#Whats up with old people and bad chocolate for every fucking meal ever
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"can you see if we have anything good to eat? like a candy bar."
nana be so fucking for real rn
#Good and Hershey bar with almonds do not belong in the same category for so many reasons#Whats up with old people and bad chocolate for every fucking meal ever#Like she refuses to eat anything we cook and calls it bad for you and then proceeds to only eat take out and the most expensive seafood ite#On whatever menu we order from#Can we please have a brain about what's good and what's bad
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Invisible String (15/15)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)
Word Count: 3.2k words
Warning : fluff, smut, Steve being nice for once, mention of assault, healthy communication, drinking, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca, talk about therapy, fucking on a dressing table, I added the link for the dressing table so it could be easier to imagine lol
Both of you were far from okay, Bucky knew that. You needed time and energy to put in this relationship, and Bucky would patiently wait and giddily put in the work required.
Just like last time all those months ago, Bucky prepared a plate of fruits with juice for you. If you'd let him in your life, then one thing was sure — you were never having that damn coffee for breakfast. How did you even survive? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Bucky was baffled when he found out you functioned on nothing but caffeine.
“Good Morning!” he greeted, you were awake and seated on the couch. “I got you breakfast that isn't caffeine.”
You didn't meet his eyes, but smiled timidly nevertheless. You cringed at your immaturity. Getting drunk instead of having a proper conversation like adults was not your wisest decision. Your last conversation was horrid. What was worse was that he was still being so nice to you when all you wanted was for the ground to open and swallow you whole. It was embarrassing.
You avoided his gaze, and Bucky didn't press the matter any further.
You exhaled loudly and requested, “We need to talk.”
Here it was, Bucky thought. He hoped you both could at least have breakfast blissfully, ignoring the elephant in the room. But he assumed the sooner, the better. Bucky took a seat beside you on the office couch.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
Both of you apologized at the same time. Bucky continued, “What I did was a fucked up thing to do. I had no right to decide for you. I'm sorry for hurting you.”
“I’m sorry for handling the situation immaturely. It was dumb to get drunk and act like that.”
Bucky nodded, he didn't need your apology. He was the one who was at fault here. Although, he would never acknowledge this, but he was glad you got drunk and came to him. He wasn’t smart enough to realize his mistake and if he continued with his stubbornness, then he would have lost you.
Instinctively, he took your palm in his, lacing your fingers with his and placing the entwined hands on his lap. “I — The incident with Rumlow and the kidnapping affected me a lot. More than I would like to admit,” you acknowledged, “And I don't think I’m dealing with everything healthily.”
“What do you need me to do?”
You sighed and propped your head on his shoulder. “Just be there for me.”
Bucky raised your intertwined hands, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, “Always.”
“I don't want our bakery to be just a dream,” he sounded so unsure that you raised your head to look at him. “I want to get out of this life — of the club.”
“Can you even do that?” You weren’t very knowledgeable about his business, but from what you've gathered getting out wasn't an option.
“I talked with Sam and Steve, and it would take a while, but it's not impossible. I’d have to put in a lot of money, and it will take time, maybe even years, but it can be done.”
For the millionth time, Bucky left you speechless. You didn't want him to change his entire life because of you. You loved Bucky and you would take him just the way he was. With his good and bad, albeit there wasn't anything bad. “Do you want that?”
He looked at you in offense. To him, you sounded insane. Of course, he wanted that. All he ever wanted was a serene life, and now he could have that life with you in it, you were double guessing your worth. Maybe he didn't think this through, but there was no need to question his choice. Bucky was sure of one thing in his life. “I want you. I want you in my life and I want my ma and Bec. And I can't have the most important people in my life if I don’t leave this behind. So yes, this is what I want.”
You smiled at him, and he would kill to make that smile a permanent residence on your face, you didn’t want him to make this crucial decision in his life because of you.
“Plus, maybe some chocolate essence would finally break you out of your writer's block,” Bucky teased, quoting the words you said to him all those days ago and you giggled.
The rest of the morning was spent in comfortable silence as you both ate breakfast.
Bucky wanted to tell his friends about his decision, and he wanted you there beside him. You were terrified, you finally made friends with someone, and now they were going to hate you because you were taking their friend away from him. And Steve already hated you, that wasn't the impression you were planning on forming on his best friend.
To your dismay, everyone looked pleased with the verdict. Turns out, all of them hated hiding their families too. You should have known — worrying every second about your loved ones could make one very restless.
It was finally decided that the club would just be that — a club. No more side businesses or illegal deals or enemies like Rumlow — it would just be a normal club. The club would go to Sam and Steve, and Wanda would take Clint’s place as the manager. It was also collectively decided that Peter had to go. He was just a kid who wanted to make money for his college tuition. Which now would be paid fully by Bucky. Peter could still work at the club as a part-time job, but he had to go to college too.
It was satisfying to see all of them so content with this decision. You expected at least Steve to interject, but he looked pleased too. What you did not expect was for Steve to approach you and start a conversation with you. You were just standing on the balcony while everyone was celebrating. You told Bucky you needed some air when he asked you what was wrong.
“He really likes you, you know.”
“I hope so,” you joked, and you saw a smile forming on Steve's lips. Progress, you thought to yourself.
“I haven't been the nicest person to you and I’m sorry for that.”
You looked at Steve in disbelief. Okay, you weren't expecting that. “I don’t know why you hate me. I mean, we barely know each other,” you replied, honestly.
Steve inhaled sharply as he said, “I knew Buck since we were kids. He never hid anything from me until a few months ago.”
What has that to do with you? You looked at him puzzled and he continued, “He attacked Rumlow. Around 3 months ago, he attacked him and we never attack first — always retaliate. That's why Rumlow came after you because Bucky started the fight. I knew it had something to do with you, but he just wouldn't tell me.”
And just like that, you knew exactly what he was talking about. The timing matched with Rumlow’s attempt to inappropriately touch you without consent.
“I — Rumlow came here during my shift,” you stammered, you didn't know how to tell him. You wanted to heal, you wanted people to know on your accord with your permission. And you wanted Steve to know. “I told him no - several times, but he just wouldn’t stop touching.”
You wanted to be able to talk about this without breaking down every time. And that was a good enough start, you knew Bucky would be proud of you.
Steve's expression morphed into one of guilt immediately. He was smart enough to join the dots, and he felt like an idiot for blaming you and Bucky. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don't be,” you smiled at him, “You didn't know.”
Steve didn’t know how to react. He felt like a dick — he was a dick for not even considering your point of view. Bucky kept saying that he couldn't tell and Steve should have understood or taken the hint, but he was so mad at you that it blinded his judgement.
The conversation turned uneasy, so you quickly changed the topic and retorted to a joke. “Did you know that Bucky owns a customized t-shirt that says ‘I heart Y/N’?”
Steve chortled a laugh and said, “Now that I do, I’m never gonna stop teasing him about it.”
“It was cute, okay?” you defended.
“Sure it was,” he huffed, “Would you and Bucky like to come for dinner this weekend? Sarah misses her Uncle Bucky and to date Bucky for real you would definitely need her approval.”
***
You examined yourself in the mirror as you straightened the outfit you decided to wear for dinner. You wondered whether it would impress a four-year-old.
Bucky stood behind you, fixing the collar of his shirt.
“I’m kinda nervous,” you confessed.
He furrowed his brows in bewilderment, snaking his arms around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. He whispered in your ears, sending a chill down your spine. “You look gorgeous, doll.”
You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. He gently rubbed his thumbs along your clothed stomach, and you felt calmer. His touch had that effect on you. His touch and presence was enough to make you feel content and for the first time in your life, you weren’t scared. You weren't running away from your vulnerabilities — no, you were swimming into it. And you weren't scared of drowning because you knew Bucky was holding you.
“I love you,” you breathed, “I love you so much, Buck.”
Bucky extended one of his hands towards your face and gently held your chin between his fingers. Lightly, he rubbed his thumb across your lower lip before lifting your face sideways, claiming your lips with his in a tender and slow kiss. “I love you so much, doll. More than humanly possible.”
Your eyes brimmed with tears and you kissed him again reverently, “Do we have time to spare?”
“We always have time,” Bucky mumbled against your lips, turning you in his arms to face him.
Both of you were so eager to feel each other that you didn't even get rid of your clothes completely — just enough to feel the other. He held your hips and lifted you on the dressing table, and you facilitated by spreading your legs open.
Bucky didn't waste a second before diving his tongue inside your mouth, making you feel dizzy with just the intensity of the kiss. One hand in your hair, the other running up your back to hold your neck, craning your skull to give him better access to your mouth. He devoured you like you were a delicious meal that he was starving to taste.
The hand in your hair hastened towards your breast, squeezing your covered nipple enough to make you gasp into his mouth and get your core wet. He did the same with the other before his hand continued its journey towards your cunt.
Bucky didn't waste any time — quickly, he pushed your dripped panties out of his way and his fingers teased your slit before one digit made its way inside you. His mouth left yours, and he nibbled your jaw and reached the lobe of your ear before whispering, “I’ve barely touched you and you're already so wet for me, pretty girl.”
Before you could react to his lewd words, another finger entered your willing cunt and you clenched around him. “Bucky,” you breathed, your voice barely audible with the intensity of your oncoming orgasm. “Want you now, baby.”
Suddenly, his digits retreated, leaving you empty, whimpering and clenching around nothing. He gave a few quick strokes to his already hard cock before plunging inside you and muffling your cries by crashing his lips with yours.
He gave you time to adjust to his length and when you nodded, he started thrusting in an enticing speed that had you grasping him around your cunt. Every push of his cock had you seeing stars. All that pent-up anticipation and sexual frustration had you coming in no time, but Bucky didn't relent. “Give me one more, sweet girl.”
His hand reached in between your bodies, instantly locating your clit, and you moaned loudly against his shoulder. Bucky toyed with your ear lobe, gently biting then moving downwards to the spot between your neck and clavicle. He licked before sucking harshly and then licking again to soothe the pain. You held his back so tightly that you were sure it must be hurting him, but he didn't complain, instead he growled in your ear as you tried to hold him inside you — tighter than before.
His hand was running calculated circles on your clit combined with his ruthless pace, and you were reaching your second orgasm faster than you imagined. “Bucky, I’m gonna —”
“I know, baby,” he groaned in your ear, increasing his pace, and a moment ago you didn't think that was possible.
You both reached your high together as he released his seed inside you, and that solely had you nearing your third orgasm. Bucky noticed and smirked before his still hand started running circles on your bundle of nerves again and gave you a few languid thrusts that made you reach the euphoria where you hadn't been before.
He held you, brushing your hair off your face, rubbing his thumb across your forehead to rid you of the sweat, praising you for being such a good girl for him. Once you were back from the land of bliss, he cleaned you both up before straightening your dress out — making you appear like he didn't fuck your brains out on a dressing table.
***
“Traffic,” you lied while Bucky smirked as he placed his hand on the small of your back.
Sam looked at you - both of you with a playful look in his eyes and Steve bought your lie without a second question.
As you entered the living room, you were met with a kid that reminded you a lot of Alec and Izzy. “Uncle Bucky,” she squealed before jumping in the arms of a bent down Bucky.
She stretched a hand towards you and said, “Sarah.”
You smiled at her and took her hand in yours before giving her your name. She looked at you with so much delight in her eyes that had you melting in a second. Oh, that reminded you, “Babe, the cake.”
“Oh, right,” Bucky scrambled to his feet and made his way towards the car to bring the gift you two brought for the family.
“Did you make it, Uncle Bucky,” Sarah asked as Bucky handed her the cake. She grinned when he nodded, “I’m gonna eat all of this myself.”
Bucky smiled, “It's all for you, sweetie.”
She held the cake in one hand and your hand in another before rushing into the kitchen with you.
Sam handed Bucky a glass of a drink that he didn't even notice because his gaze was fixed on you helping Steve and Sarah. You said something to Steve and he laughed loudly. When did you and Steve become friends? He wondered.
“Traffic, huh?” Sam teased Bucky once his daughter was out of their hearing range. Bucky nearly choked on the drink and coughed in embarrassment.
Sam eyed Bucky mischievously and told him to take a seat on the table. Bucky didn't listen and if he did then he pretended to ignore Sam’s words and made his way to the kitchen - to you.
You yelped when you felt two strong hands engulf you from behind, calming down only when Bucky chuckled and whispered in your ear, “Hey, it's only me, doll.”
Eventually, everyone made their way to the dinner table. The food was amazing, some of it was made by Sam - some of it by Steve. Sam’s cooking was clearly better, but Bucky told you not to tell him that because then Sam would get all smug about it. Bucky’s hand rested on your upper thigh for the entirety of the meal.
It brought you back to the time when you both were at your parents’ place and even then the gesture was so welcomed by your body and you. Although you always told him about how inappropriate a relationship with him would be, you secretly hoped that he would call you out on your bullshit. Anyone with eyes could see that you wanted him since the very beginning. Well, anyone except Bucky.
After dinner, Sarah went to bed and it was just you, Bucky, Sam and Steve situated in their living room with a drink in everyone’s hand.
“The cake was amazing,” you told Bucky when he took a seat beside you on the sofa. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and held your outer thighs with his other before placing you on his lap. You wrapped your hands around his shoulder and awkwardly looked around at Sam and Steve, exhaling in relief when you found them busy in their own conversation, oblivious to their friend’s antics.
“I can make cakes forever for you, doll.”
“Well, you'd have to make cakes forever if you wanna open a bakery,” you sassed and he laughed before pressing a kiss to your cheek.
You beamed at him, placing your head against his shoulder, “I’ve been thinking. With everything that has happened with Rumlow and my family. I think I’ve not dealt with all of it and it still bothers me.”
Nervously, you looked at him and found him already gazing at you with a look so patient and intense. You could see his adoration for you swirl around his eyes and you hoped he could see that same emotion reflecting in your eyes.
“And I don’t want to burden you with my shit, I think I’m gonna start therapy.”
He cupped your face in his palms and you looked at him anxiously. It was a big step - your relationship with him - finally acknowledging that you carried trauma that is affecting your life in more ways that you would like to admit. “Whatever you need, honey. I will be there for you.”
You leaned into his touch, craning your neck before pressing a kiss on his palm. “Did you think you'd be crazy for me when I walked in for the bartender's job?”
He laughed at your teasing words, holding your chin between his fingers and dipped his head down to kiss you. “I love you,” he mumbled against your lips, “And I have a feeling that we’ll be alright.”
“We’ll be alright,” you repeated his words. It was a promise of a happy and hopeful future - a future you were going to have with him. ”I love you.” You sealed the promise with your lips on his.
⁓
TAGS: @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407 @mybuck @priii @coffeebooksandfandom @ladydmalfoy @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @sabrinathesimp @realgaytrash
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A/N - I had an epilogue planned but idk - this feels very complete to me and I'm scared that if I add anything then it'll ruin the end. I think I'll take a day, think it through, try writing the epilogue and if I ended up liking it. Then of course, you'll get it. Bye Take care!!
#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n
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Before Our Story Began
Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.
It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately.
Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.
Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.
It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.
Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.
“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”
The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.
“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.
“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”
He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.
“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.
“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.
He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.
“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”
You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”
His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”
“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”
“So your friends are assholes too?”
“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”
But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.
When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.
And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.
Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.
He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.
Absolutely fucking perfect.
After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.
But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.
You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.
Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—
You really didn’t like where it was going.
When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.
“Bad day?”
Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven—or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.
“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”
AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—
But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”
“It’s cute that you do too.”
“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.
“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.
“Not if I had it with anyone else.”
You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”
“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”
Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”
“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”
“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”
He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”
“Shut up.”
***
Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.
It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.
While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.
It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”
You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.
So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.
“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.
Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.
“Haechan—”
The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.
“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.
It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.
So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.
But really, something still didn’t feel right.
“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.
You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Haechannie—"
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.
“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”
“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”
“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.
“Oh, really?”
And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.
And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.
“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.
“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”
Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.
“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”
He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”
“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”
“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”
You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”
“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”
“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”
“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.
***
About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.
It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”
Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.
You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.
“Noona?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m bored.”
“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”
“Finished it already.”
You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.
“Well, that was fast,” you commented.
“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”
“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.
“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”
“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”
“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”
“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”
“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.
“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.
“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”
“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”
“Can’t. You know how I am.”
You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”
“You saw me dance?”
“Hm-hmm.”
“When?”
“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”
“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”
“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”
And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”
“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”
“You should’ve said something, you know.”
“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”
“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”
“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”
Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”
“I’m studying.”
“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”
“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”
“Noonaaaaaaa~”
“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”
“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”
“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”
“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.
You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.
“Haechannie.”
“Hmm?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”
“But I am spending time with you, though.”
“You know what I mean.”
And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.
“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.
You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”
“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”
You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.
“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.
“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”
You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.
It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.
He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.
His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.
“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.
Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”
“Haechannie.”
“Yeah?”
“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.
He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”
You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.
“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.
But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”
“No way.”
“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”
You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”
It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.
“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”
And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.
Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.
“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”
“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.
“Why do you already have a condom with you?”
“Because I came prepared.”
“I thought you said you wanted to study.”
“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”
“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.
“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”
You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.
“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”
You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”
But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”
He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”
You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.
“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”
Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.
“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”
Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”
You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.
“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.
He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.
“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.
“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”
And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.
You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.
“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”
“Haechannie.”
“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“
You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.
Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.
***
It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.
Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.
It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.
Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.
“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.
“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.
“Haechannie.”
“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.
“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”
“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”
“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”
And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”
You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him. “Sure, why not.”
Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.
***
#lee donghyuck#lee haechan#haechan#nct haechan#nct 127#nct u#nct dream#mark lee#haechan smut#lee haechan smut#nct fanfic#haechan imagines#nct imagines#nct scenarios#mark lee smut#haechan x reader#donghyuck x you#nct dream haechan#haechan x you#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#haechan scenarios#nct#mine#sundaysundaes
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Feedee Teasing
Part 1: Greed
So this greedy whale wants some food does she?
Look at yourself! Look at all that flab! You’re disgracefully obese and you still just want to eat more and grow fatter?!! Hungry for more to fill your shamefully huge overhanging gut are you piggy? Well okay then you bloated cow if that’s what you want then maybe it’s time you were taught a lesson! You really want more food? You’ll get more food alright! Open wide piggy! Let’s just stuff you so full of fattening treats that people will stare in horror as you swell up like a big fat human shaped balloon shall we? Give you all you can eat, yes even you porky! And then more, and more, and MORE. Strapped down and forced to eat, eat, eat! A never ending flow of sinfully fattening cuisine to stuff you full to the brim, overfull, until you swear one more bite might just make your stomach explode, a 24/7 overfed sow, so much food you’ll swear you can feel yourself getting fatter by the minute as you’re wheeled from restaurant to restaurant, buffet to buffet, and made to eat and eat until all the food is gone as everyone stares aghast in morbid fascination at the size of your belly spilling out in front of you, at your huge bloated body slowly but steadily bursting the seams of your clothes as you gorge yourself on dessert after dessert until every last one is gone.
