#I project onto this egg a lot and yet I also agree that he is big cringe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

poisonedapples · 3 years ago

Text

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids - Chapter 2

Craft Projects and Failed Bonding

Chapter Summary: Roman plots against Patton in a way he thinks is threatening.

Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Panic, anxiety, implied past abuse, food mentions, and anxiety over being watched by cameras.

Word Count: 4,533

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22

Notes: Thanks to cornybird on Ao3 for helping me beta this one!

“Virgil, wake up, it’s time for breakfast!”

Roman cracked open his eyes to stare at the door. His security bar was still under the doorknob, and it sounded like Patton walked away to knock on the next kid's door, so Roman slowly lifted himself out of Virgil’s bed once the coast was clear. He hadn’t been asleep for the last two hours, so there was no point to continue lying down and risk Patton trying to get into the room to wake him up. So Roman rubbed his tired eyes to undo the security bar and put it in his backpack.

Though, speaking of his backpack…he had no idea where to put it. It wasn’t safe in Virgil’s room, but Virgil was still sleeping in Roman’s bedroom. He could take it downstairs with him, but that’s a strange thing to do during breakfast, and he didn’t want that to be the conversation opener of the day. Especially if they asked him what was inside. They weren’t allowed to know that.

Eventually, Roman settled on hiding the backpack underneath Virgil’s bed. It wasn’t the best hiding spot, but it’d work until Roman could come back and take it. He opened the door and headed downstairs, praying that he wouldn’t be the first kid to arrive.

The prayer wasn’t enough, because Roman looked around the kitchen and only saw Patton at the stove. Patton looked over at him and seemed confused, trying to hide it behind a chipper smile. “Morning, kiddo! How’d you get dressed so fast? I only knocked on your door a second ago!”

Don’t let him find out you weren’t in your room. “Oh, these are my pajamas, I haven’t gotten dressed yet. And I was already awake, so I just came right downstairs.”

Patton looked Roman up and down, and Roman shivered. “…Do you not have real pajamas, kiddo?”

“No. I like sweatpants better.”

Patton didn’t seem pleased, but he didn’t question it further. Roman sat down at the table and anxiously drummed his fingers while he waited. Eventually, Logan came downstairs fully dressed with his hair brushed, and Virgil followed not long after. His hair was a mess, and his pajamas were twisted like he just fell out of bed and rolled down the stairs to make it in time.

Patton took one look at him and almost gasped. “Virgil, did you sleep last night? You look…a bit rough, to put it lightly.”

Virgil grunted. “I had to clean.”

Patton sighed. “Kiddo, save cleaning for the morning, okay?”

Virgil shrugged, groggily making his way to the coffee machine to try and steal some Patton already made for himself. “Virgil,” Patton chastised, “No coffee. You can go back to sleep after breakfast if you want, but you’re too young for coffee.”

Logan raised his hand. “May I have some?”

“No.”

“Darn.”

“What kinda drink do you want, Roman?” Patton asked. “And don’t say coffee.”

Coffee sounded really nice, actually, but there was no use arguing. “I’ll take milk, then.”

Patton finished emptying the contents of his pan onto some plates before grabbing three cups from the cupboard and filling them up. Two had milk while one had orange juice, and he passed them to each seat at the table. He then passed everybody their plates, with scrambled eggs and a bagel with cream cheese. Roman took his fork and tasted a bite of the eggs.

Holy fuck, Roman hadn’t had something that tasty since his grandma last cooked for him. The eggs were so soft and cheesy, and Roman could barely contain his excitement for it. He put as many eggs as he could fit onto his fork and stuffed it all in his mouth.

Patton laughed when he noticed Roman’s reaction. “Taste good, kiddo?”

Roman hummed, and Patton smiled. “Good! I learned how to make them from my roommate in college, and I haven’t looked back since!”

Roman hoped that roommate taught him how to make a lot more things then, because this was heavenly. He’d finished his entire plate of eggs so fast it was concerning, forgetting all ability to savor his food. Maybe Roman could find the recipe and steal it when Patton wasn’t looking.

Until then, Roman moved on to eating his bagel while everyone else wasn’t even close to finishing breakfast. He guessed that was a good thing. If he finished before everyone else, he could run to Virgil’s room and grab his backpack without anyone noticing. Roman chewed faster at the possibility.

Once again, the table went very silent as everyone ate and Roman tried to make a swift escape. Patton was the one to break the silence this time. “So, Roman,” he said, “How about you and I go to the store today?”

Roman froze. “…Why?”

“I’m sure there’s some stuff you need. School starts again in two days, so we need to get you some school supplies, and maybe we can get some stuff to decorate your room with too!”

“Wait, school starts in two days? I thought it started in two weeks!”

Patton seemed apologetic. “In this district, the first day is this Wednesday. Usually I’d let you stay at home a little longer to get comfortable before school, but I think it’d be easier for you to start the first day when you have the chance. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you home alone for another week.”

You should leave me here alone, Roman thought. He was a little disappointed he had to go to school sooner than usual, but school was also the best excuse to leave home early and come back late. If he could get involved again in theater, he could hide out and blame his late return times on rehearsals. So maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

Patton interrupted Roman’s internal scheming. “Do you know what kinda supplies you might need, kiddo?”

Roman twirled his cup in his hand and watched the milk spin. “Binders, pencils, folders, notebooks…I only have a backpack, really.”

“We definitely need to stop by the store then! And while we’re there, we can look at all the bedroom stuff too!”

Everything in Roman made him want to decline, to tell Patton to buy him whatever and he’ll make do with what he has. His heart started to pound again, his hand gripping hard on his cup and thinking about his escape options. Then it dawned on him.

They would be going to a store. A store, full of cashiers and moms with kids and plenty of parents who might also need school supplies. If there was anywhere he could be safe while alone with Patton, it was there. And maybe if he agreed, Patton would leave him alone for a while…

“…We can go.” Roman said. Patton’s grin widened and his eyes lit up.

“Great! So, just get ready once you finish breakfast, and we can head out! Logan, you’ll be in charge while Virgil takes a nap.”

Logan nodded, and Virgil almost fell asleep on top of his plate.

Eventually, everyone finished breakfast and put their dishes away, Virgil dragging himself back upstairs and falling into bed without even closing his door. Roman carefully entered his bedroom, darting his eyes between where he hid his backpack and where Virgil was lying.

“What.” Virgil snapped, mumbling it into his pillow. Roman stopped in his tracks.

“I only need to grab my bag, then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Fuggin’ take it.” Virgil snapped.

Roman grabbed his backpack and scurried out of there, closing the door behind him. It uneased Roman to try to sleep with the door open, so he assumed someone as secluded as Virgil might be the same. It was a little way to show his gratitude for last night.

Roman walked back to his own bedroom after grabbing his backpack. However, once Roman opened the door, he finally understood what Virgil meant by “cleaning”.

The mess Roman made last night was completely gone. The bed was made, the hangers were placed back in the closet, the lightbulb was back in the lamp and the nightstand had been set back up. It was almost like last night was a bad dream that never happened, Roman’s only evidence that it had being the fact that he woke up in Virgil’s room that morning. He looked around the room again to process the change, when he noticed a piece of paper on the nightstand.

Roman picked up the piece of paper and unraveled it.

There’s no cameras in here, I checked. I also fixed your mental breakdown for you. You owe me one.

Virgil

Roman looked around the room, holding the paper tight to his chest as he examined every corner. There wasn’t a single camera in here? Not one? No, no that wasn’t possible. The camera was around here somewhere. Roman knew it.

He looked around again, three times, looking under objects and in the closet, feeling the pit in his stomach grow when all his searches came back futile. He knew it was here somewhere, and he refused to let Patton win. Roman would find it.

He’d just…have to find some other place to sleep until then.

Roman shook his head as a way to erase his thoughts. He could worry about the camera later, but for now, he needed to please Patton’s attempt at getting to know him and get out of this cursed room. Roman still wrapped a blanket around himself as he got dressed, not quite able to shake his anxiety long enough to not take precautions. He changed from his pajamas to a red shirt and baggy jeans, and ran out to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Camera or not, he’d have to find a way to pay Virgil back.

***

“Roman, what’s your favorite color?”

Roman snapped out of his distant stare to look at Patton. He was looking at a display of school binders, pausing for a moment to glance at Roman and wait for an answer. The stare was so much for Roman to process that he took a step back. “Uh…red.”

“Perfect! They’ve got lots of reds!” Patton grabbed a red binder before stopping himself with a thinking expression on his face. “Though, wait, let me check the supplies website…I don’t wanna get a wrong size, or only get one when you need multiple…”

Roman went back to staring at the floor under him. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. It seemed like a great idea at first, but now Roman was here holding himself tight and trying not to cry, feeling the exhaustion set in while his anxiety made him restless. He wanted to go home and sleep, but there was nowhere to sleep. Nowhere to hide.

He’d have to search the house for hiding spots later.

“So,” Patton eventually said, “It doesn’t say exactly, so I’ll just grab a zipper binder and one two inch just in case. If you need more, I can always stop by again and buy some. What’s your second favorite color?”

Roman swallowed to fight back the tears. “Purple.”

Patton smiled. “That’s Virgil’s favorite color! So, one red zipper binder and a purple two inch. So let’s look at the pencil cases now!” Patton caught a glimpse of Roman’s pale face and his smile dropped. “…Are you okay, kiddo?”

Roman nodded. He didn’t trust himself to talk, but it seemed like Patton didn’t trust his answer. He took a step toward Roman, and Roman took two steps back. Patton frowned. “Are you sure?”

Roman nodded again. Patton ran a hand through his hair and looked around the store. Please, let’s just get this over with already.

Patton’s head stopped as his eye caught sight of a specific aisle, and he smiled in Roman’s direction. “Say, kiddo, how about you go check out the fish? I’ll be over here getting the boring stuff if you need me!”

Roman glanced at Patton’s eyes. They were soft and forgiving, but all Roman could feel when looking at them was fear. He took this as his moment, spinning around on his heel and almost sprinting toward the fish aisle. Anywhere was better than being near Patton.

Roman looked at the walls of fish tanks with fish of all kinds of colors, watching them swim around as the filter’s bubbles reached the roof. There were some that were swimming around each other, and others that stopped in place for long periods of time. Roman held himself and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

It was more peaceful away from Patton, at least. Roman felt a little less sick and his hands weren’t shaking as badly, focusing on the fish to calm himself down. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it worked. That’s all Roman could really ask for.

He watched the fish swim around and read their species facts for a while, until he couldn’t feel tears in his eyes anymore and the nausea was tamed. Roman walked through the aisle to look at the fish tank decorations and other pet toys. He picked up a chew toy for a dog and squeaked it, awkwardly messing with the toys and trying to keep Patton in his peripheral vision. It felt odd to be standing around in a pet aisle with no plans of buying anything.

Well, Roman thought, Patton never told me I had to stay in this aisle. It was only a suggestion. I could move on to another part of the store.

Roman looked at where Patton was one more time so he could remember his spot. It seemed like he was checking the supply list on his phone and thinking hard about colored pencils, and Roman hoped he would be occupied with that for a while more. He walked out of the aisle and looked above him for ideas on where he should go next.

Bathroom, no. The bakery would be wonderful if I could buy a donut myself. Clothes, baby items, plants…wait! Roman’s eyes lit up as he read another one of the signs. Hardware!

Roman always loved searching through hardware. He was a craft person at heart, and the aisles always gave him ideas for new things to try and make. Besides, Patton told him they were going to look for decorations for his room, maybe he could get inspiration there!

Roman entered the hardware aisle and began to look around. Because this wasn’t a hardware store there wasn’t much, mostly small items like door hinges and hook sets. There was also a doorknob you could only open with a code that Roman wanted, but there was no way Patton would let him install that. But maybe he could find something else to make his room safer.

Roman passed some other items, including some lightbulbs and a security camera displaying the screen that made Roman shiver when he passed by, but eventually Roman saw it. Ideas swarmed in his head and a big grin bloomed onto his face. It was perfect!

“There you are, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the sound of Patton approaching, looking up to see him with a basket full of school supplies. Patton smiled to hide the worry in his eyes. “I noticed you left the other aisle and I didn’t know where to find you.”

Roman gripped harder onto the box he was holding. “Sorry, I got bored…but I found something I want for my room!”

“You did? What is it, kiddo?”

Roman held up the box to Patton. Patton raised an eyebrow at him. “…Curtain rods?”

“Yes! Sounds strange, I know, but I was thinking that I could make my own canopy bed with them! We could get some curtains and I could hang them up around the bed, and I could decorate the curtains to look beautiful! Please?”

Patton rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t know, kiddo…it sounds like a cool project! But you’d have to install them into the roof, and I’m not very good with a drill!”

“I can do it!” Roman begged, “I’ve installed lots of home stuff before, and I’m really good with tools! And if I mess up I promise I’ll fix any holes, or I’ll do some babysitting jobs to pay back anything that’s broken, just…please? Can I try?”

Patton seemed conflicted. He saw the desperate look in Roman’s eyes and sighed. “…You can try, kiddo. Just…don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work, okay?”

“I won’t be! Promise!” Roman grabbed three boxes of the largest curtain rods they had and tried to hold them under his arms. “Now, I just need some red curtains, and maybe some glittery star stickers, or some other craft supplies! And a hot glue gun, you can make beautiful raindrop decorations out of hot glue!”

Patton seemed like his head was spinning. “I’ll go get an actual cart for this, kiddo.”

And then, the hunt for supplies was on. Patton got a cart for Roman to pile the curtain rods on the bottom, failing to keep up with him as he ran from aisle to aisle searching for supplies for his ideas. All the curtains were too transparent for Roman’s liking, so he instead settled for a pack of red, flat sheets meant for a queen bed and a small pack of sewing supplies. Patton mentioned he had a glue gun at home, so Roman skipped that section of the crafts aisle and instead focused on some birthday decorations with crowns and stars as well as some stickers. The more Roman’s vision came into action, the more excited and bouncy he got.

With the opaque curtains, Roman thought, it doesn’t matter if he has a camera in my room or not. He won’t be able to see me sleep. And how cute, he won’t realize his mistake in letting me do this until it’s too late.

Roman was jumping on his heels at the thought. I’m a genius.

The checkout was long and the car ride was full of anticipation, but once Patton pulled into the driveway of the house, Roman opened the trunk and ran inside with all his items in tow. He didn’t even say hello as he ran past Virgil and Logan on the couch to head upstairs.

“Kiddo, do you want to organize supplies too?” Patton yelled once he entered the house.

“I will later!” Roman answered. He had work to do.

The first step was an experiment of patience. Roman took out all the flat sheets and folded them at the top, sewing the fold with a needle and red thread to make its own custom loop for the curtain rod. It was annoying and tedious, but necessary. Also a test on Roman’s skill of how fast he could hand sew.

He was almost done with the last sheet when a knock came to his door. “Who is it?” Roman asked.

“It’s lunch time, kiddo,” Patton answered, “I called you down a while ago. How about you take a break for some food?”

No. There was no time for breaks. Roman needed this to be done by tonight so he could finally get some sleep. “In a minute.”

“Roman, it’s been a while already. A little break won’t hurt.”

“I will in a minute!” It was a lie, but Roman had the door locked, so there was nothing Patton could do about it. Roman finished his final seam, so now it was onto installing the rods.

Roman was measuring where to put the hooks on the roof when another knock came to the door. Roman groaned like a spoiled brat. “I’m coming!”

“Roman, can you open the door?”

Roman froze. He just yelled at Patton, pushed his luck, now he had to open the door. Roman dropped the screw he was holding as his hands shaked. Shit, shit! “…Why?”

“I’ve got your lunch for you.”

Roman felt his throat close, but ignoring Patton would only make the situation worse. Roman dropped his hook and screws to open the door.

Patton was on the other side, smiling softly with a burrito on a plate and a glass of juice in his hands. “I had to reheat it, but maybe you can eat while you’re working.”

Roman dug his nails into his palm before taking the plate. “Thank you.”

“Can I come in?”

No. No, you can’t. You never can, ever. “…Sure.”

Roman scurried away from Patton to sit on his bed, drinking some of the juice and looking at what’s inside the burrito. Black beans, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, sour cream, onions, and green peppers. Roman took a bite and tried to calm himself by focusing on the taste.

“You like it?”

Roman nodded. “Never had this before.”

“It’s a black bean burrito. I found the recipe a few years ago, and I make them pretty often. Especially for growing kiddos.” Patton sat on the floor next to the mess Roman had laid out. “What are you doing now for your canopy bed?”

“I was gonna screw in the curtain hooks to the roof. I’ve just been sewing the sheets for now, which is the hardest part. I might have to sew them again though, since the sheets are so big I might have to cut them. Especially since I want to do two curtains on each end to make it look pretty.”

“Sounds cool! Do you need any help?”

Roman seemed to be thinking. Maybe if I satisfy him, he won’t be angry. “Do you know how to sew?”

“I know how to repair tears. That’s it.”

Roman took another bite of his burrito and jumped off the bed, picking up one of the sheets to examine the size. He jumped on his bed and held it up to the roof, seeing how far it would stretch. The sheet was much longer than his bed, so it would be perfect. “Take the sheets, measure them, and cut them in half right down the middle. Then I can show you how to do a catch stitch to hem the seam. That will save me some time.”

“You’re very good at hand stuff!” Patton complimented. A shiver went up Roman’s spine.

“…Yes.”

From then on, the environment was very tense. The only sound between either of them was the drill going through the roof and the sound of scissors cutting. When Patton finished cutting, Roman showed him how to hem the seam, but it was quiet again after that. Roman kept his distance and made sure his front was always facing Patton just in case.

“I hope you don’t mind if this is a very messy sewing job, kiddo.” Patton joked.

Roman shrugged. “You won’t be able to see it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Are you gonna decorate the sheets once you’ve hung them up?”

“Yes, it’s easier that way. And I can plan it out.”

“Any reason why you chose crowns and stars?”

Roman paused long enough to drill another hook into the roof before setting the drill down to grab another hook. “I like crowns. And stars.”

“Logan loves stars.” Patton really hated silence, apparently. “I don’t know if the other kiddos showed you their rooms, but Logan’s is covered in space stuff. It was really fun to do, actually! Though, I made Logan paint the stars onto his own wall because he kept talking about how it should be accurate constellations, and I don’t know anything about stuff like that.”

“I’ve only seen Virgil’s room.”

“Oh, well, if Logan ever invites you in, know that he did lots of work for his constellation wall!”

Roman hummed and drilled the last hook into the roof. He took a curtain rod and placed it on the two hooks near the foot of his bed. “How many of the sheets have you finished?”

“Oh, I’m still on the first one. I’m learning though!”

Roman jumped off the bed to sit on the floor next to Patton, grabbing his own needle and thread to begin hemming the seam. Once he started sewing, Patton watched him with wide eyes. “You’re doing that very fast, kiddo!”

Roman shrugged. “I’ve done it a lot.”

“What do you usually sew for?”

“Clothes. To fix rips, mostly. My mom also taught me when I was younger.”

Patton seemed taken aback by his explanation. “Did…did you enjoy that time with your mom?”

“I enjoyed all my time with her.” Roman paused. “Well. Most times.”

Patton swallowed. “Most times?”

“Her and I were really close, if that’s what you're asking.” Roman’s hands sped up as he sewed. “She would take me to movies and theaters, and she taught me how to bake as good as her.”

Patton’s voice grew serious. “Well…I’m sorry for your loss, kiddo.”

“She’s not dead.”

“I’m still sorry you lost her.” Patton shook his head and focused more intently on his sewing. “But you said you can bake?”

Roman nodded. “I bake a lot, especially cake. I know how to make red velvet cake from scratch and it is lovely.”

“We should make some tomorrow, then!”

Roman tensed. “Maybe.”

Roman finished off the hem of his side and moved to cut another sheet, hemming both of their sides once he did so. The rest of the time was quiet, with Roman purposely refusing to spark conversation and Patton processing the little information Roman gave him. By the time Patton finished one end and half of another, Roman had finished all the rest and took Patton’s to quickly finish off. Roman laid them all across the floor and opened the packs of crafts he got.

“Well, kiddo, I gotta see about making dinner now.” Patton eventually said, “Tell me how the end project turns out, ‘kay?”

Roman nodded. Finally, he’s leaving. “Close the door when you leave.”

Patton smiled and closed the door on his way out. Roman focused entirely on decorating his new curtains, placing glittery stars and plastic crowns and using the hot glue gun to make crystals draping down the curtains. He repeated a similar pattern for each one, eventually hanging two on each side of the bed so they could open and close down the middle. Once the final project was finished, and the floor of his room was scattered in materials, Roman smiled wide in awe.

“Yes! I did it! I did it!” Roman jumped up and down from excitement, flopping onto his bed and closing the curtains from every side. The curtains were a bit too long and dragged too much along the floor, but he could fix that another day. For now, he’d been at it for hours, and his bed was finally a safe space.

Roman buried his face into his pillow, feeling himself relax as the exhaustion of a whole day with no sleep and debilitating anxiety finally caught up to him. He groggily checked for any cameras on the roof, but that was the only place he had to check for a camera that could see him. He was safe.

Roman crawled under the comforter and closed his eyes. It wasn’t more than five minutes of lying there before he fell asleep, curling into himself and relaxing. Finally, he slept peacefully.

Finally.

#ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #panic #implied past abuse #past abuse #food mention #royality #prinxiety #familial royality #familial prinxiety

175 notes · View notes

perriwinklesblog · 3 years ago

Text

I feel a lot of people missed certain parts of the Tubbo and Quackity argument because theres a lot of “Tubbo was being aggressive” and “Tubbo refused to even compromise” going around.

So we’re going to go through many of the questions people have with the whole argument.

(It should be noted, it’s very clear that I am current on summer hols from uni as I put too much time into this long ass post. You don’t need to read it, this is very self-indulgent. I am bored so I analysed.)

Here are the questions covered;

This Land is My Land, This Land is Your Land: Does Tubbo have the right to build there?

I See You For What You Truly Are, which is UGLY: Is Quackity in the right asking Tubbo to tear down his structure due to how it looks?

Cookie Outpost: Threat or Passive Player?

That’s Not Fair: Why wouldn’t Tubbo try and compromise?

You Started It So I’m Finishing It: Why did Tubbo instigate and threaten violence?

Conclusion: The World Is Wide Enough.

1. This Land is My Land, This Land is Your Land: Does Tubbo have the right to build there?

Short answer. Yes.

Many people are putting real-world logic into this RP world, and whilst in the real world, Tubbo wouldn't be in the right here. However, what Tubbo has done in this RP world is perfectly acceptable, even if it is annoying.

The rules of this world are different to that of our own.

We must accept this. Regardless of whether you find similar situations that mirror real-world events, the Dream SMP (DSMP) has different unspoken and spoken rules than our own.

With that in mind, looking at the planning of structures and claiming land, it is very different from what we would typically see in the real world. There is no local government with a planning committee to go to for structures you want to build. You do not need to get approval to build structures. If there is a free space with no claim to it, you can create what you like. (Within reason, as long as it's not offensive, minus a penis as it is clear that the majority of this world do not find the phallic symbol to be offensive)

Whilst there have been retail estate agents on the DSMP who sell land to others, they first had to mark and claim the land to prevent someone just building on it. Marking the land with either fenceposts or a sign or outlining it with blocks is usual to claim something on the DSMP. Another way to claim land you wish to build upon, is to tell people and/or your chat so that when someone else comes across the land and starts to build, they then warn that the land has been claimed. Making it is the safest option to go with as many streamers know that chats can, and will often, lie. So without markers, it is assumed that the land is free and therefore up for grabs to build on. First come, first served.

This is what Quackity had done with Las Nevadas. We've seen people come across Las Nevadas before structures were built. Quackity had marked out areas for each building and signed it, showing those who had come across that the land they were walking on was claimed and could not be built upon. However, Quackity did not claim outwith that area, which is why it was so easy for Wilbur to find a place so close to Las Nevadas. Wilbur could claim his rival city out of pettiness much easier as there were no clear cut borders. Quackity did not outline the areas in which he wanted to expand, and therefore it was free land. He hadn't staked a claim on it. Quackity had thought it out but had not staked an actual claim.

Now, you could argue that was his plan and that he hadn't had time to outline where he wished to expand next. But that's not how the server works. When it comes to land, it is a first-come, first-serve scenario. Unless you take proactive measures to protect the land you have plans for, someone else can and will build there.

Quackity had not said to anyone canonically before Tubbo's Outpost that he was expanding there. He hadn't made the boundaries clear of the land he wished to stake a claim on, and therefore it stayed as free land.

So whilst what's happened to Quackity with plans of expansion stalling, this wouldn't have been an issue if he had been more apparent with boundaries. But, annoyingly for him, the perimeters of the DSMP, Tubbo has every right to build there as it was still free land.

Now, this brings us onto the building itself,

2. I See You For What You Truly Are, Which Is UGLY: Is Quackity in the right asking Tubbo to tear down his structure due to how it looks?

Short answer, no.

Again this comes back to the DSMP rules being different to real-world ones.

Now in many parts of the world, there are systems and hurdles you have to go through to get planning permission for a structure you wish to build, even if you own the land it will be on. You have to get the architectural plan approved by a committee a lot of the time. Neighbours often are allowed to object to structures or whole communities being allowed to at least say their grievances before the committee passes on the plan. Sometimes the committee will agree with the project even if there are grievances. Everywhere is slightly different, but there are systems in place for these discussions at the end of the day.

But not in the DSMP.

People can build whatever structure they want, no matter how ugly, as long as it is on their land or free land. So if they claim a bit of land and go, "I want to build an ugly thing", then they are allowed, even if it ruins the look of the thing next to them.

Is it rude? Yes. But does that mean they're not allowed? No.

Tubbo's structure is imposing for Quackity mainly because of the walls. He wasn't happy with the design when he first saw it before this wall, but the wall pointing directly at his nation was too much for him. Quackity finds them imposing and threatening, but it was technically on free land, so Tubbo can build them. Quackity does not have a right in the rules of the DSMP to have Tubbo tear down his walls due to how he perceives them. Although emotionally, it'd be great to see those walls come down in all parties.

He can issue with them and grumble but technically, within the unspoken rules of the DSMP, Tubbo's allowed to have them there.

Is it a bit rude of Tubbo to not have gone, "Hey, by the way, I'm building these walls around my structure; this is as close as I'm planning on this wall getting to your area, is that fine"? Yes, it was rude. But is he therefore not allowed to do that? No. He's allowed to build what he wants on free land that he has claimed.

So again, whilst aggravating for Quackity, Tubbo is allowed to build those walls.

Now to focus on the incident itself. There are many things, bear with;

3. Cookie Outpost: Threat or Passive Player?

The underlying cause of this argument is more to do with the perception of the building, walls included, than the actual placement.

Quackity could have found ways to move around the Outpost, such as dig a road under a new patch of land, etc. There are solutions to the outpost problem. Technically, Wilbur's only claimed a tiny bit of ground to easily have focused on building around the small building Wilbur made etc. Unlike Tubbo, Wilbur hasn't made his intentions clear where his areas borders are, and therefore, Quackity could use the same logic as Tubbo and the same logic of how land claimant works in the SMP against Wilbur. But instead, he focuses on Tubbo and places more energy in engaging with Tubbo than with Wilbur or Tommy. He views Wilbur and Tommy as more of a nuisance whilst Tubbo poses as a threat. He views Tubbo as a threat well before the actual threat from Tubbo and the proper knowledge of the nukes.

We often forget to take into account that canonically the audience knows more than half the DSMP members.

