No- no its..it’s sweet Carm, can I?” She asked, grabbing the sketchbook in his lap, their hands brushing lightly. He felt that familiar fire in his chest, and nods with a hum of agreement.

She opened it, eyebrows raising in surprise “they aren’t like-“ he started

“This is incredible-“ she cut him off and leaned over him, turning on the lamp at his side to get a better look at the portrait he had committed to memory of her smiling. He nearly shivered when her curls brushed his cheek, the smell of the perfume on her neck mixed with the familiar scent of her causing goosebumps to appear over his flesh.

“I don’t know if I should be offended that you remember the gap in my teeth so well. Because I know for a fact you aren’t on Instagram” she said. He smiled, rolling his eyes slightly

“It’s one of your nicest qualities” he shrugged a bit.

“Oh one of them? Are there many?” She smiled, flipping the page.

“I think the question should be if you have any flaws” he said, and her eyes flicked back to his.

They were now sitting so close that their faces were less then a foot apart. “I think we both know that’s bullshit.” She said

“To you maybe” his eyes flickered to her lips momentarily.

“I always catch you doing that” she teased, smiling a bit.

“Doing what?” He asked, his eyes meeting hers again.

“I dunno…staring at me..like..” she looks at his lips for a long moment before meeting his gaze once again.

“Why do you think?” He asked quietly.

“There are alot of things I can’t seem to figure out about you…Carmy” she said just above a whisper.

“Well what do you want to know. I’m uh…trying to be more open.” He said equally as soft.

“Do you know why I really came here?” She asked

“Because you saw the fuckin drawing, somehow.” He smiled a bit.

“Yes” she chuckled “but- it just..it kinda confirmed something for me I dunno- I just wanted to come check if maybe-“

She’s interrupted by his lips on hers, she was surprised at first, but of course didn’t pull away. He cupped her cheek gently, his thumb rubbing over her supple skin.

The way their lips moved together was natural, like they’d done this already a thousand times in a hundred lives. His nose gently nudges hers and she wraps her fingers in his dirty blonde curls, tugging gently how she’d fantasized so many times.

He slid his tongue over her plump bottom lip, humming softly when she opened her mouth at the contact. His hands were nearly shaking. His entire body felt like it was exploding with tiny fireworks underneath his skin.

The air between them both felt as if it was crackling with electricity. As if the universe was humming in approval that they had finally accepted their bond.

Sydney had never felt anything so right. She felt as if every stress in her life evaporated, as if her and Carmy were the only 2 people in the world. She felt like she was glowing from the inside out. “T’make sure I wanted t’do that…right?” He said softly when she pulled away.

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡ ⋙

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