Well?! Is that enough fucking food for you greedy-guts? Poking your belly makes you burp! Nope, there’s still room in there! Off to the next place. Do you like donuts? Four dozen for starters? Doesn’t matter how ridiculously full you are, you’re going to eat them ALL. Everyone knows you’re probably too helplessly horngry to resist anyway haha! Greedy gluttons as naughty as you never can say no can they? So why not wash them all down with full cream milkshakes! Just hook you up to the drink machine and pump you up until you can’t take any more? Sound good you obscene tub of lard?! Then everyone can watch you blow up with fat until you burst from your clothes, until you’re so fat not even your shoes can fit your bloated round feet! What’s the matter piggy? Too full? But that’s never stopped you before! You’ve gotten too fat to move? Well no matter then you’re not going anywhere till you’ve eaten every last donut in the store. Aww you’re so heavy your chair has collapsed. Damn you’re a complete fucking whale aren’t you? Don’t think that means this is over! We’ll just have to haul you around on a big 1 ton trailer or something. All that obscene fat wobbling unsteadily down the road as you travel to your next awaiting feast. I know! We’ll put some mattresses on it, several cause one won’t be wide enough before long, maybe soft rubber ones so we can hose you down between feedings. Haha we can do that at a carwash, imagine the looks you’ll get! Huge soapy obscene fat rolls as thick as a man’s waist glistening in the sun!
Where next? The chocolate factory? Okay and then the ice-cream factory! Think you can eat it all? Well you’d be in no position to refuse now that you’re a massive helpless fat blob! You’re so fucking greedy it’ll probably only take you a couple of weeks. We’ll make you eat yourself so fat and round it’ll be a struggle to wiggle your arms. So much blubber! Unable to do anything except watch yourself grow and grow until you’re the fattest woman there ever was and ever will be. Swelling up fatter, and fatter, and FATTER until you’re nothing but a gigantic horny round butterball. Constantly tempted with so many naughty tasty treats. You can’t help it that they taste so good can you? You can’t help it that they make you swell up like a balloon! A big horny balloon.
Whimpers and moans muffled by huge handfuls of cake as you feel your enormous bloated body expand by the minute, plumping up, up, up, as your huge overstuffed stomach extracts calories from ungodly amounts of food, forcing them unceremoniously into your fat reserves. So huge and FAT that you’d wonder if you might actually burst whilst your titanic belly digests your next meal, oh dear! Yes indeed you overfed sow, that’s far, far too fat for your own good! But even then it’s a good bet you’d STILL be hungry, wouldn’t you porky? Look at yourself and admit it haha! Guess we’d have to launch food at you somehow from a distance, no way we’re risking getting any closer to a girl who’s clearly so greedy she’d be in danger of eating so much she could blow any second lol!
That’s what happens when you’re such a shamelessly naughty greedy glutton! Be careful of the path you’re starting down fat girl! That appetite of yours is clearly already out of control! You better put down that box of donuts before it’s too late!
Part 2: Gluttony
You waddle to the fridge. I can hear your panting and wheezing and grunting for the effort of moving your gelatinous body. You're addicted to glutting that doughy body. You're never full, even when you're not hungry. You chew and slurp and pour thousands of calories down your throat. Meanwhile, your fatty form pleads for mercy. You know what the doctor said. You're already morbidly obese -- even with all your supposed dieting -- and your cholesterol is still climbing, your sugars are all off. You're so massive that you're winding from the effort of standing on your weak knees in front of the fridge.
Do you even care? You can barely hold yourself up, and you've only been standing a couple minutes. You're far too greedy to pull your lips away from the quart of cream you're sucking down. Instead you ease yourself to the floor, heavy body still landing with a thud. That feels so much better on your pained joints, doesn't it? Now you can focus on how turned on you are. How good all that cream swelling your blubber feels. You switch arms because one starts to tire, moving on to the next quart of cream with ease. You suck down more than your greedy mouth can hold. Two trails of cream seep from your greasy mouth corners. What a thirsty piglet.
Underneath the mountain of growing lard, you squeeze your thighs together. It just feels so good, your empty hog brain can barely process it. You feel sparks shoot from between your legs and crawl up your spine. You toss the second empty and your gut gurgles. All that gas rolling around just makes you hungrier and hornier. As if you aren't always hungry and horny, right? You used to pretend that, once upon a time. Good to see you've slipped so far into the pit of hedonism that you're incapable of thinking that deeply. It doesn't matter anyway, right? Eating and cumming over and over while you bloat and grow... that's how you'd rather spend your shortened life.
You reach your stubby arms into the fridge and pull down a mess of Tupperware. Most people don't have this many leftovers in their fridge, you know? But I keep cooking and cooking for you, making more food than you can handle. For now, at least. These fridge raids keep happening more frequently... is your appetite getting that much more insatiable? You don't think about that, though. You don't think about anything. You just tip container after container into your desperate maw. You make a giant mess, but it doesn't matter to you. Under the food stains and drippings, you feel pleasure. Your gut gurgles and gas slips out of you, but you barely notice. I hear your wheezy sniffing. It sounds shockingly close to real pig grunting. You smile dumbly at the wretched smell and suck more slop down.
What's happened to you? Is the old you still hiding under all that sweaty, stretch mark littered flab? Is the old you screaming, begging this new gluttonous monster to stop? Or since resigned, submissive to your gassy, growing form? A bassy belch rolls off your tongue. You're drooling -- is it from the taste or your room temperature IQ? It doesn't matter, because you work the cap off a two liter, and greedily suck it down. You get even gassier, and your smile looks dumber and dumber. Pleasure is painted across your features. Your eyes aren't even focused, just glazed over and half lidded. Are you high, or is that all you? Not to mention the trail of slobber and food remnants coating your chin, and the bits hiding in the chins below that. You've hardly got a neck anymore. Your body just keeps blowing up, and you can't even stop yourself. The better it feels, the less you fight. And from the looks of it, it feels heavenly.
You have no appetite control, that much is obvious. Just like your self-control and discipline, it has withered away. You force gas out of your gut with your thick fingers, then resume cramming in calories. I bet that feels so good, doesn't it? Look at how hard your nipples are. Those swelling tits. I bet you're making your undies pretty wet too. Too bad I can't see them between gargantuan thighs and an overfed sphere of a gut. Another belch rolls off your tongue and your eyes practically end up in your skull. Your stomach is too stretched to ever be normal again. Even if you stopped your constant grazing and night long stuffings, your capacity is through the roof. We can't eat the same meals any more. If there's not an excess of fats, sugar, butter, or bubbles, you won't be full. You need to be full to the brim, and more. And if bleary eyed fullness doesn't stop your over-indulgence, a piddly salad never will.
You just keep sucking down all that grease. Don't think too hard about it. Keep growing. Get dumber. Get fatter. It's okay, piglet. Nobody is judging you. Nobody knows that you used to be a quarter of this size. That you used to walk without breaking a sweat, that you could see your toes before, that you used to eat healthy. Don't think about before. Think about now, or nothing at all. I'll keep cooking for you, making sure my sow gets all the necessary nutrients, like lots of carbs and sodium and sugars. All you have to do is tip another Tupperware in your mouth, crack another soda open. The weight will pile on, and you'll get all the pleasure you need.
Let's see how long your body can handle it, shall we?
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Been a hot minute since I did one of these. A good friend of mine gave me a suggestion on my discord:
So yeah this required a lot of research because I only eat like 3 things lol. Obligatory crack warning.
Tornado of Terror: Ice cream because A: it’s good practice for her esper powers to control a semi-liquidous substance and B: her constant rage has actually raised her default body temperature an additional ten degrees, so eating ice cream is a good way to cool off.
Silverfang: Oatmeal raisin cookies because he’s an old fuck. He likes chewy things because his teeth are held together by sheer force of will but also indulges in that extra crunch of the oatmeal to remind everyone in the old folk’s home just who the fuck they’re messing with.
Atomic Samurai: Any dessert-flavored cocktail that is made up of around 90% alcohol and 5% violence.
Child Emperor: Kid eats sweets for breakfast lunch and dinner, dessert to him would probably be a head of broccoli drizzled with a light yet flavorful dressing. Either that or milkshakes, because I get the feeling he doesn’t get to enjoy them too often... and of course they remind him of the good times with Zombieman.
Metal Knight: Only eats pre-packaged nutrient bricks and has not tasted anything sweet nor enjoyed a food morsel in at least 17 years.
King: I headcanon King as a huge momma’s boy who doesn’t get to eat a lot of homemade food because he fucking sucks at cooking and makes enough money to eat out all the time anyway, so his favorite dessert would probably be every and any home-cooked treat his mom makes for him.
Zombieman: I’ll be honest, I thought this dude hated sweet things but after reading that manga extra of him drinking sugar with a side of coffee, my opinion has switched. His favorite dessert would probably be something extremely decadent and sweet, like one of those 1000-calorie Dairy Queen sundae-shakes jam packed with chocolate and cookie crumbs. Or an entire fucking lava cake because this dude’s metabolism is faster than the speed of light and he’d probably stomach something like that just to see if he can, since apparently he’s all about breaking his own limiters. A friend of mine once ate three-dozen pot brownies in one sitting while speedrunning Mario 64 and I think Zombieman would be able to do that without the aid of the munchies. I know Zman internally insulted Pig God one time for well, eating like a pig but give the dude some alone time and an all you can eat buffet of sweets and he’d find himself in the same situation.
Drive Knight: Does not have a favorite food in general due to this motherfucker not installing tastebuds on account of them not being necessary to commit all degrees of murder.
Pig God: Oh my god. More like what isn’t this dude’s favorite dessert? Pig God has lost the ability to dislike anything he puts in his mouth because eating has pretty much become his main source of income, so it’s safe to say that if he can swallow it, it’s his favorite food. That includes desserts, but I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t partial to pudding. Just pudding. Bread pudding, chocolate pudding, strawberry pudding. Pudding.
Superalloy Darkshine: I’ve said this before but my boy Darkshine only eats the most obnoxiously healthy foods out there, sometimes over health-ifying those foods himself in his kitchen/protein meth lab. His favorite dessert would probably be one of those ancient bread seed logs and only because he’s allowed to put .2 ounces of stevia in it. Either that or literally just any fruit ever.
Watchdog Man: Those pumpkin-flavored dog treats because my man gets paid 2 cents an hour at the Hero Association and the poor mf in charge of payroll has forgotten he exists so he’s grown accustomed to eating only the dog-related foods people leave to him as offerings on his weird pedestal thing in City Q.
Flashy Flash: Doesn’t really have an affinity for sweet things on account of how fucking awful life in the Ninja Village was. He never got the opportunity to develop a sweet tooth because of all the basic ass food he’d be eating. Almost all desserts listed here would give him a heart attack, like making a Victorian era child drink McDonald’s sprite. It will not sit right with his spirit. His favorite dessert would he any vaguely sweet fruit with wine, or a coffee that is 90% creamer.
Genos: Something in my spirit is telling me he’d enjoy anything strawberry-related, although Saitama doesn’t like them. This leads to them falling out while a shortcake bakes in the background. Im kidding, obviously. But seeing as how ONE has a very “go stupid aaaaaaaa” attitude towards writing, it would be a very tame end to their relationship (assuming there’s gonna be an end) compared to all the other shitdick stuff happening in this series. Zombieman’s ass has been out for like 8 chapters, you can’t tell me shit.
Metal Bat: Kiddo snorts protein powder for breakfast, probably. He’s ripped as hell and his diet reflects that sorta, with a hint of seventeen year-old craziness thrown in there. Bitch eats like a violent stoner sometimes because he knows his metabolism can handle it and he won’t die from food poisoning nor food coma. However, his favorite dessert would be creme brûlée because it’s the only food you’re required to beat the shit out of before eating, and we all know he loves bonking stuff.
Tanktop Master: Over health-ifys shit like Darkshine, just to a lesser degree. However I also HC him as a huge momma’s boy, and if said mother is supportive in his endeavors to become the world’s swolest man, she’d definitely make him something both sweet and healthy. However, I’d doubt he care about slipping up on his diet every once and a while. He’d probably enjoy a soft serve here and there.
Puri-Puri Prisoner: his palate is very limited on account of being in literal prison. However, he doesn’t really hate it there for some reason, and I’ve even stated in a previous hc that he sometimes gets specialized meals in the cafeteria due to his status as a hero. His favorite dessert would probably be whatever chocolate-flavored sweet brick they can shit out. Like, motherfuckers get really creative with their ingredients while locked up and there’s a bomb ass recipe for chocolate cake floating around that I’ve tried and can confirm it’s 10/10 not bad. I’m getting off-topic. His favorite dessert is whatever asshole he’ll be eating out of that night.
Saitama: Even though he’s poorer than.... fuck, I don’t know. He’s broke but he still indulges in the prestige shit here and there. He’s got a massive sweet tooth even though he’s ripped as hell, hence why he eats so much fruit because it’s the only sweet thing he can afford to ingest without losing his gains. His favorite dessert would be anything banana-related, but nothing as decadent as say, dark chocolate. Probably banana foster waffles. I don’t know why that popped into my head, I just know Saitama would like them.
Garou: motherfucker could shit on a rock with sprinkles on it and call it dessert. His favorite, though? Sweet, sweet victory. And candy bars.
#one punch man#opm#zombieman#garou#metal bat#child emperor#opm headcanons#headcanon#atomic samurai#Tatsumaki#Silverfang#metal Knight#king#drive Knight#pig god#watchdog man#flashy flash#superalloy darkshine#tanktop master#Genos#Saitama#Garou
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Payback is a bad bitch
Pairing: Ushijima x f!reader, Tendou x f!reader
Warnings: Making out, Cheating, cursing, slight angst
Word count: 1.7k
So I came across this idea when I was scrolling through my fyp on Tiktok and I wanted to write about it so bad. The idea belongs to rand0m.p0vz_anime on Tiktok! I hope you all enjoy reading ♥
School was going pretty normally and (Y/n) was striding down the halls of the glorious Shiratorizawa to go pick up her best friend from his class.
She spotted the crazy red head and called for him. Tendou immediately grabbed his things and said his farewells to his classmates. Since their first year, they had always been together but this year’s class ranking separated them.
Tendou couldn’t keep up his balance of sports and school which resulted to his grades dropping just a wee bit. (Y/n), despite being the strategist of the girl’s volleyball team had no hard time in excelling in both the academic and athletic field.
Her dedication to the sport and her talent managed to get her a boyfriend, who by the way, was the captain of her best friend’s team. And because even the demon coach Washijo himself had acknowledged her smarts, she had often paid trips to the men’s gym-- where Ushijima had laid eyes on her.
Wakatoshi and (Y/n) got together during their second year. The stoic and intimidating captain had a blush on his face when he asked the girl out. The proposal had a bouquet of flowers and small pricey chocolate to add to the romance.
People who saw the cooed at how a girl could melt the captain’s coldness and things went uphill from there. Tendou was of course happy for both of his best friends but he couldn’t help but feel a small tingle in his chest every time he’s reminded of it all.
Speaking of Ushijima, they were on the way to his class when (Y/n)’s phone vibrated. The captain just sent a message saying that he had a meeting with the captain of the girl’s volleyball club and he couldn’t eat with them.
(Y/n) did not like the sound of a meeting with that smug faced bitch but what could she do, right? The duo went to the cafeteria to grab food and sat at their usual table. The seats around them slowly got occupied by other members of the men’s vball team and only the captain was missing.
You had gotten close to the team having spent time with the others during practice as well. At first the members were just curious what kind of genius you are to add to their curiosity, what kind of girl could easily catch the captain’s heart?
Their curiosity then bloomed into an unexpected friendship where you all became one heck of a family. “Oh right (Y/n), where’s the captain?” (Y/n) frowned a little before answering. “He said he had a meeting with the girl’s volleyball team’s captain, Semi-Semi.”
The setter’s face scrunched as he sent an accusing glare towards a smirking Tendou. “Stop teaching her shit you jackass!” “But Semi-Semi is fun to tease!” The others laughed but a few noticed your stiff mood.
“You alright, (Y/n)? Looks like something’s ticking you off” “No I’m good. Thanks for asking, Yamagata-san” A small smile was sent to the libero’s way and he shrugged it off and kept on with his meal.
Of course being the bestest best friend he is, Tendou already knew what was wrong and it only took a glance from him to tell her that he knew. (Y/n) just shook her head slightly to acknowledge that what he thought was right.
(Y/n) stood up from her seat and said her goodbyes to the team as break period was almost over. Tendou followed and walked her to her class. “You know Satori, being a guess monster must be quite the reputation, huh? You can even read me” you giggle at your statement and he follows suit. “I think I’ve known you for long enough to figure out how your mind works”
“Yeah yeah. See you later at practice Satori. I’ll come pick you up again.” “See ya (Y/n)-chan! I’ll be waiting!” with your last waves, you both went to your respective classes.
--
The last bell finally rung and it was about time for everyone to release the sighs they’ve been keeping in the past hours. You took your time in stretching before getting up and packing your stuff.
“Any longer and weeds might start growing from where I stand, (Y/n)-chan!” Oh you knew that voice all too well. “Satori, I thought I told you I’ll come pick you up instead?” Tendou entered your classroom, took your bag and swung it over his shoulder. “Let’s go shorty, Coach Washijo might make me run laps again if we’re late”
“Oh, I forgot how strict the old man was with you, he’s so nice and gentle with me” You stuck out a tongue at him and he made faces in return. “Have you talked to Toshi today? He wasn’t answering my texts.” That’s when Tendou began to think. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t heard from him either.”
As they made their way to the men’s gym, a familiar back could be seen from where they were standing. Even if she only saw a glimpse, (Y/n) knew well that it was her lover’s back. What she didn’t expect was another pair of feet just a few inches away from Ushijima’s.
With trembling hands (Y/n) quietly went near with Tendou trailing not far behind. With the right view of the angle, it was clear as a day that the captains of the girl and boy’s volleyball team were locking lips.
Tendou could feel the rage seeping from his best friend and for once, he was scared of her. The guess monster couldn’t tell what his captain was thinking and why would he waste the girl he’s always wanted? He was all for supporting the captain whenever he could but things may start to change today.
(Y/n) calmed herself and took deep breaths. Making a scene would do nothing but harm her reputation. So instead of throwing a fit, she let out a loud chuckle. “Oh hey, ‘sup?”
The two captains were caught by surprised but Ushijima was quick to recover. Before (Y/n) or Tendou could say anything, Ushijima spoke first. “It was just a kiss, (Y/n), no need to be dramatic.”
If Tendou could beat the shit out of the olive haired man in front of him, he would but it wasn’t his call to make. A nonchalant expression painted (Y/n)’s face before she swiftly placed her arms around Satori’s neck to pull him down for a kiss.
“(Y/n), what the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!” The captain’s voice had a mix of jealousy, anger and nervousness in his tone. Tendou had wide eyes but quickly melted into the kiss he has been dreaming for so long, even if it was in a situation like this.
To fuel the fire, (Y/n) reached to tug on the red head’s roots and deepened the kiss by sliding her tongue to explore Tendou’s mouth. Small grunts were made by both parties and by the time their lips parted, a small string of saliva could be seen.
Ushijima did not take his eyes off his girl. She used to do that with him, she would give the best kisses, be it soft or heated ones just like what he witnessed in front of him. Everything he had slipped out of his grasp because of his own stupidness.
“Calm down Ushijima, it was just a kiss, no need to be dramatic.” His words backfired on him and now his mind was a complete mess. “Damn Wakatoshi-kun, I didn’t know your girl could kiss that good. If I knew, then I would have snagged her a long time ago” Tendou didn’t mean what he said, or maybe that’s what he wanted himself to believe.
“I gotta admit Satori, you’re kinda tasty, I couldn’t resist myself. I mean after all, it’s just a kiss. Nothing to get worked up about” She walked towards Ushijima with her head held high. She tilted her head and inched it towards his as if she was going to indulge him with a kiss.