Philza is the only one who indeed acknowledges and reminds us of this fact. Others dance around or ignore the idea as sometimes they like to use the chat in their role-play to gain knowledge. But whether they've used chat in the past or not, the audience will always know more. So we read up upon and about streams we've missed and watch more perspectives allowing us a greater insight that canonically no one else gets. Unfortunately, the only understanding we have yet to grasp is Dream, which is not relevant to this current scenario.

We have to note what Quackity and Tubbo know and what we know and separate it with this understanding.

From Tubbo's perspective;

Tubbo heard of Las Nevadas, saw many people leaving for Las Nevadas and wanted to investigate. One of his citizens had emigrated to Las Nevadas, so there was a natural curiosity of what they are doing that's attracting everyone. So he initially wanted to create a very secret hiding place to spy on Las Nevadas to see what they were doing, much like what he did with the Egg.

The main objective: to observe.

The last organised group of people on the DSMP was the Eggpire. They were a nuisance for some people and a threat for many others, including Tubbo. So a new nation and a new group would naturally have Tubbo a little wary and very curious. Not to mention that this new nation was an old friend's latest project.

Those who watch Tubbo know that whilst he managed to create a small place to observe the Egg from, Tubbo often makes or desires big builds. Canonically small himself in height but loves a big house. So very quickly, the building itself becomes noticeable and more prominent than intended. Tubbo also likes substantial structured buildings leading to quite a sturdy looking outpost.

The Outpost style fits very much with Snowchester's style and the environment it is in. (As a side, he may not conically say he's a goat hybrid, but he chose a very mountain goat place to settle here). Whilst he continues to build his Outpost, he decides to build walls around it as a defence if anyone tries to sneak in or attack. The walls are reminiscent of the ones he made around Snowchester, again adding to the similarities between the two places he's decided to put roots. And again, it fits very much within the environment he's created. He adds a lava door as another defence but then decorates the courtyard for visitors. The lava door and walls keep people he doesn't want inside out but not to keep everyone out indefinitely. Again, he's establishing what his area is.

Tubbo understands that his area is not very secret, and the main goal is still to observe everything that is happening in Las Nevadas but knows he needs a cover since people are also asking what he's doing. So a cookie shop becomes the cover. A cover he gets quite into with the help of Ranboo. So with that, he needs to expand and make room for a farm and expand further onto the free land available. So the wall which becomes the centre of the argument with Quackity is built. This wall extends towards Las Nevadas but does not cross the river. Where it stops when they are interrupted with the Las Nevadas retaliation was as far as Tubbo was going to build it. The plan from there was to have to go back. The walls had gone from being purely defensive of the outpost building itself to indicating boundaries and what was Tubbo's land and what was still free land.

Tubbo added the bridge to connect his Outpost to Quackity's land to make it easier for both parties to visit each other. Quackity responded by linking it up properly but creating a toll.

When watching Tubbo's perspective and hearing his plans for the Outpost, it comes across as very passive. It was designed to be a place where he could keep up to date with what was happening and see what was going on without directly involving himself. He wanted to observe, and with his militant wired brain, he also needed some defences just in case. An argument often backed by the fact that almost all his builds on the server have been blown up, burnt down, or destroyed somehow. A fact, Quackity knows and feels too.

So for Tubbo, Outpost = Passive Player.

For Quackity's Perspective;

Quackity built Las Nevadas as a place where he can belong without proving it to others or compromising with others. This place is his and his alone where his laws and his rules are the only ones. People have to bend to him. People have to answer to him. He presents it as a safe haven from the chaos and a place to find a home, find family, and be one together. However, it is always on his terms. He will take others ideas and wrap them so they fit his narrative and plan but make it, so the others believe he is listening to them.

A case in point is the whole torture thing with Dream and Sam. He had an idea, he had a plan and then used a narrative Sam bought into, then twisted Sam's thoughts into fitting with his plans. It's a little bit more complicated than that but boiled down to the basics, yeah.

Whilst Quackity is the antagonist in many plot points right now, the heart of it all is centred on having a home, a place where he belongs and doesn't feel the need to constantly fight for it, to feel it threatened by outside sources continually. He just wants somewhere safe... where he can scam people so he can be rich.

With all that in mind, when Wilbur shows up, and their interaction descends into pettiness, it puts him on edge. He knows that Wilbur is stubborn and that Tommy is also determined. So whilst Quackity has the upper hand over them, which is why they're not seen as a threat more of an annoyance, they still started to sow the seeds in Quackity's mind that Las Nevadas was not as safe of a home as he first thought.

Now we could go into all the illogical ideas about Las Nevadas, such as open to all but not, pay a toll to get here, free to live and leave but sign your soul to me, and we welcome everyone but omfg why are you all here leave my home alone. We could go into the tortured soul of Quackity, but the focus is right now on why Tubbo's Outpost and wall created a more extensive argument and reaction than Wilbur and Tommy's blatant threat ever did.

When Quackity first saw and mentioned the Outpost, the walls were not as long; they stayed pretty close to the building itself. However, even when he was told this place might've been a Cookie shop, he didn't fully believe it. His mind immediately went to threat and annoyance. This is probably due to the interaction with Wilbur. His reaction would probably have been the same if anyone had built it there. It is close to his land, and he doesn't know why it's there. When it's mentioned to be Tubbo's property, his worries are not immediately erased; instead, he almost doubles down in the idea that Tubbo is threatening him. He sees the bridge and is even more enraged by it. He builds a toll as a way to deter Tubbo from crossing into his land. Then Quackity, Slime and Fundy go to the Outpost to snoop, finding ordinary building materials along with gunpowder and two totems, leading to Quackity to double down in his fear that Tubbo wants to destroy this happiness he's cultivated. They then grief the place to threaten Tubbo and show Tubbo that they will not stand for threats.

Overall, from Quackity's perspective, Outpost = Threat

But at the end of the day, Quackity's knowledge of the Outpost is that it is a Cookie Shop. That has all that's been shown to him. That is all his character canonically knows, and even though it looks imposing to him, he shouldn't fear a cookie post. To him, Tubbo is a good kid, so why has he jumped and stuck to the narrative that the place is a threat, that the cookie shop will destroy his happiness?

Now Tubbo built the Outpost as a passive observation base. Therefore technically, the Cookie Outpost is passive, but Quackity places the idea that this place is a threat to the minds of Las Nevadas citizens and creates the idea that this building is a threat to their country. Regardless of whether it was a place for the Snowchester leader to spy, it was still a passive building where Tubbo did not want to attack anyone or anything. Spying does not equal threat. So again, Quackity is the one to impose the idea of a threat upon Las Nevadas, not Tubbo.

So now this Outpost exists in two states, and that's where the conflict is arising.

4. That's Not Fair: Why wouldn't Tubbo try and compromise?

Short answer, he did try.

Tubbo tried to compromise. Tubbo could see where Quackity was coming from; he understood and said to Quackity he understood and tried to explain that he wasn't attacking Las Nevadas. Tubbo said that was as close as he was going to get with the walls, but Quackity was the one who ignored him and didn't believe him.

Whilst the walls started as defensive, they were now mainly used to discern from what was Tubbo's land and what wasn't, which is why Tubbo didn't want to give up the new wall. So instead, he tried to mark out and defend his farm, in line with Cookie Outpost, which meant walls.

The solutions Quackity offers are all offers that benefited Las Nevadas and his plans, not his new neighbour Tubbo. Tubbo didn't understand why Quackity came in so aggressively so suddenly. The last they spoke, they at least left on civil terms, and both said they considered each other a friend, yet Quackity does not believe what Tubbo is telling him, doesn't believe that Tubbo doesn't want to harm him. Tubbo is also a bit annoyed by the fact that the solutions all take a hit to him when in his eyes, he didn't even build on Las Nevadas property and didn't even know of future plans Quackity supposedly had for Las Nevadas.

Eventually, Tubbo agrees to take down the wall if they come up with boundaries to the land to know what is his and what is Las Nevadas. He suggests the natural border of the river as that was what he was following anyway. He also offers it as it keeps the place looking nice since Quackity initially said the issue was how imposing the wall was to his nation.

This is a compromise. Tubbo and Quackity both get the things they want as the cost of the wall, the issue at hand. But Quackity and Las Nevadas say no to this proposal, and once again, they are running around in circles.

Other compromises were proposed, but again, most of them suited Quackity over Tubbo and therefore were more of a relinquish of power than a compromise. The solution Tubbo gave was one in which there wouldn't be a power imbalance between the two nations and would have left both on equal footing. But Quackity said no because he needs Tubbo below him power-wise.

Like Tubbo with his walls to protect what he loves, Quackity wishes to preserve his happiness and joy through control. He needs to control the situation, the environment and the people around him so that they do not say or do anything to jeopardise the life he has created. He cannot have Tubbo in an equal position to him, and therefore all solutions Quackity offers leave Tubbo below him.

So Tubbo did try and compromise, he just wasn't going to take a solution that didn't leave him, and Quackity equal, much like Quackity wasn't going to take a solution that didn't leave him above Tubbo.

5. You Started It So I Am Finishing It: Why did Tubbo instigate and threaten violence?

Short answer, he wasn't the instigator.

Whilst Tubbo was a bit rude and inconsiderate, the first instigation and threat of violence came from Quackity's side.

As mentioned before, upon first viewing Tubbo's place with Slime and Fundy, Quackity decides to send a message to Tubbo not to threaten them by essentially threatening Tubbo himself. They trash the site and leave it in ruin. This is the first act of aggression. There is also the fact that Quackity was willing to take things further by stealing Tubbo's totems, and if it had not been for Fundy suggesting that he was going too far, he probably would have taken them.

At this stage, Quackity and Tubbo have not spoken, have not adequately interacted for months. Quackity grief's the place without even asking Tubbo what he's doing, without talking things through with Tubbo. Quackity said he would ask him what was happening and whether this place was a threat but then proceeded to treat it as a threat and grief the place to send a message to Tubbo.

Ranboo then cleans the place up, placing signs to reinforce the idea that it's a cookie shop. This hides the altercation from Tubbo and ultimately makes Quackity's next more seem even more aggressive and over the top than before.

In Tubbo's eyes, this has come out of nowhere, whilst Quackity feels he is pre-empting an inevitable that he had no guarantee on.

It isn't until things start to get a bit heated that Quackity decides to try and talk things out with Tubbo. Until this moment, Tubbo had been working on the defensive. Even when he hadn't realised Quackity had threatened him before. Tubbo's Outpost and stance in this situation had always been defensive and passive until Quackity started to push at Tubbo.

Tubbo's threat of the nukes came after all the negotiations and arguing and directly responded to the energy Quackity was giving Tubbo. Tubbo wasn't the first to push, it was Quackity, and Tubbo just pushed back and essentially told Quackity, do not underestimate me.

Tubbo doesn't want to use the nukes; that was not the point of Snowchester's nukes. He doesn't want to destroy anything; it is just to make sure people do not destroy his things. Tubbo, although more feral than the feral boys, does not crave violence; like Quackity (or at least before Quackity enjoyed torturing Dream), he wishes for a peaceful place where he can work on his projects; his end goal isn't destruction.

Tubbo pulling the nuke card was not an attack, but a defensive response to everything Quackity had put on the table.

It felt like an extreme response, but Tubbo has seen how far Quackity goes with things and how hard Quackity is willing to fight for what he wants. So Tubbo needed to shock Quackity and remind Quackity that they are equals, they are equal in power and that should he forget, Tubbo will happily remind him.

Overall. Tubbo did not instigate but react.

Both parties threatened each other, but it was Quackity who threw the first punch.

6. Conclusion: The World Is Wide Enough.

The issue with Quackity and Tubbo is more about the relationship and their perception than the building itself.

In posts before, I talked about how one of the significant communicative issues between Tubbo and Quackity is their inability to understand how they view things differently, even after all their shared trauma.

Quackity and Tubbo went through Schlatt's administration together and in close quarters with Schlatt. They both left with similar, albeit not the same, trauma as a result. However, their experiences with Schlatt left them both with different outlooks on life. They approach things differently, want and desire other things in life, and, throughout the exile arc, constantly found themselves at odds in opinion. If you ever wanted a trope of friends to enemies through misunderstandings, much like Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, Quackity and Tubbo are your guys.

They both struggle with the idea that the world is big enough for them, especially Quackity. There is a constant struggle between Quackity and Tubbo with who takes the lead and who is in charge. Now that they aren't forced on the same team, they've again found themselves at this impasse. But this time, neither is backing down because neither has to. They don't have to put aside their differences for the good of a country anymore. This time they are fighting for each their nation and ideals.

Tubbo often let Quackity persuade him with passionate speeches. But, this time, Tubbo is not allowing Quackity to have his way, whilst Quackity is not used to Tubbo digging his heels in the ground so much. Quackity does not want to settle for less; he's done that in the past, but he has missed the compromises being offered in refusing to let a little go. His paranoia that his happiness and all he's created will crumble away, much like past projects have toe lead him to view everyone as a threat. And it's funny how the very same fear from Tubbo, building those walls to protect his happiness, broke the last straw for Quackity, causing this argument to spiral and ball.

Both are in the wrong, and both are in the right. Still, personally, Quackity's refusal in this new life for total control, which influenced the negotiating, probably had a more significant impact than just giving Tubbo the natural border. Quackity makes it out like he doesn't want complete control, but he rejected it and presented arguments that left Tubbo worse off when offered an equal footing solution. Quackity is someone who wants to stay above Tubbo and therefore hold more of the control. Suppose he continues to maintain that stance in his mind while negotiating. In that case, he will never find a solution other than obliterating the competition because Tubbo will not stand for less than equal.

The fractures in Tubbo and Quackity's relationship came long before this altercation, but it seems as though this might be the thing to pull them apart finally. Of course, the only viable solution is for both parties to leave on equal footing, but Quackity struggles with that idea, and Tubbo won't settle for less.

92 notes · View notes

kikis-writing-world · 4 years ago

Text

30 Days

Summary: Frankie’s license is suspended, meaning he has no job until it’s sorted. Money is getting tight and the baby is on the way. Set a few months before Triple Frontier.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Rating/Warnings: Mentions of Addition (Frankie is going to NA meetings for the coke problem,) pregnancy, swearing. Angsty but like... in a “you know it’ll be okay” kind of way? Unedited, unbeta-ed etc.

A/N: This is very loosely based on the song Pink Hotel by The Glorious Sons. I wouldn’t call it a song fic, but it was inspired by it for sure. Just a late night drabble.

All this money’s just paper baby, all these bills are just the same In the end the only reason for this house is to keep dry from the rain When all your problems are self-made, what you got to worry about? Dry your eyes we’ve been spoiled rotten, it ain’t hard to figure out

Frankie opened the front door carefully, trying to stop the old thing from creaking. It was on his list of things he needed to work on, but he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Having his license suspended meant he had more time for all the projects around the aging house, but it also meant not enough money to afford the supplies he needed to do said projects.

He hoped you would be sleeping by the time he got back from his meeting. You needed your rest and he knew you hadn’t been sleeping well lately. He knew that because he hadn’t been sleeping well either. The stress of losing his job, however temporary it may be, was keeping the both of you up at night.

He could see a light on around the corner and knew you were up. You wouldn’t have gone to bed leaving the light on. You were a stickler for it even before money was tight. He cursed under his breath as he hung up his jacket, less worried now about making too much noise. He toed off his shoes, but kept his hat on as always.

“I’m home, mi alma.” He called as he followed the light into the kitchen.

You were sitting at the small, stained dining table, looking over various papers. Without looking too closely he knew what they were. Bills, bank statements, job posting. Your left hand rested on your stomach, thumb running over the growing bump under your cotton night shirt.

“Hey baby,” you looked up at him with tired eyes. “How was your meeting?”

“Good.” He kissed you on the top of the head before sitting in the mismatched dining chair next to you. “How’s she doing?”

“Okay. A little restless tonight, but she’s not kicking my bladder so I’ll take it.” You joked with a tired laugh.

He smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He still held so much guilt for the position you all were in now. The papers on the table reminding him of what a screw up he was. He stopped himself from apologizing, knowing that you’d tell him to stop. He’d apologized more times than he could count already, but it never felt like enough.

He pulled off his hat, fixing his hair before resettling it on top of his head. Seeing him getting lost in his thoughts, his eyes fading out of focus and filling with the guilt he carried like a second skin, you took his hand in yours and placed it on your belly. You held his hand right where the movement of your daughter was, like she was doing summersaults inside you.

Frankie perked up, his eyes returning to focus, his smile finally lighting up his face properly. “You weren’t joking.”

You chuckled in response. You were thankful that the baby could always snap him back to himself, especially when you didn’t have the words to do it. It was a lot of pressure to put on a baby that wasn’t even born yet, but right now she was the glue holding your lives together. You hoped it would be enough to make it through this rough patch. Just until you and Frankie had a better hold on your lives and could hold it together yourselves.

“I got something.” Frankie spoke, his voice quiet. With his hand still on your stomach, he pulled something out of his jeans and set it on the table. A little orange disk with the number 30 on it. “My 30 days.”

“Baby, I’m so proud of you.” You gushed, holding your arms out for him. You would have leaned over and pulled him into you yourself had the baby bump not been in the way. Frankie grinned bashfully and leaned forward, letting you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss.

“It’s nothing-”

“It’s not nothing.” You cut him off. “I know it isn’t easy.”

“It should be.” He scoffed, sitting back in his chair.

“Don’t start that.” You scolded.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. It should be easy for him to not use. It should be easy for him to hold down a job so the two of you could pay bills, fix up the house, save for the baby. He felt like a shitty partner, and a shitty father for letting his addiction get this far. He wanted to apologize again, but didn’t want to upset you any further.

“I’m sorry,” he said anyways. You raised an eyebrow at him so he clarified, “for saying that.”

“Good.” You nodded.

He looked over the papers on the table, wondering how long you’d been staring at them. He already knew no amount of balancing would make the columns match up. More was owing than you had, than was coming in, and the baby wasn’t going to wait for a plushy nest egg to land on. His army pension was next to nothing. You were still working - which he hated, but it was necessary at this point - but wouldn’t be able to for much longer. After that...

He pushed all the papers together onto one side of the table, effectively deciding neither of you were going to think about them for the rest of the night.

He stood, holding his hand out for you. “C’mon.”

You took his hand, using his help to stand. You could still stand on your own at this point, but it was a bit of a spectacle. You expected him to pull you into your bedroom to go to bed for the night, but instead he pulled you close - as close as you could get with the baby between you - and wrapped his arms around you.

You smiled, returning the hug. He was more affectionate with you lately, and you knew it was making up for his mistakes. You didn’t expect him to start humming and swaying the two of you. You turned in his hold so that you could rest your head against his shoulder. You closed your eyes as his voice vibrated through his chest. You could feel it vibrating in your own ribs and you wondered if the baby felt it too. You didn’t recognize the song, but that was okay.

He kept one arm around you, the other hand resting on your belly. He rested his chin on top of your head as the two of you danced in the kitchen. For a moment, the stress melted away.

“We’ll be okay.” He stopped humming to whisper into the quiet room.

“I know, baby.” You answered, whispering back to him.

He lifted his head from yours, leaning back so he could meet your eyes. “Do you?”

You swallowed hard, trying to force back the emotions swirling inside you. With the hormones going wild in your body, you didn’t stand a chance. “No.” You admitted, voice hoarse.

“I’ll figure it out.” He promised, cupping your cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”

“How?” You cried.

He sighed, knowing he didn’t have the answers yet. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and wiped away the tear that slipped from your eyes.

“Everything I care about in this world is in my arms.” He told you. “You and the baby. I don’t give a shit about the rest. This house is here to keep us dry from the rain, but I don’t give a fuck otherwise. We can live anywhere as long as we’re together. We can sell the house, the truck, all of it. We’ll figure it out.”

You nodded tearfully, agreeing with him.

“As long as we’re together, we’ll figure out the rest.”

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @thisisthe-wayson

#Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales drabble #Frankie Morales imagine #Frankie Morales #Frankie Catfish Morales #Triple Frontier fic #Triple Frontier drabble #Triple Frontier imagine #WookieTales #Frankie Morales fic #Frankie Morales fanfiction

168 notes · View notes

kpophours · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Night (M)

➵ Stray Kids: Bang Chan x fem. reader / one shot, college AU, camping trip AU / fluff, smut / REQUESTED

➵ warnings: slight cursing, explicit mentions of sex (slight public teasing, orgasm denial, oral: receiving, slight choking)

➵ word count: 6k (lol oops)

a/n: after a few anon requests/inquiries, I decided to write this one shot as the second part to Way to You - you can absolutely read this on its own though.

I’M WALKING ON SUNSHINE, OOOOOOH! I’M WALKING ON-

Your eyes fly open as soon as the song starts blaring from somewhere beside you, and you blindly fumble for the alarm clock, thankfully managing to find the off-switch quite quickly. This very annoying clock was a horrible yet also kinda thoughtful birthday gift from Chan’s roommates, as it’s quite possibly the loudest one on the market, meaning it is able to wake literally anyone. It could probably even wake Dracula from his deep slumber in the depths of his castle somewhere in Romania. And while Chan might not be a vampire, he isn’t one to wake easily either, so this extremely loud alarm clock was the only solution your friends had been able to come up with. Which sadly means you experience something close to a heart attack every morning - or well, at least a few times a week, as you do still spend some nights at the apartment you share with Jisung.

You fall back into the pillows, heart still racing from the sudden noise. Pale sunlight filters through the curtains and into the otherwise dark room. You groan, blinking against the rays of light hitting you straight in the face, and turn around to cuddle into your boyfriend’s broad back. He hums, only half-awake himself, and turns around to wrap both arms around you, leaving a lazy kiss on your forehead.

Suddenly, there’s a crash from somewhere in the house, and you jump. Chan sighs deeply, and murmurs “Hyunjin, probably.” under his breath - it’s no secret that his roommate is a walking disaster. You don’t answer, only pressing a soft kiss on his naked chest. “How’d you sleep?”, he asks, one hand beginning to trace gentle patterns on your bare back. “Like a rock - which was exactly what I needed after my midterms.”, you answer, and he nods. “You more than deserved that, babe. I’m really proud of you, by the way. I’m sure you aced all your exams.”, he says, and you can’t help but smile at his sweet words. You look up at him, gently cupping his cheek, and kiss him. He basically melts against you, pulling you even closer towards him, and bites down on your lower lip to slide his tongue into your mouth. Before this can end in a steamy morning make-out session, there’s a knock on Chan’s door. He groans and draws back from you, expression grumpy. “What?”, he then yells, shooting daggers towards his door. “Just wanted to make sure you’re up, we’re supposed to be leaving in an hour!”, Felix answers, sounding way too cheerful so early in the morning. “Ugh, I hate morning people. Just once I want to get up in the morning without having to go through the seven stages of grief first.”, you mumble, your warm breath tickling Chan’s neck and making him giggle and wiggle away from you. “Yeah, we’re up!”, he quickly answers Felix, who shuffles away from the door, before turning towards you again, “Wait, aren’t there only five stages of grief? What are your extra two?” “Denial part two and astral projection.”, you answer, and Chan laughs before giving you a soft smile, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

“Breakfast?”, he then asks, and you nod. “Absolutely. I need coffee, and lots of it.”, you agree, and he rolls his eyes. “I swear, by now there’s definitely coffee running through your veins instead of blood.”, Chan mumbles, before jumping out of bed to grab his underwear from the floor. You just chuckle and follow him, but can’t seem to find your bra anywhere. “What the Hell…”, you mumble under your breath, twirling around once in a desperate attempt to locate it. “Uh. Looking for this?”, Chan asks and you follow his gaze. You both burst into loud laughter when you spot your bra happily dangling from the ceiling light. “Well, we had to be very fast yesterday evening. Clothes went flying, and quite literally it seems.”, you say, lips twitching while you stand on your tiptoes to get your bra, and Chan nods in agreement. “Very fast indeed - but we couldn’t let the others begin the movie night without us! We had valid reasons.” He grins and wraps both arms around your waist to pull you close to him again, giving you a quick peck on the lips. When you want to deepen the kiss, he draws back again, expression stern. “No time for that, we have to get ready, eat breakfast and you still need to pack some of your stuff before we can leave. And we don’t want to let the others wait, right?” You sigh and pout. “No, we don’t, apparently.”, you just answer, and wiggle into your jeans and turtleneck, finally ready to leave the privacy of Chan’s room and get something to eat.

The scent of fresh coffee and pancakes greets you when you arrive downstairs, and you inhale deeply. Felix is standing in front of the stove, humming a soft tune under his breath while working on making the tower of pancakes beside him even taller. He turns around when you enter the kitchen, giving you his signature sunshine smile. “Morning, Y/N.”, he greets you, “Slept well?” You nod and peek over his shoulder. “Yup. And have I ever told you how much I love you?”, you ask, stealing a piece of pancake directly out of the pan, and Felix tries to swat your hand away before he chuckles. “Shouldn’t you say that to Chan, not to me?”, he replies, and your boyfriend, just entering the kitchen behind you, sighs deeply. “She’s an opportunist, meaning she’ll tell anyone she loves them if it means she gets what she wants, so beware. I actually rarely hear her say it to me.”, Chan says warningly, and you shoot him a dark look. “Oh shut up, that’s so not true. I tell you I love you at least once or twice a day, you needy baby.”, you grumble, and just then, Minho joins the small kitchen party. “Needy baby? You’re not talking about Hyunjin, are you?”, he asks, ruffling his crazy bed hair while filling a mug with coffee, sighing contently when he takes the first sip. You grin and shake your head, before taking a mug out of the cabinet yourself.

Said roommate also enters the kitchen just then, face looking quite puffy. You raise both eyebrows. “Did you cry yourself to sleep last night?”, you ask, and take a sip of coffee to hide your shit-eating grin. Hyunjin throws you a dark glare, and crosses both arms in front of his chest. “No. But I did have a slight mental breakdown after realizing I probably failed my last exam yesterday, so I decided to treat myself to some late-night-ramen, and now I look like this.”, he points at his face, beginning to pout, “God just hates pretty people, he’s clearly punishing me for my dashing looks.” “Or maybe he just doesn’t like narcissists.”, Jeongin offers when he enters the kitchen, shoving Minho out of the way to get to the kitchen cabinet almost overflowing with mugs. You decide it’s finally getting too crowded in the kitchen, and leave it again. You’re absolutely not a morning person, and can’t deal with the boys’ constant bickering without having experienced the positive effect of the caffeine you’re currently consuming.

Seungmin is sitting on one of the sofas, currently scrolling through Instagram and apparently trying to like every cute puppy pic in existence. “Morning.”, you greet him and take a seat beside him, peeking over his shoulder and cooing at an extremely cute baby golden retriever. Seungmin just greets you with a curt nod of his head, not being a morning person either, and keeps scrolling. Minutes later, Felix enters the living room, balancing a giant plate of fresh pancakes in front of him while all the other boys follow him like stray dogs. “What would you guys even do without Felix cooking for you all the time?”, you ask, mouth watering when you inhale the delicious smell. “Starve and die.”, Seungmin deadpans, while Jeongin answers: “We’d have to look at Hyunjin’s ugly bloated face every day because we’d solely live off ramen.” Hyunjin hits the back of his head for that, but the younger boy just shoots him his cheshire cat grin. “I mean, I could cook too, I guess.”, Chan says, frowning, and everyone bursts into loud laughter. “Wow okay, I’ll try not to take this personally…”, your boyfriend grumbles, and sits down at the dining table. You slide onto the chair next to him, and pat his thigh affectionately. “I love you, babe, but you literally didn’t know how to whisk eggs when we wanted to bake cookies last week.”, you say, and Chan sighs. “That’s... sadly fair. But I could learn!”