A few inches before their lips could meet, she let out a small sarcastic smile “Oh sorry I almost forgot how dirty your lips became!” (Y/n) cocked her head to the side to take a good look at the captain of the girl’s volleyball team who was quiet all through out the encounter. “Oh and you, enjoy my sloppy seconds! Enjoy him all you want ‘cause he’s all yours now!” She smiled sweetly before turning around.
Wakatoshi couldn’t bear but grab her hand to stop her from leaving. She just gave a confused look “Huh, are you dense or are you just fucking dumb? We’re over fuckface. Oh sorry, I meant Ushijima”.
The captain cringed at the word and for once hated his family name. “It’s Wakatoshi. Please wait, let me explain!” His hand gripped hers even tighter and for Tendou, it was the last straw.
“Hey cap, hands off. She’s not your girl anymore” “Wow, you really want me to spell it out for you, huh Ushijima-san? We’re done. I’m breaking up with you. I’m not your girlfriend anymore. There, what else should I say? God, you’re so fucking dumb!”
Tendou slung an arm around your shoulder and you gave a last glance to your now ex, back still facing him. “I quit being the strategist for both teams. Thet’s final. We gotta go. I hope I don’t see your faces around!” (Y/n) fully turned around and held up a hand to sign a goodbye.
“Thanks Satori, sorry about kissing you without asking you first. It was nice though” Tendou smiled at this, his friend was far stronger than he had ever imagined.
It was not a good time but he still had to shoot his shot. “S-say (Y/n), wanna hang in my place. We can maybe uh... continue where we left off a while ago, or somethin” It was rare to see Tendou flustered and the look on his face right now was priceless.
A genuine hearty chuckle sang from (Y/n)’s mouth. “You sure you can handle me, big boy?” She teasingly traced his jaw with her finger. They linked pinkies and headed towards the Tendou household.
A bitter taste was left in Ushijima’s mouth. It was real, he really lost everything. His team would also be greatly affected by it. The worst part of it all, your pained, hurt face was sure to haunt him. He was the biggest idiot indeed.
After losing their best strategist, they lost to Karasuno. On a brighter note, Tendou won something far better than anyone ever could.
He found his paradise.
--
𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥
#haikyuu!!#hq#haikyu#haikyuu#Haikyu!!#haikyuu!#Ushijima Wakatoshi#haikyuu ushijima#ushijima x reader#ushijima headcanons#hq ushijima#haikyuu wakatoshi#wakatoshi x reader#haikyuu tendou#tendou x reader#satori tendo x reader#tendou headcanon#tendou satori#ushijima angst
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Do You Have A Name, Or Can I Call You Mine? - Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fiction
Word Count: 2550 words
Warnings: None
Summary: Colson gets the phone call he'd hoped for, and more. There are more bad pick-up lines.
Where else can you find this: Ao3 | Wattpad
Colson grinned down at his phone, unable to hide the expression when he saw the screen light up from another message from Rosie, knowing full-well it was another cheesy pick-up line.
She sent one every on her lunch break, usually when Colson was just getting out of the apartment they were renting for the week, and he always sent one back. It was a bit dumb - real high-school childish shit - but he'd be lying if he said he didn't fucking love it, if only because it was an excuse to talk to Rosie.
They hadn't had a chance to talk on a call yet; they seemed to have opposite schedules, with her finishing work around four in the evening, just when his day was really beginning, and he was still passed out in the morning before she started work at eight. Still, he didn't think they went more than twelve hours without messaging each other, and he liked her enough that he'd even mentioned her in passing to Casie when they'd spoken, telling her the story of how he'd met Rosie
His daughter had rolled her eyes and told him not to embarrass himself and more than he already had with his bad pick up lines, only to be horrified when Colson told her Rosie found him funny, and had some awful pick-up lines of her own. The faux-fear on Casie's face as she'd whispered that now there were 'two of them now' had made him laugh so hard his jaw hurt...and gave him a little bit of hope that he and Rosie could make something work.
MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹
I would take you to the movies, but they don’t allow snacks.
That's what the kids are calling each other these days, right? A snack?
Woman, I am thirty years old.
I have no idea.
God I feel old. I called someone a hunk the other day, and Grace actually asked me what I was talking about.
Oh yeah? Was that someone me?
I couldn't say.
It was a pretty standard chat for them - but it still gave Colson butterflies in the pit of his stomach.
After a few days of messaging, the bad pick-up lines and chat had progressed into flirting, and now both of them were dancing around each other, trying to work out how serious the other one was...at least Colson was. He'd admit, it was a little bit weird to be the one feeling like they were chasing, and he was pretty sure he didn't like it. He was second-guessing what he messaged to her, over-thinking about what she messaged him, and generally giving himself anxiety over manning up and just telling her he wanted more than exchanging texts.
Logically, he knew it shouldn't be that hard; he'd literally been speaking for her for four days, if she told him to fuck off, then it wasn't like he was losing someone who'd been in his life for years. It shouldn't be this hard to just say what he felt. But everytime he typed it all out, he ended up deleting it.
He'd stopped even trying.
If you say so. Honestly, I've got other worries.
I lost my teddy bear. Can I sleep with you tonight?
I know you can't hear me, but I just groaned. Audibly.
The kids I have in detention are so confused.
As stressed as he was over confessing his feelings to Rosie, that was enough to make him chuckle under his breath. The juxtaposition of Rosie, the badass looking woman he'd met at a venue bar, and Miss Barnes, the secondary school history teacher, was utterly hilarious to him. He just kept picturing her standing in front of a whiteboard in her fishnets and leather miniskirt every time her job came up...and whenever he got into the shower.
Sorry, Miss Barnes.
Fuck off.
Chuckling, Colson slid his phone into his pocket and let himself into the studio he was recording at.
He was determined to finish early today; he might not get done by four, but he was hoping to get out in time to ring Rosie before he went out tonight. Maybe he couldn't work up the courage to tell her how he truly felt, but that didn't mean he didn't want to speak to her. If anything, he was hoping hearing her voice might give him the kick in the pants to come clean.
He was keeping his fingers crossed.
MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹
I know this is a bit short notice, but can we call?
Yeah, course. Everything okay?
Colson waited to see if Rosie would message back, only for her number to flash up as she skipped messaging just to call him.
"Hey, you alright?"
'I'm good. Friday's are rough.' Rosie sighed, sounded exhausted, even though it was only quarter past twelve: 'For once I didn't have anyone in detention so I've locked the door and now I'm hiding in the cupboard at the back of the classroom.'
Colson let out a low whistle: "That does sound rough."
'It's not that bad. I stuck an old desk chair in here and I have a phone charger and a bar of chocolate.'
"I meant the fact that you're hiding in a cupboard, but I'm happy you're happy in there." Colson snorted, hearing Rosie chuckle softly in return: "What on earth did the kids do to drive you this insane?"
'Ah, it's just the time of year. No-one wants to pay attention on a Friday, and next week is the last week before they get a week off for half-term, so all the kids have turned into monsters. Well, bigger monsters than they usually are.' Rosie sighed, before audibly cheering up: 'But I didn't call to bitch about my job; I called because I wanted to speak to you. And because I think I have found the best chat-up line ever.'
"Oh yeah?"
'I am going to complain to iTunes about you not being this week's hottest single.'
Colson laughed so hard that Rook poked his head through the door of the kitchen, looking confused. Colson shook his head, making Rook raise his eyebrows, only backing out when Colson flipped him off with his free hand.
He was definitely going to bother Colson about this later, the nosy little shit, but for now Colson couldn't bring himself to care about anything other than the way Rosie was laughing at her own joke. It was fucking adorable; she sounded so happy with herself for making him laugh, it made his chest feel a little tight. She was literally the best thing to happen to him this year, and he was already so attached that he didn't want to lose her.
The sudden realisation made him bold - he couldn't keep chickening out of talking to her. He had to tell her how he felt.
"I mean, that's good. So good I'm not sure mine is going to stand up to it."
'Well, we'll never know if you don't say it.'
"Wanna grab a coffee...because I like you a latte." Colson took a deep breath: "I suppose, to make up for it not being as funny as yours...I could tell you it's a serious offer?"
The only response was silence.
Colson was ready to take it back, only for Rosie to clear her throat: 'Like...a date?'
"Yeah, like a date." Colson agreed: "I mean, it doesn't have to be coffee. We could go for dinner; there's this cool restaurant that's meant to be good, or we could go do something fun, or - "
'Dinner would be nice.'
Colson's heart stopped.
She agreed to dinner. She agreed to dinner!
"That's great!" Colson swallowed, feeling the same anxiety that Rosie sounded like she was feeling, and wanting to get away from it and focus on the excitement building in his stomach: "Because you know what’s on the menu? Me 'n' u."
Rosie groaned, but he could hear her trying not to laugh as she did so: 'That was so bad...but it was also amazing, so it's a date. Literally.'
"It's a date."
'I can't wait.'
"Me either. I'll see you Friday."
Goddamn...
Colson saw Rosie before she saw him, standing just inside the front door to the restaurant they'd agreed to meet at, all lit up by the soft yellow-white fairy lights strung that hung in a curtain against the wall behind her. She looked like a fucking dream: in a modest black dress that she somehow managed to make look scandalous, the material hugging every inch of her, even though it covered her from neck to wrist to just below her knees. With bright red lips and scarlet shoes, Colson wasn't sure he wanted to share the sight of her with all the other guys in the restaurant. He was already half-ready to punch the dude at the front desk, who was staring at her ass while her back was turned to him.
Instead, he quickened his pace. The sooner they were seated, the sooner that guy could fuck off and eye-fuck some other woman.
Even though he was pissed, the look on Rosie's face when he opened the door was more than enough to calm him down: "Colson! Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast? Because you look magically delicious."
Just like that, the anger was replaced with laughter: "Damn it, that was good. You keep making jokes like that, and I'm gonna think you're a campfire - because 'cos you’re hot and I’m going to want s’more."
Rosie laughed, and allowed him to pull her in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck as he tightened his around her waist. He made sure to glare at the dude who'd been staring at her ass, even though he was now looking utterly disgusted by their exchange of cheesy pick-up lines, but mostly he got distracted by the smell of Rosie's perfume. It was a new one on him, but he was pretty sure he was already addicted to the muted citrus and almost peppery smell of it.
They reluctantly pulled apart - and Colson was thrilled that Rosie seemed just as reluctant as he was - but remained in contact by holding hands as they walked up to the little podium thing, where ass guy was currently looking down his nose at them.
"Do you two have a reservation?"
"Yeah, for two, under the name Baker." Colson smirked, watching the guy's face drop.
Colson felt no remorse.
Ass guy called over a waitress and asked her to show him and Rosie to a table upstairs, before telling them to have a good meal. Rosie smiled, albeit coolly, making Colson wonder if she'd been aware of the jackass staring at her earlier, but Colson just smirked. He wasn't usually a dick to people; he'd worked at fucking Chipotle, he knew he wasn't better than anyone, but this dude was just asking for it. Colson wrapped an arm around Rosie's waist as they walked away, letting everyone in there know exactly who she was here with. They could eat their hearts out, he was the one lucky enough to get to sit down to have dinner with her.
Just the thought was enough to make Colson smile.
Rosie smiled back: "Oh, wow. Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me?"
"Damn." Colson reached up to cover his smile with his hand, even though it was widening: "That was good. Not as much as the Lucky Charms one, but still good. Almost makes me wish I didn't ruin it by hating my smile so much."
"I try my best." Rosie winked: "And your smile is cute!"
"Almost as cute as you." Colson winked at her watching her cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.
Despite her blushing, though, Rosie wasn't lost for words: "Smooth."
"Yeah? How's this for smooth - are you Netflix? Because I could watch you for hours."
"Not bad...but not as good as roses are red, my face is too, that only happens when I’m around you."
Colson laughed.
Normally he liked having the last word, because the only thing he was more than mouthy was stubborn, and he wasn't ashamed of that...but something about going back and forth with Rosie made it more entertaining to just let himself stop looking for the next thing to say and just enjoy being truly present. There was no pressure from her for him to be edgy or sharp-tongued. Although she did seem to like him when he was, she also seemed to like him when he was spouting lame chat-up lines and being a dork.
It was impossible to put into words how good it felt to be able to relax. There weren't a lot of people Colson could let his guard down around, but in the short time he'd known her Rosie had already become one of them. With her, he felt like he could talk about what he was doing, without worrying that it was going to get back to someone it shouldn't or end up on the internet.
They talked about what he was doing in the studio, about her least favourite class to teach and how much she dreaded the last lesson on a Friday when she had them, about their family and friends and what was happening with them. Not once did Colson worry about anything he was saying or think about censoring himself. Nothing felt like stilted or forced - with Rosie, Colson was so engrossed in their conversation that he ordered and ate on auto-pilot, barely noticing anything other than Rosie. It was like she was the center of the universe tonight, and Colson couldn't keep his eyes off of her. It literally took the waitress coming over to ask if they wanted the cheque for Colson to realise that the restaurant was almost empty.
The waitress was all too happy to let them pay, hurrying them out the door as politely as possible, hovering as Colson helped Rosie into her jacket, and wishing them a goodnight as they headed for the stairs. They got out onto the street, standing close to the window to let the city pass them by as they spoke.
"Thank you for a really nice night." Rosie smiled: "The thought of this literally kept me going this week, and it was the best night I've had in a long time."
Colson felt his heart start to pick up, even as he tried to act onfident: "I'm glad it lived up to your expectations...I'm also glad you've been fantasising about me."
Rosie laughed: "You wish. Maybe I was just thinking about the dessert."
"In fairness, that passionfruit cheesecake you had was fucking amazing." Colson laughed back: "I'd dream about that."
"It was the best...well, except for you." Rosie smiled, her voice softening to something sweet and genuine: "I had a really nice time tonight, Colson."
"I did too. Honestly, I think you might be the best thing to happen to me all year...so, at the risk of ruining all of that..." Colson tailed off, leaning down to pause with his lips an inch from Rosie's: "Can I borrow a kiss? I swear I’ll give it back."
Rosie closed the gap herself, leaning up that last inch to press their lips together.
It was amazing.
#The Trees Writes#Machine Gun Kelly imagine#Machine Gun Kelly fanfic#Machine Gun Kelly fan fic#Machine Gun Kelly fan fiction#MGK imagine#MGK fanfic#MGK fan fic#MGK fan fiction#Colson Baker imagine#Colson Baker fanfic#Colson Baker fan fic#Colson Baker fan fiction
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**1.**Punching Gilgamesh the moment you are summoned/enter a fight/enter a room is not reasonable and should not be done at any time -Gudao
1a. Not even when he barges into the Camelot Room and threatens to everyone, especially when he does it to make your female counterpart marry her -Gudao
1b. Apparently PTSD is not a viable excuse to punch someone when you see him harassing someone. Noted.
2. Just because I am a King, does not mean I can give people nicknames. Makes me wonder how Gareth felt about being called Best Boy by Merlin.
3. Eating contests are apparently not allowed, seems food shortages are common with my counterparts.
4. As it turns out, screaming "To Valhalla" is not the best idea when you step onto Iskandar's Chariot. Especially so when you are right in front of the enemy.
5. Frankenstein is not a doll, do not dress her up. No Arthur, not even if she tilts her head and makes cute growls -Gudao 5a. Okay! Only if its a sundress! -Gudao
6. Getting together four of my other counterparts and forming the Saber Rangers is not allowed, especially if we have Excalizords. Seems the other servants aren't fond of needlessly big robots that take too long to combine.
7. Motorbikes are not to be used at any point or time in Chaldea, no, not even when Iskandar decides to hold the "Chaldea Grand Prix" -Da Vinci
7a. THE SAME GOES FOR OTHER VEHICLES YOU MONGRELS, UNLIKE YOU FUCKS, SOME OF US NEED BEAUTY SLEEP AT 3 AM! -Gilgamesh
8. Just because I can use a sword, doesn't mean I am allowed to attack my Cu Chulainn with it. I swear, he walked into it.
9. Apparently I am not allowed to compliment people? Turns out after I left the beach where I hung out with a sweetie named Kiyohime, along with master, Kiyohime attempted to burn someone alive because I said that master looked like a dashing man. I highly doubt she did.
9a. The smell is still stuck to my trunks Arthur -Gudao
10. My liege... My OTHER liege, please don't ever get Red Saber to sing "Total Eclipse of the Heart" again when I am about to utilize Galatine -Gawain
11. We know you are fascinated in other cultures, but please. Stop talking to the Servants of France about Sasaki Kojirou, we don't know if you made up his nickname, but he is not the "Savior of France" - Jeanne D'Arc
12. I would suggest that you stop entering the Camelot Room by screaming "Where is my love! Guinevere!", while it as funny once or twice, I can't stand to see either Lancelots' become depressed anymore -Arturia Altria
13. No offense... But please stop patting my head so much, I know you are basically my Uncle, but people are getting the wrong idea -Mashu
14. While Proto League is an acceptable nickname for the servants of your war, please don't ever enter a fight and scream it out again. We know you enjoy it, but it can get obnoxious after a while - Random Mob 1
15. Proving that I am male by either fighting or pantsing myself is no longer allowed after Heracles decided to do the same thing when a recently summoned Shakespeare made him question his own gender -Da Vinci
15a. Having the entire male team to pants themselves in front of the enemy is not a viable tactic against Archers, no matter what you watched beforehand and despite how fun it is -Robinhood
16. Just because Merlin suggested it, I shouldn't instantly do it. Its odd, almost like no one trusts Merlin, he seems just like my one.
17. "I saw a pest" is not a viable reason to drop a Corrupted Grail into the Babylon Room, we understand your dislike towards the King of Heroes, but Ishtar and Ereshkigal were caught up in the rage.
17a. "I was bored" is not a viable excuse to kiss a female servant while under the effects of Merlin's illusionary spell, Gudao has yet to leave his... specially enduced Coma.
17b. "I saw this scene-" is not a viable reason to go to a prior singularity and ask Muramasa to create a specific weapon, it is time wasting, no matter how strong the weapon is.
18. Suggesting to Rayshift to the point before someone dies is not a good idea, no matter how much fun it is for you to watch the "Crazy Murder Loli" die.
18a. Getting Fou'd is not a good reason to Rayshift back to your fight against Beast VI just so you can "Finish the Fucker Off".
19. Using a voice manipulator made by Merlin is not a good way to get people to be afraid when you shout a noble phantasm.
19a. Shouting "Stella" is not allowed, Arash prematurely shot off his Noble Phantasm while training and now we have to resummon him.
20. Just because we have a Simulation Room, does not mean I can alter the device to allow me to see someone from the past.
20a. We know you miss her, we do too. If you want to speak, you can come talk to us -Proto League
21. Trying to host an "Engry MIYA" talk between Nameless and Alter is not a good idea, just... Don't.
22. While having a Picnic is fun, please don't host them in the middle of a fight.
23. Just because a rabbit killed Gawain in a movie, does not mean you can threaten to cook Fou alive.
24. We know you love kids but come on, you can't just take Nursery Rhyme and Jack out to "Play Fetch" with the Dragons in France every after-noon.
25. Blaming someone that isn't even a servant isn't a viable way to shift blame.
26. I've been banned from the Kitchen, apparently forcing my way in and cooking the meals before Nameless is not a good idea. He looked ready to cry.
26a. Turns out mentioning the fact that Muramasa was far more willing to let me into his kitchen when I visited him was not a good idea. I don't think Nameless likes me much.
26b. "Just because I have the alcohol" is not a good excuse to get a few of the servants including Mashu drunk at dinner.