“No offense, but we actually like our kitchen intact - thanks for your humble offering though. If Felix should die unexpectedly, we might get back to you.”, Minho answers, and before the situation can escalate into a playful bickering battle, Felix yells “SO, WHO WANTS PANCAKES?!”, successfully managing to distract everyone.

One and a half hours later, everyone is packed and ready to go - you’ve planned this little getaway for almost two months now, everyone having finished their first round of exams at this time of year and being able to just relax for a bit. For some reason, the boys had wanted to go camping, and as you, Jisung’s girlfriend Lina and Hyunjin’s girlfriend Marie were clearly outnumbered by the boys, you hadn’t really had the chance to disagree with them. But you honestly don’t even mind, having gone camping lots of times already and just being happy to enjoy some time with your closest friends. Only Changbin won’t be able to join you guys, as he’s currently doing an internship and wasn’t able to request some time off.

Chan is just about to lock the front door to the frat house, when Jeongin zooms past you, yelling for his older roommate to wait. “I forgot something extremely important!”, he explains, almost breathless, and disappears into the house again. “What’s he getting now?”, your boyfriend wonders, and shoots you a questioning gaze. You just shrug, and let your bag fall to the ground, too lazy to hold onto it while waiting for the youngest of your group. A few minutes later, Jeongin comes back, a huge grin on his face and a giant stuffed animal in his arms. Chan blinks a few times, and opens his mouth to say something, but he gets cut off by the younger boy: “You guys can cuddle with each other, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than cuddle with Minho, Felix or Seungmin, whoever I’ll end up sharing a tent with. But I do wanna cuddle with someone, so Mr. Sunshine it is.”, he explains stoically, and you just nod in support. “I totally get that, plus I wouldn’t be too sure that Minho doesn’t just turn into a bat or something like that during the night. He’s at least part demon, we all know that.”, you say, and Jeongin giggles.

You’re truly prepared to give him anything whenever he smiles at you like this, his eyes almost disappearing, teeth almost blindingly bright. While you detain from squishing his cheeks, you do poke the dimple on his left one, being too endeared by him. He swats your hand away, of course he does, but you still bask in the victory of having poked his cheek. One thing to cross off your to-do-list for today.

“Okay, let’s go to the others.”, Chan finally says after locking the house, and without you having to say anything, he takes his and your bag and walks over to where the others are waiting beside the cars. Chivalry is not dead and you’re ready to swoon over your amazing boyfriend. “Okay, we still have to pick up Jisung, Lina and Marie.”, Chan says after he’s put your bags into the trunk of his car, “So, who’s gonna ride in which car?” “Well I obviously want to ride with Marie.”, Hyunjin says, a goofy smile on his face - they have been together for almost a year now, but he’s still very much extremely whipped for her, but luckily, she seems to feel the exact same way -, and Minho murmurs a sarcastic “Shocking, really.” under his breath. “I want Jisung and Lina in our car.”, you quickly say, and Chan gives you a short nod. Of course you’d say that - Jisung is your best friend after all, and you’ve grown quite close to Lina as well. You’re also good friends with Marie, but Jisung just wins this round - not that you’d ever tell that to his face, he’s too cocky as it is, no need to push his ego even more. “Then Minho, you take Hyunjin, Marie, Felix and Seungmin, and I take Y/N, Jisung, Lina and Jeongin, okay?”, Chan suggests, and everyone agrees. Five minutes later, all the bags are safely stored away and everyone has taken their seats. Being Chan’s girlfriend means you get to ride shotgun, something you’re more than thankful for, knowing how crowded the backseat is going to be once you’ve picked up Jisung and Lina. “See you in a bit!”, Felix yells through his open window, and flashes you his extremely cute gummy smile. You wave at him, immediately returning his smile, and successfully ignore Minho’s mock salute and cocky grin while he backs out of his parking spot, almost cutting Chan off.

Twenty minutes later, Jisung and Lina are squished into the backseat with Jeongin, all three having bright smiles on their faces. “Road trip, whoop!”, Jisung yells and gives you a high five, “Happy to have a few days with y’all before we have to face the sad reality of probably having failed most of our exams!” Lina beside him rolls her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic, I’m sure most of us will have aced everything.”, she says, and Jisung wraps his arm around her and kisses her temple. “Sorry, but I have literally only one functioning brain cell and I use it to overthink.”, he explains, yelping when she playfully tickles his side. You chuckle at their bickering, and hit play on your road trip playlist - a second later, Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody fills the car, all of you immediately beginning to sing along. “LET’S GO!”, Chan yells over the sad attempts of everyone trying to imitate Freddy Mercury, and backs out of the parking lot. You smile and interlace your fingers with his. He cheekily returns your smile, and raises your intertwined hands to his lips to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. Over a year of being with him, but you still swoon over this simple yet sweet gesture. Yes, you’re just that whipped for your boyfriend, and what about it.

It doesn’t take long for you guys to arrive on the interstate, you and Jisung trying to trump each other's impressions of Beyoncé singing Single Ladies (and failing miserably, sorry Queen B). Your belly almost hurts from laughing with your friends, and you can’t wait for the rest of the weekend to begin.

Minho’s car arrives before Chan’s, and of course he’s gloating about it the second you guys join forces again. But you can let him have this small victory, and decide to just ignore him for now, helping Chan get the bags out of his car and to the campsite. It’s quite cold, the air crisp now that the sun is slowly beginning to set again, but you brought lots of blankets and sleeping bags, so you should be fine. And at least the weather means there aren’t any other campers here right now, so you have the whole area, including the washing rooms, to yourselves, which is nice.

Setting up camp takes longer than anticipated, mostly because Jisung somehow manages to crash into his and Lina’s almost finished tent twice, which means they have to start from the very beginning again. She truly has the patience of a saint, simply smacking him over the head rather playfully before picking up the sad remains of their tent to begin the whole building process again. Chan and you, having gone camping lots of times already, are quickest with finishing your tent, so afterwards you offer to help Jisung and Lina with theirs, while Chan does the same for Minho and Jeongin. Marie, an experienced scout, has set up hers and Hyunjin’s tent in record time as well, and takes pity on Felix and Seungmin, quickly building the tent for them. After an hour, your camp has successfully been built, and everyone begins to search for firewood.

Felix decides to make a giant pot of spicy chili sin carne for tonight’s dinner, and as soon as all the plates are filled, your conversations slowly dwindle down, everyone too busy with eating. “Lix, you’re a cooking genius, Gordon Ramsey found jobless.”, Marie says around a mouthful of chili, giving the blonde boy a bright smile and the thumbs up. He waves her compliment aside, blushing profoundly. “Thanks, but it’s honestly not that difficult - you just have to follow the recipe, if you’re too scared to improvise.”, he murmurs, and she throws a small piece of kindling at him. “You should really learn how to take compliments.”, she teases playfully, and he shrugs. “Okay, okay, I’m the best cook ever.”, he says sarcastically, and Minho raises one eyebrow. “Whoa, now don’t get ahead of yourself.”, he replies, and Felix smacks him over the head. “You can’t cook at all, so for once, you should just stay quiet.”, you say, and Minho sighs dramatically. “What can I say… We all have our weaknesses. I, for example, am extremely good-looking and tragically funny.”

You almost choke on your chili because of his audacity, and lift your fork in front of your face, staring through it and at Minho, who just frowns at you. “What are you doing? Why are you looking at me through your fork?”, he asks, obviously confused by your behavior, and you give him a lopsided smile. “I’m pretending you’re in jail, it’s spiritually healing.”, you explain, and Chan beside you bursts into laughter, the others following him quickly. Minho begins to pout and sticks out his tongue at you, always the mature one. “It’s okay if you don’t enjoy my dashing looks and hilarious humor, not everyone has good taste. That’s why you picked Chan over me after all.”, he claims, and you answer by throwing a piece of wood his way, making him squeal and dive for cover. Just then, the flames of your fire flicker and slowly begin to die down. Seungmin, Jeongin and Hyunjin stand up to go get some more firewood, but somehow, the latter one’s shoe gets caught between two logs and with a loud yelp, he tumbles to the ground. “What the Hell is he doing?!”, Chan groans, and Jeongin deadpans “Sadly his best.”, before he begins walking over towards his friend to help him, but Marie is faster, already dragging her boyfriend up from the ground with tears of laughter in her eyes. Hyunjin’s cheeks are red from embarrassment and he murmurs something about nature being out to get him, before he, Marie and the other two boys disappear into the forest to get more firewood.

The rest of the evening is filled with playful banter, soft guitar music from Jisung, and funny childhood stories. Lina soon begins to nod off, her head resting on her boyfriend’s shoulder while he continues to strum a soft tune on his guitar, humming along. When he notices his girlfriend is about to wander into Morpheus’ realm though, he’s quick to place the guitar back into its bag, and wraps both arms around her. “I think it’s time for us to retire, huh?”, he says, leaving a gentle kiss on Lina’s forehead. She blinks sleepily, and smiles up at him. “It’s pretty safe to assume that at any given moment, I want to go back to sleep - so yes, I agree, time to retire.”, she answers, and Jisung chuckles, before standing up to declare: “Well, we’re off to bed now!” Minho and Seungmin boo immediately, while Jeongin murmurs something like “Old people” under his breath - even though he’s literally only one year younger than most of you guys.

“So, as I’m legally required to kiss my homies goodnight, y’all getting some smooches!”, Jisung says, already walking towards where Hyunjin and Marie are sitting, bodies entangled and breaths mingling. Hyunjin looks up and shoots his friend a murderous look. “I swear, if you kiss me, I’m going to dump you into the river.”, he threatens, but Jisung just grins. “How about you dump your girlfriend instead and run away with me? We’d make such a pretty couple.”, he says, making Hyunjin roll his eyes. “Bro, no offense, but I’d be the pretty one in this relationship, and while everyone can clearly see you already have quite the experience being the ugly one in a relationship” with that, Hyunjin first points at Jisung and then at Lina, who bursts out laughing, “I don’t think I’m ready to hear your constant whining about my face being prettier than yours. So thanks, but no thanks, I’ll stay with Marie.” “Wow, I feel so honored and loved right now, babe.”, Marie says sarcastically, “But does this mean you think you’re the pretty one in this relationship as well?” Hyunjin goes into instant panic mode, quickly reassuring his girlfriend that she’s far prettier than him, while she tries to keep a stern expression on her face, but everyone can clearly see the way her lips twitch. She just loves teasing Hyunjin, and you honestly can’t blame her for that, especially not when it’s just so easy.

“Okay, goodnight, then!”, Lina interrupts their playful bickering, and gives everyone a soft smile, before dragging Jisung towards their tent. Everyone wishes them a good night and sweet dreams as well, and then Seungmin clears his throat. “Time for some ghost stories, don’t you think?”, he says, voice low and grin almost evil when his eyes find Hyunjin, who immediately falls silent. Everyone knows he’s a huge scaredy cat, which is quite funny seeing as his own girlfriend is a big fan of horror movies and stories. Truly a match made in Heaven. Seungmin just raises one eyebrow, expression challenging - but when no one contradicts him, he begins to tell his first ghost story.

It doesn’t take long until Hyunjin is pretty much sitting on Marie’s lap, shooting daggers at his friend while his girlfriend is trying very hard not to laugh at him. You yourself cuddle closer to your own boyfriend, smiling when he presses a soft kiss against your temple. Your eyes rest on the big bonfire, following some sparks drifting into the dark night sky from time to time, and you sigh contently. This, right here, is your happy place - in the midst of your friends, just laughing and joking with them, not a care in the world. Midterms lie behind you, and you’re currently not even thinking about your grades for once, your anxiety at rest. This trip was truly a great idea, maybe even Jisung’s best one so far.

“Okay, wanna hear a really creepy one-”, Seungmin begins, and Hyunjin has finally had enough, standing up and taking Marie’s hand into his. “Well, goodnight!”, he says, a determined expression on his face, and pulls his girlfriend towards their tent. Marie suppresses an amused smile at her boyfriend’s dramatics, and waves at everyone, before following him inside the tent. Seungmin just grins evilly and shrugs. “He’s so soft hearted.”, he then says, and leans back, obviously content with his work. “Okay, maybe it’s three demons, not only two.”, you murmur into Chan’s ear, and he chuckles. You’re always joking about Minho and Hyunjin being demons, as they’re constantly testing your nerves by just being themselves, plus they were definitely the main plotters behind the plan to get you and Chan together - not that you’re complaining about it as their plan had worked pretty perfectly and in your favor. “In the end you’ll probably find that I live with six demons.”, your boyfriend murmurs, and begins to play with your fingers. You shake your head. “Oh no, Felix is definitely an angel, not a demon.”, you disagree, and Chan nods. “Okay, that’s true. The others though… Well, time will tell, I guess.” “Or holy water.” He just laughs and gives you a quick peck on the lips. When you want to deepen the kiss, he draws back. “Later.”, he murmurs against your lips, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, and you shiver involuntarily. He grins at your reaction, before turning his attention to Seungmin’s new ghost story again.

You on the other hand feel hot and bothered all of the sudden, and decide to tease your boyfriend a bit. So you place your hand on his thigh, not moving it for some time, until you slowly slide it higher, bit by bit. At first, Chan doesn’t seem to notice or care, until you’re getting dangerously close to his crotch. Then, he quickly leans forward so the others can’t see what you’re doing, and glares at you. “What are you doing?”, he asks, voice low, and you smile innocently. “Nothing.”, you answer, and have finally reached your desired destination, slowly beginning to palm his semi over his jeans. “How about you be a good girl and stop?”, he breathes out, but you know he doesn’t actually want you to stop - you know him well enough for that by now. Still, you decide to play along. “Oh, I’ll gladly be your good girl.”, you whisper, and quickly withdraw your hand. He groans at your words and the sudden lack of contact, and locks eyes with you. “Tent. Now.”, he grits out, and stands up, pulling you with him and hugging you from behind so your body hides his erection from the others. “We’re tired too, so goodnight!”, he says in a fake cheerful voice, and you have to hide your shit-eating grin while innocently waving at the others. “Oh you’re in so much trouble now, babe.”, Chan murmurs into your ear while you walk towards your tent, and bites down on your lobe. You feel arousal gather between your legs, stomach jolting at his words. You and Chan have a very playful relationship, full of bantering and loving jokes, and your dynamic in the bedroom isn’t that different - there’s a lot of bickering too, you being a total brat at times, while he’s more on the dominant side, enjoying making you obedient.

As soon as he closes the tent behind you and turns around to watch you with an almost predatory gaze, you know you might have been a bit too forward at the bonfire. But it’s too late to back down now, so you simply raise both eyebrows, a challenging expression on your face. “So you think touching me like that in front of our friends is okay?”, Chan asks, his voice low and dark. You tilt your head to one side. “I mean, you didn’t seem opposed to it, to be honest.”, you answer, and now he’s the one to lift both eyebrows. “I want you out of your clothes, now.”, your boyfriend orders, and for once, you follow his command immediately, knowing this is for your own good this time. So you quickly wiggle out of your jeans and take off your jumper, shivering in the cold night air. Only left in your panties and bra, Chan smirks to himself, before crawling over your body and beginning to kiss you slowly. You gasp into his mouth when one of his warm hands finds your waist, drawing lazy circles against it, before traveling higher to cup your breast over your bra. His thumb rubs over your clothed nipple before pinching it, hard, and you arch your back, breath hitching.

“So, let’s see how quiet you can stay while I eat you out, hm? Remember, the walls of the tent are too thin to mask any noises.”, Chan whispers against your lips, before he suddenly descends down your body. Oh no, you know you’re screwed. He’ll try to make you scream his name, but while you’re quite open about sex and have no problem talking about it with your friends, you definitely don’t need them to hear you during the actual act. Maybe you shouldn’t have teased your boyfriend after all - but it’s too late now, he’s determined. He spreads your legs, and begins to leave soft love bites on the inside of your thighs. You’re trembling already, and it’s not because of the cold alone. Chan always has this effect on you, no matter how often he touches you - you’ll never get used to it. He plays with the hem of your panties, until he finally drags them down your legs, his warm breath hitting your wet core. You begin to squirm, impatient to have him finally touch you where you need him most. He smacks your thigh, the crack resounding through the tent, and you yelp. “Chan.”, you hiss, and he grins cheekily, before suddenly pressing his thumb to your clit, beginning to draw lazy circles against it. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you clamp one hand over your mouth to mask any noises.

Chan soon replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking on your clit like his life depends on it while simultaneously sliding two fingers inside your heat. A loud moan tears from your lips and you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to stifle your noises but already failing miserably. You feel Chan smirk against you, and then, he slips a third finger inside you, curling them upwards and picking up the pace. You buck your hips against his gentle ministrations, skin feeling too hot and too tight already, goosebumps rising all over your body. It doesn’t take long until you begin to tremble, your high approaching rather quickly, and you’re this close to finally snapping, when Chan draws back from your core, face glistening with your juices, his smirk almost devilish. “I can’t hear you, babe, are you even enjoying this?”, he murmurs, back to drawing lazy patterns on your clit with his thumb. You feel frustration wash over you, and shoot him a dark glare. His grin gets even wider, before he completely withdraws his hand from your heat to suck on his glistening fingers. You close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to gather your wits, until Chan slaps your thigh again. “Look at me, baby.”, he says, voice dark, and your eyes snap open again. You begin to pout. “Please.”, you mumble, trying your best to appeal to his softer side, “I’m sorry I was a brat earlier. You know I can’t be loud or the others might hear us.” Your boyfriend just hums, hands ghosting over your thighs and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Too bad, I guess you can’t cum tonight then.” And before you’re able to reply anything, he dives back in-between your folds.

You throw one arm over your mouth, and bite your own soft flesh to suppress any noises. It takes little to no time until you’re close to your orgasm again, but for the second time tonight, Chan draws back in the last possible second. You’re almost ready to cry with frustration now, eyes glistening with unshed tears. When your boyfriend sees this, he softens a bit and leans towards you to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “This is what you get for being a brat.”, he murmurs, and you bite down on his lower lip, making him groan into your mouth. “Please.”, you whisper and try your best puppy eyes on him. He just smirks again, finally ridding himself off his shirt, jeans and underwear. When he’s fully naked in front of you, you sigh, eyes raking his beautiful, defined body. Unlike you, Chan actually enjoys going to the gym - and his effort pays off. “Stop drooling.”, he says, sounding way too pleased and cocky in your opinion. So you quickly sit up, and wrap one hand around his hard cock, already leaking with pre-cum. Good to see you’re not the only one being affected by this, you think and grin. You begin to slowly jerk him off, spreading the pre-cum over the rest of his cock as lube. He groans, lower lip pulled back between his teeth and eyes almost black with desire. Finally, he’s had enough, and pushes you on your back again, hovering over you. “There’s condoms in the bag behind you.”, he murmurs, leaving gentle kisses on your neck until he finds your sweet spot, beginning to suck on it. You moan almost inaudible, fingers fumbling for said bag to retrieve a condom.

Just seconds later, Chan rolls it over his cock, and then, he aligns himself in front of your wet core, teasingly rubbing your clit before you shoot him a pleading look. He finally sheathes himself into you with one swift motion, and you both moan out loud at the feeling. You quickly cough to cover the noise, making Chan chuckle and press a kiss against your forehead. “You’re okay?”, he asks, and you nod, biting down on his neck and leaving a hickey. He groans and finally begins to move, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you, immediately hitting that spot. Your fingers wrap around his biceps, needing something to hold onto while he drills into you. Suddenly, he pulls out of you to sit back on his knees, wrapping your legs around his hips, and thrusts back into you at an even deeper angle, simultaneously picking up the pace. One of his hands snakes towards your neck and he wraps his fingers around the base of your throat, using just enough pressure to make breathing harder for you. When his thumb begins to circle your clit again, you close your eyes, clamping one hand over your mouth to mask your almost obscene noises.

“C-Chan, I’m so c-close.”, you say in between two moans, and he grins, murmuring a “That’s my girl” under his breath before deepening the angle even more. He suddenly pinches your clit once, and that’s all it takes for you to finally tumble over the edge, his name leaving your lips maybe a bit too loud this time. He quickly leans forward to seal your mouth with his, chasing his own high while guiding you through yours. Not long after, he groans and presses his forehead against yours, shuddering a bit while releasing into the condom. He stills inside you, both your breaths mingling, hearts beating fast while you try to come down from your high. Chan smiles, brushing some of your hair out of your face, and gives you a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you.”, he murmurs, and you return his smile. “Love you more.”, you whisper back, and he chuckles. “Impossible.”

Before you can begin to playfully argue, Minho’s voice cuts through the night “Next time we’ll build the tents far away from each other, y’all are nasty for doing it with us sitting almost right next you.” Both you and Chan freeze, before you burst out laughing. “WE HAVE ZERO REGRETS.”, you yell back, hearing the others groan. “WELL, YOU REALLY SHOULD THOUGH!”, Jisung complains from somewhere to your left, and you hear Lina starting to giggle. You groan and bury your face into Chan’s neck. “They’ll never let us hear the end of this, will they.”, you murmur against his soft skin, and he shakes his head. “Nope.” You sigh and lean back. “Well, it was still worth it.”, you say, and grin up at him. Your boyfriend just smirks and leans down to kiss you again. “Oh, definitely.”

[masterlist] | [requests]

265 notes · View notes

lesdemonium · 4 years ago

Text

romtober day 7: misunderstandings

Rating: M Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 4319 Summary: Cirilla's new nanny, Mister Julian, is her favorite person in the whole world. Geralt's new boyfriend, Jaskier, is pretty high up there as well. No one realizes they might be the same person.

AKA: the nanny/parent au written by a nanny

a MASSIVE thank you for betaing to @boppinrobin. y’all have them to thank for how romantic this wound up being.

read on ao3

“Mister Julian says that the things we learn in school are very important but it’s also important to learn things outside of school. Like about rainbows. Did you know that any time light… ref… refracts it can make a rainbow? Like through windows or… or… Daddy, do you know what refracts means?”

Geralt hummed a little as he and Ciri walked. He thought that answer was enough, until his five year old pulled impatiently at his hand and Geralt looked down to see her frowning at him.

“I do,” he said, nodding a little. “Do you know? Do you want to tell me?”

“I do!” Ciri insisted proudly. She let go of Geralt’s hand now that they were inside their building and she ran to the elevator to make sure she could press the button first. When the button lit up, she gave Geralt a devilish smile and he pretended to be disappointed that he couldn’t hit the button first, much to her delight. “It’s okay, Daddy. Maybe next time. I’m just too fast.”

“You are,” Geralt agreed. He nudged her into the now-open elevator. “Didn’t you want to tell me what refract means?”

“Yes! Mister Julian told me all about it! It’s when something makes light change directions! Like… like water! Or windows!” Ciri was literally bouncing in her excitement to share her knowledge and Geralt found himself grinning down at her, just before leading them both to the door to their condo.

“It sounds like you’re learning a lot of really cool things from Mister Julian,” Geralt said. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside.

“Mister Julian is the best. He’s the smartest guy in the whole wide world!”

Ciri attempted to drop her things--backpack, coat, art project and all--onto the floor, only to be stopped by a chiding look from Geralt. She huffed dramatically and picked it all back up and put her belongings back where they went. Geralt offered a quick “Thank you, Ciri,” but she had already moved on to go play in her room until dinner.

Dinner, of course, was filled with chatter about nothing but Mister Julian, but Geralt couldn’t bring himself to be bothered. It was nice that she enjoyed her new nanny at Yennefer’s. By the end of the meal, Geralt was pretty sure he wanted to meet Mister Julian.

Geralt thought it had to be a new level of pathetic to be stood up by your own brother, and yet here he was. He wouldn’t have necessarily chosen this bar for himself, but now that he was here, he figured he might as well order a drink, even if Lambert was a dick who didn’t bother to show up. Only a quick “something came up” text and some shitty joke about maybe Geralt could find someone to pull the stick out of his ass for him. Prick.

Geralt was halfway into his drink when someone sat beside him. He didn't bother to look--he was pretty sure the stranger was just trying to order a drink--until he felt the other’s shoulder knock against his.

“I’d love to give you a pickup line, but I get the feeling that wouldn’t go very far with you,” blue eyes said.

Turned out, the rest of him was just as beautiful as his eyes. Given the line the man had already paid him, Geralt felt no shame in letting his gaze drag over his company’s body, and Geralt had to admit he liked what he saw. The curve of his lips screamed mischief, and the cut of his shirt betrayed a deceptively muscular chest. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total bust.

“Perceptive,” Geralt answered, taking a long drink of his beer. His eyebrow raised as he met Jaskier’s eye again, and Jaskier straightened up as he settled into the stool beside Geralt.

“I’m Jaskier,” the man said, and motioned at the bartender. He ordered quickly, then turned his attention wholly back to Geralt. “So, does this statuesque masculinity come with a name, or do you prefer to brood your way to recognition?”

“Geralt,” he answered with a smirk. Geralt was pretty sure he had never been made fun of so quickly into what he was almost certain would become a hookup. He quite liked it.

“Geralt, the man of few words,” Jaskier grinned. He received his drink, and held it up, looking pointedly at Geralt’s beer until Geralt clinked the glass together in a wordless cheers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The pleasure, it turned out, was all Geralt’s. If Jaskier was bothered by carrying the conversation, he certainly didn’t show it. He seemed to even have a knack for pulling information out of Geralt efficiently, between stories. Geralt didn’t learn too much about Jaskier’s personal life--he didn’t think he would--but it only took a few minutes into their conversation for him to realize that he might like to.

From the moment he laid hands on Jaskier--in the privacy of Geralt’s own condo, as neither one of them was particularly keen on giving any unassuming strangers even a tame show--he felt indisputable chemistry. They didn’t have to discuss much to understand that they were on the same page about, well, everything. Even how they both liked to kiss, or the way they liked to be touched. It wasn’t magic, it wasn’t perfect, and Geralt definitely had his hands shoved away from somewhere Jaskier apparently did not enjoy being touched, but it was about as close to electrifying as Geralt had ever gotten with a new partner.

“Jesus,” Jaskier panted as his head hit the pillow.

Geralt snorted into Jaskier’s sweat-sheened shoulder, but he had to agree.

When Geralt woke to find Jaskier still in his bed, starfishing and completely unbothered by another body, Geralt was surprised. Pleasantly surprised, but still surprised. He sat up slowly and made his way to the bathroom, and by the time he came back, Jaskier was sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I swear I normally don't do sleepovers without at least discussing it first,” Jaskier said, smiling sheepishly at Geralt. “Apparently you wore me out.”

“Apparently I did,” Geralt answered, shrugging. “It’s fine. Do you want breakfast? I can make eggs.”

Jaskier watched him for a moment, with a cautious smile, then nodded. “Breakfast sounds incredible.”

Nearly an hour later, they both were fed, dressed (though Jaskier scrunched up his nose at rewearing last night’s wrinkled outfit), and Jaskier leaned forward into the kitchen table, staring at Geralt.

“Would it be bold of me to request a repeat performance?” Jaskier asked. “Maybe even a meal that isn’t immediately following an accidental sleepover?”

Geralt hesitated a moment. He wanted to, more than anything, but.

“I have to let you know,” Geralt started, “so you can make a fully informed decision. I have a daughter. A five-year-old.”

Jaskier grinned, then bent down, disappearing beneath the table. Geralt watched, his head tilting as he puzzled out this bizarre reaction, and then Jaskier sat back up, a pink stuffed bunny in his hand.

“You mean to tell me this isn’t yours?” Jaskier asked, his voice affronted, though he was still grinning and even managed to wink at Geralt.

“His name is Mr. Bun and he’s part of the family,” Geralt said, with a smile in return.