27. Just because you technically existed before Back to the Future 1 and 2, does not mean you can threaten to sue the creator, even if you can go back in time freely.
28. NO, NEVER DO THAT AGAIN, NOT EVEN IF KIYOHIME ASKS NICELY, WE SHALL NEVER REPEAT THE EVENTS OF YESTERDAY AGAIN.
29. "Look what I found" is a sentence that I am never allowed to speak when I am holding something bigger than my head or smaller than my hands.
30. Turns out that breaking my own arm is not the best way to get Nightingale to calm down. Never thought Merlin would be wrong.
31. "Sure you can touch my Excalibur" is not the best way to differentiate between Arturia's Excalibur and my own when someone asks to hold it.
31a. "But mine is bigger" is not a good response when Arturia talks about how easy her seals are to remove from her Noble Phantasm, nor is it alright to use when talking about when how she made Mordred.
32. Stealing Gilgamesh's potion of youth and putting it in the Soup that EVERYONE ended up eating is the easiest way to have myself barred from missions for a week.
33. Just because people are afraid of it, doesn't mean you should hug it. Not even if Merlin says to.
34. Just because someone stole your food, does not mean you should "Call in a favor" and have Elizabeth sing until someone gives up who stole it
34a. Update: The above applies to Nero as well.
35. Just because I have an innate fear of the Lancer version of my female counterpart, does not mean I can steal her horse and run away because of that fear.
36. Making King Hassan say "Omae wa mou shindeiru" is not allowed, especially if you reply with "I'm already dead" just to mess with him.
37. You are fond of Mordred, we understand. But please stop teasing her. Calling her cute will be her death - KotR
38. We understand that being locked in a single room with Nobunaga can be hard, but saying it was like prison is not fair.
38a. Quoting an abridged anime is not allowed, especially if it has "Sluts" and "Prison" in the same sentence, we still don't know where you got that swim team outfit.
38b. Making a mini Excalibur and saying "Blade of Promised Prison Riots! SHANKCALIBUR" is not allowed at all, Edmond almost had a heart attack.
38c. It is noted that the Arthur and Nobunaga were almost forced to kiss, but utilizing time manipulation to see Romani's death and threaten him with "Spoilers" is not allowed.
39. Just because Merlin asked, does not mean you should dress up as a "Cutesy Idol" and perform a song with a voice changer on in front of a camera for his "Magi*Mari" stream, Romani has yet to heal from that wound.
40. Looking Mordred in the eye and saying "Mordred, I am your father" is not allowed, especially when you have her surrounded by all the versions of her "Father", even the ones that just look like "Him".
41. "I solomly swear I am up to no good" is not what you say while standing behind the Director in the Lost Room, she died once already, we don't need her worrying about what you will do.
41a. "Remember that time you became a Loli" is not to be said around Olga Marie after what happened after she was... Killed.
42. Quoting Kamina from Gurren Lagann is banned, especially after everyone believed you were actually erased from the throne. Only to find you a month later taking off an invisibilty cloak and sneaking into the mens bathrooms to shave.
43. Anime is fun to watch, but please. Stop trying to explain why a certain character would be within the Throne of Heroes.
43a. Stop. Asking. When. I. Will. Summon. ISSEI HYOUDOU! -Gudao
43b. BOOSTED GEAR SCALE MAIL! -Arthur
43c. BOOSTO? -Siegfried
44. Valentines is a wonderful thing, we get it. But making everyone in Chaldea chocolate by going around and hunting in various areas is not needed, we have too much already.
45. Stop Rickrolling, that was so early 2000s, get with the golden times old man -Kintoki
45a. EX-
46. Commenting on the impractical armors of the female knights that walk around is not needed, we have gotten complaints about how they feel harassed -Staff Member
46a. I just wanted to help out... -Arthur
47. I am not to sing anything ever again, the reason isn't because I am bad, no. Everyone agrees I am quite good. But its the genre I sing coupled with my Charisma rank. Seems love songs should not be sung. How sad.
48. Just because I have cat ears, does not mean you should give me Catnip - Atalanta
48a. The same was repeated for Alter.
48b. Along with Tamamo Berserker.
49. "Merlin told me to do it" is no longer an excuse that is accepted, even if he did make you do it.
50. LITERALLY ALL THE THINGS ON THIS LIST ARE BECAUSE OF MERLIN, STOP LISTENING TO HIM.
51. I'm only responsible for a quarter of these, stop blaming me for your troubles, Normies -Merlin
Kiyohime asks Arthur what to do to catch Gudao's attention. Arthur tells her to turn into his most cherished person. She turns into Gudako and tries to force Gudao into sex.
#fgo#fate grand order#fgo fanwork#fate/grand order#arthur pendragon#fate arthur pendragon#proto arthur#prototype arthur pendragon#fate prototype#f/go
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Chapter 6
Masterlist
“You have to promise to smile nicely, not that scary thing you do when you’re fighting,” Kumi hissed as she linked arms with Baji and, as though she hadn’t just been fussing at him, flashed her winningest smile to the camera.
Baji grumbled in disapproval but once she nudged him hard in the ribs with her elbow, he smiled widely right before the shutter sound clicked, almost drowned out by the bustle of the city square in which they stood. Excited, Kumi ran over to the old lady who had been nice enough to take a picture of them together and thanked her with a bow before accepting her digital camera back. Before she left, the grandmother didn’t miss the opportunity to hold her gently by the wrist and whisper, “please encourage that young man to get a haircut.”
Kumi held in her laughter and nodded and the elderly woman nodded off.
The picture turned out nicer than expected and she showed him energetically. The two teenagers looked exactly like what they were just from the photo - a new relationship, a first relationship, awkward yet open to the future.
“See how cute you are! No one would even know you’re a troublemaker,” Kumi said, excitedly. Baji pulled her cheek in retaliation, causing her to yelp, but it was evident that he was pleased once he took a look.
The two were spending the day in the shopping district in order to get Kazutora a homecoming gift. Baji had insisted that Kazutora wasn’t exactly the type of person to get excited over gifts, but Kumi and Kaksi had immediately argued the opposite.
We’re throwing him a party, they’d insisted. The irony was that they weren’t even sure when he would get out, but they knew about two years had passed, so it was anytime soon and they wanted to be ready.
Who was he to argue?
So here he was, following her around like a lost puppy as she quickly weaved through the throngs of people in the square, in and out of his view.
“Don’t say anything but I’m buying something for Kaksi too, her birthday is soon!” she said once she’d stopped outside of a store that sold craft jewelry, eyes sparkling.
“Hey, don’t forget you still owe me chocolate,” Baji reminded her, now irritated about all the things that she was getting for other people and not him. Just the memory of Mitsuya dumping tons of chocolate in her lap in front of him on White Day made him scrunch up his face in distaste.
“It’s literally been months! Plus I didn’t like you then,” she replied, calmly without looking at him. “So I owe you nothing.”
“Bambi,” he hissed in a warning tone.
She grinned and pecked him quickly on the cheek, causing him to blush. She went one step forward and squeezed his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.
“Next year, I promise I’ll make you so many you’ll get sick of them.”
The picture of the two of them together, along with a sticky note that promised to make Baji enough chocolates to last a lifetime, sat above her desk, right in the center of her bulletin board, bringing a smile to her face between studies from that day on.
---
Despite the amount of time Kaksi spent with Mikey, there were still very few subjects that would get him to open up of his own accord.
That was - until it came to the subject of Takemichi Hanagaki.
That name would almost fall from Mikey’s lips daily, Kaksi now noticed, although it seemed everyone preferred calling him Takemitchy. The girl had met him once as her friend had invited him to one of their ritual lunches together. Despite not being a jealous person, Kaksi couldn’t help wondering why Mikey would be interested in a boy like Takemichi.
While their meeting had been short and he had paid for his own meal, he apologized profusely to the girl for interrupting her date with Mikey, even though it wasn’t a date. Because, she in fact had a boyfriend that wasn’t Toman’s leader. Observing Takemitchy throughout that dinner, she found him to be very different from the other people Mikey would call friends. Now being different wasn’t bad, she was aware, but it was odd that he was nowhere as bright or as strong as her friends and yet he was becoming pretty famous.
As Toman’s previous conflict with another gang unfolded, Takemichi was the one who had saved Draken’s life, Kaksi had learned with surprise as well as relief. For her peace of mind, she used to prefer not knowing about the gang’s business, but as she got closer to its members she realised this couldn’t always be possible.
So it was with worried and pleading eyes that she asked her friends to all be more careful. She didn’t want to attend any funerals again; despite not being close to Shinichiro Sano, his death was engraved in her memory after all.
And any moment she thought of him had her thinking about her boyfriend.
Kazutora.
Kazutora had been released without fanfare, and quietly returned home. From the moment he was out of juvie, he longed to see Kaksi, his girlfriend and set out in the direction of her home as soon as he’d gotten settled. But she wasn’t home to welcome him, however, he realized, disappointed on his very first day out. That was without knowing that she was planning a homecoming party for him though. He decided to go to her instead. Wouldn’t that be an amazing surprise? To see her boyfriend again?
The boy thought so and waited for the right moment, making sure that he would look good for their reunion after two years of separation. He had changed a lot however - his hair had grown out, and he was taller now - he wondered what she would think of him now. Maybe Kaksi changed a lot too, he figured, on his way to her place for a second time the next Saturday afternoon.
It was with Kaksi’s favourite flowers that he had decided to greet her. It would be her birthday soon after all, so there was no harm in surprising her with an early gift.The pink orchids in his hand contrasted with his darker outfit, simple black pants and a dark grey shirt. He wore a beautiful smile on his face, excited to see one of the people he had missed the most while he was away. He may have had one specific mission the moment he came out, but reuniting with her would never take a backseat to that.
Unfortunately, that joy was short-lived as his eyes laid on an overly familiar bike model, a CB250T, the one he meant to steal two years ago. Kazutora stopped in his tracks, unsure about what he was witnessing. But there weren’t two smiles like this one. Yes, he could recognise Kaksi’s smile from a mile away. The flowers he held started the crumble as his fist tightened around them.
What the fuck was he doing here?
The fury that was taking over Kazutora was deadly.
What the fuck was he so close to his girlfriend for?
The ringing in the boy’s ears was deafening as he watched Kaksi take a hold of Mikey’s hand, only a few meters away from her apartment block. She was only inspecting the bracelet she had offered to her friend as he told her about his fear that it might fall apart any second, but of course, Kazutora couldn’t possibly realize that from his vantage point.
No, all he knew was that the person responsible for the past two wasted years of his life was getting too close to his girlfriend. What Kazutora felt was beyond jealousy, it was madness that he had been feeding every day ever since Shinichiro’s death. Kazutora had already wanted to kill Mikey. That was the only thing that could solve everything, he believed, and this was even more evidence of the latter.
Why was Kaksi smiling at him? Why was she giving him those eyes? Kazutora couldn’t understand. Didn’t she know that Mikey was responsible for all the bad things that had happened to him? The pain, the fear, the loneliness, the anger - it was all because of Mikey. He was the bad guy. So why was she so close to him?
Kazutora had noticed Mikey’s deep black eyes lingering on his girlfriend a few times in the past. But Kaksi’s brown eyes only sparkled for Kazutora... At least that was what he used to believe. Did Mikey decide to take her away from him too? Of course, he would, Kazutora was convinced. Wasn’t Kaksi the dearest person to him after all?
Kaksi was the hands that would take care of his wounds, the ears that would listen to his nightmares and dreams, the lips that would kiss his salty tears away. She was his world and he was hers. That was how it had always been between them. Yet there she was laughing with Mikey like she wasn’t supposed to be missing Kazutora.
Did she forget about him? Was that the reason she hadn’t come to see him, her boyfriend earlier? Kazutora watched as she waved her friend goodbye, making her way to her apartment building, hand playing with the fabric of her dress.
Kaksi rarely ever wore dresses, he noted. Was she trying to impress Mikey? Kazutora was too angry to confront her, crushing the orchids he had brought her under his shoe as he walked away.
Once again Mikey was the cause of his pain and anger. But Kazutora had reached his limit a long time ago. He had to kill him, that was all he could think about on the walk back to his place.
Blood still boiling, he let himself stew in anger for a few more days before he turned to his confidant.
---
“Long time no see, Kazutora.”
Baji met his friend with his classic devious smirk, muting his excitement to see him after all this time. After all, Kazutora appeared serious, and the fact that they met under the cover of night in a dark alleyway only further accented the sinister nature of their meeting.
Kazutora smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Are you in or are you out?”
Baji didn’t hesitate when he replied, “yes.”
Agreeing would mean betrayal by formally letting go of Toman, a group he’d conceived of himself with his friends.
There was more he wanted to say - more about what had happened while he was gone, how he’d missed him, to thank him for helping him out, but Kazutora had one goal in mind.
Revenge.
A singular, unreasonable type of revenge that Baji couldn’t quite wrap his head around.
Mikey did not make you do anything. Mikey did not put the weapon in your hands and force you to use it, he wanted to tell him. Mikey will understand. He’ll forgive you.
But Kazutora was too far gone, and Baji had to find a way to temper it. For the three of them to be friends again, for Toman.
“Let us know when you quit. See ya around, Baji!” Kazutora said, nearly singing out the words as he turned and walked off. Baji frowned the moment Kazutora had his back turned, fists clenched as he remembered the source of the problem.
Tetta Kisaki, a somebody who should be a nobody. He knew in almost no time that Kisaki was bad news, and he’d find a way to get to him, even if it killed him.
---
It was with anticipation that Kaksi made her way up the steps to her boyfriend’s apartment. Kaksi hadn’t visited in a long time and it felt a little strange to be there once again, expecting to see Kazutora. She wondered if he was upset that she hadn’t come to see him while he had been detained before being sentenced to two years in juvie.
This was part of the reason why she hadn’t come to meet him sooner, the fact that she still felt some guilt at not being there, and also because she was preparing a surprise party for him. But Kazutora would understand - he could hardly ever be angry at her, she remembered and he was way more understanding than he let on. There was no reason why he wouldn’t be happy to see her again, she concluded, knocking on the boy’s apartment door.
Kaksi played with the fabric of her skirt, inspecting her hair one last time as well as the light makeup she had worn on her face, waiting for him to open the door. She wasn’t even sure he was home, and apart from Baji letting her know Kazutora was back, neither he nor her boyfriend would answer her texts. She wasn’t worried however, as there was nothing unusual about Baji ignoring her unless it was for an emergency and as for Kazutora, she figured he might have changed numbers once out of juvie and didn’t have an opportunity to tell her yet.
But as the wooden door finally opened, Kaksi hoped that it was her boyfriend that would welcome her and not his mother, and her wish came true. Kazutora stood in front of her and she froze for a moment.
He had changed a lot.
Kaksi’s brown eyes studied the boy in front of her. He had grown and the girl was incredibly jealous of his height, as he’d gone from being the same height to towering over her by a few inches. His hair was also longer and styled completely differently from what she was used to seeing and it suited him very well, she realized, feeling the heat take over her face. He also had a new ear piercing, one with a dangling earring that made a tinkling sound with every turn of his head.
He looked absolutely stunning. Yet the first thing that Kaksi had noticed was his eyes, Kazutora’s wide sandy eyes. As familiar as they were to her, she couldn’t brush away the impression that something was off about her boyfriend. Still, she figured it was the novelty of his new look and the two years that had separated them that made him look so different .
This boy was still her boyfriend and as he watched her in turn, studying the way she had changed (admittedly way less than Kazutora), she couldn’t help reaching for his face. Kaksi’s fingertips brushed Kazutora’s skin as she smiled in adoration. She could feel tears of joy blurring her vision and quickly blinked, not wanting to cry in front of him.
He allowed her, remembering how good it felt to be this close to her again. This moment was however short-lived as he took a step back and promptly pushed her hand away. The sudden action brought the girl back to her senses, and she spoke for the first time in a while, a little embarrassed by what she had done.
“It’s been too long, Kazutora,” she said, with a little smile. “Can I come in?”
He didn’t return her smile but nodded before moving to the side, letting Kaksi enter. Kazutora closed the door behind him then faced her again. She was still smiling and he would have kissed her if it wasn’t for the jealousy that had been eating away at him ever since he had seen her with Mikey that other day.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you earlier,” the girl told him. “I was busy with a little something.”
Kaksi chuckled, excited to show her boyfriend what that little something was.
“I know,” Kazutora’s voice was cold, very unlike him, she noticed.
The girl frowned, confused.
“What do you mean you know?”
Had Kazutora uncovered her planned homecoming party for him? Did Baji or someone else tell him?
“I saw you,” he said, confusing the girl further, his eyes staring into her soul. For once, Kaksi was wary about his look.
“Kazutora, what are you talking about?”
Her boyfriend laughed, but it was nothing like the melodious sound she was used to hearing when he was happy or amused. Rather, this laugh was as unnatural as it was frightening and Kazutora’s sudden change of expression didn’t help.
“I’m talking about whatever the fuck you have going on with Mikey,” Kazutora spat, voice louder and harsher.
Kaksi’s eyes widened slightly and guilt automatically washed over her. How did he find out? was what she first wondered. But this wasn’t what she should be asking herself when it was still unclear what her boyfriend was accusing her of doing.
“Nothing is going on between Mikey and me,” she replied, in a small voice.
But this wasn’t true. There was something, even if she wasn’t sure what. Still, she hadn’t done anything wrong, right?
“I saw you,” he repeated, his smile sadistic. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Kaksi.”
“I’m not lying, Kazutora!” She protested. No, she wasn’t, at least not entirely.
“What did you see?” she asked him, assuming guilt already, whether it was completely deserved or not.
What could have ever given away that she hadn’t been completely emotionally faithful to Kazutora?
“I came to see you, a few days ago,” the boy explained, getting closer to Kaksi, without his eyes meeting hers. “I wanted to surprise you. So I bought you some flowers and decided I would come over to your place. I thought we could pick up where we left off, you and I.”
Kazutora paused for a moment, remembering all the emotions he had felt watching his girlfriend stand so close to the person that had hurt him.
“But instead, I saw you laughing and holding hands with Mikey,” he continued.
So this was what Kazutora saw. But this was only a twisted version of what had unfolded last Saturday afternoon.
“I wasn’t holding hands with Mikey at all. I was ju-”
“Oh please, spare me the details,” Kazutora cut the girl off. “Instead, tell me since when did the two of you get so close to each other?”
Was it the moment he turned his back? Had she always wanted him?
Kaksi took a moment before answering, thinking about her next words carefully.
“I felt guilty after what happened to Shinichiro, even though it wasn’t my fault,” she told him, sincerely. “I was just trying to be a good friend to Mikey, that’s all.”
“A good friend to Mikey?” Kazutora asked, in disbelief, then rage. His fists clenched. “On whose side are you exactly, Kaksi?”
The girl frowned, confused once again about what was the real issue. The confusion made her upset, angry even.
“What the fuck are you talking about? There are no sides, Kazutora. Mikey is our friend.”
There was a new strength in her voice as it grew louder.
“He’s not my friend,” Kazutora replied. “And he shouldn’t be yours either. It’s because of him that I ended up in juvie. It’s because of him that I lost my friends. It’s because of him that we got separated, Kaksi!”