Jaskier left that morning with the clothes he had worn the night previously, a full belly, and Geralt’s number entered into his phone and a promise that, yes, they could try for dinner next time. Geralt found himself feeling almost as if he needed to thank Lambert for being a prick. He wouldn’t, though.

“You’re looking cheerier than usual,” Yennefer said as Geralt stepped back to let her inside.

“Ciri, your mom’s here!” Geralt called. “Do you have your bag ready?”

There was a bang from behind Ciri’s door, one that Geralt absolutely did not want to ask about, before she called back, “Yes! I just forgot something!” Geralt was pretty sure she was lying and that he should say something about that, but it didn’t seem like a battle worth waging when packing her bag was already going to take her time.

“Going to explain, or should I start guessing?” Yennefer asked, smirking at him. “Hm… there was a sale on ugly combat boots and you picked up a few dozen more?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Surely you could do better than that. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your touch,” he teased.

“Haven’t lost my touch, simply want you to get to the point. What has you looking so pleased?” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow, and even if Geralt wanted to deflect, he knew from the set of her shoulders Yennefer wasn’t going to just let it go. There was no need for him to, though.

“I have a date tonight.”

“You do? Well, tell me about them? What’s so great about this date that made you pawn off your daughter a night early?”

“You asked to have Ciri early. She’ll think you’re serious if she overhears you,” Geralt frowned. Yennefer waved an insistent hand back. “His name is Jaskier.”

“Mommy!” Ciri called, bounding out of her room and running straight into Yennefer’s arms. Yennefer spun her around once before setting her feet back on the ground, and Ciri grinned up at her. “Is Mister Julian coming to see me this week?”

“Of course he is,” Yennefer answered, nodding at her. “He’ll pick you up from school on Monday.”

“Good.” Ciri’s voice contained every ounce of seriousness in the world, and Geralt had to bite back his laugh. Ciri did not like thinking that Geralt was laughing at her. Not that he blamed her. “I have something very important to tell him.”

“And what’s that?”

“Hippos make pink slime instead of using sunscreen!”

Yennefer’s nose scrunched up and she glanced at Geralt, who shrugged.

“We spent this weekend looking up facts to tell Mister Julian. She picked that one,” Geralt answered.

“That is fascinating and adequately disgusting. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Yennefer took Ciri’s hand and her bag, which she slung over her shoulder. “Say bye to your dad, Ciri. We need to run.” She pointed a finger on her free hand at Geralt. “I expect to hear all about your weekend when you come pick her up.”

It wasn’t until their fifth date that Geralt took Jaskier home again.

Coming back for a hookup was one thing; usually people Geralt brought home left as soon as they caught their breath and never came back. Going on an actual date with someone, though, was different. Bringing someone he was actively dating into the home Geralt shared with his daughter was a whole other level that had to be handled extremely carefully. And slowly.

Luckily, Jaskier understood.

“It’s been so long, I almost forgot where you lived,” Jaskier said, grinning as Geralt opened the door for him. “I’m flattered I’m being invited back. I must be doing something right.”

Geralt snorted, then backed up to let Jaskier back into the condo. Jaskier followed after him, only to crowd Geralt against the door and bring him in for a kiss. Geralt’s arms wound around Jaskier’s middle, turning them both so he could close the door behind them, lest they give Geralt’s neighbors an unintended show.

“A lot of things right,” Geralt answered once they pulled away, and he lived for the way Jaskier beamed at him.

“Did you know,” Jaskier said conversationally, over the dinner Geralt had cooked for them, “that your daughter and my charge are the same age?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at Jaskier and finished his bite. Jaskier didn’t often volunteer information about his charge. Geralt hadn’t pressed, of course, after Jaskier mentioned his job as a nanny on their first official date, and then followed up with “For confidentiality reasons, I can’t tell you much about her, but she is just the best.”

“I thought you didn’t talk about your charge with people you were dating,” Geralt answered. He put down his fork, as he was finished with his meal, and rested his hand on Jaskier’s leg.

“I don’t, but I would consider it, a bit, with a boyfriend,” Jaskier answered, and his hand hovered above Geralt’s, just barely avoiding contact. Though his tone was as even and nonchalant as possible, and he shrugged his shoulders, Jaskier wouldn’t look at Geralt; he was nervous. “And, well. I figured it might give you permission to talk about your daughter. And know that you’re not going to scare me off if you do.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. He captured Jaskier’s still-hovering hand and entwined their fingers. Geralt waited until Jaskier met his eye again, then smiled. “I suppose telling my boyfriend about my daughter makes sense.”

“I’m just wondering what sort of name Jaskier is, anyway,” Yennefer said.

Geralt rolled his eyes and gave her an exasperated look, but Yen only grinned wickedly back.

“It’s a stage name, and a nickname,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“A nickname for what?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t told me and I haven’t asked.”

“You’ve been dating this guy for, what, three months now, and you don’t even know his name?” Yennefer sounded incredulous.

“I know his name. It’s Jaskier. “ Geralt smirked, and Yennefer looked likely to hit him.

She hadn’t given Geralt even the tiniest bit of rest about it all since Geralt had admitted that he and Jaskier were serious over a month ago, but Geralt found himself less and less bothered by it. She had made it clear that she simply wanted to meet him, and that was her goal with all this teasing, but Geralt wasn’t ready. Yennefer meeting Jaskier likely meant Ciri meeting Jaskier, and though he knew he was serious, he felt they needed quite a bit more stability before his five-year-old was brought into the picture. Jaskier seemed to agree, if his lack of pressing about it was anything to go off of.

“Do you even know his last name?” Yennefer asked.

“I do. But I’m not telling you. You don’t need to internet stalk him.”

“Oh, but I so love being nosey.”

Geralt snorted, then turned to the bright patter of Ciri’s feet running to him and jumping in his arms. He caught her, and lifted her up in a bear hug. “Ready to go?” he asked. Ciri nodded enthusiastically.

“Did you ask Mister Julian if he’s free Friday?” Geralt asked, turning back to Yen and holding out his hand for Ciri’s bag, which Yennefer passed to him.

“Sorry, he said he was busy,” Yennefer answered with a sympathetic grimace.

“Someday I’ll meet Ciri’s favorite person in the whole world,” Geralt said. He slung the bag over his arm and put Ciri down, instead taking her hand. “That’s fine. How’s a night at Grandpa’s then?”

Ciri’s eyes grew comically large. “Yes! Last time we had unicorn pancakes! For dinner!” she said.

Geralt very much did not want to know what unicorn pancakes were, or just how much of a sugarbomb they contained. Instead of asking, he waved at Yen and took Ciri back home.

Geralt could feel himself drifting. He shouldn’t let himself, he knew, but it was hard not to when he was wrapped up in his warm bed, still shaking off sleep, and Jaskier was lightly tracing patterns on Geralt’s bare chest. There were things he had to do, like clean up after their date night, and go pick Ciri up from Vesemir’s, but Geralt figured there wasn’t much harm in letting himself have this moment. He hummed, to let Jaskier know he was awake. Hopefully he’d not let Geralt drift off again.

“Morning,” Jaskier said. His voice wasn’t a whisper, but it was a near thing.

“Since when do you wake up before me?” Geralt asked. With great effort, he opened an eye to look at Jaskier, who was smiling down at Geralt, his head propped up with his elbow.

“I wouldn’t get used to it,” Jaskier answered. He continued trailing his fingers along Geralt’s chest. “I’m sure next time you’ll have to chase me out when I inevitably oversleep and your daughter’s on her way home.”

Geralt hummed and caught Jaskier’s hand, then pressed his lips to Jaskier’s fingers. Though the light streaming in from the window was entirely too bright, Geralt found he didn’t mind. Jaskier was haloed in the soft light.

“Maybe sometime you can meet her,” Geralt said.

Jaskier grinned and leaned in to press a kiss to Geralt’s collarbone. “I’d love to. When you’re both ready,” he said. He lifted his head again, then paused, before pressing a slow, sweet kiss to Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm, yeah, it’s official,” Jaskier said as he pulled back.

Geralt furrowed his eyebrows as he reached out to card his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “What’s official?”

“That I love you,” Jaskier said.

He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he hadn’t just thrown Geralt completely for a loop and left him boneless. Jaskier sounded so sure, so honest, and he was beaming down at Geralt.

“Is that so?” Geralt finally answered, his mouth dry.

Jaskier’s face did not dampen, not even a little, as he nodded. “It is. I know because I still felt that way when I kissed you, morning breath and all.”

Geralt snorted and pushed himself up to sit. He still held Jaskier’s hand, and he pressed a kiss to his palm--to spare him from any further morning breath--then let go and stood up. Jaskier sat up, too, and was looking at Geralt with such a look of adoration, that Geralt felt himself flushing under the attention as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

The escape helped clear his head. After his teeth were brushed, he left the bathroom to find Jaskier getting dressed, pulling a new outfit from the drawer Geralt had cleared out for him. They smiled at each other, then switched, Jaskier brushing his teeth and Geralt getting dressed.

It was so easy, that Geralt found himself a bit floored. It had been slow, and Geralt hadn’t truly noticed, but in the warm shock of Jaskier’s confession, he noticed there were little reminders of Jaskier everywhere: the clothes in the drawer, Jaskier’s toothbrush in Geralt’s bathroom. The pictures from the photobooth of the two of them sitting on Geralt’s nightstand.

Geralt returned to the bathroom and leaned against the doorway. Geralt watched, silently, as Jaskier finished brushing his teeth, then grinned at Geralt.

“Don’t tell me you’re kicking me out already. I woke up early for you! I thought we could go to brunch. Maybe do an early six-month anniversary thing, since I’m working on our actual anniversary.” Jaskier paused to let out a nervous laugh and card his fingers through his hair. “Monthiversary? Whatever. Six months is a big deal, okay, I promise I’ll let you off the hook for other month markers, but six months is a big deal.”

“I love you, too,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand and Jaskier allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Jaskier’s body sagged in relief against Geralt and Geralt held him all the tighter for it. This was right. Geralt hadn’t felt this sure about anything in a long time.

“How would you feel about Jaskier meeting Ciri?” Geralt asked as soon as Yennefer opened the door.

Yennefer paused for a moment, blinking.

“I hate when you do that. Next time can you greet me before bombarding me with big questions?” Yennefer asked, frowning at him.

“Hi Yen,” Geralt answered, nodding a little. He supposed that was fair. “How has your week been? I wanted to chat about this before Ciri comes down. So she doesn’t get excited or think it’s happening if you say no.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” Yennefer let out an audible breath, then gestured for Geralt to come inside. “So, things are pretty serious with him, then?”

“Yes. We’ve been together nine months.”

Yennefer put her hands on her hips and regarded Geralt for a moment. “You’ve been seeing this guy almost a year, and you’re just now considering having him meet Ciri? Jesus, Geralt. I guess we’re all lucky you didn’t wait until a marriage proposal before any of us got to know him.”

“I can’t consider marrying anyone that Ciri hasn’t signed off on,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“You are the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met. Yes, absolutely, have this guy that’s been in your life for almost an entire year meet Ciri, I give you permission.” Yen’s eyes rolled as she crossed her arms. “I get to meet him after. Before Lambert and Eskel.”

“Agreed,” Geralt said. He thought about sticking out his hand to shake Yennefer’s and seal the deal, but he figured now wasn’t the time to incur Yennefer’s wrath.

Geralt was nervous. In fact, nervous didn’t even begin to describe Geralt at this precise moment. Geralt had a feeling Jaskier was probably just as nervous, if not moreso, judging by how quiet he had been all day on the phone. No social media posts, only a couple clarifying questions about the plan for tonight to Geralt, and otherwise completely silent. It helped, if Geralt was being honest. That meant Jaskier knew how big of a deal this was, just as much as Geralt did. If Ciri didn’t like Jaskier--well. Geralt just had to trust that was impossible.

When he heard the knock, Geralt startled. He opened the door to find Jaskier standing there, looking sheepish and gorgeous.

“Ciri? Jaskier’s here,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand for Jaskier, who gladly took it and stepped inside.

Geralt was still turned toward the door, closing it, as Ciri’s steps turned from walking to an all out sprint toward them.

“Mister Julian!” she yelled as she jumped into his--thankfully, just barely ready--arms. Jaskier looked bewildered, and like he was still processing the girl now in his arms. Ciri pulled back and pressed her palms to Jaskier’s cheeks. “I didn’t know you were coming to my dad’s! You didn’t say you were coming over!”

“I...I didn’t know,” Jaskier answered. He bent to put her back on the ground, just a bit too fast to be intentional, but Ciri was delighted by the move. Jaskier then wrung his hands together, but Geralt could still see that they were shaking.

“Julian? You’re Mister Julian?” Geralt asked. He couldn’t process this. He felt dizzy and thrown and suddenly very uncertain of what he should do with his hands.

“Julian’s my first name,” Jaskier answered. Geralt could see the blush creeping along Jaskier’s face. “Since it’s on my driver’s license and easier to say, that’s the name I use. You’re Cirilla’s dad?”

“Dad,” Ciri whined, and when Geralt looked to her she had the most disapproving frown Geralt had ever seen on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re friends with Mister Julian? You said we don’t keep secrets!”

“You’re right,” Geralt agreed. He hesitated a moment, then ran his fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know I was keeping a secret, it was an accident. I call Mister Julian ‘Jaskier.’”

Ciri turned her now very suspicious frown on Jaskier. “Were you keeping a secret? You didn’t tell me you’re my dad’s boyfriend.”

Jaskier laughed and shook his head helplessly. “Trust me, sweetheart. I had no idea. Apparently your dad and I are too good at keeping you safe.”

Ciri seemed to accept that answer, because she shrugged, then ran off to the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Jaskier, however, wheeled on Geralt the moment she turned her back.

“You were married to Yennefer?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes,” Geralt answered. Jaskier let out an incredulous bark of laughter and Geralt placed a hand on the small of his back--trying to steady them both. “We divorced just after we adopted Ciri. How did you not connect her name?”

“I thought maybe you were both inspired by Apple products! Who was I to judge?” Jaskier threw his hands up. A moment later, one landed heavily on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt could still just barely feel that hand tremble. “And I don’t call her Ciri! She wanted me to call her Cirilla. I never connected--” He laughed again, shaky and disbelieving. “Oh my god, this does not help nanny stereotypes.”

“At least we know she already likes you?” Geralt offered.

Jaskier gasped, his free hand covering his mouth. He glanced at the kitchen, and by the time he looked back at Geralt, his entire face had crinkled into a broad smile. Jaskier took Geralt’s hand between both of his own and pressed Geralt’s knuckles to his lips, and now Geralt could feel Jaskier’s grin.

“She does,” Jaskier said, sounding as wet as his eyes were. “She does like me!”

Relief washed over Geralt as he really considered what this meant. The hardest part and biggest potential barrier to the future of their relationship had already been crossed before it was even a question. Geralt was not looking forward to how much Yen was going to laugh at him, but he wasn’t worried about their future anymore. Ciri loved Jaskier as much as Geralt did. Everything would be okay.

Geralt pulled his hand from Jaskier’s hold to cup Jaskier’s face and bring him in for a kiss. Somehow, they had managed to do this right. Somehow, they were being rewarded.

“Are we having dinner, or what, lazy boneses?” Ciri called from the kitchen.

Jaskier pulled away to laugh, and Geralt had to capture the mischievous smile Jaskier gave him in another kiss. This time, when Jaskier pulled away, his eyes were soft and his hand was warm as he pulled Geralt to the kitchen.

“Coming, lazy bones?” Jaskier asked, as if Geralt wouldn’t follow him anywhere.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #gerlion #geraskier fanfic #geraskier fanfiction #geraskier au #geraskier modern au #my writing #romtober #pls reblog this like #i'm so freaking proud of it lmao

182 notes · View notes

msgrumpygills · 4 years ago

Note

Okay, so, I've tried to remain neutral about this issue-- I think a lot of people were calling Jackles 'homophobic' not because of he was against Destiel. I think it was because he was harshly against the idea of bisexual!Dean headcanon.

Once there was a fan who was asking a question to Jackles on one of the cons. She (the fan) said that she's a bisexual herself, and she sees herself in Dean a lot and that she thinks Dean can be bisexual subtextually. After she said that crowd booed her and then Jackles made a rude remark about it as well. Another time-- there was another fan who was also headcanoning Dean as bisexual and made a school project (???) about it and wanted Jackles to sign her paper, but Jackles wrote ''NOOO'' on the paper instead. There were other issues and similar things that happened. I think that's why people were calling him 'homophobic' because he was so against the idea that Dean could be bisexual and could be headcanoned as such.

Honestly, I kinda agree with those fans, and it's not just Jackles who gets those sort of questions? There are a lot of other shows and actors on the other shows who get similar sort of questions as well. I've never seen any of them responding in the same manner. For once, I think it is quite unprofessional. Two, I think it is kinda ridiculously childish. Maybe it's just me, of course, but I don't think his responses were right and I can see why people were calling him homophobic.

How would you feel if you played this character for years, this character that you knew inside and out, and then had some fans and your costar insisting that this character was something he’s not? On top of that, how would you feel if the rabid fans that keep trying to push their headcanons of HIS character onto you because they refuse to believe that their fantasy isn’t reality? Add to that a co-star who continues to push and egg on the fans, setting you up to be the bad guy when you stand your ground on your character. Would you be happy? No.

Jensen had made it crystal clear that Dean was not bi, he was not in love with Castiel, but the fans refused to believe that and kept pushing him. Misha egged it on and made things even worse so when Jensen inevitably (and justifiably) popped off, he could look like the villain. Jensen was uncomfortable with the Destiel shit and the constant badgering from fans who wanted to make their canons real, and yet the fans kept pushing him and so did Misha. Imagine if Jensen was a female and this was happening, it wouldn’t fly.

So I don’t blame Jensen one bit for getting pissed off.

#grumpy answers #jensen ackles #misha collins #Anonymous

21 notes · View notes

since0202 · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 19: Claim

Warning: Implied Sexual Content

The hunt for Victoria was on.

Now that the Cullens were back and they realized the danger that Victoria still presented, they doubled their efforts of tracking her on their territory. Grace was swamped with finals prep and Sam told her they had it handled for the time being, so she sat out on night rounds for now.

Jake was busy hunting Victoria so he hadn’t stopped by her texted since that afternoon they fell asleep together. She promised herself that as soon as things calmed down, she was going to ask him the questions she needed to: Why did he try to kiss Bella? Was he in love with her? What did that make Grace to him? What did this all mean?

The questions circled her head as she sat in her AP English class. Bella tapped her shoulder with the eraser end of her pencil. Grace looked over and gave her a gentle smile

“Hey, you okay?” Bella asked. Grace nodded and turned back to her notes.

Grace did know that she could just ask Bella about what happened between her and Jake. She would be honest at least and forthcoming. She had Edward so there was no reason to stymy any details. But Grace knew that Bella didn’t feel intensely for Jake, so it wasn’t really her feelings that she needed to clear up. Still, she might as well ask.

Just as she went to raise her hand to answer a question her teacher posed about the significance of the birds in James Joyce’s novel “Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man”, her phone buzzed. Sidetracked now, she flipped it open.

SMS Text— 2:33 p.m.: Paul

Are you ready to talk yet?

I promise I’m cool as a cucumber.

And then there was Paul. Her heart ached every time she thought about him. In any other life, Grace knew she would have readily chosen Paul to be with for the rest of her life. He was so kind and soft and gentle with her. His anger was frightening but never directed at her. She always felt exceedingly safe with him, however, this wasn’t any other life. And being with him meant understanding that something was always going to be missing, no matter what he did. And that wasn’t fair to him.

Grace had asked him to give her some time, what with finals coming up and needing to wrap her head around everything. She also wanted to give him time to cool off as his territorialness over Grace increased once he found out about her and Jake’s afternoon together.

She wrote a hasty reply back saying they’d talk this weekend, in person, and then shut her phone and buried it deep in her bag. Bella had been watching her do this the whole time and Grace looked over to give her a reassuring smile. But worry was painted clear on Bella’s face.

Once the day was over, Grace and Bella walked toward their truck. Relieved that it was finally the weekend and the start of Spring Break, Grace began organizing all of the studying, essays, and projects she needed to do in her head. She had as far as next Wednesday mapped out when Bella slammed the driver side door of the truck and looked over at Grace.

“Hey,” Bella said, her face a little unsure.

“Hey,” Grace said, a little confused.

“Um, so. Would you want to have a sleepover with me and Alice?” As the words tumbled out of her mouth, Bella outwardly cringed.

“We...we sleep in the same room every night. But yes? I guess?” Grace said laughing a little.

“No, I mean, Edward still won’t let me go down to the rez and everyone except Rosalie and Alice are going hunting. And so he asked me to stay the night at his place with Rosalie and Alice just to be safe.” Bella said all of this very quickly. Grace looked at her skeptically for a moment.

“I thought you liked Alice,” she said.

“I do!” Bella said, “I just, I would just feel better if you were there. And I know we haven’t gotten to spend a lot of time together since Edward got back and I--” Bella looked at Grace’s face that was pulled into a broad smile, “Just forget it. It’s stupid.”

“No! No, Bella!” Grace laughed, “It’s just not very….you? I don’t know. Of course I’ll have a sleepover with you. In a vampire coven’s home. On land I’ve been specifically forbidden to enter.”

Bella’s eyes went wide in distress.

“Sounds fun,” Grace concluded.

“Oh god,” Bella said, “If this is gonna get you in trouble with Sam or…..Jake.” Bella again lightly cringed when she said his name, more for Grace’s sake than hers. “Then really. Do not worry about it. I just thought-”

“No, I’m coming.” Grace interjected joyfully. It was true, Sam had told her to never go to the Cullen’s house again. But she wanted to prove once and for all that they posed no threat to them. Sleeping over seemed like a dangerous enough feat that would show that. Plus, if Grace gathered any intel on the vampires, that might be enough consolation for Sam not to totally take her head off.

Or maybe, it was just the old rebellion rising up in her again. She hadn’t felt this need to disobey every order thrown at her since right after her father died. Something in her kept telling her to push harder and harder, just to see how far enough she could go.

Bella gave a small smile and said “Thanks.”

When they got home, they both bolted upstairs to pack a bag, a weird pulsing joy moving through both of them. Grace felt like she was a 6th grader, invited to the popular girl’s party and she didn’t know why. Bella was just thrilled Grace was coming.

When they both tumbled back down the stairs together, arm and arm, and whispering about something they had heard that day, Charlie was just coming through the front door.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Far as I know, you two are still grounded.”

“Dad,” Bella groaned.

“Jessica invited us to a slumber party at her house to kick off spring break,” Grace quickly interjected. She thought mentioning a town girl instead of a rez girl would keep Charlie from double checking a story since he knew of Jessica, but didn’t have enough face time to place her in town.

“Jessica?” Charlie said.

“Yeah, is that okay? We wanted a,” Bella paused, the words making her cringe ever so slightly, “A girl’s night.”

Charlie seemed pleased that this seemingly had nothing to do with Edward.

“Pleeeease, please please please,” Grace feigned begging.

“Alright, alright,” Charlie said. “A slumber party?”

“Yes!” they both said in unison.

“No boys?” Charlie confirmed.

“Dad.”

“No boys allowed!” Grace replied.

“Alright then, have fun.” Charlie said stepping aside and trying to conceal a smile.

“Yessss!” Grace bounded out the door and Bella lagged behind to hug Charlie goodbye.

When they pulled into the driveway of the Cullen house, Grace had to stop herself from admiring the sheer immense beauty of the home in the daylight. The windows glittered in the low light sun still and the trees shimmered in bloom. As they hopped down from the truck, Edward was already down the steps to greet them.

“Grace. Good of you join,” Edward said politely. He wrapped his arm around Bella pulling her into his side and taking her bag.

“Of course. Any chance to hang with some vampires,” Grace said nonchalantly. As they walked through the house and up the stairs, Edward guided them toward the kitchen. When the huge island countertop came into view, Grace gasped at the fanfare of food, party snacks, and candy littering the counter.

“Thought we’d lean into the sleepover theme,” Esme said kindly from behind the counter.

“You didn’t have to go to this much trouble,” Bella breathed. Esme waved a dismissive hand at her and beamed.

“Wow,” Grace breathed. Suddenly Carlisle was beside her taking her bag from her shoulder.

“I’ll place this up in the guest room for you. Good to see you, Grace,” Carlisle nodded.

“Likewise,” Grace said sincerely back. Something about Carlisle’s calm demeanor and sincere stare put Grace at ease.

He was back in a flash and then nodded to the others, “Ready? We should get going if we’re going to make it by nightfall.” The others agreed and said their goodbyes to their partners. Edward held onto Bella for just a little bit longer than anyone else and then quickly departed leaving Alice, Grace, and Bella in the kitchen.

“Rosalie’s just running a quick errand, she’ll be back,” Alice said. “Okay, so what first! Nails? Face masks? Hair braids?” Alice was clapping her hands together on every suggestion. Bella’s anxiety climbed more and more and Grace’s eyes grew bigger and bigger with glee at each suggestion.

When Rosalie entered the converted dining room that Alice had made into a very high end blanket force with gauzy curtains, colorful pouf pillows, and lush faux fur blankets, she was surprised to see everyone on the floor in some state of disarray. Sleepless in Seattle played on the too big TV above the fireplace. Grace was pulling on Red Vines and clasping a magazine in her hand, staring at it seriously, with mashed avocado smeared across her face. Bella, also clad in green avocado, had an intricate braid winding over her most of her head that Alice had perfected and placed flowers throughout and was taking bites of pretzels and popcorn while tracing her pencil over a crossword puzzle. She intermittently answered Grace’s questions while Alice bounded from the tent and back again with another concoction from the kitchen to now slather over Grace’s free hand.

“When you’re alone, what’s your favorite activity to do together? A) Gaze adoringly into each other’s eyes in a field of flowers….Bit specific.” Grace said in between bites of her Red Vine, “B) Do some dare devil defying feat. C) Go out to eat followed by a late night movie. Or D) Go to a party and get silly.”

“What are you three doing?” Rosalie said a little surprised, with wonder filling her face.

“We’re trying to figure out how old Edward is based on their relationship traits with this Cosmo quiz,” Grace replied, her eyes still focused intensely on the page in front of her.

“Oh.” Rosalie said looking around the room, “You should really condition your hair with egg whites.” She suggested as she saw Alice rubbing coconut oil through Grace’s hair.

“Is this a way for you to get to crack eggs on my head or something?” Grace asked as Bella tried to conceal a laugh.

“No! It’s just an old trick I remember from my time,” Rosalie said matter-of-factly, “Here I’ll show you.” She strode over to the refrigerator and started gently separating eggs in a bowl.

“Answer the question, Bella,” Alice prompted. Bella snapped back to attention.

“Ummm, A I guess?” She replied with an embarrassed smile.”

“Yeah, we all knew it was A, no need to fret,” Grace said pressing on. Rosalie settled behind Grace expertly draping a towel over her shoulders with a satisfied smile on her face before expertly applying the whisked egg whites.

The night pressed on with too much food, rinsing their hair in the sink and having to advise on temperature to two people who couldn’t perceive temperature, and quoting Roman Holiday. Bella fell asleep just after midnight and Alice carried her up to Edward’s room that was repurposed into a guest room.

When Grace turned in for the night, she heard her phone beep.

SMS Text—12:32 a.m.: Paul

Meet me at my place and I won’t tell Sam where you are right now. ;)

Grace let out a surprised laugh. She expected someone to eventually figure out where she was but the cheeky jibe from Paul was unexpected.

SMS Text—12:33 a.m.: Grace

Are you threatening me, Paul Lahote?