Kazutora yelled those last words and Kaksi wondered what she could tell him to help him regain his senses. It was clear that he wasn’t thinking straight anymore. Instead of feeling guilty for hurting Mikey, Kazutora had twisted the truth and decided to blame Mikey for his suffering. Kaksi couldn’t understand what had led him to believe in such nonsensical thoughts. But she couldn’t blame him, being completely isolated from everyone for two years after the traumatic event that had unfolded in the summer of 2003 probably didn’t help Kazutora’s fragile state of mind.
“Kazutora,” the girl said, softly, moving closer to him and holding his arm lightly. “This is not true. Mikey isn’t the bad guy, he doesn’t want to hurt you. He never meant to hurt you.”
This felt strange to say considering what Kazutora had done to Mikey. But Kaksi was unsure about how the boy would react to the unfiltered truth.
“But I am?”
“No, of course not,” she reassured.
“So why are you defending him?” Kazutora asked, the fury in his eyes making the girl step back.
“I’m not defending any-”
“You love him don’t you?” her boyfriend asked, taking a step forward.
Yes. But I love you too. I love you more. I promise.
This was what she wanted to tell him.
“No, I don’t, Kazutora,” she said, instead.
“Stop fucking lying to me, Kaksi,” he insisted, gripping her arms and preventing her from moving away from him.
Kazutora was strong and his hold on the girl was hurting her. For the first time in her life, Kaksi feared her boyfriend.
“I’m not lying,” she insisted, regardless.
“Then why were you so close? Why were you on his bike? Why were you holding hands? Why were you laughing with him? Why did you look at him like you looked at me?”
It was useless. This was a fight Kaksi couldn’t win. Kazutora might have been irrational in the way he had been analysing the situation but he hadn’t missed the subtle clues that his girlfriend had dropped, it was clear to her now. Kazutora was right. She loved Mikey and she had hurt him, Kazutora had every right to be mad at her.
“I’m sorry,” was all she could say, as tears ran down her face.
Kazutora didn’t say anything, he dragged her to his door instead. But Kaksi didn’t want to leave, not like this, not after that. She pulled as hard as she could, trying to stop the boy from moving her further. But his grip only tightened around her wrists as his movements got more brutal.
“Kazutora, please,” she begged, voice breaking. “Listen to me.”
But the boy had heard enough. He held Kaksi with one arm and opened the door with the other. She tried to fight him back, reaching for him as tears kept rolling down her cheeks. It was in vain however as Kazutora violently pushed her out of his apartment.
“Go fuck yourself, Kaksi,” he hissed, slamming the door in front of her while she fell to the ground, crying from desperation and pain.
#baji x oc#kazutora x oc#tokyorev#off target effects#collab fic#mae.writing#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers imagine#tokyo revengers#longfic
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Faking It - Epilogue
Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.
Masterlist Part 6 | Epilogue
Word-count: 2.3k+
A/N: okay so about a million years ago @corishirogane3 sent me the cutest headcanon for this series and i had to make it canon. i’ve rewritten the ending so much that i’m not sure how i feel about it anymore but!! i wanted to post this sugary sweet ending after my finals so 💕💕 i hope you guys like it
Caliban hated birthdays. His mother would always try her hardest to make each year better than the last, with more outrageous parties in the hopes that he would forget he was a bastard whose father cared more about his reputation than his son. It never worked.
Kinkle: Happy Bday man! You’re still an asshole but I’m glad we’re friends again
As if his childhood confusion wasn’t hard enough, Caliban’s teenage angst almost burned everything to the ground. He was angry at his family for abandoning him and his mother, at the people around him for being conceited and boring, and at California for being too goddamn sunny.
Theo: happy birthday to my gay awakening 💕
Birthdays made Caliban infinitely aware of his precarious loneliness in the world. He’d stopped telling people when his birthday was long ago, but somehow they’d find out and ruin his plans to spend the day alone and screaming at the sky. Year after year, it was just the same hollow wishes from people who didn’t really care about him.
Rosalind ✨: happy birthday old man. i got you a haunted portrait so you don’t wrinkle
But this year was different. Caliban still wasn’t sold on the perfect greeting card birthday, but he’d been less angry since moving back to Greendale. Dating you - real or not - meant he got a group of friends as part of the deal, and the lot of you had extorted his birthday to draw up his astral chart. Apparently, he was an Aries sun, Capricorn moon - whatever the fuck that meant.
Sabrina: Happy Birthday Cal 💞
Still, Caliban could move across the country and collect as many friends as he liked, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever enjoy his birthday.
With a sigh, Caliban threw off his covers and padded across to his closet. He pulled out his usual dark clothes and scrounged around for his leather jacket before realizing he’d loaned it to you. He smiled to himself and set to make himself presentable.
This first hour of his birthday was always spent alone. It was one of the many birthday traditions he and Isobel shared, along with birthday pancakes, ditching the last half of school, and triple chocolate cake with Sour Patch Kids stuck to the icing. He was thankful for all the things his mother did for him, but that first dose of silence and solitude was crucial if he was going to deal with all the birthday bullshit that lay ahead.
Caliban’s phone dinged with yet another notification and he stopped in the middle of the hallway to dig his phone out of his pants pocket. Sure, Caliban talked a big game about hating birthdays but he still checked every text he got, hoping for ... something.
Fitch: Happy non-birthday to the best not fake boyfriend I’ve ever had ❤️ I love you and I’ll see you soon
He always read the texts, but he almost never responded. He leaned against one of the door frames and started typing something in the way of a reply. The only problem was that Caliban was only gifted in the way of words when he was lying, and he never wanted to lie to you. Caliban sighed and locked his phone without sending anything. He’d figure out what to say once his stomach was full of pancakes.
Expecting to come downstairs to the low hum of Isobel singing along to music, the smells of cinnamon, sugar, and melted chocolate, and one very messy kitchen, Caliban was surprised when he reached the bottom stair and heard your voice. Everything else was as expected, but you stood out among all the chaos.
“Is this okay?” you asked quietly.
Isobel stopped her humming for a second. “Oh, yeah! That’s perfect, sweetheart.”
The pancake batter sizzled in the pan and Caliban decided to brave the kitchen. It was still as messy as always, but there you stood, clad in a borrowed, sunflowered apron and brandishing a spatula.
Since you and Isobel were whispering and watching the pancakes rise with your back turned to the entrance, Caliban walked over as quietly as he could and got a better look at the assortment of toppings on the counter. He'd just bitten into one of the strawberries when you turned to grab something off the counter.
You jumped sky-high and Caliban laughed. “Jesus. How long have you been there?” you asked.
“Long enough.” Caliban tried to sound nonchalant, which was difficult to do with all his curiosity. His cool facade was also ruined by Isobel rushing around the island to hug him and kiss his cheeks.
Isobel settled slightly after sitting Caliban down on one of the stools and promising to be right back with his present.
With your new-found solitude, Caliban turned to with an amused smile. “When you said you’d see me soon, I didn’t think you meant quite so soon,” he said. He reached for another strawberry.
You were happy to have caught him off-guard. “That’s kind of the point of a surprise.” You turned back to the stove to keep the pancake from burning but looked over your shoulder to add, “I mean, I can leave if it’s a problem?”
“You would deprive me of your company on my birthday?”
You set a plate in front of Caliban that had a single, oddly shaped chocolate-chip pancake. “I'd never dream of it, Abercrombie.” You took a step back, pulled out a knife and fork, and set it in front of him. “Tell me how it tastes?”
Caliban cut a piece and held his fork out to you.
“No way. That’s your birthday pancake.”
“You would really make me beg on my birthday?”
“You can’t play that card the whole day-”
“Yes, I can. Because it’s my-”
“Don’t say it-”
The word was on the tip of his tongue, but Caliban didn’t get the chance to play his birthday card another time because Isobel rushed back into the room holding a wrapped present and grinning wildly.
Isobel set the present down on the stool next to Caliban and tapped the top. “I know you don’t like opening them in front of anyone, but I couldn’t wait.” She tapped the gift again before reaching out and squeezing his hand. “Happy birthday, my love.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Caliban said in a low voice. Isobel gave him the sad smile she always did on his birthday and he gave her the matching smile he always did.
Your voice broke both of them out of their birthday stupor. “Well, I’ve got to get going or I’ll be late.” You untied the knot behind your back as you spoke before lifting the apron over your head. “I just wanted to stop by to steal a few legendary birthday pancakes and drop off the scavenger hunt stuff.”
“I’m sorry, would you repeat that?” Caliban asked, sounding as saintly as he could.
Isobel laughed. “Your brilliant girlfriend figured out how to give you a special birthday while letting you spend the whole day by yourself.” She wrapped an arm around Caliban’s shoulders and looked over at you. “There are clues and activities all over town and you can only come back once you’ve finished them all.”
As intriguing as a day spent on his own seemed, Caliban couldn’t help but feel like there was a catch coming. “And what about my daily need for education?”
“I thought you were a fan of more alternate education,” you teased. You leaned over and ate another bite of pancake. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft in your old age.”
Caliban gave a short laugh. “I said no such thing.”
You smiled. “Your mom promised to give you the first clue after your first pancake stack. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Caliban nodded, suddenly unsure of how to respond. He was bad at receiving gifts at the best of times, and this gift was personal and bestowed upon him in front of his mother. It was an awkward set of circumstances. “Thank you,” he said softly as he hugged you goodbye.
“Of course.” You kissed his cheek and disappeared out of the kitchen after waving goodbye to Isobel.
Once you were gone and Caliban was left with the familiar sounds and smells of the morning of his birthday, he began to think that maybe his opinion on birthdays needed a bit of changing.
---
Though he’d only participated in a few scavenger hunts, Caliban was competitive and he was relentless. He tore through clue after clue in the same ravenous fashion that a pack of wolves would their next meal, though he tried to savor it as best his hunger would allow. Every handwritten clue was kept, every souvenir pocketed, and every moment memorized. He didn’t want to waste the most thoughtful gift he’d ever been given just because he was an impatient bastard.
But, as he stared at his suspiciously dark house, he wondered if he should have taken it a bit slower. The last clue had hinted at something waiting for him at the house, and his desire to finish the scavenger hunt waged war on his hatred of birthday parties. He was just about to put the car in reverse and dart into the street when your head popped around a curtain. You ducked inside at such a speed when your eyes met his that Caliban laughed at the mental image of you crashing into a lamp and trying to play it off.
In the end, neither his desire nor hatred lured him into the depths of his birthday party. His bizarre inclination to do anything and everything you wanted drew him in.
So, Caliban showed up at his party. He wore a party hat, played nice with the other kids, and blew out the candles on his cake. All in all, it should have been the perfect end to his perfect day. But even with all your careful planning, there was no accounting for the bullshit hole in Caliban’s chest that always left him feeling empty.
When the hole in his chest got too big, Caliban sneaked up the stairs, ducked into his room, and slipped out the window. He wasn’t running away - though the thought did cross his mind - but he just needed some fresh air. Harvey’s laughter mingled with that of his other friends and the laugh tracks of bad movies, drifting through the open window to the warmth of the April night. Still, there wasn’t enough fresh air in the world to fix him.
“Hey!”
Caliban twisted around to see you popping your head out of his bedroom window. You had a silly grin on your face and your hair was falling all over your face. The hole in Caliban’s chest got a little smaller. Your smile softened as you tilted your head to mirror his.
“Hey, you wanna get out of here?”
“Aren’t you worried about missing the party?” Caliban asked.
You shrugged. “Roz and Theo ate all the good snacks so it’s pretty lame anyway.” Caliban laughed and you flashed him another smile. “Come on, Abercrombie, you really gonna make me climb on the roof to come get you?”
Caliban let out a long whistle and adjusted to get a better look at you. “I’d like to see you try, but careful - it’s slippery out here.”
“Stop being an asshole and let’s get out of here before someone notices we’re gone.”
Grinning, Caliban rolled over and held a hand out to you. There was no need to be so secretive, really, but sneaking down his mother’s carefully cultivated trellis was half the fun. Caliban squashed some hydrangeas on the way down, you tumbled into him after getting your foot stuck, and the two of you were left breathless for a moment before rushing to the car so no one would discover your attempted prison break.
Giddy as you turned onto the freeway, the two of you laughed with the windows down and music blaring. Caliban didn’t think his birthday could get any better than it already was, but that moment with you was his favorite part. Or at least, it was until you started complaining about wasting away and you pulled into a diner for something to eat - then he found a new favorite moment.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“You know what.” You tilted your head. “Is this because of the fry thing? I’m telling you, if you just try it then you’ll like it.”
Caliban laughed and shook his head at ‘the fry thing,’ also known as your insistence to dip your fries in whatever milkshake you had on the day. “I’m not trying it.”
“You’re a coward.”
“You can’t say that to me. It’s my birthday.”
“You hate birthdays.”
“Still.”
Rolling your eyes, you pushed the plate of fries over to him. “Try it once, okay? And you’ll see it’s the perfect combination of salty and sweet, hot and cold, yummy and delicious.”
Caliban couldn’t help it. He’d been putting it off for almost a year now, and it just didn’t feel right to say no to you after everything you’d done for him today. Plus, you were cute when you got your way. So, he reached out and dipped a fry in the milkshake.
Annoyingly, it was everything you’d said and more. Despite the sugary, fried high he was bound to be on in a few minutes, Caliban knew the best part of this whole endeavor would be to see your sickeningly smug face when he admitted defeat.
You’d turned him into a cheesy cliche. He was disgustingly romantic, he carried your books between classes, and had your coffee order memorized. Because you were the sweet to his salty, the brave to his reckless, the Fitch to his Abercrombie.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Tagged: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @caliban-is-my-girl @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @luquincy @marina468 @olivia-west-allen @drrramaaaqweeen @roxytheimmortal @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito
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[so i wrote this fic, based on my own post. xicheng, fluff, so much fluff]
-
“He said he didn't sign up for a kid.”
“And what did you say?”
“That Jin Ling is not a kid, obviously. He is fourteen.” Jiang Cheng answers, drinking the rest of the wine. When they were renovating the house, Lan Wangji made sure to add a big, fancy, wine cellar that is always filled with Wei Wuxian's favorite Gusu wine, it's ridiculous, but whenever Jiang Cheng feels the need to get wasted, he'd much rather drink something good than the cheap beer he keeps in his fridge.
Wei Wuxian bursts out laughing, spitting wine everywhere. He immediately flinches and scrambles to wipe it off – Lan Wangji is very particular about his kitchen, Wei Wuxian had said – while giggling. Jiang Cheng immediately regrets every decision he's ever made and vows to stay at home next time. At least the cheap beer won't make fun of his misery.
Wei Wuxian keeps laughing as Jiang Cheng fills another glass of wine, rolling his eyes. He's not nearly drunk enough for this shit. “Jiang Cheng, you know you are allowed to talk about something else during a date, right?”
Jiang Cheng scoffs. Of course he knows, he isn't stupid or new to this. He's been on more dates than he can remember, but his life revolves around taking care of Jin Ling, and when his date asks about his family, well –
“If they can't accept the fact that Jin Ling will always be there, then they might as well fuck off.” Jiang Cheng points out.
“Well, sure.” Wei Wuxian concedes. “But you don't even give them time to know if they want to be involved with you before you're kicking them away. That's not how first dates are supposed to go.”
“How would you know,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, annoyed that Wei Wuxian might be right. This time. “You haven't been on a date since like, 2002.”
“2001.” Wei Wuxian corrects, resting his head on his hand and smiling. Disgusting. “But I have a fifteen year old boy, I hear things.”
“Yeah, you're the cool parent, fuck off.” Jiang Cheng drops his head on the table, groaning. The room is starting to spin around him and Wei Wuxian's annoying laughter is making him want to throw up.
He's never getting drunk with his brother again, Jiang Cheng thinks, vowing to buy his own Gusu wine and spare himself the humiliation.
–
“Did you get drunk with Uncle again?” Jin Ling walks into Jiang Cheng's bedroom, Little Fairy – not so little anymore – following him and immediately starting to jump on the bed. “Did you have a bad date?”
“The worst.” Jiang Cheng groans into his pillow, Fairy huffing and barking next to him.
Somehow he falls asleep again and wakes up hours later with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin on his bedside table.
Fuck all the failed dates, this is the only thing that matters.
–
Business meetings are the bane of Jiang Cheng's existence, but he's still Jin Ling's guardian and as long as he attends the stupid parties, his nephew won't have to and really, he'd rather kill himself before letting a fourteen year-old boy be part of this world.
It's barely nine and Jin Guangshan is not even drunk but he's laughing loudly, making lewd comments about his employees, and Leader Yao is already asking about the strippers. Jiang Cheng feels sick.
“Sometimes,” Lan Xichen says, coming to sit next to Jiang Cheng at the bar, “I wish I could get drunk.”
Jiang Cheng snorts, raising his glass of water. “Me too.” He doesn't drink with people he doesn't trust, knows Jin Guangshan or Jin Zixun wouldn't hesitate to use it against him or Jin Ling.
Someone announces the strippers are coming and Jin Guangshan celebrates by opening a new bottle of champagne. “They could at least feed us.” Jiang Cheng says, rolling his eyes. Lan Xichen huffs out a laugh.
They've known each other for a long time but their interactions have been limited to family dinners at Wei Wuxian's house and during Jin Guangshan's parties. Lan Xichen used to travel a lot for work, never staying home for long, but on the rare occasions they've met, he always had a gentle smile on his face.
Many people say Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen could be twins, despite the three year difference between them, but Lan Xichen is far more pleasant to speak with. And handsome too – Jiang Cheng notices, blushing when the man looks at him with a questioning look.
Fuck, where's the wine when he needs it.
There's more yelling and cheering when the strippers arrive and Lan Xichen turns around immediately. “Don't you just wish they would stop doing this?” He asks.
“Every time.” Jiang Cheng answers, watching a woman start to give Jin Guangshan a lap dance. There are at least a dozen of them and soon enough the clothes start to disappear and Jiang Cheng winces when a half-naked blonde smiles at him. “Fuck it.” He says, slamming his glass on the counter. “I'm too gay for this shit.” Lan Xichen's eyes widen and Jiang Cheng actually feels sorry for him. Sighing, he decides no one deserves to go through this alone. “Wanna get out of here?” He asks.
The other man blinks, surprised, but not a moment later, smiles. “Yes, yes, I do.”
–
“My mother used to bake.” Lan Xichen says, taking another bite of his fish. Earlier, when Jiang Cheng teased him about not talking while eating – one of the many rules of the Lan sect, Lan Xichen confessed, laughing, that he's not a good example of how a Lan should be. ('Is it because you smile too much?', Jiang Cheng joked and Lan Xichen laughed and laughed.) “Wangji always loved her chocolate cakes.”
“How about you?” Jiang Cheng asks.
“Oh,” Lan Xichen startles, like no one has ever asked him this question before, “I – don't really like sweets.” He shrugs, smiling. “I always preferred her chicken soup.”
“Jin Ling hates soup.” Jiang Cheng says, frowning. “I don't know how he can be a Jiang and hate soup. It's all Jin Zixuan's fault.” Jiang Cheng has always tried to keep Jiang Yanli's memory alive, to tell Jin Ling about his mother as much as possible, so he can remember and treasure her, as she always deserved. But, Jiang Cheng guesses, he talked too much about her and too little about Jin Zixuan, and as Jin Ling grew up he kept trying to know more about his father, trying to find a way to become a little more like him and a little less like his mother.
It's hard not to feel like he failed them both, somehow.
“You talk a lot about him.” Lan Xichen says, softly. Jiang Cheng feels himself getting red, embarrassed at being called out yet again.
“I –” he coughs, “I can't help –”
“Oh, no, no.” Lan Xichen hurries to say, taking Jiang Cheng's hand in his. “I find it lovely.”