SMS Text—12:33 a.m.: Paul

Come and find out, Spirit Bird.

Grace was definitely intrigued. Maybe it was the expert styling of her hair from Rosalie or the glow from her avocado face mask, or the fact that she hadn’t heard from Jacob in days and she was starting to think he regretted it. Whatever it was, she gathered her coat and made her way out to the forest. Rosalie gave her a confused look as she passed the living room but didn’t try to stop her.

She jogged the short mile and a half to the rez border and once she crossed onto her territory, she quickly recast and landed in front of Paul’s quaint home. It was a tiny little one bedroom with a wrap around porch and modest kitchen. He didn’t spend much time there, but Grace had been there once or twice before when he swung by to grab something before taking her home. She skipped up the porch steps and before she could even knock on the door, he pulled it open. Shirtless as always, he smiled and nodded his head over his shoulder to beckon her inside. She gladly ducked inside.

Grace didn’t exactly know why she came. She thought about making amends, talking about what happened like he had asked, but when she turned to look toward Paul after walking across the short length of her living room, it didn’t really seem like he was all too concerned with betrayal anymore. He looked her up and down appreciatively, taking his time to take her all in. The old fire rose in Grace once again and she smiled warmly at him. While the ache of that familiar absence remained where she knew Jake fit, she was able to keep it quiet, just for now.

“So do you always text girls past midnight who happen to be hanging out with low risk vampires?” Grace said nonchalantly.

“I guess, at least I do when the girl looks as good as you,” Paul said seriously. Grace blushed.

“So you’re not mad? Don’t want to yell at me about betraying the pack and all that?” Grace pressed.

“Not if you don’t want me too,” Paul said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Grace shook her head no. “Good, then I won’t and we can do something better instead.”

“Better?”

“Better.” he looked at her trying to figure out something before he said, “I’m tired of this back and forth. Who chooses who and all that. So, I’m laying claim.”

“What do you mean?” Grace said, her heart starting to beat faster. She felt like she was on the precipice of something that she might not be able to come back from. Paul crossed the small room in three quick strides and scooped her up, pulling her legs to wrap around his lower torso and holding onto her back before saying in the softest voice Grace could ever imagine he was capable of:

“I’m calling you mine.” With that, he pressed his lips firmly to hers, his breath hot and wanting as he parted his lips and ran his tongue across hers. Grace responded easily, allowing the feeling of warmth to crash through her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

He easily steered them down the narrow hallway back toward his room without breaking the kiss. He was keen on keeping hands on her at all times. When he sat down on the bed, she perched in his lap, kneeling over him as he kissed her neck softly, running his hands gently down her sides before deftly pulling at her shirt. She obliged and slowly peeled off the soft t-shirt as he pressed his lips to her collarbone and shoulders, pulling one bra strap down gently with his index finger to gain full access to her shoulder.

Grace shivered at his touch and let her hands roam down his neck to his chest and arms. He captured her gaze and stopped for a moment, searching her eyes lovingly before placing a hand behind her head and pulling her to him for a deeper kiss. With his other hand, he quickly unsnapped her bra and Grace let it slip from her arms and tossed it aside before pressing her chest to his. He let out a soft groan as their bodies connected and placed both of his hands on her naked back, pressing her roughly to him for a moment before swinging her around to lay flat on the bed.

He kneeled over her now, leaning up to stare at her for just a minute before kissing down her neck and chest, his hands making quick work of her jean button. He shimmied her out of her jeans and quickly discarded his own shorts before gently sliding her underwear down her legs, kissing at her thigh and calf as he went.

Grace let small gasps of breath escape, allowing herself to relax into this feeling with him. Whatever voice in her that was telling her no, she had stopped listening and the voice had grown quiet. When he finally slipped out of his boxer shorts and hovered over her, Grace opening to him and looping her hands confidently behind his head, he stopped for a moment once more.

His eyes poured into hers and Grace felt intensely loved, more than she had felt in her entire life. The fact that a singular human would look at her like that made her whole lower body tremble.

“Grace Alo, you are the most beautiful, mysterious, and frustrating woman I’ve ever met,” Paul said, heady breaths flowing across Grace’s face. She felt intoxicated by them. He paused again brushing his lips to hers and Grace arched her hips instinctively. He pulled away and leaned back for a moment to take his whole face in and said, “Promise me that you’re mine.”

Grace looked up at him and cupped both hands to his face before whispering, “I promise.” He gave her another achingly sweet smile before pushing forward, resulting in Grace gasping and clutching tightly around his neck in wanting rhythm.

#twilight #twilightfanfiction #jacobblackxoc #paul lahote #edward cullen #bella swan #alice cullen #rosalie cullen #eclipse #new moon #twilightfanfic #the cullens #the pack

19 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years ago

Text

Neverending Story

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 11K

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut and Language

Summary: Y/N met her husband unexpectedly, and their subsequent relationship has been anything but predictable. But Changbin has always agreed to give Y/N whatever she wanted, but that is suddenly put to the test when Y/N takes things a step too far.

Note: The Holy Trinity of 3racha Married AUs is complete. @lordseochangbin I hope you don’t mind that I tagged you, but this is the fic inspired by that gifset from earlier this week.

Han Jisung had promised me a substantial raise, but after looking out over the podium to appraise the crowd of rich businessmen, I suddenly regretted ever agreeing to work for him in the first place. Because my boss was currently lying in his fancy upstate apartment dying of the flu while I was standing in his place with cue cards in hand to deliver an eloquent speech to a bunch of men who would probably laugh at my expense. But let’s also not forget to mention the fact that I’ve always been extremely introverted which meant that public speaking equated to sweat-drenched palms and the nervous sway to my gait as I rocked back and forth on my feet with hands behind my back.

“Hello,” I spoke into the microphone, wincing when my voice echoed over the speakers. Apparently, the audio feedback in this ballroom was something out of the early 20th century before people had figured out how to work a sound system. “On behalf of Mr. Han,” I said, resisting the urge to lick away the last remnants of my cheap lipstick. “He would like to thank everyone for their support with his new summer project.”

A light smattering of applause, probably from those arrogant benefactors who liked to come into the office to kiss Jisung’s ass and compliment him on all of his successes. They didn’t mean a single word of the bullshit spewing from their mouths, especially the women who openly gaped at him right in front of my desk. “In regards to the company’s s-stocks,” I said, stuttering over the word while fumbling with my notecards. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this nervous, mind working a mile a minute as I tried to desperately compose myself.

And because everything was already progressing this poorly, I started to lose my grip on the stack of notecards aiding my speech, watching as they fell to the ground and spread completely out of order. I immediately dropped to my knees, hurriedly gathering the notecards back into my grasp before inwardly cursing Han Jisung for what had to be the hundredth time that evening. I managed to collect the notecards together on top of the podium before gazing out into the unamused collection of wealthy aristocrats. “I’m sure it had something to do with fourth-quarter profits,” I said while clearing my throat. “Thank you for coming.”

I rushed off the stage without another word, drenched in sweat and failure, determined to make it out of the building before someone else could comment on the unfortunate incident. It reminded me of a similar calamity involving my asshole of an ex-boyfriend who had left me high and dry at one of his seminars to apologize to the people who paid to see his lecture. Why were the men in my life always determined to embarrass me?

With rapid steps, I was nearly out the door before an unfamiliar hand wrapped itself around my wrist. I paused with a wince, turning around to look at the rather handsome gentleman who was waiting patiently behind me. “I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly, assuming he must have something to do with the event. I’m sure he was not pleased with my humiliating display, especially when tonight's proceedings had been touted as a professional gathering. “Mr. Han couldn’t make it tonight and I was trying to fill in for him. Please don’t let this reflect badly on the company.”

A smirk graced his sharp features. “Don’t apologize. I thought it was great.”

“Excuse me?”

“The speech was great,” the man continued, dark hair falling into his eyes like a curtain. He let go of my wrist before offering me a more professional greeting. “Seo Changbin.”

“Seo?” I repeated, searching my mind for any mention of that name. I dealt with a lot of rich men when it came to scouring the city for potential leads, sorting through dozens of profiles every day I walked into the office. Usually with a cup of coffee in hand because Jisung wouldn’t be able to function otherwise.

“I own a line of hotel chains,” Changbin nodded. “Does that sound more familiar?”

His tone was teasing. “I do remember now, Mr. Seo.”

“Ah, don’t call me that,” he insisted. “You don’t have to put on an act like the others.”

I smiled at his easy-going nature. “Well, I’m glad you were at least entertained by my speech.”

Changbin glanced up at the door behind me. “Were you leaving already?”

I followed his gaze, albeit more hesitantly now. “I was planning to.”

“Good,” Changbin said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leaned in closer. “Mind if I join you?”

I was flushed for an entirely new reason now. “I would be honored.”

Han Jisung was the greatest employer in the world, and I would do everything in my power to serve as his PA in the future. Because I would owe Jisung a million heartfelt expressions of gratitude for asking me to deliver a speech in his absence. Leading me to one of the most gorgeous men I had ever met since the insanely attractive graduate student who served as a TA for my college writing seminar.

But it was hard to think about Jisung, or anything rational for that matter when my legs were practically bent at my chest, lungs devoid of oxygen while Seo Changbin proceeded to fuck me into the mattress. It was a really nice mattress too, compliments of the fancy hotel suite he had reserved for the weekend. I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Changbin was a very wealthy man who had way too many muscles and a cock that stretched the sensitive walls of my pussy with every subsequent thrust deep inside to the point where it felt like he was spearing me against the bed.

Not that I minded in the slightest as I ran my hands down the smooth contours of his back, moaning loudly against his shoulder. It was completely unfair for someone to look this good, and I had nearly lost my mind when he had crawled between my legs, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt to reveal an upper-body straight out of the Men’s Health magazine. Because fate had deemed me fortunate enough to have the opportunity to fuck someone who belonged in my erotic fantasies, dick heavy on my tongue as I blew him under the desk in his office.

“Changbin,” I groaned, thighs trembling from their current position.

“You’re cumming, aren’t you, Y/N?” he asked in a raspy voice thick with lust and an irresistible baritone.

“Yes,” I managed around a gasp because Changbin had started to thumb across my clit with practiced movements, intentions perfectly clear as he leaned back to watch the way my back arched towards the ceiling. It had been a long time since someone had made me cum like that and I was still high from the effects of my orgasm while Changbin chased his release with several more slow grinds in exaggerated succession before filling the condom with a grunt.

I was fighting for air, sweat dripping from my bangs as Changbin fell onto the bed next to me. “How long have you been working out?”

Changbin chuckled. “Since high school.”

“It really shows,” I said, twisting my head to the side because I couldn't get enough of his firm biceps.

Changbin reached across the bed, fingers sliding through his cum dripping from the folds of my labia. “I haven’t asked for your number yet, Y/N.”

My entire body lit with excitement at his words because there was a very obvious intention in such an innocent comment. It meant that Changbin wanted to see me again, and I would give absolutely anything to feel his cock sliding in and out at his own luxury. Of course, there would be a lot of things he would come to ask me for in the future and very rarely would I ever tell him no, especially once he slipped a gorgeous diamond ring onto my finger.

I would also come to learn that there are few things my husband cannot resist in this world and the opportunity to fuck me over the kitchen counter was definitely one of them. I rarely woke up early enough to cook breakfast, so on the rare chance that I managed to obey my alarm clock, I would trudge into the kitchen wearing nothing but one of Changbin’s college t-shirts to pull out a carton of eggs from the fridge. It was the least I could do for my husband since he was always the more romantic one in our relationship.

Lured by the smell of coffee and bacon, Changbin found me in the kitchen, twisting my shirt around my waist to push his cock deep inside. Bracing my elbows against the rough marble of the countertop, I did my best to spread my legs wide for him because nothing felt better in the morning than Changbin fucking me from behind, fingers digging bruises into the skin of my hip bones. “Where did this come from?” I gasped because Changbin had figured out how to roll his hips just right to grind my clit against the side of the worn surface.

“When you walk around the apartment wearing nothing but a shirt,” Changbin said, growling at my ear. “I have to fuck you like the little slut you want to be.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” I smirked, receiving a firm smack on my ass for my sarcastic question.

“Is that what you want?” Changbin asked, encouraged by my loud moans.

“What if I showed up to your office dressed like this?”

“You better not,” he grumbled, hands sliding up my shirt to squeeze my breasts. “These are for my eyes only.”

“Greedy,” I moaned, pushing back against him because I was desperately chasing a good orgasm.

“It’s your fault,” Changbin said, picking up the pace once he started detecting the familiar signs of my impending release. But at this point in time, we knew everything about one another’s bodies. And Changbin always managed to hit even deeper, reaching further and further inside with every aggressive meeting of our hips, the lewd sounds mingling with our moans.

“I was feeling particularly horny this morning,” I replied, finally letting go after a strategic thrust that snapped the chord anchoring me to reality. Changbin followed soon after, grinding his cock as he rode out his own orgasm. And despite my oversensitivity, Changbin ignored my whines and shoved his cum back where it belonged.

“Alright, Mrs. Seo,” he said, chuckling at the sluggish way I pulled myself back onto my feet, shirt falling back into place. “Will you shower with me before I go to work?”

“What about breakfast?”

“I guess I’ll just have you instead,” he said and I grimaced at the cheesy comment.

Jisung was always late in the mornings, but he could get away with it because nobody would criticize the CEO. But his status didn’t mean that Minho, Jisung’s closest advisor, was any less of a nuisance when he complained to anyone who would listen. Which was often me because my desk was located right next to Jisung’s office. “It’s like he doesn’t care,” Minho whined.

I nodded my head slowly, focused on responding to the emails flooding my inbox. “He’s got a lot on his mind.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Minho immediately opposed. “He’s just lazy! I get up every morning at the crack of dawn to come into the office. Why can’t he do the same?”

I glanced up wearily to reply because Minho was probably expecting me to agree with everything he was saying. Graciously, I was relieved of that unnecessary burden when I saw Seungmin walking in our direction. “Minnie!”

I waved him down desperately and he offered me a smile with his cell phone in hand. “Y/N,” he said, handing me the device from over the counter, blatantly ignoring a sour Minho. “My dog had her puppies.”

I immediately cooed at the sight of the tiny little Dalmations, squealing at the sight of their tiny ears. “Seungmin, they’re adorable!”

The younger boy grinned. “You know you’d be the first person on my list since I’m looking for new homes.”

“I don’t know, Seungmin,” I said, reluctantly returning his phone. “Changbin would be really mad if I brought home a dog.”

“Changbin? Mad at you?” Seungmin scoffed. “That’s impossible, Y/N.”

“Changbin gives you whatever you want,” Minho added as if unable to resist jumping into our conversation.

“But not this,” I said. “One time, I thought it might be nice to bring home a fish for the apartment, but when Changbin saw it on the coffee table, he complained for hours about how gross they were. If I even mention a dog, Changbin immediately changes the subject.”

“Well, I guess it never hurts to ask,” Seungmin said with a shrug. “But they really do need new homes. They’ll be old enough in a few weeks to leave their mother.”

“Don’t try to talk me into this,” I said, shooting him a glare. “You know I have a weak resolve.”

“What if you at least come over this afternoon to see them?” Seungmin asked as if blatantly ignoring my last demand.

“Can I come too?” Minho asked. “You know how boring it gets around here.”

“As long as you can at least pretend you might take one,” Seungmin said. “I’m sure your cats would be thrilled.”

“My cats are angels,” Minho said. “They would love a new friend.”

“To torment,” I said. “Won’t they get jealous when you give the puppy all of your attention?”

“My babies know how to share,” Minho replied. “They were taught well.”

“I’d hate to see you as a teacher,” Seungmin said, receiving a glare in response.

The conversation ended there, but the subject remained a heavy point of focus for the remainder of the day. I couldn’t stop thinking about the puppies, finding myself distracted during the most menial of tasks. I even managed to completely ignore Jisung’s greeting because I was so lost in my thoughts. Subsequently, my boss had stood at the front of my desk to snap his fingers in my line of vision. “Y/N?”

“Sorry, sir,” I apologized immediately, blushing because I knew I should be focused on my work.

And I knew that agreeing to visit Seungmin’s puppies would definitely be a horrible idea. The minute they looked at me with adorable button noses and innocent eyes, I would be breaking down and demanding to have one for myself. I knew this would happen, but I still tortured myself and drove with Seungmin back to his apartment, falling in love a dozen times over with each and every single puppy who subsequently chewed on my frayed sandals or plopped themselves right in the middle of my lap. “You’ve ruined me,” I told Seungmin because there was no way I wasn’t bringing home a puppy and that only meant trouble.

Changbin absolutely hated the idea of pets and had repeatedly denied me every time we walked past a pet shelter or saw a dog during our walks through the park. I could never understand why he was so adamantly opposed, but I figured it had something to do with the fact that he was an obsessive clean freak who liked everything in his life to be controlled. Puppies were a factor one simply couldn’t plan for and they tended to possess destructive tendencies, especially when it came to the things they really believed were toys instead of expensive shoes.

“I’ll call you when you can pick one up,” Seungmin said, following me to the door of his apartment.

“What am I doing?” I groaned loudly, pointing an accusing finger in Seungmin’s direction. “I’m holding you personally accountable.”

Seungmin offered me a grin. “Tell Changbin to call me.”

Eight weeks later, I chose a strategic day when I knew Changbin would be coming home late from work because of a board meeting. Subsequently, I snuck the small Dalmatian puppy upstairs into our apartment, holding tight to its wriggling body before she immediately made her presence known the moment I put her down on the floor. “Don’t pee there,” I said, ushering her away from the pricey carpet Changbin had bought for the foyer.

My plan was to hide her in the guest bathroom, praying that she would keep from barking too loudly when Changbin came home. “Changbin’s going to kill me,” I thought to myself while opening the door for the excited puppy who ran inside to smell the low hanging duvet with curiosity.

Changbin rarely raised his voice around me, and I could only think of a few incidents where Changbin and I had truly fought. Most of the time, it was because of his mother who quite simply hated the idea of her son being with someone who didn’t come from money. There was also the issue of me working for Jisung because Changbin would prefer it if I stayed at home, but that definitely wasn’t happening. I stood my ground against him, making my case until he had reluctantly relented, muttering something about how he had enough money to take care of both of us.

However, in neither of those cases had I ever went behind Changbin’s back to do something that I knew he would hate. Of course, I had also never wanted something as bad as the adorable puppy who had stolen my heart the minute she first wagged her tail while I carefully stroked the soft fur of her ears. “Changbin will understand,” I said to the puppy who cocked her head to the side as she watched me. “For now you can stay in here until I think of a better way to introduce you.”

Bang Chan was one of those people who never acted like he had enough money to buy the entire city of New York. He was funny and laid back, laughing with everyone despite whether or not they were a big donor or just an employee. He was one of Changbin’s best friends and he always invited the two of us to his parties at his extravagant condo. As an invitation-only affair, Chan’s parties had become the envy of anyone who was denied the opportunity to attend. More often than not, the parties became a friendly get-together which meant that some of Changbin’s other friends would also be attending. But Hyunjin and Felix always drank way too much beer to be considered appropriate for what was deemed a “suit and tie only” event.

“You look gorgeous,” Changbin said as we waited outside the door.

“Well, it’s hard not to look good in this dress,” I said because, despite my refusal, Changbin had insisted on buying it for me. Then again, I still wasn’t quite used to watching Changbin pull out his credit card for something that cost nearly half a million dollars.

“Aren’t you glad I bought it?” Changbin asked, reaching over to finger the delicate lace outlining the dress’ neckline.

“I’ll be even more satisfied when you take it off later,” I said casually, smirking at his sharp inhale as the door suddenly opened to reveal Chan standing on the other side.

“You’re late!” he lightly chastised us, pulling Changbin inside by the hand with more force than necessary. I grinned at the affectionate display, removing my jacket for the server who waited next to the entryway adorned in an elegant suit. “How was the meeting?” Chan asked, making easy conversation as he led us to a nearby waiter holding a tray of flutes filled with champagne.

“They liked the presentation,” Changbin replied, handing me a glass. “I think some of the new trustees favored the last approach.”

“Of course they do,” Chan nodded. “But you know that you can do whatever you want. It’s impossible to satisfy everyone.”

“I know,” Changbin said, curling an arm around my waist to keep me close to his side. Not that I minded considering the sea of unfamiliar faces who all swarmed to Changbin like he was a celebrity. I guess in their world he was, but it might be funny to tell them about how soft he got after I jerked him off under the sheets.

You see, Chan was the general manager of Changbin’s largest hotel and he always did his best to ease the burden that Changbin took responsibility for as he oversaw dozens of hotels and thousands of employees. Felix and Hyunjin also helped where they could, not just as friends but as personal assistants to Changbin at the main office. And I happen to know from experience that nobody made a better cup of coffee than Hwang Hyunjin.

Felix was also dating one of my best friends who I had introduced him to while Changbin and I were still dating, inviting a plus one for the grand opening of his very first hotel expansion. I was surprised when Felix demonstrated just how loving he could be because Changbin often told me horror stories of Felix’s more play boyish tendencies back when they went to college together. However, Felix had been nothing but polite and loving towards my friend since the moment the two first met over a few too many glasses of wine.

“Rina,” I smiled warmly, graciously accepting her invitation to talk outside on Chan’s balcony because the party was suffocating inside.

“Let me see the pictures!” my friend squealed, practically jerking the cell phone from my grasp. “Cute!” Rina declared, scrolling through my camera roll. “And Changbin doesn’t know? I really do admire you.”

“Well, if you were any louder, he might find out,” I said, checking over my shoulder to ensure that Changbin was still in deep conversation with Felix. “I heard you visited Felix’s parents the other day.”

Rina groaned, handing me back my phone. “I’m pretty sure they hate me. I made the worst impression possible.”

“What did you do?” I asked, rolling my eyes because Rina had a tendency to go overboard.

“Well, for one thing, when his mother asked for help with the food, I may have accidentally started a small kitchen fire.”

“You know, it really doesn’t matter if the fire is small or not.”

“Yeah,” Rina agreed sheepishly.

“Does that mean things are okay with between you and Felix?” I took a sip of my wine, thinking my question innocent enough until I heard Rina let out a shaky breath. “What is it?”

Rina shook her head, leaning out over the balcony. “Felix is acting weird these days. He comes home late now and he doesn’t bother paying me much attention.”

“Felix?” I immediately questioned because I wanted to make sure we were talking about the same boy who bought every single bouquet of roses in the flower shop on Main Street for their anniversary.

Rina suddenly moved in closer, eyes carefully ensuring that no voices were potentially listening. “I think Felix is cheating on me.”

“Rina,” I gasped because the accusation was incredibly serious. “Why would you think that? After he just took you home to his parents?”

“I think he just did that because I kept insisting,” Rina huffed. “I’m serious here, Y/N. There’s something going on with him.”

I wracked my brain for any indication that Felix might have said something to offer justification for Rina’s claim. “But how can you be sure?”

“I can’t,” Rina said. “That’s why I’m going into the office tomorrow night.”

“The office?”

“He’s probably meeting her there.”

“Who?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Rina hissed. “Felix comes home really late all of a sudden and he doesn’t talk to me about why?”

“That’s just how Felix is.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” Rina said, dismissing my comment. “I’m planning to follow him. See what he’s really doing.”

“Rina, this sounds like a horrible idea.”

“As bad as sneaking a dog into Changbin’s apartment?”

“They can’t even be compared,” I exclaimed. “And I plan to tell Changbin about the dog.”

“Good luck with that,” Rina sneered, fingers tapping the side of her wine glass. “Can you at least come with me tomorrow?”

“To spy on Felix?”

“As a precaution,” Rina said as if that improved the situation.

“Rina, you need to trust Felix. I don’t think he would do anything like this to hurt you.”

“Please, Y/N,” Rina said, reaching out for my hand. “Best friends are supposed to come before boys.”

“Don’t use that against me,” I said. “Besides, how do you expect us to just sneak into the office?”

“Leave that to me,” Rina said, patting my shoulder as if to show her appreciation. “Just tell your man that we’re going out for the night.”

“Fine, but you owe me big time.”

Nevertheless, why did it have to be so cold for our impromptu spy mission?

“Don’t say I never did anything nice for you,” I commented dryly, gazing out at Changbin’s office building from across the street. “We’re definitely going to get caught.”

“Not with that attitude,” Rina said. “Are you ready?”

“I suppose I have no choice,” I grumbled.

“Felix didn’t respond to my last message,” Rina said, already making her way out of the car. “But I saw that he was parked in the garage.”

“Changbin’s still here too,” I said with a shiver because I had been desperately hoping that my husband would leave on time for once. However, the moment he found out that I was going out with Rina, he called up Hyunjin and told him that tonight would make a great time to work on their new project. “At least he won’t accidentally wander into the guest bedroom and find Jane in the bathroom.”

“Wouldn’t that be hilarious though?” Rina giggled. “Changbin is going to throw a fit when he finds that dog.”

“He hasn’t noticed anything so far,” I said, although he came very close to suspicion in bed the other night when he realized that something that sounded a lot like barking was emanating through the walls.

“Y/N, you can’t hide that dog forever, but I need your full attention tonight,” Rina said, snapping her fingers while she pointed at the office near the top where Felix worked. “I have someone on the inside who’s gonna help us.”

I had a bad feeling about this mysterious insider that was only confirmed the moment Jeongin stepped outside to greet us at the front. “That figures,” I muttered because Jeongin practically idolized Rina who always showered him in affection. If Rina and Felix weren’t so obviously in love, Jeongin would be the first person to show up on Rina’s doorstep with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Changbin and Hyunjin are in a meeting,” Jeongin explained as he led us to the elevators. “Felix should still be in his office, but he mentioned something about leaving before I came downstairs.”

Jeongin was also Felix’s intern and I highly doubted that he would appreciate the younger’s blatant participation in Rina’s witch hunt. “Perfect,” Rina nodded. “Now tell Y/N about that woman that Felix keeps meeting with.”

Jeongin turned to me with a gasp. “I have no idea who she is, Y/N, but she’s showed up every day this week!”

“See!” Rina exclaimed, waving her hands around like she had suddenly solved the world’s greatest crisis.

“I don’t see anything,” I told her, stoically unmoved when we arrived at our designated floor. “Felix meets with a lot of people. I don’t know if you’re aware, but he kinda works for a pretty big business.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rina declared, heels loudly clicking against the floor as we followed our newly appointed Jeongin tour guide. He led us to one of the desks outside of Felix’s office, searching through some reports until he found what he was looking for, handing it to Rina. “This is the last spreadsheet for all the transactions from Felix’s company credit card.”

“They’re from the same restaurant,” Rina said, reading over the list with narrowed eyes.

“Business meetings,” I said.

“Or, he’s treating this homewrecker to sushi and bad soju,” Rina said. “What else do you have, Jeongin?”

The younger boy obediently knelt down to open another drawer, but let out a little gasp when he jerked on Rina’s arm and forced the two of them on the floor. “Get down!” he hissed, but I reacted late to his sudden warning, realizing my mistake a moment too late when Changbin was already calling my name from somewhere to my right.

“Distract him,” Rina whispered urgently, tugging on my jeans.

I rolled my eyes but tried to put on my best smile when Changbin stopped on the other side of Jeongin’s desk. “Y/N,” he said, clearly surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d visit you on my way home,” I lied smoothly, resisting the urge to kick out at Rina in her vulnerable position.

“Where’s Rina?” he asked, arms flexing enticingly in his tight-fit shirt.

“Probably at home,” I said, before trying on my best pout. “Are you not happy to see me?”

Changbin’s expression immediately softened. “Of course I am, Y/N,” he said. “I’m glad you came by. I’m leaving soon so we can ride home together.”