“Oh.” Jiang Cheng whispers, feeling incredibly stupid. He doesn't know how to react when being complimented, years of self-loathing making him unable to believe in the truthfulness behind the words. But this is Lan Xichen, he might talk during meals, but he isn't a liar. Somehow, that makes Jiang Cheng feel even more shy. “Thank you.”
Lan Xichen smiles and Jiang Cheng finds himself wanting to giggle like a teenager, happy and bubbly, and – cherished?
What the fuck.
–
“That was better than Jin Guangshan's party.” Jiang Cheng points out, walking to his car. Lan Xichen insisted on walking with him and this time Jiang Cheng does blush like a teenager.
“It was.” Lan Xichen agrees, stopping in front of Jiang Cheng's car and smiling. Jiang Cheng doesn't know how and why he's always smiling, but it is doing things to his heart and it's fucking confusing. He's known him for more than a decade, his body shouldn't be reacting like this. “We should do it again next week.”
“Fuck, no.” Jiang Cheng blurts out, shuddering. “One party a month is enough for me, thanks.”
“I meant the date.” Lan Xichen says, smiling still, always smiling, forever smiling. Jiang Cheng wants to punch him. With his mouth.
Wait – “Date?” He blinks, staring up at the other man, confused. Lan Xichen takes his hand again, eyes shining with – curiosity? Expectation?
Jiang Cheng looks away, towards the restaurant where they just finished eating while talking about their families, where Lan Xichen occasionally held his hand, even ignored the waitress trying to flirt with him in order to laugh as Jiang Cheng talked about the time Jin Ling tried to dye his hair blue but ended up looking a Smurf.
Oh, fuck, they were on a date.
“Oh, shit.”
Lan Xichen chuckles, squeezing his hand. “So?”
“I –” Jiang Cheng clears his throat. He had no idea what was happening and he still had the best date of his life, “yeah, sure. Next week. A date. Sure.”
“Good.” Lan Xichen steps closer, presses a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth that makes Jiang Cheng's knees go weak. “I'll call you.” He whispers and turns around, walking towards his own car.
Fuck. Jiang Cheng opens the door with shaking hands, starts the car and finally gives into the urge to laugh.
–
“Did he talk about Jin Ling the entire time?” Wei Wuxian asks, jumping around them like an energetic puppy.
“Shut up.” Jiang Cheng orders, ready to jump on his brother, but Lan Xichen stops him with a hand on his thigh.
“It was very adorable.”
“Oh my god!” Wei Wuxian yells, laughing like a mad man.
Jiang Cheng drops his head on Lan Xichen's shoulder, groaning, but, as his boyfriend kisses the top of his head gently, he realizes he regrets nothing.
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Mistakes and Sour Grapes : Modern!Poe Dameron x Reader (One)
Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Excerpt: “You were totally fucking staring, and he totally fucking caught you, and wait, maybe he was staring back and had his cheeks been pink the whole time?”
Warnings: Alcohol, some cursing, future parts are gonna be slutty.
I am extremelyyyyy unsure about this so if it’s a thing you guys are into, please, please let me know.
[SERIES MASTERLIST]
Bars weren’t really your thing.
Especially in a city that was typically known to be overrun with tourists at any given time of year.
They were crowded and loud, and you usually weren’t the biggest fan of the style of music blaring through nearly shot speakers, and you definitely weren’t a fan of the headache you’d often suffer with afterwards from the absurd amount of bass they deemed necessary. They smelled bad, they were dark and dingy and gross, and many patrons were less than respectful and showed little regard after knocking back a few drinks.
It really wasn’t your thing.
But you had a friend who worked as a bartender at a small brewery and local restaurant, and that was definitely more your speed, and honestly the only time you did end up sitting at a bar. Most Friday and Saturday nights, you found yourself practically drooling over a plate of delicious food and, depending on your mood, either a beer or a cocktail while making smalltalk with Finn as he worked. And most of the time, you’d end up the last customer in the building, staying late to help Finn put away glasses or wipe down the counter, partially so he could get out of there faster, but mainly because you just enjoyed spending your time there.
It was one of those nights now, where you were behind the bar, a rag in your hand as you wiped water droplets from still warm tumblers while Finn worked on the wine glasses.
“I’m telling you,” Finn said from behind you. “You’d make more money bartending here.”
You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully as you peeked over your shoulder towards him.
“I have a job,” you reminded him for the hundredth time in the last ten days. Ever since another bartender had put in their two weeks, he had been trying to convince you to put in an application.
“Yeah, a shitty one. Come on, I could move out to the beer garden, you could take over in here. It would be absolutely perfect.”
You laughed, shaking your head almost teasingly. “Perfect for your schedule maybe.”
“And for yours! Look, you hate waking up early. If you worked here, you could sleep in until noon if you wanted. And we’d be coworkers. What more could you ask for in a job?”
You rolled your eyes again, turning back to the look at the tumbler in your hand, falling back into a comfortable silence.
One that didn’t last long by any means, for Finn was apparently damned and determined.
“I mean technically, you’re already working. Might as well get paid to do it.”
“Putting away glasses is hardly working.”
“You’d get tips nightly instead of having to wait every other week for a paycheck. And did I mention you’d make more?”
“Might make more, but it’s not consistent.”
“You like the vibe up here. You like the building.”
Now there was a point that you would actually consider.
You did like the vibe.
It was laid back, relaxed while still being a more refined atmosphere. Most people who sat at the bar were corporate workers or couples, just looking to have a drink and a good meal after a long day, and the other restaurant goers were typically families.
The building itself was just a year away from turning two hundred years old, and the history behind it intrigued you to no end, including the fact that it was said to be the most haunted building in the city. That was something you were entirely into.
You hesitated, tilting your head to the side and gnawing on your bottom lip.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe.”
His response came in the form of a bar towel snapping through the air and hitting the back of your thigh, and you yelped before dissolving into a fit of laughter, thankfully having just set the last tumbler in its place. You were pretty sure you would have dropped it had it still been in your hands.
Finn hung the last wine glass just after — his last task for the night, and you were ready to make your escape, but before you could even push back from the counter he was reaching around you for two of the tumblers you had just put away.
“Okay, we’ve gotta take a shot to celebrate, and we’re makin’ it a double.”
You laughed again, the sound completely exasperated yet so amused at the same time. “Finn, I didn’t say yes. And even if I put in an application, I’m not guaranteed to get it.”
“Oh you’re gettin’ it alright,” he snorted, shaking his head. “I’ll beg if I have to. Now what are we having?”
“You’re still on the clock.”
He narrowed his eyes playfully, whipping his head around dramatically, quite literally spinning in place, arms open wide as he gestured to the empty restaurant. “And who the hell is going to care? I’ll just put it on your tab.”
A third laugh, and a reason Finn was your best friend. He could always make you fucking laugh. You raised your hands in mock surrender.
“Now what are we having?” he repeated his prior question, quirking an eyebrow.
You thought about it for a moment, drumming your fingers along the countertop, lips pursed. “Chocolate cake shots.”
“Excuse me, what?”
“What kind of bartender are you?”
“A shitty one apparently,” he scoffed, his eyebrow raising just a fraction higher. “Now explain.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s one part vodka, one part Frangelico, and-”
“-and a sugared lemon on a sugared rim.”
You jumped, and Finn nearly dropped the glasses as a new voice echoed throughout the room, but you watched as he quickly relaxed, a look of recognition crossing over his face.
He turned slowly, the action conveying mock annoyance, and you peeked around him, glancing towards where the voice had come from.
A man with short salt and pepper curls and tanned skin was walking down the staircase, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and a smug smirk tugging at his lips. A noise caught in your throat, one you wouldn’t have even been able to begin to describe, and Finn managed to catch it, glancing back towards you for just a brief second before turning his attention back to the man approaching.
The undeniably handsome, gorgeous, breathtaking man in an olive green hoodie with the sleeves pushed up mid-forearm, a good two day’s worth of stubble covering his jaw. A small scar on his cheek. Big brown eyes.
Were you staring? Fuck, you were totally staring.
You were totally fucking staring, and he totally fucking caught you, and wait, maybe he was staring back and had his cheeks been pink the whole time?
“Of course you’re still here. Do you ever leave or did you convert one of the rooms upstairs into an apartment?”
“There’s an idea,” the man chuckled, tearing his gaze away from you, and you felt a small amount of air flood back into your lungs.
You were still staring though, blatantly so, and you couldn’t even find the shame to stop yourself. You watched as his eyes fluttered back over to you, quickly, for a mere second before he eyed the tumblers in Finn’s hand, quirking an eyebrow.
“She wanted to buy me a drink and it would’ve been rude to turn a customer down,” Finn deadpanned, and you couldn’t help but snort.
The man shrugged, leaning against the counter opposite of you. “Make it three.”
“Yes sir.”
Finn grabbed a third glass after setting the first two down, not taking his eyes off of what he was doing as he nodded towards you, saying your name.
“This is Poe Dameron, the owner. Dameron, you are now in the presence of my best friend in the entire galaxy.”
He repeated your name, and Poe smiled, pushing off the counter and extending a hand out to you.
“S’nice to meet you.”
You nodded, your cheeks suddenly feeling a touch warmer than they had been before as you took his hand in yours, shaking it firmly. “You too.”
He smiled again, nodding his head, holding onto you for just a second longer than what would be considered customary before letting go. He stayed next to you though, folding his arms across his chest as he glanced towards Finn again.
“Now, why are we taking shots?”
“Because she’s,” Finn said, pointing a finger towards you, “applying for the open bartender position.”
Poe raised an eyebrow, turning his attention towards you. “Is that right?”
Your blush only intensified as you noticed those big brown eyes of his flutter quickly over your body, just once, for just a split second. You nodded.
“Have you ever bartended before?”
“Not really,” you admitted, just a hint of a nervous edge in your voice.
Poe shrugged. “Fast learner?”
You nodded again, and Finn spoke before you had a chance to.
“And she apparently already knows more than I freakin’ do. Chocolate cake shots, what the hell?”
“Trust me,” you said, a small chuckle following.
Poe smirked again. “It tastes exactly how it sounds.”
Finn shook his head, adding the sugared lemons to the finished drinks before passing them out.
“You gotta hold the lemon juice in your mouth while you take the shot though,” you added, already taking the wedge off the rim.
Poe nodded, following your actions. “If you don’t, you’ll ruin it.”
You and Poe took your shots first, Finn watching before throwing back his own, his eyes widening in surprise as the liquid ran down his throat.
“Holy shit, you weren’t lying.”
“Have I ever led you wrong?” you laughed, wiping at a stray drop of vodka and Frangelico that ran down your chin.
You could feel Poe staring at you as you did so, and you chose to ignore it, and this time, you attributed the blush on your cheeks to the alcohol slowly moving through your veins.
You reached for Poe’s glass, grabbing Finn’s as well before moving to clean them, just as an excuse to put a little distance between you and Poe. You heard the two of them quietly talking, about what, you didn’t know, couldn’t hear over the running water, and only when the glasses were clean and back in their place did you tune back in.
“Where’s Bee?”
Poe shrugged. “She’s around here somewhere.”
“Who’s Bee?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, looking between the two men in front of you.
“His lady,” Finn chuckled, his answer earning him a sharp jab to the ribs and a small snort from Poe.
Oh, so he was taken?
Figures. A man so beautiful certainly had a woman just as gorgeous on his arm.
Before you had a chance to say anything further, Poe whistled, the sound loud and echoing off the walls, and you jumped for the second time that night. Just ten seconds later, the clattering of nails across hardwood could be heard throughout the restaurant, and a big, white German Shepherd came bounding around the corner of the bar, practically jumping into her owner’s arms.
“Oh hello there sweet girl, were you taking a nap downstairs again?” Poe cooed, scratching the large dog behind her ears.
Bee whined affectionately, her tail wagging erratically. You flushed, laughing at yourself just a little bit for how your mood had taken a hit at the idea of him being taken. You had known him for less than ten minutes.
You watched the two interact for a few seconds, your arms folded loosely over your chest.
“You can pet her if you’d like.”
“Oh how could I ever turn down such an offer?”
You immediately knelt onto the ground, ready and eager to be attacked by the big floof of white fur, but Bee didn’t turn her attention away from her owner, causing you to over exaggerate a pout and Poe to laugh.
“Bee, you’re not working right now sweetheart.”
You looked up at him, tilting your head to the side just a fraction. “Working?”
“Service dog,” Poe shrugged, a mannerism you were quickly learning was signature. “Even when she’s not wearing her vest she likes to think she’s on call.”
You stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, knowing not to pry but also not knowing exactly how to respond.
“She seems to be good at her job,” you settled on finally.
Poe chuckled quietly, nodding his head, not offering up an explanation himself, but that was to be expected. You were still mere strangers.
“Go say hi.”
Bee nuzzled her nose into Poe’s chest before dropping back down onto all fours, finally turning her attention to you. She ignored your outstretched hand, immediately going for your face, licking your cheek and pawing at your thighs. You giggled, stroking the dog down her back, scratching every now and again.
“I think I might steal her,” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows as you glanced up.
Poe only laughed, and you spent several minutes merely petting and playing with Bee behind the bar, giving Poe the opportunity to sneak back upstairs and grab her vest — an orange one with the words “service dog” printed onto the side.
“What’s your schedule like next week?” he asked, giving a short whistle after that immediately made Bee pull away from you, sitting patiently as she waited for her owner to slip her vest on.
You shrugged. “I work in the mornings but otherwise I’m free.”
“Ew, mornings,” Poe mumbled, scrunching up his nose before shaking his head. “Think you can come by Monday night so Finn can start training you?”
Finn let out an excited yelp, and you could only blink.
“Wait, like, train as in...I have the job? Just like that?”
“If you don’t burn the place down Monday night and you enjoy yourself, then yeah,” Poe chuckled. “It’s yours.”
You bit your lip, and you wouldn’t have been able to hide your smile regardless of how hard you tried.
“I’m down, Dameron.”
He smiled right back, holding out his hand for you to shake while also simultaneously pulling you off the floor, and you would’ve crashed into your chest had you not braced yourself against the counter with your free hand.
“Welcome aboard.”
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Okay, you know earlier this week when I dropped a paragraph of a fic? I actually finished it, and the end isn’t the best so I’m posting it here and not on AO3.
Loneliness - (featuring my HoH Percy and Clarisse head cannons)
TW for attempted self harm and a generally bad mental space
Percy’s never really had a mentor. When he was young he was put in a few organizations as a mentee. The type of organizations that are supposed to make things easier on kids like him, brown and black kids with “authority problems”. They never really clicked though, sometimes it was him, a lot of the time it was the supposed mentor. He had never cared much, it’s not like they could help him in a way that mattered.
Then there was Luke. Luke who was tall and strong and quick and really, really, really good with a sword. Maybe some of it was a crush, but he had never met someone who he was so encapsulated by. Luke was cool, intelligent, and good looking. He was everything Percy ever wanted and ever wanted to be.
Luke left a bitter taste in Percy’s mouth and a scar on his hand and a distaste for soda. Luke left Percy with an even quicker brain and a knot in his stomach that turned into a murder plot for his stepfather. He drew Percy in time and time again with a hatred that was laced with unrequited love and left Annabeth with blood stains on her dagger and both of them with salt stains on their cheeks and the taste of ash on their tongues.
After Luke was Beckendorf. Granted Percy had had a bit of a crush on him too. Beckendorf was pure, not in the way some white campers might call Hazel innocent. He was just kind, and genuine, and warm. Percy looked up at Beckendorf, big, strong, brave, caring, and he thought this, this is something I could do. I might not be able to be a big hero, but I can do this. I want this.
Beckendorf left Percy with no body for the shroud to cover. He left Percy with inside jokes that would never again be completed and a desire in his brain to constantly be in the forges and to keep as far away from them as possible. Beckendorf left a hole in Percy’s heart that was filled by blood and guilt. Percy looks at the acid scars on his foot with a longing for the time when Beckendorf was taken by giant ants.
And after Beckendorf there was no one. Suddenly Percy was one of the oldest campers. A war veteran. Supposedly the strongest demigod alive. He wasn’t just a counselor now, of his cabin that was solely him, he was a senior counselor. Jake Mason sat in Beck’s seat and Percy cried because suddenly he was alone.
He shouldn’t feel alone. When Annabeth holds his hand while they wait for breakfast he shouldn’t feel alone. When Grover makes enchiladas in the kitchen of the Big House and they eat them together in a field Percy shouldn’t feel alone. When Nico comes running into Percy’s cabin telling Percy that Mythomagic is apparently run by demigods and that they made a card of Nico he shouldn’t feel alone.
It only gets worse when he’s back at home. His mom goes through their normal post-quest routine. She gives him time and space and love. She takes him to the doctor’s. His old prescriptions get refilled, adderall, meperidine. Sally tries again to find a demigod therapist, to no avail. They don’t celebrate his birthday this year.
He’s at Goode without Rachel and he has no other friends. He’s never really been good at that, the whole friend thing, and now it’s practically impossible finding someone who isn’t uneasy around him. He sits in the back of his physics class and eats alone at lunch and sleeps in Paul’s office during breaks.
A teacher hands him back an essay and there’s a paperclip in the corner keeping all the pages together. There is a B+ on it with a smiley face, and Percy takes the paper clip and sharpens it and tries to scratch his skin. It doesn’t do anything. His skin still won’t break, there is just a faint redness. Only after scratching away mindlessly for weeks does he realize that he’s writing words. Last words. “Go!” “Don’t let it happen again.” “Tell him I’m sorry.”
He can fill up his schedule with school and homework and swim and skating and basketball. He can wake up in the morning and eat breakfast and take adderall and carry around the other small orange bottle waiting for his skin to revolt against him. He feels disgusting and empty. Like a demon in a suit of skin that used to be Percy. He misses two years ago when the war wasn’t looming over head, when he and Annabeth and Silena and Beck would all hang out, when he and Clarisse had weekly midnight basketball games.
Grover knows. Grover’s gotta know. For one thing, there’s the empathy link. And Grover is calling multiple times a week, and he always asks how Percy is, if he’s alright. Percy lies “I’m all good man, don’t worry. How’s work?” Then Grover goes off on a tangent about pollution or some shit he saw a human do and the way he purses his lips when he’s worried doesn’t come back until they’re hanging up.
He hates it, the lying. He’s only told lies to protect others, when he doesn’t have enough information yet, when he needs to save them. Now he is lying for himself. How fucking selfish does he have to be? But he’s so lonely, and he can’t bare to lose anyone else. It feels like the smallest step out of line will make his world crumble.
So he lies. He lies his ass off, and he doesn’t know if he’s good at it, but he could be. When Annabeth comes over one weekend, all the way from California, and she asks about the pill bottle rattling in his pocket he says that it’s adderall and she turns back to the tv. When his mom asks if he’s made new friends he says yes, and proceeds to tell a mortal version of something that he and Beck did last year.
One day Rachel comes into the city to visit her parents. They’re sitting on a bench in Central Park and he takes the paperclip out of his coat pocket and goes to work on his wrist while they talk. It’s habit by now. Rachel stops in the middle of her sentence and gently pries the paperclip from his hands and in its place she leaves a blue eyeliner pencil.
Soon his arms are covered in names and words and horrifically beautiful drawings. Blue pigment against brown skin and pink scars, all swirling together. The pencil runs out quickly, but a week later, just as he’s about to take the paperclip back out, an envelope arrives. Sitting in the bottom is a new pencil of blue eyeliner. Percy throws the paperclip in the trash.
By Thanksgiving break Percy isn’t feeling good exactly, he’s feeling mildly better. Loneliness still hits him, in pangs. He’ll be walking to lunch and he’ll have to jump in the canoe lake because he can’t handle it, and swimming is a good excuse for missing a meal.
He wakes up early in the morning and sits in Rachel’s cave waiting for her to wake up. She makes hot chocolate and points out drawings she particularly likes, and then he’ll wash his arms off ready to begin again.
Days are filled with meetings. Meetings with Chiron and meetings with other counselors, trying to make up for being away at school. When he’s not in meetings he trains. Sometimes himself, but a lot of newer or younger campers. The disarming technique he teaches throws him back to Luke and he gives the campers a five minute break hoping the feeling leaves.
Evenings are being tossed between one person and another. Racing up the climbing wall with Annabeth and laughing at the top and sitting there for way too long. Stopping by the Aphrodite cabin where Drew will catch him up on everything he’s missed being away or being busy. He sits on the floor of the Hades cabin trying for the fifth time to understand Mythomagic.
Every night since he’s gotten back Clarisse raps on his door at two in the morning and they play one v. one on the basketball court until they end up on their backs under the stars. There’s rarely any talking. It’s dark outside and Clarisse has left her hearing aids in her cabin and he’s left his back in Manhattan. Not like he ever uses them in public.
He’s still lonely.
Maybe Clarisse can read his mind because she taps his leg and they sit up facing each other. He can just barely see her fingers in the moonlight.
“Sometimes people can be lonely not because they are alone but because they miss someone. You have a lot of people to miss.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” He signs back.
“Oh be quiet punk.”
They both break into laughter then, before she continues.
“Miss them. As much as you fucking want. I was in love with Silena, and she died, and Drew is a bitch about it, but she has a right to be.”
Percy is struck again by how similar he and Clarisse are, their lives and their feelings and their actions. The only difference is that Clarisse grants herself the freedom to do what she wants, and he’s scared to death of doing that himself.
“But, and do not ever tell anybody I told you this, a lot of people would miss you. You can pull away and feel lonely but you can’t disappear. Annabeth needs you, Rachel needs you, Nico and Will and Drew need you. And gods fucking dammit, I need you.”
Clarisse stands and pulls him up behind her. They part ways, heading back to their cabins. Percy mulls her words over in his head as he finally drifts into sleep, his body completely and utterly exhausted. Suddenly there is a blue-gold light, and he remembers Annabeth, and then everything is dark and there’s the smell of pine.
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94 for sternclay for the winter prompts??? Especially if trans stern because I love that for him:’) either nsfw or sfw, hope you have a wonderful day!!!!! Your writing is a gift
Thank you so much! I went with NSFW, and Stern is indeed trans.
94. you overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we’ve never spoken before
The things he does to pay for culinary school.
It’s not the catering gig that’s bothering him; he takes pride in making food at conferences and office parties better than expected. It’s the fucking red, white, and green uniforms they’re making them wear for this one. It’s hot, itchy, and he really would prefer to wear the winter sweater Thacker gave him last year. It’s rustic but festive. It’s also sitting in his car, because no one told him about these uniforms until he got here.
You can’t spring a surprise uniform on a guy who’s 6’4 and 190 pounds. The vest digs into his stomach, the jacket is too tight, and the pants don’t cover his ankles.
It’s too bad, this party is pretty fun to work. It’s for a big-name publisher looking to seem hip, so the band is good and the decorations don’t look like the Macy’s Parade puked all over the room.
The meals aren’t sit down, more a five hour cocktail party with canapes on trays and a spread of food at the back. Barclay sets out a new plate of crostini, wondering if they have enough fruit for the evening, when someone taps his shoulder.
“How can I help-”
“I need a refill.” James, his ex, smirks at him.
“Not the bartender.” Barclay picks up the empty tray.
“So?”
“I stopped being the guy to refill your drinks when you dumped me. Go ask whatever poor sap you dragged to this to do it for you.”
“Poor sap? Barclay, you sound like one of those boring mysteries you always read.”
“I’m trying not to swear, I’m at work.”
“Too bad you left me-”
“You broke up with me”
“-You could be enjoying the party instead of serving lukewarm food in a ridiculous outfit. Then again, looking like a clown suits you.”
“Man, c’mon.” Barclay can’t get into it here, James is absolutely the kind of guy who will use it to get him fired.
“Not surprised you haven’t found someone who wants to put up with your whole puppy-dog routine. What good is all that bulk if you’re just a pus-”
“There you are.” An arm snakes around Barclays waist and he freezes. James stands up straight, plastering on a smile.
“I wish I’d know ahead of time this is where you were working tonight. It feels wrong to be out mingling when you’re stuck back here. Oh well, next year.” A soft kiss lands on his cheek and in his surprise he turns to look at it’s source.
The man is almost his height, trimmer and dressed in a black suit with a blue and silver tie. He’s blue eyed, with jet black hair slicked back and a face that puts every movie star Barclay can name to shame.
Barclay has no fucking clue who he is, or if he’s mistaking Barclay for someone else. He doesn’t seem drunk enough for that.
“Mr. Stern, it’s an honor to meet you, I, uh, this-”
“This must be the ex you told me about, right, big guy?” Mr. Stern sets a protective hand at the small of his back.
“Uh, yeah. Babe, this is James.”
“So, where at Penguin do you work?”
“I, um, oh, look, someone is calling me. Bye, Barclay, nice seeing you again.”
The hand doesn't leave his back until James is out of sight.
“I’m sorry. He was harassing you and that seemed like the fastest way to make him stop.” Mr. Stern is still standing proud, but his voice is now softer, almost shy.
“That’s, uh, that’s totally fine. I really appreciate the help. Kinda surprise you saw flirting as more appealing than, like, pretending to be my boss or something.”
“He’d know I wasn’t, trust me. And don’t sell yourself short, Barclay.” Blue eyes lock onto him and scan all the way to his feet, “even a bad fitting uniform can’t hide what you have you offer.”
“Th-thanks.” He’s either going to hide behind the serving tray or ask this guy to take him home and he’s not sure which will reinforce Jame’s “puppy dog” taunt more.
The other man, sensing his discomfort, steps back, “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I know better than to flirt with someone who’s at work and can’t escape. I shouldn’t keep you from doing what you need to do.”
“I get off at nine.” He thwacks the tray over his mouth, “ow. Uh, and I don’t mind talking to you. If you want to. I, uh, I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend this whole party chatting with the help instead of having fun.”
A sigh, “I should go mingle. It’s really okay if I come back?”
“Yeah.” Barclay smiles. There’s no way this guy is coming back; if he’s here single, he’ll have a date in the next five minutes.
Fifteen minutes later, he’s standing a respectful distance away and asking Barclay how this compares to other parties he’s worked.
“Middle-ground. It’s not the one time I got to work my friends art gallery opening, and it’s not the wedding where someone tried to deck the bride with the chocolate fountain.”
“Oh my lord.”
“I was in the line of fire and was washing chocolate out of my beard for an hour.”
“No one at home to do it for you?” It’s not subtle, and nor is the glance he gets over the rim of a cocktail glass.
“Some things I’d rather not ask Mama’s help on.”
“You still live with family?” There’s no judgement in that smooth voice, just genuine curiosity.
“Oh, no, Mama’s my...I mean she’s technically my boss but she’s also my friend, almost like an older sister. I live above where I work because she owns the whole building and takes in staff rent-free when she can. It’s nice working at her place, since I can cut my hours doing this.” He gestures to the nearby table of season fare, “which does mean I missed the attempted kabob-maiming last week. Relatedly, I’m happy this isn’t an all you can drink party.”
“You and me both. Two years ago Dean Koontz threw a punch. I think it was--oh, um, excuse me, work calls.”
This time, Barclay allows himself a moment of ogling as Stern walks away.
They pick up where they left off when the other man comes back, leading Barclay to mention he’s a cook at Amnesty Lodge .
“Wait, really? I love the Lodge, the food there is incredible.”
Barclay’s skin matches his terrible red pants, “Thanks. The head chef has been letting me do more of the menu and I’m really proud of it.”
“You should be. It’s perfect, although it’s a pity you being in the kitchen means I haven’t seen you sooner.”
He tries to say thank you again, but it comes out a garbled squeak
“Was that too far?”
“Nope. Uh, it’s uh, just that I’m out of practice flirting or, like, getting compliments. They were pretty thin on the ground in my last relationship.”
“I see.” He’s learning to watch Stern’s eyes rather than the rest of his face, which hardly ever changes from it’s calm, professional set. Said eyes drip with disapproval.
Old habits of defending people--even ones who are dicks to him--kicks in, “I mean, he kind of has a point. No one wants to date a six foot puppy. Guys like me are supposed to be all in-charge and shit like that.”
Stern raises an eyebrow, “maybe you’re looking in the wrong places.”
“Got any ideas on where I, uh, should be looking?” He takes a half-step towards Stern, standing up straighter. Stern doesn’t move an inch, but gives him a proud smirk. The pride is directed at Barclay.
“Lots. And I’ll share them as soon as you’re off the clock.”
“Don’t I even get a hint?” Another step.
“No, Barclay, you don’t. You’ll just have to show me you can be patient.” His tone changes, laced with the promise of a hidden prize that Barclay will do anything to earn.
He just manages to whisper out “okay” as Stern is called away again. When he comes back, Barclay setting out clean plates and more silverware. They talk about restaurants, about Barclay’s friends and all the ways he tries to help them. Barclay endeavors to not go into full begging mode in public by looking at Sterns wrists rather than literally anywhere else on his body.
“What are those things in your cufflinks?”
“The Hodag. It’s a cryptid from Northern Wisconsin, and a really excellent example of completely fabricated cryptid that nevertheless goes on to have a life of it’s own. It’s very common in small towns, since if it goes well it acts a tourist draw. In fact, there’s some indication that even the Loch Ness Monster began as just such a hoax and-” He snaps his mouth shut, clears his throat, “sorry, I try not to talk shop at these things. It, um, tends to get on people’s nerves.”
“But I wanted to hear the rest. I mean, I have a high info-dumping tolerance because of one of my friends, but also you clearly know your stuff and I have no clue about any of it so please keep talking?”
Stern’s face is full of excitement, and he grows more animated as he talks. It’s the cutest goddamn thing Barclay’s ever seen, and he saw Dr. Harris Bonkers, his friend’s rabbit, as a baby bunny in a bow-tie.
He clocks out two minutes after nine, and Stern is waiting for him near the doors to the staging room.
“Are those the only clothes you have with you?”
“No. I have nicer stuff in the car that I planned on wearing.”
“Go get it. Here, I’ll walk down with you so you won’t have trouble getting back in the building.”
After jogging to his car while Stern waits for him in the gold and silver tinseled lobby, the older man guides him to an elevator. He’s pretty sure Stern is older than him; he’s a big deal, but not in some sort of prodigy way, which means he needed some time to get so well-known.
They’re so busy coming up with Cryptid-themed ice cream flavors that Barclay doesn’t notice the floor number until they step out into a darkened hall.
If Stern brought him up here so they could have a quick fuck, he’ll jump for joy.
“My office is this way. I figure you might like changing not in front of your co-workers or in a bathroom.”
Damn it, why does he have to be considerate instead of horny?
The office Stern brings him to is modestly sized with a huge bank of windows on the one side, facing out over the city. From here he can see apartments, stores, restaurants, all lit up in festive colors, trees dotting the little boxes of light.
Stern locks the door, leans back against it, and nods at the clothes in Barclays arms, “Put them on.”
“Here?” He eyes the wide windows, the fact that the other man makes no move to leave or turn around.
“Yes.”
He manages, around the heart trying to hammer up his throat, “Are, uh, are you gonna watch?”
“Do you want me too?” There it is, the immediate softness in his voice, and Barclay understands that if he says no, he’ll have his privacy.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He reaches for the vest, gets the first button and goes for the second in a hurry.
Stern raises his hand in a ‘pause’ gesture, “Slow down.”
“Yes, yes Mr. Stern.”
A gentle laugh, “Not quite, big guy. Were we anywhere else, I’d tell you to call me Joseph. But here..” he tucks his hands casually into his front pockets, “here you call me sir.”
“Fuck” Barclay battles himself to keep his pace slow, needing to be good but also so turned on he’s afraid he’ll start humping the furniture. He forces himself to wait a count of two between each button, gets his vest and shirt off without further instruction. Stern watches him the entire time in silent appreciation. His shoes and pants are more awkward to take off while standing, and he braces himself on the desk, not wanting to sit without permission.
Then he’s standing there in nothing but his black boxers and the lights of town, laughter floating from the party while Stern studies him like a menu.
“Fold every and set it on the chair.”
He follows orders, boggles at getting hard from someone telling him to fold laundry. Jesus, Stern hasn’t even touched him. Is he even planning to? Barclay can’t decide which option he likes better. He returns to his spot in front of the desk, hands folded in front of him.
“Should I, uh, get dressed, sir?”
Stern pushes off the door, walking casually over like a shopper regarding a display, “That depends; do you want to do back to the party with your cock hard enough to hammer nails?” He glances down, then back up with a pointed stare.
“N-not really.”
Stern raises an eyebrow.
“Not really, sir.”
“Then we’ll have to do something about it.”
“Are you sure we should do it here?”
“Barclay, if we get caught, I’ll be twice as mortified as you. I’m only doing this because we’ve got this whole floor to ourselves.” He cups Barclay’s cheek and the sighs, rubbing his face against a warm palm.
“Okay sir, I trust you.”
A moan curls up between them as Stern’s other hand runs along his chest.
“Good boy. You like to be good, don’t you, Barclay? You like taking care of people?”
“Yes, so much sir, please, lemme be good to you.”
Joseph strokes his face, “That’s very thoughtful, Barclay. But I think it’s been awhile since someone took care of you. Would you like me to do that?”
“Please, sir.” The response is pulled from him, one of the many parts of him aching magnetically to be near to Stern.
The other man shoves his right hand down Barclays boxers, sliding his thumb over the head once before stroking steadily up and down.
“Holy fuck” Stern gasps, “a guy could have a lot of fun with this thing.”
“It’s all yours, sir.”
Fuck, where did that come from?
Stern groans, tips his head to kiss across Barclays chest, murmuring as he does, “Is that what you want, Barclay? You want this” he speeds up until Barclay’s hands fly to the edge of the desk, keeping him from dropping to the floor, “to be mine?”
He whines, nodding.
Stern’s hand stops.
“Yessir”
It starts up again, “what else do you want, big guy?” He’s still kissing all over his upper body, tone nonchalant.
“You, sir, I wanna fuck you or, or you can fuUUUck me if you want, not very good at bottoming-”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Stern lightly pinches his nipple, “what else?”
“I want to blow you, and, and FUCK, I bet you’re a fucking great kisser and I want you to fucking boss me around as much as you want, wanna wear a collar, a blue one, ohfuck” Barclay scrapes his nails along the woodgrain, “fuck, sorry, that was weird-”
“No, say more” his grip tightens and to Barclay’s surprise he’s panting, “tell me everything you want, even it’s got nothing to do with sex.”
“I want, fuck, to be tied up and told how good I am, want to wear something stealth sexy out in public, want to fuck in a cabin” his mouth is fully ahead of his mind, which is concentrated entirely in his dick right now, “want to eat at every five star place in the city, want to drag you places by that fancy tie, have a new car, buy any cookbook I see, I want, oh fuckohfuck, sir, I wanna cum please, want to so bad.”
“You can cum whenever you like, big guy. But you have to kiss me while you d-”
He cuts Stern off with a kiss, clinging to his shoulders and pouring desperate, deep sounds down his throat. Stern kisses back with precision and a pleased moan when Barclay cums in his boxers.
Stern eases his hand out and Barclay flops against him, face buried in his neck as he rumbles out a thank you.
“D-do you want me to blow you, sir?”
Stern kisses below his ear, “Yes, but that’s not doable right now. Unlike you, I don't have a change of clothes, and something tells me you’re a, um,” he bites Barclays ear, “messy eater.”
“Only when I’m enjoying myself, sir.”
“You don’t have to keep calling me that, unless it helps you come down.”
“I’m okay, Joseph. Heh” he smiles, inhales a minty cologne, “I like that name. It’s classic.”
“Thanks, I picked it myself.”
Barclay chuckles, snuggles closer while ignoring the sticky underwear.
“You know, I can give you everything you want. If you want me to.”
“Some of those are really fucking expensive, babe.”
“You really have no clue who I am, do you?” Stern steps back, moving to the other side of the desk and pulling out a packet of wet-wipes, sliding one across to Barclay before cleaning his hands.
“A really cute guy who should let me take him to dinner?” Barclay pulls down his underwear to clean the cum from his stomach.
“Ever heard of Lucky Park?”
“No fucking way. I man, I know it’s a pen name, but there’s no fucking way, a guy who’s never off the NYT Bestseller list wouldn't fuck a nobody cook.”
“If the cook was hot and interesting to talk to he would. The kitchen skills help a little.” Stern winks
“But you wrote The Peregrine Quintent, and Red Dust, jesus christ your stuff has been movies.”
“Now you see why James was so startled; I’m Penguins golden goose. That’s why I even have time to write books on cryptids; they know to indulge me. Plus I put out at least a book every two years for them and it always makes a fortune. Do you need to sit down? You look kind of lightheaded.”
“I’m fine, uh, just trying to make sense of it all. Also I can’t sit down unless you want my bare ass on your chair.”
“Another time. I guess you’re going commando for the rest of the party, but I think you can handle it, big guy.”
“Yeah, absolutely.” He grabs his pants and pulls them on, “holy fuck, this can’t be real, it doesn’t make sense.”
“Barclay” Stern touches his arm, “it absolutely makes sense. I had so much fun talking with you, you’re such a, um, a sweetheart. And you’re built like a wet dream. If, um, if this is too much too soon, tell me to back off but I, I’m serious. I can’t remember the last time I got butterflies like this around someone, or wanted to buy things or do things just to make them smile. You clearly look after so many people in your life; will you let me look after you, at least for a little while?”
“You really want to?”
“Unlike some people, I like big men with a gentle center. You can be my six foot puppy any time. Wait, hold on, that, um, that came out weird.” Stern giggles and Barclay, now dressed, pulls him into a kiss.
“I get it, babe. You wanna go show me off?”
“Of course. I’ll get my camera ready; we have to record your exes reaction.” Stern kisses his cheek, “after all, maybe this will teach him to know a good man when he sees one.”
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Face reveal bc yes
So, guys...especially from the Renegades fandom bc i’m the most active there: you saw the title lmao. This will...barely get notes (i wonder if it’ll get notes at all) buuUUUT YEAH LET’S GOOOO (If you’re gonna reblog pls be respectful bc i have issues and btw reblog ONLY if we are mutuals)
THIS IS ME! <3 HELLOOOO!!!
Now, if you want to stop here, do it. If you don’t...well
I’m going to tell you a story about myself and why I decided to post this.
First of all, I’m not celebrating anything. I’m just celebrating me, I guess (?) and in fact I’ve been wanting to do this since my parents got me a She-Ra cake for my 20th birthday back in May, because I loved that thing and felt the physical need to shove that thing into everyone’s faces But I didn’t because I didn’t feel ready enough...then that thought left my mind, and it came back like two weeks ago.