“Perfect,” I said, stepping away from the desk to eagerly lead Changbin further away from where my best friend was hiding. I also didn’t stop him when his strong arms encouraged me into the firm expanse of his chest, cologne heavy against his neck.

“Do you need anything?” Changbin asked while calling for the elevator.

I glanced over his shoulder at Jeongin who was trying to tell me something, but I quickly determined that he would be really bad at the whisper challenge. “I’m okay,” I said, clutching tightly to his arm as led me downstairs.

Seungmin and Minho were acceptable lunch buddies and despite their near-constant arguing, I still sat with them in the company’s cafeteria, enjoying whatever organic food they planned to serve that day. “How is the puppy, Y/N?” Seungmin asked over a mouthful of potatoes.

“She’s great,” I said, unable to resist a smile at the thought of my charming new friend.

“Does Changbin know?”

“Not yet,” I said, hesitantly poking at my salad. “But I have a plan to fix that tonight.”

“Is that so?” Minho butted in, studying me from across the table. “Maybe he could buy you a new apartment across the city.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said. “Because I plan to thoroughly convince him.”

“Sounds like an innuendo to me,” Minho said, reaching out for my hand. “Congratulations, Y/N, you’ve finally figured out the real purpose of marriage.”

“Manipulation,” Seungmin concluded.

“Stop it you two,” I groaned. “I’m not manipulating Changbin.”

“Seduction sounds like manipulation to me.”

“I’m merely encouraging him to change his mind,” I said, ignoring their unnecessary commentary.

“By dicking him down, I get it,” Minho nodded. “I’ve done the same things to my girlfriends.”

“No wonder you’re still single,” Seungmin said earning him a flick across his forehead. “Ow!”

“I’m sure Changbin has affection for animals somewhere deep down inside,” I continued. “He’ll be so much happier with a dog around the apartment.”

“Or he’ll be really furious,” Seungmin said. “I guess if you really need to return the puppy, I can always take her back.”

“No,” I whined at the thought. “We’ve already bonded.”

“Well, if it comes down between your bond with man’s best friend and the man, which would you rather choose?” Minho asked.

I really hated them both sometimes.

There were three things that Seo Changbin truly loved: 1. His family 2. His wife and 3. His wife in lingerie. Which is exactly what he was going to get the moment he stepped inside that door. Because tonight, I needed to do everything in my power to appeal to him.

I nodded in satisfaction as I studied my appearance in the floor-length mirror in our bedroom, adjusting the thin fabric of my stockings as they ran up the expanse of my thighs, attached to the garter belt Changbin had bought me for my birthday. Once I was satisfied, I tugged on a silky black robe, loosely tying the belt around the middle. “Perfect,” I declared.

Next, I made sure that Changbin’s favorite food was ready, table set with our finest cutlery. I also pulled out his favorite wine, filling two glasses while keeping the bottle cool in a bucket of ice. Finally, I lit a few candles around the table and the perimeter of the dining room, trying for a romantic mood since Changbin was secretly a huge fun of those extravagances.

“Do it for Jane, Y/N,” I whispered to myself, flinching when I heard the sound of Changbin’s key in the lock.

My husband called out my name and I directed him to the dining room, pleased when his eyes immediately froze on my attire. “Y/N?”

“Binnie,” I grinned, taking a seat on the edge of the table, kicking out one of the chairs as an invitation. “I made your favorite.”

Changbin tugged at the tie messily wrapped around his collar, taking my hint and planting himself down next to me. One hand caressed my exposed leg through the fabric of my robe while he looked up at me with dark eyes. “What’s all this for?”

“For you, of course,” I smiled, reaching back to grab a strawberry, holding it up to his lips.

Changbin took the offered fruit, eyes never leaving mine. “Is there something you want, Y/N?”

Changbin knew me too well, but I kept up the act, sliding down the table and into his lap. My thighs were planted on either side of his body and Changbin delicately traced the lace lining of my stockings to the place where they disappeared beneath fabric. “Does there have to be a reason?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“No,” Changbin agreed, eager hands working the belt of my robe. “But there usually is.” He was silent for a moment as he drew the sleeves down my shoulders, leaving me completely on display for his eyes to leisurely explore. “You can tell me, honey.”

“I can?” I asked breathlessly, planting kisses across his forehead while his fingers dug into my ass to pull me even closer.

“Whatever you want,” Changbin agreed, hands smoothing across the skin of my stomach while he started to slowly grind his hips against mine. He was impossibly hard beneath the tight material of his fitted slacks, cock moving perfectly in time with the little moans he forced out of me. I was practically drooling at the thought of Changbin’s cock, stretching my lips across the head and tasting his precum.

“Binnie,” I gasped, jittery fingers working apart the buttons on his shirt to reveal the smooth skin of his chest, groping my hands against his defined pectoral muscles.

“Yeah, baby?” he said, reaching up to taste my lips. “You want me to fuck you on the table?”

“Please,” I whimpered, holding onto his biceps to feel his impossible strength while he practically manhandled me into place, looming over my trembling body while his eyes made a luxury trip of exploring my exposed skin. I wrapped my legs around his waist to encourage him closer, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock...

“Did you hear that?”

I froze under him, detecting resistance from Changbin whose eyes were now devoid of lust as he lifted his head in concentration. It was then that I heard it, an alarmingly loud whine from Jane in the guest bedroom which was suddenly way too close to ignore.

Changbin immediately stopped everything he was doing. “Please tell me you can hear it too?”

“Hear what?” I asked nervously, attempting to draw his attention back to me and it might have worked had Jane not decided to let out a series of playful barks and I suddenly regretted leaving her alone with a new toy.

“It’s something,” Changbin said, tone much darker as he ordered me to unwrap my legs from their vicelike grip around his waist. I obeyed hesitantly because my plan was falling apart at the seams and I had a bad feeling about what might happen next.

Slowly, I followed him as he marched to the guest bedroom, opening the door like a man on a mission. And I doubt I’ll ever forget the way Jane immediately darted from the bathroom, sniffing Changbin’s shoes before waddling in my direction, plastic bone hanging from her mouth. “Y/N,” Changbin said, watching me as I picked up Jane off the floor. “Do you mind explaining to me why there’s a dog in the guest room?”

“It’s nothing bad,” I said, holding even tighter to Jane. “I may have adopted her-”

“What!” Changbin cut me off with a sharp interrogative. “How long has it been living here?”

“She,” I corrected him, “has been living here for a week or so...”

“A week!” Changbin exclaimed. “You’ve kept a dog hidden in here for a week?”

“Well, I didn’t plan on hiding her forever,” I said, fingers moving nervously through Jane’s soft fur.

“Get rid of it,” Changbin barked, looking every bit the intimidating CEO whose annual salary easily eclipsed my entire family net worth.

“Changbin,” I said softly. “Please don’t say that.”

“This is my house,” Changbin growled. “And I will not have it trashed by that thing.”

“I thought it was my house too?” I asked with narrowed eyes.

Changbin seemed taken aback, but he was not deterred for long. “Of course it is, but you know I don’t want any animals living here.”

“But she’s really clean,” I said. “And I’m training her every day!”

“I don’t care,” Changbin snapped. “I want to see it gone tomorrow morning, do you understand?”

“Changbin,” I whimpered, eyes clouding with the promise of tears. “You said you’d give me whatever I want.”

I know it sounds selfish, but I was growing increasingly desperate as it became more and more apparent that Changbin had already made up his mind. “I meant something like clothes, Y/N,” Changbin said. “Not a living pest.”

“She’s not a pest,” I insisted. “Jane is really sweet.”

“Oh great, you’ve named it,” Changbin grumbled, reaching for his cellphone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Animal control,” Changbin muttered and I immediately reacted.

“Don’t call them!” I exclaimed. “At least give her a better home than that horrible place.”

“Then find her one,” Changbin said. “You get one week before I handle it myself.”

“What an asshole,” I snarled.

“I agree,” Rina nodded, offering Jane a few treats when my puppy clambered onto the sofa next to us. In spite of Changbin’s dismissal, I found a refugee for both myself and Jane in Rina’s shared apartment with Felix. “I don’t see what the big deal is anyway. Changbin can’t possibly be that averse to something so cute.”

“It’s not like I brought home a child,” I said, frowning at my phone screen when Changbin sent yet another text message. “I hope he knows I’m not coming home tonight. If he kicks Jane out, then I’m leaving too.”

“You can keep me company instead,” Rina said. “Felix never comes around anymore so it’s just like college again.”

“Except we have more than just ramen in the kitchen.”

“Not to mention this sweetie,” Rina added, lifting Jane into her arms. “Who needs a man around anyway?”

“At least your man is okay with Jane living here for a few days,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to ask Seungmin to take her back.”

“You shouldn’t have to, Y/N,” Rina sighed. “It’s unfortunate that Changbin hates the puppies. I’d even keep Jane for myself but I think she’d be much happier with someone who isn’t prone to forgetting to even feed herself.”

I snorted. “That would be better than the pound. Can you believe he tried to call animal control?”

“Seo Changbin?” Rina snickered. “Nothing he does surprises me. This is the same person who rented out an entire restaurant just to propose to you.”

“Don’t bring up our happy memories,” I complained. “I’m supposed to be mad at him right now.”

“Then be mad at him,” Rina shrugged. “Honestly speaking, if he can’t see how important this is to you, then he doesn’t deserve to call you his wife in the first place.”

“This isn’t a deal-breaker,” I said. “I just wish he would understand how I feel.”

“Analytical types like Changbin are incapable of empathy,” Rina said. “It’s a proven fact, Y/N. He’ll still think he’s right when the two of you are retired somewhere in a tropical paradise.”

“Ugh, he’s so stubborn.”

“Takes after his mother in that regard,” Rina said. “Remember at your wedding? She bawled her eyes out after giving that horrible speech where she basically implied that you were stealing away her only son.”

“She’s the mistress of Evil,” I nodded. “They share that characteristic. Both of them can be downright mean when they want to be.”

“I guess that’s why Changbin has been so successful,” Rina said. “Still doesn’t take away from the fact that he sometimes seems to forget you're his wife and not a stockholder.”

I let out a deep breath. “What about you and Felix?”

“Oh, he’s still distant and I’m half-way convinced that I’m being replaced by a supermodel with bigger tits.”

“I don’t think Felix would be that shallow.”

“I know,” Rina said, palming her breasts through her shirt. “They’re pretty big, right?”

“He doesn’t care about that,” I said. “And if I wasn’t so pissed at Changbin, I might ask him about this mystery girl.”

“We’ll have to go through the middle man,” she said, offering me a knowing look.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” we both agreed in perfect synchronization.

Luring Hyunjin out of the office building was as easy as promising a free lunch at his favorite restaurant. And when Hyunjin discovered that he would be meeting with both myself and Rina, he immediately jumped at the opportunity. Because Hwang Hyunjin was one of the most overdramatic people I knew and he never missed an opportunity to ensconce himself in everyone else's problems. “You know, Y/N,” he said through a sip of wine. “It would be nice if you at least pretended to like Changbin. He’s always intolerable at the office whenever the two of you fight.”

“I can’t even pretend to like him right now,” I said. “And, if you feel so inclined, you can pass on the message to him that I won’t be coming home tonight.”

“Oh, I can’t do that,” Hyunjin said, but it was impossible to miss the spark of mischief in his eyes. “Should I?”

“You can kick Changbin’s ass for all we care,” Rina said, already working through her third glass of chardonnay.

“But, of course, that’s not the reason we invited you here,” I said, earning me a curious look in return.

“It’s about Felix,” Rina said through gritted teeth. “And don’t bother trying to cover for him, Hyunjin, because you’re a terrible liar.”

“What did he do wrong this time?” Hyunjin scoffed, seemingly indifferent as he took a bite of his organic salad.

“That blonde he keeps meeting in the office,” Rina said, always ready to get straight to the matter at hand. “Who the hell is she?”

Hyunjin visibly blanched, choking on his current mouthful while desperately trying to wash down the rest of his glass. “What?”

“The. Blonde,” Rina repeated. “I know everything, so don’t try to hide the truth from me.”

“If you knew everything, you wouldn’t be asking me,” Hyunjin pointed out.

“Just tell me who she is!” Rina exclaimed, loud enough to attract the attention of several tables.

Hyunjin wilted under their accusatory stares. “I can’t tell you.”

“Hwang Hyunjin,” Rina started, hands clasping the edge of the table. “Don’t you dare try to cover up your friend’s extracurricular affairs.”

“Felix isn’t cheating on you,” Hyunjin snapped. “I can’t believe you would even think that.”

“It’s not hard to,” Rina defended herself, “when everyone is walking on eggshells around me. I feel like I’m in the middle of something but I’m not even allowed to know what it is!”

“Rina,” Hyunjin tried again, tone visibly calmer. “Trust me on this. Felix isn’t cheating on you and everything will start to make a lot of sense.”

I studied my friend, but she seemed completely unmoved, expression fierce as she glared down at her untouched plate of food.

My mother’s house was located almost an hour away from where Changbin and I lived in the city. My visits were less frequent because of the combination of distance and my inability to leave work early because Jisung couldn’t handle the office without me. But, since I needed someone to take care of Jane, I knew my mother might be the best solution. She also didn’t hesitate when I asked to spend the night away from Changbin. However, my mother was prone to exceeding selfishness when it came to spending time with me.

In any case, it was the last time I would be able to get away with my nightly escapades because Rina had brought me an invitation that morning to join herself, Felix, and several of their friends for a getaway at the beach. I reluctantly agreed to come since Felix insisted that it was important and Rina demanded she has her “partner in crime” next to her side all weekend. But I would be expected to share a room with Changbin which meant we would either argue even more or ignore each other awkwardly at every available opportunity.

The last time Changbin and I went anywhere with Felix and Rina was back when Changbin first started the company. We ended up stuck inside our hotel because it rained endlessly for the entire week we visited the Florida Keys. On the plus side, I did manage to watch a lot of good movies at the theatre, including a horror classic that was made even better when Changbin decided to stick his hand up my skirt. I’m pretty sure the couple next to us knew exactly what we were doing, and it was worth it to watch their expressions when I accidentally moaned during an intense scene involving a ghost and a clueless teenager.

Nevertheless, I usually loved going on trips with Changbin because he always planned the best surprises. Too bad he had already ruined this one because of his, for lack of a better term, “assholish” tendencies. And poor Jane shouldn’t have to suffer along with everyone else just because my husband hated cute animals.

“Y/N,” my mother grinned brightly, encouraging me inside while I carried Jane in my arms. “Isn’t she adorable!”

“At least some people think so,” I grumbled, putting Jane on the floor so that she could make herself comfortable.

“I can’t believe Changbin told you to get rid of her.”

“Really?” I huffed, leaning against the wall. “You were the one that warned me he would be, and I quote, a pompous ass.”

“Well,” my mother grimaced, “I thought he might prove me wrong.”

“And I’ll be stuck in the same room with him all weekend,” I groaned. “Felix and Rina owe me big time.”

“Or,” my mother allowed, “maybe you should thank them. The trip is a good opportunity to put this argument to rest.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Honestly, Y/N, I know he was harsh, but you’re the one who went and got a dog behind his back. Plus, Jane can just stay here with me. It gives you a good excuse to visit more often.”

“You’re only saying that because you got a cute new puppy,” I muttered.

“Sweetheart,” my mother cooed, carefully guiding me to the counter. “I’ll always have your back, and I’d like to believe that I’m still the only person who can take care of you, but I think Changbin stole that title a long time ago.”

“He’s just infuriating sometimes,” I said.

My mother laughed. “All men are, Y/N, and you know you’ll have fights with Changbin. That’s what married couples do. The important thing is that the two of you can always come back together and forgive, even if the matter at hand is this cute.”

I grinned when my mother reached down to collect Jane into her arms. “I still don’t get how someone can hate a puppy.”

“Perhaps not hate,” my mother said. “But you should respect his opinion, even if you don’t agree with it.”

“He never asks me for anything,” I sighed. “I guess I made this into a bigger deal than it needed to be.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, you definitely get that from me,” my mother said. “Now, about you spending the night...”

“Yeah, I get it,” I grumbled. “I should go back home.”

“It’s not exactly mature of you to run away from him,” my mother pointed out as if I didn’t already feel guilty enough. “And it only makes it that much harder to fix things when you keep avoiding them.”

“Fine, I’ll go home,” I said, pulling out my phone to send Changbin a brief message. “You’re all wise and old now.”

My mother frowned. “Sweetheart, I don’t consider myself old.”

“Mom, the last time we went shopping, you had me come pick you up at the mall entrance because you didn’t feel like walking to the car.”

“Well, everyone has those days,” my mother said. “In any case, I should find somewhere for Jane to stay. Her mom is certainly welcome to come over any time.”

“Pretty sure her mom is Seungmin, but I appreciate the thought,” I said, lifting Jane from the ground to bring her closer. “You won’t forget about me, right?”

Jane considered with wide eyes before cautiously offering me a small lick on the cheek. “Yeah, I think we can make this work.”

Changbin’s car was already parked in his usual spot when I pulled into the complex. I was hoping he would stay at the office longer, but he probably left the moment he received my message. Straightening the hem of my skirt, I carefully entered the apartment, inwardly groaning when I could hear the sounds of the TV from the living room. I was still quiet when I shuffled across the carpet, but apparently, Changbin had been waiting on me. “Babe,” he murmured quietly as I passed by the couch.

Whispering a curse, I turned around to look at Changbin whose eyes were struggling to open as if he had been asleep when I came home. “Sorry,” I said in return, forcing my eyes to look away from his exposed chest, firm edges made softer under the light from the LED screen.

I made my way to our bedroom, deciding to pack as efficiently as possible because I was starting to get a headache which meant I wanted nothing more than to pass out on the bed. “Y/N,” Changbin spoke up softly, lingering by the door as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “How was your mother?”

“Fine,” I answered shortly, moving around our bedroom as quickly as possible because I was determined to avoid any sort of conversation with Changbin, cramming my t-shirts into the stupid designer suitcase he had bought for me.

“Are you tired?” he asked, looking irresistible with his messy hair and puffy cheeks.

“Yeah,” I said, carefully zipping my suitcase closed. I brought it next to his at the side of our dresser.

Changbin took a few more steps into the room, pausing next to the bed while I changed clothes quickly. “Is it alright if I sleep with you tonight?”

I really wanted to tell him, no, but it was rather difficult to refuse him when he was being sweet. At least he obviously understood that he was wrong for screaming at me like I was one of his assistants instead of his wife. “You can,” I told him, already pulling back the sheets of the comforter.

And I didn’t even resist when he climbed in behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist because he liked to keep me close in bed. “Y/N,” he whispered in my ear, fingers curling with mine. “You can keep the dog when we get back.”

“Binnie,” I murmured, attempting to protest because I wasn’t expecting Changbin to give in so easily. He really does give me whatever I want.

“It’s alright,” Changbin said, tenderly squeezing my waist, breath warm against the back of my neck. “We can talk about it later.” The combination of his familiar presence and the lovely feel of his fingers pulling through my hair was enough to lure me into a much-needed sleep.

Early morning flights were a pain in the ass and I was no exception to the demonizing effects of insomnia, especially when I felt guilty because Changbin had agreed to let me keep Jane only after I avoided him for several days. We didn’t talk about it on the drive to the airport. In fact, we didn’t talk much at all as Changbin turned up the volume on the radio while he drove with tired eyes. It had probably been difficult for him to take the whole weekend off for Felix’s getaway trip, and I hadn’t bothered to ask him how he was feeling.

Felix and Rina were waiting for us at the security line when we arrived with a few minutes to spare. Apparently, Hyunjin and Chan were already at the loading gate since they had arrived much earlier than everyone else. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone out of town together,” Rina remarked as she pulled me away from Changbin, leaving him to talk quietly with Felix.

“Excluding the first beach disaster?”

“Definitely,” Rina agreed, tossing an arm around my shoulders. “I convinced Felix to switch tickets with you. Now, my best friend can sit next to me instead.”

I nodded in reply since I had actually been looking forward to an opportunity to talk with Changbin on the airplane. It was probably best for both of us if we talked about what happened. Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a rather stupid argument that definitely could have been avoided if I had been less inconsiderate of Changbin’s feelings. They might seem irrational, but they mattered and that’s all I could think about for the entirety of our flight to the island.

And if I thought I’d get a chance to talk to him when we landed, I was proven wrong. Because Felix enforced a tight schedule, barely allowing any of us to get settled in at the resort before he was already ordering us to change into something comfortable for the beach. The hotel itself was situated right on the shoreline, busy with fellow travelers looking to enjoy what was already becoming a gorgeous afternoon. And since Changbin happened to own the place, we were treated to the best care with a constant presence of wait staff who brought us drinks and food. “You get five stars, Changbin,” Rina remarked as she sat between Felix’s legs on his beach chair. “I see why everybody makes a big deal out of your expensive hotels now.”

“You’re welcome,” Changbin grumbled from where the two of us were situated on a comfortable beach towel. Changbin had long since dismissed his t-shirt, tentatively requesting that I apply a generous amount of sunscreen to his skin. And no matter how I felt towards Changbin, I would never turn down the opportunity to run my hands against the gorgeous muscles that supplied his well-built torso.

In the meantime, Hyunjin and Chan were arguing about whether or not the hotel in New York needed the same kind of luxury swimming pool that the six of us had spotted on our way outside. “If I knew they would be this loud, I would have left them behind,” Felix said, sunglasses resting on the brim of his nose.

“It’s Hyunjin, what did you expect?” Rina said, watching the two older boys bicker.

I nodded vacantly, growing tried from the influence of the sun. “What’s this surprise all about, Felix?” Rina asked her boyfriend, eyebrow raised in question.

Changbin jumped from his spot in front of me and I was startled when I realized I had massaged over his nipples. “You’ll see,” Felix said, a proud smirk making him look just as mischievous as he had been when we first met.

I couldn’t see Rina’s reaction since her glasses obscured most of her face. “Are you really going to keep me waiting?”

“Just until tonight, love,” Felix said, reassuring her with a gentle kiss that had my heart aching in my chest for Changbin despite him being in such close proximity.

I spent most of the early evening with Rina, wasting time shopping as we waited for our dinner reservations. “What do you think?” Rina asked, holding up a sundress that barely fell below her thighs.

“No,” I said, returning my attention to the magazine in front of me.

“Changbin has made you way too conservative,” she griped before disappearing back into the changing room. “But you seemed more relaxed around him today.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think I owe him an apology.”

“What for?” Rina asked. “He’s the one who almost sent for animal control to handle an innocent puppy.”

“I never should have tried to hide Jane in the first place,” I said. “Changbin doesn’t ask for much and I should have respected his preference.”

“Wow, since when have you grown up?” Rina asked, re-emerging from the dressing room. “That’s awfully mature of you.”

“I love him,” I nodded. “And that means more to me than anything else in the world.”

“Including me?” Rina feigned hurt while dramatically falling against a nearby display of sneakers.

I rolled my eyes, checking the time on my phone. “We should probably meet the others.”

“Alright,” Rina grumbled. “But I’m afraid of what Felix might say at dinner.”

“What makes you think it’s a bad thing?” I asked.

“Where have you been, Y/N? Don’t you remember all the drama? Felix avoiding me? Coming home late? Does any of this ring a bell?”

“I thought you moved on from that.”

“Never,” Rina insisted while curling her arm through mine. “I’m still on high alert.”

“You know how Felix can get sometimes,” I said.

“Of course I do! But he’s never acted like this before,” Rina insisted.

“Well, maybe you’ll get your answers tonight,” I said, leading her into the crowded seafood restaurant on the lower level of the hotel.

It must have bee massively popular because guests were patiently waiting in large parties scrambled throughout the main lobby. Rina and I fought our way to the hostess, allowing her to check our reservation before graciously leading us further away from the rampant group of hungry customers who were all attempting to talk over one another. Instead, the hostess brought us to a private room, clearly the work of Seo Changbin, where the others were already seated.

“Finally!” Hyunjin exclaimed. “Felix wouldn’t let us order until you got here.”

Felix ignored his friend, pulling out a chair for Rina. I could tell he was visibly nervous which was certainly concerning because Felix was one of the most confident people I knew. He was the friend in Changbin’s board meetings who was never shy about speaking up. The one person you could always rely on to sweet talk an additional 5% off our coffee bill in the main lobby because he only had to smile at the poor cashier working the register.

I glanced over at Changbin who was busy scanning the menu in front of him. Changbin didn’t seem worried at all which was reassuring, although it definitely didn’t mean that Felix necessarily told Changbin what he was planning for tonight. And the longer I studied the younger boy fidgeting in his seat, the more curious I became.

“You know, Chan,” Hyunjin said. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring that girl with you. Aren’t the two of you moving in together?”

I perked up at this new information. “Chan has a serious girlfriend?”

Chan and I had known each other for several years, but I was starting to conclude that the older man was planning to stay single for the rest of his life. Not that Chan didn’t make an elegant bachelor because the combination of his appealing good-looks, charming accent, and accumulating wealth was enough to cement his status. But then again, it might be nice to see Chan in a committed relationship because he would make the best father.

“It’s not that serious,” Chan said bashfully, ears tipped in red as he glanced around for the waitress.

“Whatever,” Hyunjin huffed, glancing between Felix and Rina with a barely concealed smirk. “You guys look great together.”

Felix glared at his friend. “You’re determined to spoil everything, aren’t you?”

“What does that mean?” Rina inquired, studying Felix curiously.

“Nothing,” Hyunjin said, immediately turning to me and Changbin. “Are the two of you still fighting?”

“Hyunjin,” I growled his name, determined once and for all that Hyunjin was intentionally trying to stir up more drama for his viewing pleasure.

“We’re alright,” Changbin said in a surprisingly gentle voice, one arm coming to rest across the back of my chair. “Here,” Changbin said, pulling my plate closer so that he could cut a few pieces of steak for me. “Your favorite.”

I blushed at his kindness, stuffing my mouth full of tender meant to avoid having to say anything in return. Thankfully, Felix was more than ready to interrupt our moment, abruptly standing up from his chair with a glass of wine in hand. “Everyone,” he said, immediately silencing our small party. “I have something to announce.”

I glanced over at Rina from the corner of my eyes, watching as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. A nervous habit she picked up from countless nights of writing 10,000-word essays for our history seminar. “Rina,” Felix said, addressing my friend. “We’ve been together for a while.”

Rina nodded, seemingly frozen in place. At least until Felix dropped down onto one knee next to her, pulling out a beautiful gold-encrusted wedding band with diamonds circling the outside. “Marry me.”

My expression of shock likely mirrored Rina’s while Hyunjin clapped like a maniac from across the table. “Thank god! The secret is finally out!”

“Felix,” Rina finally managed, eyes growing cloudy with the promise of tears while she held out a shaky hand. Felix gently accepted her outstretched limb, sliding the ring into place on her finger.

“I’ll consider that a yes.”

I immediately turned to Changbin who was watching the two of them with fond eyes. It was quite obvious that he also knew about the proposal and I admired my husband’s ability to help his friend make this weekend so special. Changbin met my gaze with a beautiful smile, reaching underneath the table to take my hand without hesitation.

It was late when the six of us finally left the restaurant, listening to Rina gush over her new ring while clinging to Felix’s side persistently. Changbin and I lingered at the back, shoulders brushing with every step while keeping our pinky fingers interlocked between us. “That woman!” Rina suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a familiar blonde standing behind the concierge counter.

“She’s the hotel’s general manager,” Felix explained, sending a wave in her direction.

“Oh,” Rina said dumbly and my friend was very rarely caught off-guard. I definitely couldn’t wait to offer her a well-deserved “I told you so” when we met for breakfast in the morning. However, for the time being, I wanted nothing more than to go back to the room with Changbin.

“I can’t thank her enough,” Felix continued. “She’s been very helpful when it came to planning all of this.”

“Really?”

“She deserves a raise, Changbin,” Felix said, nudging his friend as the six of us broke off into smaller groups as we returned to our assigned rooms.

“Congratulations, Rina,” I said to my friend, watching her join Felix in the suite across from ours.

I waited until we were truly alone before I closed the door quietly, turning around to find Changbin fiddling with the lock on his Rolex. “Let me,” I said quietly, gliding across the floor to handle the delicate switch with nimble fingers.

“Thanks,” Changbin said, dropping the watch on top of the nightstand.

“Changbin,” I spoke up hesitantly. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

My husband shrugged, broad shoulders tense against the fit of his shirt. “It’s alright, Y/N.”

“No, it’s not,” I said, reaching out for his wrist to turn him around. “You didn’t deserve that, especially over something that was my fault to begin with.”

Changbin sighed, tugging me closer against him. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

I pressed my forehead against the center of his chest. “You never ask me for much. In fact, you’re always the one who gives the most in our relationship. I should have respected your opinion. Instead, I went behind your back and I’ve felt guilty about it for the entire trip.”

“There’s no need for that,” Changbin insisted, fingers curling through my hair. “We’ve both made mistakes, but I can never stay mad at you for long.”

“I’ll let my mom have the dog,” I said, pressing my fingers against his plush lips before he could interrupt. “I’m serious. She’s much happier with Jane. Maybe, later on, we could try something smaller? Like a hamster!”

Changbin grimaced at the thought and I laughed at his expression. “Unless you just want me all to yourself.”

“That’s not it,” Changbin sighed. “I just don’t want that responsibility. Plus, I really don’t like the idea of a dog or cat in the apartment.”

“Well, I can always visit my mom when I want to see Jane,” I said, reaching up to fix the messy strands of his hair. “See? A compromise.”

Changbin smirked, leaning down for a kiss. “You make a better negotiator than I do. Maybe you should be in charge of the board.”

“I’ll let you handle things,” I said, running my hands along his stomach to the waistband of his jeans.

“I meant it when I said I would do anything to make you happy,” Changbin whispered against my hair. “Even if that means I have to fill the apartment with dogs.”

I grinned. “I like what we have now, Changbin.”

“That’s so cheesy,” he accused me, laughing when I whined in response. “I love you, Y/N,” he said.

“I love you too,” I said. “You’re basically just a giant puppy anyway.”

Changbin grunted as his hands gripped the back of my thighs. “Please don’t say that when I’ve already started making plans to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

I shivered at his seductive promise. “Oh yeah? I guess you’ll just have to prove it to me.”

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #seo changbin #seo changbin fanfic #seo changbin smut

502 notes · View notes

pixelfun20 · 4 years ago

Text

Flower Fields: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Notes: Again, all credit to @give-grian-rights (hope you don’t mind the tag!) for the concept! Thank you so much! Also almost forgot to post this on Tumblr rip.

No fighting wars, no ringing chimes

We're just feeling fine

Tubbo started out by building his starter base.

It was a concept he’d learned about while living with Xisuma, and it was quite a good one, too. After all, megabases worthy of Hermitcraft’s admittedly lofty standards often took months to build, and he’d need somewhere to live in the meantime. In Season 6, he’d neglected that fact, and had suffered his fair share of mob deaths before he put up four walls and a ceiling to protect himself, back when he’d left to live on his own. And that was with a small, quickly-thrown together base, not the project he was currently planning.

Still, even setting up the basics of his starter base took a few nearly sleepless days. Finally, the framework for the build, a treehouse spanning more than a few trees at the edge of the forest, was up, and Tubbo was finally able to place a bed down in safety and sleep for a solid fourteen hours straight.

Xisuma dropped by, quite literally, a day or so later.

Tubbo had been sitting in his quickly-expanding living room, sorting through the loot he’d gotten from yesterday’s day-long mining session when he swooped down through the half-finished roof. While he was still wearing his bee-themed armor, now there were two glider-like wings, shimmering purple, strapped to his back.

“Heya, X,” Tubbo greeted the admin with a wave, closing one of his chests. “You got elytra already?”

“Tango and I defeated the Ender Dragon yesterday,” Xisuma replied, touching down softly. Tubbo made an ‘ah’ sound, recalling the achievement he’d seen out of the corner of his eye the other day. Right; he’d forgotten about that. Trust X to be as efficient as possible and defeat one of the toughest monsters in the world just for the ease of travel.

“I’ll have to go endbusting soon, then,” he said, more to himself than X. Before the elder man could protest (ah, he was getting good at noticing when he was going to), he added: “Stress and xB have already asked me to go with them, so don’t worry , alright?”

“Good,” Xisuma sighed. “It’s never a good idea to go out on your own, especially since this’ll be your first time seriously exploring the End.”

Tubbo rolled his eyes good naturedly. To be fair, he hadn’t gone out to the End before it had been conquered before. He’d had a fair few trips last Season, mostly with X, but it was generally for the XP farm once it’d been set up. He’d never left the main island before. Now that he had considerably more freedom at the beginning of the Season, he was excited to go exploring.

“Anything bring you over?” He asked, changing the subject.

Xisuma nodded. “Yeah. A bunch of the others are getting together for some sort of wrestling tournament this weekend.”

“And I’ve been invited?!” He grinned, clapping his hands together.

“As the referee.”

“Ah,” he pouted. “Darn.”

“Don’t worry,” Xisuma chuckled, setting down a shulker box. “It can be a lot funner to watch sometimes; I’m just going to be part of the audience, too. I think Doc wanted you because he thinks he can bribe you.”

“He can not !”

Xisuma raised an eyebrow. “Area 77.”

“Oh, that’s not fair. I am completely unbiased!”

“And that was why you became their lawyer and not for all the cool experiments they had. I don’t think Cleo has forgiven you for defeating her in court.”

“No one can defeat Big Law,” Tubbo sniffed, faux-offended, and Xisuma laughed. “Well, I’ll show him!” He declared, crossing his arms. “I’ll just have to make sure he loses, then!” Xisuma blinked, and he laughed. “Kidding! Kidding!” Mostly .

“So you’re going?”

“Sure! It’s nice to see the Hermits all in one place, anyways. What’s in the shulker?”

Xisuma tilted his head teasingly. “What do you think? Someone had to get the supplies for our honey farm.”

Tubbo gaped. “You’re ready to build farms already?! Man, and I thought I was ahead of the game with just having my base halfway done.”

The armored man shrugged, looking about the partially completed build. “Well, you’ve certainly put more effort into this than me. Truly, your building skills are already improving. I love how you’re styling the roof with peaks like you are; it looks like it took a while.”

“My last house had a roof like that, too,” Tubbo reminded him, glancing up as well. It had become a tradition, of sorts, to build curved, peaked roofs onto his builds. Last season it had been one of the few things he’d built slowly to make look as good as possible. In all honesty, it was his own way of honoring the person who’d made it possible for him to come here, to have a life worth living once again. Rushing through the technique just felt disrespectful.

“Yes, but you’ve definitely gotten better.” Xisuma bent down over the shulker box, checking its contents. “Do you have any good ideas for where to make the bee farm? I’ll admit, I’ve been a bit too busy to scout out a good area.”

“Really? Then where’d you get these guys?”

“Tree farming in the desert.”

Tubbo snorted into his hand, and he could practically feel Xisuma’s embarrassment. “Well, you did say you hadn’t scouted out a good spot.”

“Indeed I did.”

“I can take a look around here and see what I can find. Meadows are supposed to be excellent places for farming bees, right?”

“Indeed it is,” Xisuma agreed. “Do you have plans for your megabase, yet?”

Tubbo nodded, grinning. “And trust me, it’s going to be awesome .”

............

Two days later, a chicken appeared in his base. Tubbo found it laying an egg in what was starting to become the base’s storage area, with one of his shirts nearly ripped to shreds in what appeared to be a makeshift nest.

There was a nametag wrapped around its leg. After some chicken wrangling and a few feathers to the face, he got a good look at it and realized there wasn’t a name written there, but a set of coordinates.

A set of coordinates rather far away, but who was he to turn down such an intriguing mystery?

With the chicken now renamed Wilbur and placed in a pen (he’d needed a chicken farm anyways), Tubbo set out that morning with a few supplies to find the spot he was looking for. After crossing a fair bit of forest and ocean, by the next day he’d found himself cutting his way through the underbrush of an overgrown jungle and wondering why in the world Stress had wanted to wait a week before going to get their elytra.

He pushed a few low-hanging vines out of the way, checking his communicator for the upteenth time. He was getting closer, now. This better be worth going out a few hundred chunks in the middle of nowhere—hey, wait a minute!

There was smoke in the distance. He could just make it out through the leaves, and now that he concentrated, he could smell it, too. Tubbo rushed forwards, pushing through the brush to see several man-made wooden pillars sticking out. As he pressed forwards, he made out a semi-stone floor, several chests, and a small fire in the middle, explaining the smoke.

“What is this?” He asked himself, looking around the place. The coordinates were right, and yet no one was here. Just this outpost in the middle of the jungle.

Tubbo walked around. There were some papers pinned to the wall, and a few dispensers lying around. Idly he pressed the buttons on them, already starting to form a plan to enact revenge on whoever made him travel over a day to get this place.

He pressed the button on the dispenser in the middle of the build and nearly got an arrow to the face.

Tubbo yelped, his reflexes, honed from a half year of training, the only thing saving him from a sudden death. A bell rang behind him, but it took him a few more moments to calm his racing heart.

“Not funny! You nearly took my head off!” He shouted to the jungle. Still, he didn’t leave, instead turning to the bell the arrow had his, examining it. Huh.

There were some cookies in one of the chests, probably left behind by whoever had actually built the place. He nibbled on it, only half hungry, as he tried to examine the place better.

“HERMIT CHALLENGES!”

Tubbo shrieked , dropping the remains of his cookie as the voice rang through the forest air. He looked around, trying to find the source, but found that he couldn’t.

“INITIATION!”

A diamond-clad figure dropped out of the vines above, landing with a firm thud on one of the ground dispensers. He nearly lost his balance before righting himself with a huff.

“Mumbo!” Tubbo exclaimed, a little annoyed but mostly impressed.

“INITIATION!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “HERMIT CHALLENGES! YOU ARE BEING INDUCTED.”

“How long have you been up there?! It took me over a day to get here.”

“No matter, Mr. Tubbo! Congratulations! You’re in!”

“...Thanks?”

“Of course, my friend! You have been inducted into Hermit Challenges! Of course, you could have eaten the entire cookie—” he glanced down at the crumbs at Tubbo’s feet. “But besides that you have acted perfectly.”

“Wait, what is Hermit Challenges?” Tubbo asked, blinking. What? This version of Mumbo was almost nothing like the Mumbo he’d seen at Spawn a mere week and a half ago. Who used chickens to deliver messages? Or perch in a tree for supposed hours on end?

Okay, he had to admit, that last one was pretty funny.

“Oh, it’s a game I’ve made up,” Mumbo continued. “Iskall and I have already had a go at it, and I figured I’d invite you next.”

“...Alright, then. How do I play?”

“It’s simple! Write down three challenges and put them in the dispenser. Then we’ll pick one at random from each other.”

Mumbo reached into one of the chests on the ground, taking out a sheath of paper and passing three to him with a pen. Tubbo looked at him, and Mumbo grinned.

“Go on! I’m sure you’ll have something fun in that head of yours.”

Ah, he was right. Tubbo gave in with a smile, leaning back and thinking briefly about what he wanted to challenge Mumbo. A few ideas came to mind, and he quickly scribbled them down, pushing them into one of the two dispensers on the side of the small build, Mumbo doing the same.

“Alright, then!” Mumbo announced with a smile. “You go first.”

Tubbo stepped towards Mumbo’s dispenser and clicked the button, causing a slip of paper to slide out. He unrolled it, then read it out loud.

“‘Steal everyone’s front doors for the rest of the season.’ What? The whole season?!”

Mumbo laughed. “Oh, that one! Man, you got the hardest one from me!”

“Well, I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what you’ll get from me.”

“We’ll see,” Mumbo said with a chuckle. He moved across the platform, and pressed the button the dispenser Tubbo had put his challenges in. The dispenser whirred, and then another slip of paper popped out. Mambo picked it up and read off of it, face contorting as he did so. “...‘Act like you don’t believe in the moon for the next two weeks, and claim the sky is a hologram put up by the SCA (Secret Chickens Agency) to keep us from seeing the real overlords- the sky chickens.’ What?”

Tubbo snickered at that, covering his mouth with one hand. Oh, he was proud of that one.

“No, seriously, this is awfully specific.”

“What? It’s funny!”

“Funny for you!” But Mumbo was smiling, and Tubbo grinned back at him.

“I’m going to be having a fun few weeks,” he giggled.

“So am I,” Mumbo agreed with a raised eyebrow, tucking the slip of paper away. He clapped Tubbo’s shoulder. “I suppose I’ll have to make up a good story to go with this prompt.”

“And I have some doors to steal!” Tubbo laughed.

“Whoever gets the first complaint in chat wins?”

“You’re on!”

#tubbo #tubbolive #hermitcraft #mcyt #xisumavoid #mumbo jumbo #hermit challenges #fluff #Hermit!Tubbo AU #watcher!tubbo #it took me like a month but hey I updated

38 notes · View notes

kinghoranshit · 3 years ago

Text

Tell Me A Lie (NH) Ch 5

Word count: 1455

Warnings: kissing, softness

A yelp left me as I rolled off the couch, which was followed by a groan. I rubbed my forehead that had hit the leg of the coffee table and squinted at a curled up Niall.

We really fell asleep on the couch.

The TV held the “are you still watching” screen for who knows how long. I found the remote to turn the TV off, then I sighed as I looked at Niall. He was now stretching out, cracking his muscles, and yawned. As he sat up, he wiped his face before he looked up at me.

“Good rest,” he mumbled.

I laughed, it came out hoarse and I coughed in an attempt to clear my throat. “Yeah, definitely.”

He looked like he was about to ask if I was okay, but he stood instead. “Breakfast before or after we get ready?”

“That’s-”

“No, it’s not. You choose.” Niall shot me a look.

I vaguely rolled my eyes. “Uhm… How about after.”

He smiled. “Perfect.”

I grabbed my stuff before following him upstairs and he lowkey dropped me off. He tapped his hand on the trim as he awkwardly leaned against it. “Hey, what’re you planning to wear today?”

“Depends on the weather outlook I guess.” I shrugged. “Why?”

“I…” He coughed into his hand. “Thought we could match a little.”

I couldn’t help the laugh. “Adorable. Well, uhm, let me check the weather.” The screen lit up once I’d lifted it and unlocked it. The weather was supposed to be cooler today. I could get away with a sweatshirt look. I took out my vintage, navy golf sweatshirt, white tennis skirt, white crew socks, and tan sneakers.

“I think this is what I’m gonna wear.”

He smirked. “Okay, I think I’ve got something to match. See you in a bit.”

I nodded. “You too.”

Internally I cringed after he was gone. You too? What the fuck was that? I tried to not overthink it as I ran a shower and quickly cleaned up. I blow dried my hair before I pulled it up into a messy pony, then clipped my slight bangs back with two small pearl barrettes. I didn’t have the energy to try super hard on my makeup, so it was a simple concealer, light brown eyeshadow, and peachy tinted balm kind of day.

When I looked at the fit in the mirror, immediately all the negative thoughts ensued - the most present one being that I was frumpy. It was meant to be. I had to remind myself that, and even if it wasn’t, being frumpy isn’t a bad thing. Like most people, my style was inspired from photos on pinterest. I wouldn’t even pretend that my outfits were original if someone asked. But I did enjoy my clothes so that’s what mattered.

My mini backpack matched my sneakers, which were louder on the stairs than my barefoot feet. I cursed even though it was literally just Niall and I, and we were both awake. Whistling sounds from the kitchen and I swifted in to see Niall dancing in front of the stove.

I held back a laugh. “Breakfast and a show? I’m getting the five star experience around here.”

Niall wore one of his own golf crewnecks with white shorts and white Nikes. It was way more reminiscent of the days before they disbanded. Though his style hadn’t changed much since then. He looked… good.

He turned off the burner and shook his head. He plated scrambled eggs and avocado smeared on some sort of bread, then slid one of them to me. “Don’t worry, it’s dairy free.”

My heart fluttered. I nodded. “Thanks. Looks delicious.”

***

Niall and I walked down the main of Melrose, hand in hand. I tried to focus on Niall as we walked. Dirty looks seemed to project in my direction. Social media was easier to handle to be honest.

Despite how delicious breakfast was, my stomach rolled in itself with nausea. I found myself humming a small tune to distract myself.

“What’re you humming?”

I glanced at Niall, flushed, and stopped. “It’s nothing.”

“Let’s not play this game, Kelly. What is it?”

I sighed heavily. “It’s a… It’s a song from one of the story playlists.”

Niall brightened up. “What song?”

I cleared my throat. “Superhero by Lauv.”

“Oi! I love that song. It’s a bop.”

“Agreed… It’s not for the Stone Cold series. It’s an individual project.”

He opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, I’m not sure if it’s something I’ll share with the public. It was originally a shits and giggles purge Tumblr fic, but then I decided to rewrite it as an episodic screenplay.”

“I can’t say it’s something I’d enjoy, but I’m sure there are a lot who would.” His phone buzzed so he pulled it out to check. His hand squeezed around mind and he slowly came to a halt.

His eyes gazed into mine. He rested one hand on my cheek and the other on my hip. I tried not to look or feel confused; it wasn’t working. I was still unaware when the hired paps were going to be nearby, but they must be now. I attempted to put on a show smile, taking a step closer, and rested my hands on his torso as we leaned in for a kiss.

His soft lips so carefully touched mine. His hand snaked to the back of my neck and the following kiss was much more passionate. Then they were gone.

I was stunned. That seemed way more than a friendly kiss. I didn’t have much time to process as Niall entwined our hands again and pulled us toward a store as the paps “swarmed” us. When we were in a more secluded area of the Gucci store, I tugged him to a stop.

“What was that second kiss?”

“I don’t really know… It needed to be believable.”

I snorted. “Well, that felt pretty damn real.”

Both of us fell silent, and he tapped his fingers on the display table. “It… Wasn’t. It was just for show. Did you want anything in here?”

I raised my eyebrows. There was definitely a better answer than what he gave me, yet it was a can of worms that didn’t need to be opened. I cleared my throat. “I can’t afford it.”

He lightly smirked. “Melrose is full of luxury stores. It’s on me. We could get something matching?”

“Nialler, that would be crazy.”

“Crazy fun, you mean.” His eyes sparkled as he bit his bottom lip. “Come on, let loose!”

I overlooked him a few more seconds, just to antagonize him. Finally, I sighed. “Fine. But not from here. No one would believe you bought something from Gucci, even for me… What about Versace or Burberry? They’ve got dope trousers and accessories.”

He shot me his look with one eyebrow cocked. He didn’t say a word.

I rolled my eyes. “You know I’m on pinterest a lot.”

“That… sounds ideal.” He reached his hand out for me to take. “Let’s do it.”

***

When we returned to Niall’s mansion with bags of belts, shirts, and trousers that evening, we covered news articles and social media. All used the few photos taken, the star being the second kiss and it looked very much… believable. Modest! sent praising emails for how well this first outing was. It was an odd appraisal.

“Hey, what if we went to a couple bars tonight?” Niall suggested.

“Will there be any dancing involved?”

“Nnnn- yeeesss,” Niall answered by gauging the emotion on my face.

I laughed under my breath. “I love a good club if you’re down. We can always save it for tomorrow night. Saturday might be better anyway.”

“It’s LA, Kelly. Every night is a good night to drink and dance. That life never dies here.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” I admitted, narrowing my eyes at him.

He pecked my cheek. “I’m Irish, of course it’s good. Leave in an hour or so?”

I hesitated. “I… How about tomorrow night? Today was a lot to be honest.”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah! Whatever you want. Any ideas for dinner?”

A small smile spread on my lips. “Tacos?”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied. “I’ll get it set up.”

“Thanks.”

I snuck upstairs to the guest bedroom and flopped down onto the bed. My body sunk into the jersey soft comforter and I let out a tired breath. Lazily, I scrolled through all my notifications, replying to all the text messages from my friends and parents. They all bought that Niall and I were legit. Obviously that’s good, but also it leaves a terrible taste in my mouth.

Next: Ch 6

[Masterlist]

#Niall Horan #Niall Horan fic #Niall Horan fanfiction #fic #romance #drama #comedy #Tell Me a Lie #NH #Ch 5

2 notes · View notes

yoon-kooks · 5 years ago

Text

Witch Hazel- Pt.5

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

“So are you in, Jimin?”

“I’m in,” he chuckles at your little proposal. His laugh retains its charm, even through the phone. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little jealous of that charming quality of his. “But can I ask you something, Snow?”

“Go for it.”

“Why me?”

“To prove a point,” you say. “You also have something to prove, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t have shown up at my concert that night despite being well aware of how the public and media would react.”

“Right… Sorry about that, by the way.” You hear the sorrow still beating him up in his lowered voice. It makes sense that he feels the need to blame himself for all the backlash you received, but he shouldn’t have to feel guilty when all he wanted was a little freedom as a normal human being and not as the perfect idol the world makes him out to be.

“It’s fine, Jimin. We may be glorified idols at the top of the industry, but there are a lot of things we have no control over.”

“True… Sometimes it seems like the only way to escape the judgment of the public eye is to hide behind a mask, huh.” Jimin sighs. “But we can’t always live like that either.”

“Exactly.”

After hanging up, you toss your phone aside and pick up your guitar.

On your way to class, you’ve made a habit of checking jk.seagull’s blog for any updates on Witch Hazel, and you’re delighted when you find this new text post:

“it’s not done yet, but I’m planning on posting a new chapter this afternoon after class!”

To celebrate the occasion, you stop by your local coffee shop to pick up a special mocha with extra whipped cream. You’re already late for class after failing to hear your five alarms this morning anyway. And besides, maybe you deserve a little pick-me-up after all the writing you’d done the night before. For once, you feel pretty good about the direction you’re headed in.

Not even a scolding by your professor could ruin your mood.

“Oh, Y/N. How nice of you to join us,” your professor motions for you to take your seat as soon as you step foot into the art room. “I was just talking about how certain students have not been taking this class seriously as of late.”

She glances directly at you, along with your tablemates, Taehyung and Jungkook. “Sorry,” you mouth with a lack of sincerity, before taking a long sip of your mocha.

“And because of that,” the professor continues, “I’ve decided to move up the due date of our portrait project to tomorrow.”

A collective groan fills the room from the entire class, with the exception of those few lucky bastards who’ve already completed their project early. Once the class is dismissed, the scramble to actually get shit done begins. Even Taehyung opts to stick around as opposed to his usual obligations, and that speaks volumes.

As soon as your team relocates to one of the empty art studios nearby, however, it’s apparent that no one is really vibing with this project.

“So… what’s the assignment again?” Taehyung scratches his head. As much as you’d love to scold the boy for his lack of awareness of anything happening in art class, you haven’t been in the proper mindset to give the project any thought either.

“Something about drawing ourselves based on how others perceive us?” Jungkook yawns. “Or was it drawing each other’s portrait?”

“The first one, I think,” you say. “It doesn’t really make a difference when Jungkook’s gonna end up drawing Taehyung’s portion anyway.”

“True,” the boys say together. If there’s one thing you’ve learned from your art class shenanigans, it’s that the more you get to know someone, the easier it is to understand them and their actions—even if they’re completely different from you like Taehyung.

“If that’s the case, let’s hurry up and let each other know how we perceive one another. I have a doubleheader later on that I’d really hate to miss,” Taehyung nods in satisfaction at his clever wording for what you presume to be back-to-back one night stands. “I’ll start: Y/N, there’s not much I know about you besides the fact that you’re unfriendly, but I think that’s intentional. Like you’re hiding a dark secret or something. Jungkook, if you weren’t so shy, I’m sure you’d get laid more often.”

“Let’s not sugarcoat anything,” you roll your eyes. “I would say you, Taehyung, abuse your charm to get what you want. You use sleeping around as an excuse to avoid responsibility. And you embrace it because you fear that that’s the only thing people will ever acknowledge you for.”

“I’m not usually a masochist, but I kind of like it when you roast me like that, Y/N,” Taehyung shrugs it off, though you know you’ve hit the mark. Everyone has a poker face, and Kim Taehyung is no exception. To take the attention off of himself, he throws an arm around his favorite art buddy. “Roast this guy next.”

You glance over at Jungkook who’s in the midst of adding to your roast on Taehyung. It’s interesting to see how differently he acts with Taehyung, with you, and with everyone else. The more he knows someone, the less he withholds. If he knew you more, you wonder what he’d tell you. “I agree that if Jungkook weren’t so shy, there’d be more potential for a lot of things, but-”

Buzz! Taehyung looks down at his phone. “Well, that’s my cue. Jungkook, Y/N, you know what to do~”

“Have fun at your doubleheader,” you wave off your incompetent teammate until he’s out of sight. “Should we be enabling him like this?”

“Probably not. But even I can’t say no to that charm of his.” Jungkook sighs as he pulls out a blank sheet of bristol paper. In what feels like an instant, several dots and lines transform into a general outline of Taehyung’s face. “I’m surprised you haven’t fallen for his charm yet… unless…?”

“Look, I get the appeal of a smoothtalker who walks with confidence, but Taehyung really isn’t my type,” you laugh.

“Still, I’m a little envious of him.” Jungkook draws Taehyung a nice and natural wink. “Because he isn’t afraid to chase after what he wants.”

You want to tell the boy that he should chase after whatever it is he wants, but you know that’s easier said than done. After all, you know exactly how it feels to take that leap of faith, only to fall short before reaching the dream you so desired. So all you can do is nod and start working on your own portrait.

For about five whole minutes, you try to sketch out a decent upside-down egg shape for your head, but it always comes out a little lopsided or rough around the edges. Once you’ve got a little mountain of eraser shaving piling up, you decide it’s time to sneak a peek at Jungkook’s sketch to get an idea of how a well-seasoned artist draws a proper face.

What you see instead, however, is the boy staring back at your mountain of eraser shavings. You swear you hear a little pft come out of his mouth. The nerve.

“Hold your pencil like this,” he says, holding his own pencil with his pinky sticking out.

You replicate his grip, wiggling the pinky. “Is this some sort of weird pinky promise that artists do?”

Before Jungkook can even respond, your pinky is already linked to his. Funny how his finger curled around yours as if it were the most normal thing to do, but his burning cheeks say otherwise. You might’ve jumped the gun on this one.

After blinking at the empty pinky promise for a good three seconds, the boy finally lets go. “Use that pinky to steady your hand as you sketch.”

“Oh… right…” You feel a wildfire spreading across your own cheeks. Your dumbass somehow misinterpreted a drawing technique for something as childish as a pinky promise! Whether it’s because you’re flustered or just shitty at art, you fumble around to get your pencil on the paper. “…How do I do it again?”

Rather than trying to explain or demonstrate it to you, Jungkook motions for you to come closer. So you do. He takes your hand and individually sets each finger onto your pencil like a guitar teacher helping their student find the right chord position.

You’re pleasantly surprised by how gentle his touch is. Rather than forcing your fingers to conform to the conventional ways of an artist, he gives them the little push they need to find their own place along the length of the pencil—wherever is most comfortable for you.