I’ve had mental issues since I was in like...elementary school. I’m sure I had felt depressed before I turned 12; however, the first memory I hold of feeling so, it’s when I was already 12. Because it was then when I realized that I wasn’t just a dumb kid who didn’t know how to make friends xd To this day, I genuinely feel like I was suffering from isolation bullying; you know xd my classmates purposely excluded me from activities, they would find any excuse for not letting me join their work teams and stuff like that; during my last year at elementary school, I only had like one friend, and that one friend and I shared a sort of abusive/toxic relationship, as in: manipulation, “we’re best friends. you should only talk to ME”, and then this friend turned her back at me too, because she decided to join the rest of the group and ignore me.
lol.
And I remember wondering what was I doing wrong. Like, why didn’t people like me; why didn’t they want to hang out with me; why did everyone seem to have friends except me. And then I got trapped into a very...dark place, and I remember being overthinking one day, because I tend to overthink a lot...and I remembered this specific kid who was in the same class as me.
I was in the line for the teacher to check my homework, and this kid, a boy, was behind me.
You see. I’ve always been chubby xd I don’t think I’ve ever been skinny since I was 2 years old or so, because by the time I was in kindergarten my classmates’ moms were already calling me a ‘little meatball’ thinking it was a fucking adorable nickname because Mexican moms can be pretty shitty sometimes don’t let the media stereotypes fool you not all of them are all cheerful and upbeat and when I was in elementary school, for some reason, besides being chubby, I had a really bad posture. And this boy who was behind me started imitating my way of walking and his friends were laughing, so I turned around and asked him wtf his problem was xd and he turned around to his friends and asked “Do you see how hunchback she is?” like I wasn’t even there xd and I genuinely tried to slap him but I couldn’t, and he said “Yo, stop moving because you’re going to cause an earthquake”
And my mom has always felt personally attacked for the fact I’m...u know, fat. She has always been very insistent on the fact I need to lose weight and stuff like that. And her, mixed with my experiences at school, made me feel like I wasn’t enough.
But my mind started saying things like “And u know why you aren’t enough? Because you’re fat”
Because, like, the day of the hunchback insult, when I told the teacher, who was a very shitty teacher btw but i’m not talking about her again today (i’ve already talked about her in MANY of my university papers, because I’m studying to be an English teacher), she turned around at him and said “Don’t listen to HER” and to this day I still don’t know why xd
But it made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Because I was fat.
Lol x2.
To this day, I still don’t know if I have an ED. Like, I genuinely don’t know. But I can safely say that, if I have one, it’s more likely BED... because, through the years, I managed to lose weight when I turned like 15 and I had my quinceañera party, but then first year of high school came and I had a relapse into depression...like, this might come off as a very unpopular opinion, but junior high school was dope for me x’d I remember it as one of the best years in my life, right after my second and third year in high school (high school in Mexico lasts only three years) and so...when I started my first year in high school and got fucking depressed again, I gained ALL that weight back, and even doubled it. During my second year of high school, I met my friends. The friends I still keep with me to this day. And they accepted me like the fucking train wreck I was, failing math like three times in a row and crying about it every single one of those times because I’m pretty sure I have dyscalculia but my parents won’t listen to me they think i’m just lazy when it comes to math even though they know i cant even read a fucking clock . And them, along with my another very close friend who I met via fanfction when I was 12, helped me go through it. Like, I did have some issues with my body during high school, but not as much as you would expect. They were getting pretty bad in my first and second semester, but during the other four my friends managed to stop me from losing my mind, even when it all went to shit in my third year again for different reasons.
Then I graduated from high school, and I made friends there too. Although my best friends are still my friend from fanfiction, my friends from high school and just one of my university friends. And you know...I was left...pretty scarred from the shit that happened during third year of high school, and even if I didn’t feel like I was *that* depressed, I did gain a lot of weight.
Like, the highest I’ve ever been. Then my dad got sick during October from last year, then my two doggies were murdered god i fucking hate my neighbors the same day my dad was released from the hospital and my mom went kinda nuts during December and I wanted to just...yeah.
So I did a lot of emotional eating. Like, y’all don’t understand.
It was like...I would go to uni and eat a brownie. Then chocolates on my way home. THEN a “a snack” like...fucking rice krispies. Then a huge ass meal, with soda bc why not. Then I would have either cookies or hot cheetos as a treat after my huge ass meal,
I’m a short person xd carrying that much weight was making my ribs and back hurt, as well as my legs and feet; my breathing was freaking awful, and there were some days were I got SO paranoid I just said things like “i’m gonna die today” or “out here trying to get diabetes like the rest of your family, aren’t you??” :’) but i didn’t tell anybody. My parents are not really an option in this case, BUT I didn’t tell my friends, because then I would have to explain that I ate a lot and that was something I was EXTREMELY ashamed of.
When February came, I was scared of going out, because I knew I would have to choose what clothes to wear and nothing fit me anymore and, the things that did, looked super stretched on me and, u know, I was sore. My health was getting bad. But I didn’t like to feel that way.
AND I MUST CLARIFY HERE. I’M WORKING ON THAT. I’M ACTUALLY A BODY POSITIVY DEFENDER, I JUST DIDN’T LIKE HOW *I* LOOKED AND, BESIDES, I WAS GETTING SICK. I GENUINELY THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE AT SOME POINT. I’M NOT SAYING BEING FAT OR CHUBBY IS DISGUSTING. NO. I BELIEVE ALL HUMAN BEINGS ARE EXTREMELY BEAUTIFUL. AND IF I’M WRITING THIS IS BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO KNOW RECOVERY IS DISGUSTING AND DIFFICULT SOMETIMES AND THAT IF YOU’RE GOING THROUGH SOMETHING LIKE THAT: I’M SORRY. NOBODY SHOULD EVER FEEL LIKE THAT. I SUPPORT YOU. AND I HOPE THINGS GET BETTER. AND NO MATTER WHAT OTHERS SAY, YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL. YOU ARE TO CHANGE ONLY IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE. BECAUSE IT’S YOUR BODY. KEEP HOLDING ON.
But going back to the story...
My friends used to tell me I looked pretty all the time, which I appreciate a lot to this day. But my parents were like
Me: I’m fat and I look deformed.
Them: I agree.
Because yeah.
Just before the pandemic madness happened, I went on a school trip with my uni friends and one of them triggered my isolation trauma in the worst way possible...and that, somehow, ruined ALL the photos I took throughout the trip. Because I wasn’t enough. Because I was deformed and fat and I looked like an apple. Because nobody wanted to be seen near me. And my personality was shitty.
Like, I should’ve known I was worth it. I’m still worth it and I know that. But I wasn’t less worth it when I was chubbier. And maybe I didn’t look as bad as my head made me believe. But at the time my mental health was extremely awful.
Now, covid happened.
Not gonna lie. Quarantine fucked me up as much as it fucked everyone else, but for me...by not going out, I stopped being near trigger foods, and I was even able to consult a dietitian.
I’ve lost 15 kg since March. And I’ve managed to love my past self, but I love this one because changing it was my decision. Sure, my parents didn’t help a lot, but in the end it was MY decision. I’ve come to accept I was worth it even when I felt disgusted by myself, and all of those awful things people said or did to me, like my friend during that trip...
I didn’t deserve any of those things. Because NO ONE deserves to be treated that way. No one deserves somebody else making fun of them. No one deserves somebody else doing awful things to them that they know damn well that they trigger their childhood trauma. No one deserves to be judged for the way they look.
I was in a very dark place, and sometimes I’m still inside there. And like...during all those times, I kept posting in here.
I remember being next to my dad in the hospital, telling him “Guess what? Supernova drops this week” or “We’re going to watch TDP together, right?” or “Let me talk to you about She-Ra...” ....those were things that like...saved my life for a while, though mostly Supernova. Because, actually, Marissa Meyer has helped me in my fucking darkest years x’d from my third year of high school until now.
Her books didn’t take my depression away, but they did make things a little lighter for me, even when I felt like dying.
And I know this fandom is like..full of minors, so...I don’t know if any of you need to hear this: But you’re worth it.
If you want to change anything in your body, do it because YOU want to.
Because YOU’LL like you better.
Because it’s YOUR body, and it’s the only part of yourself that you and other people can touch.
Nobody should ever tell you you’re worthless because of your weight and your physical appearance. And if they ever do, then they’re the ones who should apologize, not you.
Nobody has the right to mistreat you, abuse you, or use your own body against you.
As for me...my ribs don’t hurt anymore. Nor does my back or my feet, and my breathing is getting better; I took the conscious decision to lose weight but, like I said, now that I’m not in such a dark place, I’m staring to realize that the past me wasn’t as hideous as my mind was making me believe. She was okay; she was broken inside, but she didn’t deserve anything that happened to her, nor did she deserved to treat herself that badly.
I posted my photo just to celebrate that I can finally said I’m not disgusted anymore. I can finally see myself in pictures again. And see my own reflection. Or go through my closet. Or do my makeup, because I LOVE doing my makeup and I was even ashamed of that. I’m not fully okay yet, but I’m healing.
So, if there’s any little Dawnie around here: I hope you give yourself a chance and realize you’re beautiful.
I hope that, if you change, it’s because you wanted to do it.
I hope you know that it’ll get better even if the healing process it’s not that easy.
I hope you know there’s people who love you.
I hope you know that you are beautiful. You were always beautiful and, no matter what path you choose, you’ll always be beautiful.
And worth it.
And human.
And important.
Take care of yourself, because you’re wonderful, no matter your size <3
#personal#VERY PERSONAL LMAO DAWN WHAT HAPPENED THERE U OK?#tw: eating disorders mention#TRIGGER WARNING EATING DISORDER MENTIONS#tw: depression#TRIGGER WARNING DEPRESSION#face reveal#and im gonna tag this bc yes#renegades trilogy#marissa meyer#renegades#archenemies#supernova#also TW: BULLYING
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Survey #440
from a day or two ago.
Do you drink a lot of soda? I definitely do. :/ I'd lose weight so much easier if I could drop the habit. Are tomatoes the best food in the world? I don't like tomatoes unless they're very fresh and on a mayo and bacon sandwich. Have you seen The Blindside? I actually haven't. Do you have a favorite local pizza place? Not really. There's a place I like that isn't huge, but I don't have like, a serious passion for or loyalty to it. Would you date someone 10+ years older than you? Meh, I think ten years is my cut-off. Are you due for a haircut? For sure. >_< Are you dealing with any health-related problems right now? Yeah. Even with my APAP mask, because I apparently move it too much in my sleep, I'm struggling with my sleep apnea nightmares/terrors. Do your parents like the music you listen to? Most of it. Do your parents approve of your beliefs? Not all of them, no. How many different digital cameras have you owned in your life? How about cell phones? Cell phones, idk. I've had two "pro" cameras. Do you typically do your make up the same each time? Or do you like to change it up often? It's pretty much always the same. Who is the last person you were in a room with just the two of you? What were you doing? Mom. We worked together on my room. What do you usually order at Subway? Turkey, bacon, American cheese, pickles, banana peppers, and chipotle on I want to say Italian bread. How long is your mother’s hair? It's hard to say, because it's all poofy now versus wavy like before it had to be shaved off. Don't repeat it to her ever, but she has, uh... "old lady hair" now, ha ha. What is your favourite car brand? I don’t care. Whose chore is it to clean the bathrooms in your house? My mom does it. Pick your three favourite fruits. Strawberries, kiwi, and uhhh... apples. Or pineapple. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Yeah. We used to play that a lot at Colleen's house on nights we had some drinks. Who were the last friends you went to hang out with? Oh jeez, idk. I haven't hung out with a friend in a long time. How many chairs are in the room you’re currently in? Zero. I'm in my bedroom. Are you bored right now? I'm bored almost every waking hour of my days. Have you ever seen a pelican in real life? I'm actually not sure. What’s important about April? My younger sister's birthday is in April. Is there anyone who hates you? Jason probably does. Would you consider adoption? Not for me personally. What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet? Our late boxer mix. Do you own any kind of helmet? No. Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? Noooo. How do you usually celebrate your favorite holiday? My younger sister comes over here and we open our presents with Mom, who also cooks a nice breakfast. We then go to my older sister's house for the day to watch the kids open presents from their extended family. I say "extended" because the kids obviously aren't going to wait for us to get there to open the majority of their gifts from their parents, ha ha. What’s a few facts about the last person that talked to you? She's from New York, has five kids, has survived cancer (one almost advanced to a fatal level) twice, she loves owls, and recently graduated with her bachelor's in social work (it's never too late, people). What would happen if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both cisgender females. Where is the biggest scar on your body? It's probably where I had a cyst removal, which is in a spot I can't see. Would you date someone who was addicted to drugs? Absolutely not. I am NOT getting involved in that. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you? I'd go to the gym sooner. Have you ever kissed anyone with a tattoo? Hmmm... I think Tyler actually may have had a The Legend of Zelda tattoo? I can't really remember. If not him, then no. Have you ever kissed someone you weren’t dating? No, but I've been kissed by someone I wasn't dating. Do you know anyone who drinks a lot? Yes. What were you afraid of the most when you were a kid? Being separated from/losing my mom. Do you like to make the first move? No. When was the last time you completely broke down? A few weeks ago when I was having a PTSD episode. Are you listening to any music? No; I'm watching Gab play Final Fantasy X. Is your hair long enough to put in a ponytail? No. Has someone ever told you they want to spend the rest of their life with you? Hm, it's funny, I don't see him anymore. Have you ever peed in the woods? No. Have you ever played Twister? Yeah, I liked playing it as a kid. Are you looking for a boyfriend//girlfriend? Not actively, no. I really don't need one right now. Out of all of your friends who have you gotten in the worst fight with? Of all friends I've EVER had, probably Colleen. Of the friends I still have, maybe Sara. What is the last microwaveable meal you had? I've been on a SERIOUS grilled chicken pesto kick lately. Mom buys these small Healthy Choice (or some brand like that) bowls that you put in the microwave and then pour the noodles and chicken into the sauce after and mix, and oh my GOOOOOOOOOOOD it is so good. What would you consider a talent of yours? Assuming the worst out of every imaginable situation. If Hogwarts was a real place and you were able to attend, what class do you think you’d excel at? According to those little quizzes I've taken, I lean mostly towards Hufflepuff, but with Gryffindor traits as well. Would you rather learn more about space or more about the ocean? Well, ideally, space, but I think learning much more about our ocean would be more beneficial to our planet and our prosperity on Earth. Do you have a mental illness? If yes, how have you learned to cope with it? If no, do you ever suspect you may have one? I have a lot. My bipolarity, OCD, and PTSD are *mostly* under control, but I most certainly still have trouble sometimes. My anxiety and AvPD are still rabid fucking hounds. My depression was well-managed not even that long ago, but life circumstances have it so it's been more aggressive than what was usual. Do you have a favorite character from The Avengers? I dunno, I like Loki ig. Thor is cool, too. It's been WAY too long since I've seen that movie. What type of cake would you like right now? Double chocolate cake sounds great rn. @_@ What was your dream job when you were a child? Are you going after that dream or not? Why? Paleontologist, and no, because I don't want to travel for work, and I could also never handle the heat during site excavations. Even though it may not work all the time, what usually helps make you feel better when you’re upset or down? Watching one of my comfort series on YouTube from channels I enjoy. Why do you personally take surveys? It's a method to just get all these thoughts out of my head and to vent when I need to without actually directly burdening someone with my problems. No one has to read 'em. It's purely for my benefit, and also to pass the time, which I have too much of. Are there any words that you can’t stand? Derogatory terms for certain groups of people. What are words that you love? Words like "serendipity," "bliss," joyous, bubbly words. I'm blanking on actual terms. If you had an endless supply of money for clothing only, what would you load your closet with? Ohhhh, lots of shit with studs and spikes. :') I've wanted a studded leather jacket since I was in middle school. Have never gotten one because of how pricey they are. :( I'd also get some KILLER boots and just obtain a more gothic wardrobe. I'd love corsets too if my body ever shrinks back to a point I'd be comfortable wearing well-made ones. What is your favorite type of cookie? Chocolate chip. What is your favorite type of candy? Strawberry Sour Punch Straws. What color would you like to paint your nails next? I don't paint my nails. Realistically, they probably won't be 'til my entirely hypothetical wedding, in which case they'll probably be black. What do you think is creepy that society accepts as normal? Urinals, alsdkfja;klwejr. Like I get men's bathrooms give the option of using a stall, but still... side-by-side urinals are so weird and a breach of privacy to me. What is the silliest secret about yourself that you sometimes feel the need to hide? That I enjoy forum RP. I tell NOBODY because I fear being judged and found as weird. Like seriously, in my "real" life, maybe two people know. What do you think is a good date other than dinner and a movie? I want a picnic date really bad kalj;dkl;jwe. Do you dread certain days of the week? If yes, what day/s and why? No. They're all very similar. Do you ever give money to homeless people? No, admittedly. Mom instead likes to sometimes offer them bottles of water or if she's really feeling generous, a cheap meal at like McDonald's or something. She doesn't like to hand out money because, well, we know what a vast majority of homeless people spend it on. Do you like to brag or are you modest? I get really uncomfortable bragging, so I try to be as modest as I can be. What your favourite thing to have on toast? I love giving it a light toast, then adding a thin layer of butter, cinnamon, and sugar. It's bomb. Do you know how to surf? Would you ever like to learn? No to either. If you eat oatmeal, do you have it plain or do you have certain toppings that you like to add to it? I love sprinkling some sugar in there. Would you prefer to spend time with your whole family all at once, or would you rather quality time with one family member at a time? Depends on what I feel up to, but I tend to enjoy family time as a group more. That way, I don't have TOO much pressure to be constantly social. I can just listen sometimes. What is the funniest or strangest thing you’ve ever heard somebody say in their sleep? I have no idea. I worry what people have heard ME say/scream in my sleep. Do you own a pair of slippers? Yeah, they're meerkat ones! :') Choose one: Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: Absolutely a Milky Way. Who was the last person to comment you? My mom. I'm cool, I swear. How many arguments have you had with the last person you kissed? A lot over all these years, but I'd say that's normal when you've been friends since you were 8 and 10. Do you know anyone who has been arrested? Yes. What are you planning on doing after this? When I'm done taking this survey, I'll probably either go to bed or play a bit of WoW. Idk. Will you be up before 7 am tomorrow? I have my alarm set for 7, actually. Ever been the only one trying to fix a relationship? Mhmmmm. -_- What was the last bad thing that happened to your phone? The case that came with the phone got a big crack in it. Have you ever been with someone while they were throwing up? Absolutely not. I would start vomiting. I can't handle the sound or the act in general. Have you been to the beach this year? No; I haven't been in a long time, and I am noooot complaining. Have you ever skipped school just because you were tired? Yes. Are you tan? God no. Do you own any leather? No real leather, no. I never would. Have you ever bought a shot glass? No. Do you have a therapist? Yes. We actually just talked today. Well, technically yesterday. What’s the worst name your mom has ever called you? I don't know. She doesn't really call me bad names. Have you ever listened to Christian music? Not of my own volition, but I've heard it because of other people controlling the radio. Are you the ‘creative child’? Yes, I'm considered that one. Did you like your life when you were in middle school? God no. That's when everything started going downhill. Have you ever been 'popular’? No. Has someone ever tried to convert you? Yes. Are you a fan of muffins? I LOVE muffins. What’s your most recent obsession? It's kinda chilled out now, but when Resident Evil 8: Village released, I was CRAZY over it. I watched SO many different let's plays of it. I think it's safe to say it beats out RE4 as my favorite installment.
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