Once you’ve got a good grip, Jungkook guides your pencil back to the canvas with your pinky just barely touching the drawing surface. “Now try drawing the outline of your face again.”

You do as you’re told and see immediate results. Although it’s not a perfect egg, your lines are noticeably smoother as if your skin had just been cleared. Jungkook gives you and your improved egg a thumbs-up, which you return with a thumbs-up of your own.

As you both resume your portraits, you can’t help but wonder if it was the tiny adjustment of how you held your pencil that made the difference. Or if it was Jeon Jungkook himself. You suppose only time will tell.

Several hours later, Jungkook has finished Taehyung’s portrait, you still need to color yours in, and an announcement goes off through the intercom.

“Due to the art auction charity event tonight, this building will be closing in ten minutes. Thank you.”

You groan. This is the worst case scenario for your damn group project. Because if you’re kicked out of the studio, you won’t have access to all of the necessary art supplies.

Unless…?

You exchange glances with the most devoted artist you know.

Jungkook’s apartment is not exactly how you imagined a weeby Snow stan’s habitat to look. There’s not a trace of Snow, nor is there a hint of magic anime girls floating around. But the one thing you did correctly predict is the amount of art scattered across the boy’s room.

Everywhere you look, you’re blown away by something different from the last. A painted city landscape detailed enough to be mistaken for an actual photo, a busy abstract pattern that makes the little wheels in your head spin, the familiar animation booklet of the flower in the snow, and an interesting little doodle that doesn't seem to scream “college art project”.

You try to make sense of what appears to be the chaos that ensues when the worlds of mathematics and music collide. Half of the basic times tables chart is replaced with values represented by music notes. The math nerd in you laughs when you see that a sixteenth note is correctly placed where two quarter notes align. Similarly, the music sheet on the other side of the doodle has a time signature of “75%” aka ¾ time aka the rhythm of a waltz.

“How old were you when you drew this one?” You point to the artwork titled Math Musician written in tiny font at the bottom corner next to the boy’s initials.

Jungkook chuckles, probably out of embarrassment. “I think I was ten.”

“Imagine being a talented artist at age ten. Can’t relate,” you clown yourself as you pull out your unfinished portrait from your art bag. In addition to looking “unfriendly”, your drawn face is rather lifeless and more so demonic for some reason. Hopefully some color will bring more dimension and life back into your flesh.

Just then, you realize you’ve made a fatal mistake.

“Umm, Jungkook?” you continue to stare down at your mistake. “I forgot to factor in your opinion of me into my portrait and now I just look unfriendly like Taehyung said.”

Jungkook tilts his head to get a better look at your monstrosity. His reaction could go one of three ways: he could laugh and give you a hard time about it, he could help you find a solution, or he could do both.

“You definitely nailed the ‘unfriendly’ part,” he snickers. “The RBF is strong with this one.”

“So you agree that I’m unfriendly?” On one hand, that would be good because you won’t have to revise your portrait if Jungkook shares the same opinion as Taehyung. On the other hand, you don’t want Jungkook to have that opinion of you.

“Not necessarily,” he says. “I think if people looked beyond your unfriendly demeanor, they’d find someone very different.”

Before you can ask the boy to elaborate, he has already left and come back with the solution to your problem: fancy coloring markers.

“Since you already drew your appearance based on Taehyung’s opinion, you can color it in based on my opinion, if that makes it easier.” Jungkook hands you an assortment of markers, though a large portion of them are just different shades of one color in particular. Yellow.

Yellow was the last color you were expecting. You expected cooler and darker tones like blues or greys to match your ice queen personality. But yellow? Yellow, to you, has always meant bright and happy.

“Yellow is a happy color, isn’t it?” You start swatching each shade of yellow to see how they translate onto a white canvas. Your favorite shade out of the bunch is the soft pale one called Banana Milk, but that still doesn’t mean it suits you. To prove your point, you hold up your unfriendly demon portrait to your actual face and pout. “Do either of these faces look happy to you, Jungkook?”

“No, but they do look silly.” The boy cracks a smile at your humor. “In a good way.” The way he smiles so brightly plants a dangerous little seed in your head. Maybe the yellow is meant to represent not how he perceives your feelings, but rather, how he perceives his own feelings for you.

By the time evening comes, you’ve shaded in every inch of your canvas, completing your portion of the portrait project. You were right—the bright colors really did help bring life back into your face, and there’s less of a demonic aura about it now.

It also looks like one big contradiction: an unfriendly-looking face with a cheerful brightness around it. But that’s probably what Jungkook was referring to when he said you were very different beneath your unfriendly mask.

As you stretch out your arms and yawn, you peek over at the boy’s progress with his portrait. He stares down at his markers scattered across the floor, pushing his long locks out of his eyes, in search of his next color. From the small portion that he has colored so far, you notice a big difference between his portrait and yours. While your color scheme is bright and flashy like a star, Jungkook’s is soft and subtle to mimic his shy and lowkey personality.

“Use this,” you toss him the Banana Milk marker and pull a scrunchie off your wrist, “and this too.”

Jungkook places the pale yellow marker down right on the area he’ll color next. He doesn’t, however, know what to do with the foreign hair accessory in his palm. He just blinks at it.

With a dramatic sigh, you join the boy on the floor and take back the scrunchie. Like a puppy with long bangs poking its eyes, he lets you comb your fingers through his hair before tying a tiny sprout on top of his head.

“So this is what the world looks like,” he nods, as if his long hair had greatly hindered his view of the world in front of him. At the same time, he spots the finished product of your portrait. “Your self-portrait is a lot different from how I would draw you.”

“I would’ve appreciated a compliment for my hard work, but go ahead and insult me, Jeon.” You square up.

“Oh sorry. You did a phenomenal job, Y/N.” He doesn’t even try to put effort into masking his sarcasm as pity praise. But that’s expected in how he hasn’t missed a single opportunity to tease you and your shitty art. “It’s just interesting how differently others interpret us from how we interpret ourselves.”

Now you’re curious. “How would you draw me then?”

“You want to see?” Jungkook pushes his own portrait aside and starts digging around for a sketchbook with a blank page to spare. What possesses him to prioritize a drawing of you before his own portrait that’s due in less than 24 hours? You won’t allow that.

“I want to see it after our project is finished, please,” you pull his unfinished portrait back in front of him before making yourself comfy on the boy’s bed. “In the meantime, I’ll be reading you-know-what.”

“Smut?” The boy has a dirty mind, it seems.

“Unless Witch Hazel plans on getting a little smutty, no, I will not be reading smut.” With a hmph, you scroll through jk.seagull’s blog. “I wonder if the new chapter is posted yet.”

Jungkook, too, picks up his phone with wide eyes when he hears you say “new chapter”. Your hype and excitement around the fanfic must be rubbing off on him.

But unfortunately for you, there is no new post since the one you saw before class. You make a sad booboo face, but it isn’t the end of the world either. You’ll just have to reread the series from the beginning as you wait for either Witch Hazel to be updated or Jungkook to finish the project. Whichever happens first.

“Wait, I think the seagull guy just posted something.”

You’ve never jumped onto your phone so quick when Jungkook mentions the seagull guy. It isn’t a new chapter of Witch Hazel, but instead another small text post.

“sorry for not updating witch hazel today like i said i would!! i was bombarded with an unexpected art assignment;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;”

Your sad booboo face disappears. It seems you’re not the only one struggling to find balance between the arts and the need to satisfy others. “Isn’t it funny that he’s an art student too?”

“Haha, yeah…” Jungkook’s voice fades as he returns to his portrait.

“Maybe that’s why I like his work so much,” you say, clicking back to the very first chapter of Witch Hazel where Snow is helping out those who she had unintentionally scared away with her witchcraft. “He just gets it.”

“He gets what?”

With the biggest yawn, you shrug because you don’t really know how to put it into words. It just feels as though you and him think alike. And the thought of that is comforting enough to put you to rest until Jungkook finishes up the project.

“Y/N.” You hear things shuffling around in your half-asleep state. When you rise from mysterious pile of blankets on top of you, you see Jungkook putting his art supplies away and clearing space on the floor for him to camp out since you’ve apparently claimed his bed.

“Did you finish?” You check the time in the dimly lit room, and you’re shocked to see it’s past midnight.

“Yeah.” He pulls your scrunchie out of his hair and drops it into your palm. “Thank you for your service.”

“Keep it.” You slide the hair tie onto the boy’s wrist when you notice he looks a little different somehow. The hoodie he was wearing earlier is replaced with a plain white tee, and his torn jeans have become grey sweatpants. The unspoken reality of you stay over at the boy’s apartment is slowly becoming realized. “In exchange, I’d like to see how you’d draw me.”

“Already done,” he says, jogging to his desk and back to you with a page from his sketchbook in hand. “I drew you as a superhero.”

“What kind of superhero?” You kick the blankets off of you and reach for the drawing, but of fucking course, Jungkook pulls it back real quick just when you were about to snatch it. “Let me see!”

He keeps it hidden behind his back for a while until he gets a little too cocky and dangles it above where you’re sitting on the bed. It would be too predictable for you to reach for the hand with drawing in it, so you decide to aim for the other arm to trap him in.

But rather than latching onto his arm, you catch only a piece of the scrunchie around his wrist, causing you both to lose balance. Your back hits the soft bedding as you stare up into the eyes of the boy who just so happened to land on top of you. Aha, you finally figure out why he looked a little different after you woke up. No glasses, just his handsome brown eyes.

You’d give yourself a pat on the back for figuring that out if you weren’t distracted by the drawing of you as a “superhero”. You were expecting something tough like the Avengers or Sailor Moon or even Izuku Midoriya. But instead you see someone who looks very much like yourself with a guitar and yellow flower crown.

“That’s not a superhero,” you say quietly.

“There are people who would feel otherwise.” Jungkook plops down next to you on his stomach.

“Like who?”

“Like people you share your music with.”

You bite your lip before rolling off the bed to run and get something. When you hop back onto the bed, you drop a pencil into Jungkook’s hand make him hold it with his pinky out like he had shown you earlier. You do the same with another pencil and link your pinky to his once more.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #btsboulangerie #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook #bts #bangtan #witch hazel

238 notes · View notes

sincerelyreidburke · 4 years ago

Note

Hey again! So like, you are under no obligation, and I send you too many asks anyway but... if you're down for writing Spencer's reaction to A FROSH GETTING EVAN THE AUDACITY I would be so pleased :) lol

First of all: you don’t send me too many asks. I believe the phrase you’re looking for is “I enable you to write fun things often”. Which is highly encouraged, in this establishment.

Second: yes. And for those who aren’t Via, let me enlighten you. Spencer is a Kiersey College drama club OC, part of the group of characters I created to enhance Quinn’s college drama club experience (and to have more fun on “Quinn Theatre Hours” Monday nights). You can read a comprehensive introduction to the drama club cast in this fic, which tells the story of the week leading up to Quinn’s casting in Dear Evan Hansen his freshman year.

Spencer is... hm, how shall we say. A giant asshole. He’s a junior theatre kid who fully expects that the role of Evan will land neatly in his lap. This ficlet depicts as much. It takes place pretty much simultaneously with the casting fic I linked to above.

This is also a precursor of sorts to a longer drama club fic, which I’m working on, that Via has also asked after. Stay tuned for that, because there is where you’ll see some serious, well... drama.

Until then: Spencer can choke. I’m entertained by the fact that I’m now being asked to write things from the point of view of the bully. Here’s what you asked for!

Today is going to be an amazing day.

And here’s why. Spencer has been waiting— all week, certainly, but also for months, even since the school year began, to see something he finally gets to see today. During all three of his years at Kiersey, the spring musical has been something to look forward to, but especially this year, with so much riding on it. Today, the cast list goes up for the biggest show of his life. Today, he confirms his place in a role he’s been dreaming of playing for months. Today, he starts to lead this year’s cast.

He knows that the show was chosen for him. Dr. C is notorious for it— she’s not shy about choosing shows based on who she has available for casting. It’s resourceful, Spencer has told her time and again; after all, you have to work with what you have. It’s like how she chose Book of Mormon last year for him— well, and for Reid, he guesses, but mostly for him. And how the director at his and Kelsie’s high school chose Thoroughly Modern Millie for the two of them their senior year.

He planted the seed for Dear Evan Hansen in Dr. C’s head last spring, an offhanded mention in a conversation, right around the time Book of Mormon was closing. He forwarded her a few articles over the summer, just to jog her interest, and he and Kelsie even went to New York to see the show in June, so he typed up a review and sent it her way. When he arrived on campus this past fall, he was thrilled to hear she’d taken his advice. It would be their spring 2018 show.

His audition went just as expected, and he read for Evan during his callback. So this morning, when he rolls out of bed at five-thirty sharp, it’s the first thing on his mind, without a doubt in it. Today is the day he starts being Evan Hansen.

He deserves this.

To start his great day, he grabs a morning workout, like always. In the gym, he sees one of the freshmen who auditioned, using an elliptical and wearing pink leggings. She has curly, golden blond hair piled into a high ponytail, full lips, and tan skin. Her name is… Maddie? Mallory? He isn’t sure, but what does it matter anyway. She was in callbacks with him last night, and she wasn’t projecting well.

So he doesn’t say hello, and doesn’t even think she’ll notice him until he passes her as he’s leaving. She’s refilling a water bottle with stickers all over it, and she waves. “Hey, Spencer.”

“Oh!” He pretends to be surprised. “Hi, Maddie.”

“Uh.” She chuckles a little, and shakes her head. “It’s— Maggie, actually.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.” He stops in front of her, and bends down— she’s a little short— to deliver a word for the wise. “Hey, by the way… don’t take it too hard if you aren’t cast in a bigger role today.” She arches an eyebrow, and he continues, because she ought to know. “There just aren’t a lot of roles that would fit… you, y’know?”

It doesn’t look like Maggie understands what he means, but she shrugs and folds her arms, all standoffish. “Well, good luck to you, too.”

“Thank you!” He flashes a smile. “It’s always great to see beginners joining the musical.”

Maggie purses her lips and scowls as he turns to go. Huh. What a bitch. He was only telling her what she needed to hear.

Well, it’s her loss. Freshmen rarely ever get speaking roles. And it’s not like Zoe is going to anybody besides Kelsie.

He texts his girlfriend on the way out of the gym. Kelsie is an early riser, too, but she doesn’t work out in the morning like he does. By now, in her morning routine, she’ll be through with her shower and doing her hair.

They meet for breakfast every morning, but this morning, it’ll be a quick affair. The cast list goes up at 9:00 sharp in the Beckett Performing Arts Center lobby, and they have every intention to be the first ones there.

So Spencer showers and gets dressed, donning a blue shirt for the occasion. He meets up with Kelsie in the lobby of their dorm, and they walk to the dining hall hand-in-hand, leaving right around 8:00. It’s sunny out today, but still freezing cold.

“So,” she asks him, as they stroll down the sidewalk. “Any bold predictions?” She pauses to grin and bump against his hip, as she adds, “Besides the obvious.”

Spencer beams. He loves their relationship for so many reasons, but especially because they support each other so well. “Well,” he begins, pulling his stocking cap down on his head. “I think Reid is a dead ringer for Jared.” Which will be easy, because although Reid is unfunny at best, Spencer is used to working with him; he got well accustomed to it on Book of Mormon.

“Oh, absolutely.” Kelsie nods. “And I think… Claire, as Heidi? I can’t be sure, but—” She pauses for an exaggerated eyeroll, which is absolutely warranted, because Claire is such a goody two-shoes it’s insufferable. “I know Dr. C likes giving her principal roles.”

“Which I, for one, do not understand,” he quips.

“Tell me about it.” Kelsie sighs, then shakes her head. “But I could see Claire going that way.”

“I could, as well.” He pauses, racks his brain of the names on the audition list. He checked it religiously, to see who was trying to get involved, even after he had secured his spot as first on the list. “And… hm… alright, I’m not saying I’d like to see Danny Cho as Larry, but given they didn’t run his part in callbacks at all last night…”

“Mm,” Kelsie hums. “I think you’re right. That’s a shame. His singing is suspect at best.”

“And his acting…” He sighs. “I hope he can pull it off.”

“Maybe he can.” Kelsie swings his hand a little, and they sidestep for a rushing student who must be late to their eight-AM class. When they regain sidewalk space, she looks to him, smoothing her bangs, and asks, “And Connor?...”

“Hm.” Spencer’s mind lands on someone, but it’s an underwhelming thought. “Cole?”

“Oh.” Kelsie pauses, like she forgot he existed. Which is easy to do, because Cole, the sophomore he’s thinking of, is quiet and irrelevant. Spencer was surprised to see him audition; he played guitar in the pit for Book of Mormon, and from there he always assumed he was a fly-under-the-radar type. But he read all of Connor’s parts in callbacks. “Well, he has the look.”

“It’s a typecast,” he agrees. “He seems… sketchy?”

“Right? Kind of a weirdo,” Kelsie says. She raises an eyebrow at him, and asks, “Do you think you could work with him?”

“Well, it isn’t like I’ll have much of a choice,” he remarks. “But who knows? Maybe someone else will get Connor.”

“Maybe.” Kelsie pauses, then smiles and says, “You can do it.”

He kisses her cheek, as they walk along. “Thank you.”

From there, they move onto a rehearsal schedule tangent. It’s not until they’re almost at the dining hall that casting gets brought up again. “What about that kid?” Kelsie asks, suddenly, almost laughing. “The really short one, the freshman? Could he beat out Cole or Danny?”

“Oh…” Spencer thinks he knows who she means. “Scarf kid?” When she nods, he laughs out loud. “I highly doubt he’ll be seeing the cast list. I mean, Kels, he’s a freshman.”

“That’s true.” She shrugs. “You did get Anthony freshman year, though…”

He straightens a little as he walks, because it still makes him proud to think about Sweeney Todd freshman year. “I reserve myself as a small exception to the rule.”

Kelsie grins. “You’re gonna be great, babe,” she says, and even though he knows he will be, it still feels nice to hear it.

Breakfast is very nice. He has scrambled eggs and sausage patties from the grill, and she has a fruit salad with unsweetened tea, in accordance with her New Year’s weight-loss diet. They have a breakfast table in the corner, by tradition, and they even see Reid when they’re in there. He’s eating with his girlfriend, and flashes jazz hands at the both of them, with a grin. “Happy casting day!”

Spencer wonders, just slightly, if Reid has seen the cast list yet. He may be a student, but he’s drama club president all the same, and maybe he has pre-existing knowledge. But on second thought, Spencer doesn’t think Dr. C would do that. She doesn’t even give him advance knowledge of casting, and he would venture to call himself her favorite student.

So he just waves to Reid, because he and Kelsie are on their way out. “Morning, Reid.” There’s something like a shit-eating grin on Reid’s face, so he can’t resist asking. “Have you seen the list yet?”

“Oh, yeah, dude!” Reid kicks back in his chair. “Didn’t you hear the good news? I’m Evan!”

Spencer’s soul leaves his body. “You— I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m so excited.” Reid smooths out his hair before he dusts off his graphic tee. “Tell me— do you think I’ll look good in striped blue?”

This is not real life. “You can’t be serious.”

“No, tell him, Bri!” Still grinning, Reid looks to his girlfriend, this chubby art student who always has ceramic work on display in the admissions lobby. “Weren’t we just discussing how lovely my angelic voice will sound on Words Fail?”

Bri nods, with her chin in her hands. “Oh, for sure.”

Reid throws his hands up, all smiles. “See?”

Kelsie steps forward, like she’s about to say something. And just as Spencer’s heart is set to beat out of his chest, Reid doubles over and bursts out laughing. “Jesus, Spencer,” he says, smacking the table. “I’m just fucking with you, dude. Could you not tell I was joking?”

“Well, he’s a little on edge,” Kelsie cuts in. “We both are.”

Reid shrugs, putting his hands behind his head like his dining hall chair is actually a lounge chair on the beach. “Well,” he remarks. “I have seen the list, but it’s not up for another…” He glances at the big clock on the wall in the dining room. “Fourteen minutes, so you won’t hear any leaks from me.”

“Wait, really?” he asks. “Have you actually seen it.”

Reid shrugs, making a face like he’s just been instructed to ‘do a silly one’ in a family portrait.

Spencer hates Reid Burke. He’s never really been sure about this fact until today. It’s partly the fact that Reid is still kind of grinning, like this is some big joke— Reid treats everything like a big joke— and partly the fact that he knows, even if he resorted to groveling (which he will not), that he truly won’t get any leaks out of him. Even with fifteen minutes left until he’ll see it himself, it’s tantalizing to know that Reid is sitting right here with full knowledge of the cast, and won’t say a word.

And by the way, what the hell, Dr. C? Since when does she leak the cast list to students?

But standing here being mad at Reid isn’t going to make the list go up faster, so he rolls his eyes, as Reid zips his lips, and says, “Well, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Kelsie adds, like she is less than enthused that she wasted three minutes of her life on this useless conversation. Which is exactly how Spencer feels.

“Idiot,” he mutters, as they walk away, and doesn’t even care if he’s in earshot. “He almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Spence,” Kelsie says, taking his hand to squeeze it. “You know you have nothing to worry about.”

“I know,” he replies, because she’s right, “but what’s up with Dr. C letting Reid see the list early? How does that work? I practically picked the show—”

“It’s bullshit,” she replies, as they bust their breakfast trays. “You should say something to her, later.”

“I think I will,” he says. He’s already planning what he’ll say, as they leave the dining hall and head at a brisk pace in the direction of Beckett. It’s a quick walk, fueled by both of their adrenaline, and when they reach the double doors, Spencer takes one last breath of crisp winter air before walking inside.

Dr. C is in the lobby, crossing from the direction of Beck 1C, where the board is, back toward her office. She’s in a multicolored knit sweater, and she holds her head high, a surefire sign she just did something important. “Good morning, Dr. C,” he says, with a chipper wave. “Is the list up? We wanted to be the first ones to see it.”

“Yes.” Dr. C nods, adjusting her glasses as she stops a moment to talk to them. “It was definitely difficult to cast, and… some people may not be happy, but it’s the best fitting for the programme, as we say.”

Her wording is cryptic, but it always is. Two and a half years in her inner circle, and he knows her well. “Ah, I’m sure you picked the right people,” he says, with a wink.

Dr. C looks between him and Kelsie, then nods. “I’m confident I did,” she says, and it gives him an extra thrill of excitement. A quick glance to Kelsie and she’s smiling like she won the lottery. “Have a nice morning, you two!” Dr. C says, as she starts for her office again.

Kelsie blows her a kiss, and Spencer waves. When they meet eyes again, he takes her hand, and looks to the corner where the bulletin board is.

“Ready?” she asks him.

It’s time.

“Never more ready,” he replies, and together, they walk to the board with its promised sheet of paper.

The anticipation is adrenaline enough. Spencer knows what he’ll find on the list, but is still eager to get to it, to see his name at the top. They round the corner, and there’s the list, fresh white against the board’s maroon paper base. It’s only a few more steps.

When they get there, Kelsie sees it first. She leans forward, then recoils, like she’s been burned. “What?!” she cries, loud enough to be heard inside the actual auditorium.

“Kels? What’s wrong?” He wonders if Claire beat her out for Zoe. He consults the list to investigate, and— and— oh.

Right around then is when the world stops turning.

“Quinn Cooper?” Kelsie is staring at the list, her arms crossed over her chest, a permanent scowl etched on her perfect face. “The scarf freshman? Are they kidding?”

Spencer feels frozen. He stares at the list in disbelief, reads it up and down again and again. He feels like he’s been standing here for twenty minutes, but it’s probably only been two or three.

DEAR EVAN HANSEN

Cast & Crew List

Evan Hansen: Quinn Cooper

Connor Murphy: Cole Kolinsky

Zoe Murphy: Claire Deshaies

Heidi Hansen: Allison Halterman

Larry Murphy: Daniel Cho

Jared Kleinman: Reid Burke

Cynthia Murphy: Kelsie Wilkes

Alana Beck: Maggie Atkins

U/S Evan: Spencer Bergen

It’s fake. One of Reid’s practical jokes. They’re all out to play a big junior-year prank on him. Everyone is in on it. Including the scarf freshman.

There’s. No. Way.

“This is—” Kelsie sputters, then shakes her head. “I can’t believe this.”

“I won’t believe this,” he says, speaking for the first time since he saw the list. “There has to be some kind of mistake.”

“Um, I would sure hope so,” she says, popping the p in ‘hope’. “This is— this is a joke.”

Quinn Cooper. The freshman the size of a hobbit. Who wears scarves to every drama club meeting. Who’s barely been at Kiersey for half a year. Who just stole the role of his dreams right out from under him.

Spencer absolutely cannot believe this. “I have to talk to Dr. C,” he says, and it’s more an out-loud realization than anything, but he turns on his heel and marches straight for her office as soon as the words are out. “Like. Right now.”

But talking to Dr. C is a useless affair. “I work with what I’m given, Spencer,” she says, sitting behind her desk like some kind of supervillain, more closed-off to him than he’s ever seen her. “The cast may not look exactly how you imagined it, but some of the newer students showed real promise this year.”

“But Dr. C—” He paces in front of her desk. “I suggested the show. I practiced all summer. I thought for sure—”

“Spencer, I chose the show on my own accord,” she says, evenly. “It’s true I take input from students, but that has no bearing on my casting decisions.”

He throws his hands in the air. “But you have to see how this is unfair to me—”

“I think,” she cuts in, in this icy tone that’s usually reserved for people who fuck up majorly, and never for him, not in his entire time at Kiersey, “that once you see how the cast falls together, you’ll respect the casting decisions I made as your director.”

He sputters and rants, but he doesn’t dare disrespect her, no matter how much she’s betrayed him.

And so it goes. He’s lost out on his role, in his spring musical, to some no-name freshman who probably can’t even belt.

And just in case there needed to be a cherry on top, he’s his understudy. Of all things. How humiliating.

Spencer’s life is over.

It’s not until much later that day, when he’s sulking in Kelsie’s dorm room, mourning his lost musical season, that the idea for a solution crosses his mind.

It’s sort of her idea, but sort of his. She, at least, brings it up. “Spence,” she says, nudging his arm. He’s been scrolling mindlessly through Twitter for who knows how long, while she flips through her newly acquired script. “Y’know… you’re his understudy.”

“Well, jeez, Kels, I hadn’t noticed,” he snaps, dropping his phone onto the bed. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“That wasn’t my point,” she replies, scowling. “What I meant was… you’re his understudy.”

He knows she isn’t stupid enough to say the same thing twice over, so he tries to read her meaning. She’s gesturing, like she wants him to get it, and on top of the day he’s had, he doesn’t appreciate being made to feel like an idiot. He’s about to tell her as much when something dawns on him.

Something in the form of very, very useful knowledge. “And that means…” he says. “I perform if he can’t.”

A wise smile crosses Kelsie’s face. “Exactly.”

“So all we have to do is…” He nods. It’s taking shape in his head now. His spring musical season may not be completely lost.

Kelsie’s fingernails dance over his knee. “You’re getting it.”

“Figure out a way to inhibit his ability to perform,” he finishes. He loves her so much. “Kels. You’re right.”

“I’m right?” Her smile goes innocent. “What are you talking about, babe? That was all your idea.”

For the first time since before the saw the list, he smiles, too. He wonders if he looks as conniving as he feels. “I might be able to figure this out,” he says.

“That you might,” she replies, with a nod. “All we have to do is figure out what that looks like.”

To save his musical, Spencer is very much willing to figure that out.

#ficlet #quinn theatre hours #mini quinny #by extension #fuck spencer's rights!#kiersey drama club #drama club drama #the insanely cool reid burke #kiersey college #mel writes

22 notes · View notes