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yassbishimvintage · 16 days ago

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Shut it Down

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

MDNI!

A/N: Merry Christmas y'all.

The sun was shining down in Imani’s face. She had to tear herself away from Terry this morning. Her sister Maya wanted to have breakfast with her to check in. “So now that he’s home how is he?” She asks. Imani sighs. She had to be careful of how she answered the next question. Even though Terry loved her family like his own, he still didn’t want to show weakness.

Imani sipped her coffee as her sister, Maya, watched her curiously from across the diner booth. They had always been close, and Maya could read her like a book. Setting her mug down, Imani took a moment to gather her thoughts before answering.

"He’s... adjusting," Imani replied softly. "It’s been tough for him. Losing Mike, the stress of everything back in Shelby Springs... it’s a lot to process."

Maya nodded, her brow furrowing with concern. "That man has been through hell and back, hasn’t he?" she said. "But what about you? You okay? I know you’re strong, but you can’t pour from an empty cup, sis."

Imani smiled faintly at her sister's words. "I’m okay," she said, though the truth was more complicated. "I just want to be there for him, you know? He’s carrying so much, and I can see it weighing on him. Some days he’s better, but others... it’s like he’s still fighting a battle, just in his head now."

Maya reached across the table and placed her hand over Imani’s. "You’re doing more than enough, Imani. He’s lucky to have you. But make sure he knows it’s okay to lean on you, really lean on you. Sometimes men like him think they have to bear it all alone."

Imani nodded. "I try to remind him of that every day," she said. "Last night, he... he let me in a little more. It’s progress, I guess. I just want him to see that he’s not alone anymore."

Maya leaned back, studying her sister. "You love him, don’t you?"

"With everything in me," Imani said without hesitation.

Maya smiled. "Then he’s got a fighting chance. But don’t forget—taking care of yourself is part of taking care of him. Don’t lose sight of that."

Imani gave her sister a grateful look, appreciating the reminder. "I won’t," she promised. "Thanks, Maya."

"Anytime," Maya said with a wink. "Now, tell me more about this roast beef dinner you made last night. I’m starting to think you’re spoiling that man."

Imani chuckled. "I might be. But he deserves it."

They spent the rest of breakfast laughing and catching up, Imani feeling lighter after the conversation. She had her sister's support, and that meant everything.She smirks. “Now. How’s the sex?” She asks. Imani nearly choked on her coffee, her eyes widening as she looked at Maya. "Really? That’s what you’re asking me right now?" she said, trying to keep her voice down.

Maya raised an eyebrow, unbothered by Imani’s reaction. "Of course, I’m asking. You’ve been glowing lately, so either it’s the sex, or you’ve found a new skincare routine, and I know you too well to believe the latter."

Imani rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile from tugging at her lips. "It’s… amazing, as always," she admitted, her voice dropping slightly. "He’s just... so attentive. Like, he takes his time, you know? Makes sure I’m good before anything else."

Maya leaned in, her interest clearly piqued. "Girl, go on. Don’t leave me hanging."

Imani laughed softly, shaking her head. "Let’s just say he knows exactly what I need, even when I don’t say it. And he’s so... gentle with me, but not too gentle, if you know what I mean."

Maya grinned mischievously. "Oh, I know what you mean. Big, strong, marine boyfriend who’s soft for you but can turn it up when needed? Imani, you’re living the dream."

Imani blushed but couldn’t help laughing. "Okay, enough about my sex life. How’s yours?"

Maya waved her hand dismissively. "Nonexistent at the moment, but that’s fine. I’m focused on me right now. But seriously, I’m happy for you. It sounds like Terry really sees you and loves you the way you deserve."

Imani nodded, her expression softening. "He does. And I don’t take that for granted, not for a second."

Maya raised her coffee mug in a toast. "To men who love us right and know how to handle business."

Imani laughed, clinking her mug against her sister’s. "I’ll drink to that.” Maya turns her head to glance out the window. She sees a black GMC Dua..ley pull into the parking lot. “Who’s that?” she asks.

Imani turned to look where Maya was pointing and spotted the large GMC Dually parked a few spaces away. The truck was pristine, its black paint gleaming under the morning sun, with chrome accents that looked freshly polished. It stood out among the sedans and SUVs in the lot.

Imani raised an eyebrow, recognizing it immediately. "That’s Terry’s truck."

Maya’s eyes widened as she leaned closer to the window. "Wait, he followed you here? What is he, your bodyguard now?"

Imani couldn’t help but chuckle. "No, he probably just wanted to check in on me. You know how he is."

Maya smirked. "Yeah, overprotective and a little territorial. But honestly, can you blame him? Look at you."

Imani rolled her eyes but smiled, gathering her things. "Come on, let’s go say hi before he thinks I’m avoiding him."

As they stepped outside, Terry climbed out of the truck, his towering frame and confident stride impossible to miss. He wore a simple fitted T-shirt and jeans, but the way he carried himself made him look effortlessly commanding.

"Hey, babe," Imani called, walking up to him. "What are you doing here?"

Terry flashed her a small smile, his eyes softening when they met hers. "Just wanted to see you. Figured you might want to grab lunch after you’re done with your sister."

Maya crossed her arms, looking between them with a teasing grin. "You’re setting the bar way too high for the rest of us, Terry. Showing up unannounced just to take her to lunch?"

Terry shrugged, his smile turning a bit sheepish. "What can I say? I like spending time with her."

Imani shook her head, trying to hide her amusement. "Well, since you’re here, why don’t you come sit with us for a bit?"

Terry glanced at Maya, who raised her hands in mock surrender. "Don’t worry, big guy. I’ll keep the embarrassing sister stories to a minimum."

He chuckled, holding the door open for both women. "Appreciate that."

Maya smirks and quickly asks him. “So tell me Mr Marine. What kind of sex spell you got on my little sister.” She says

Terry paused mid-step, his brow arching as a slow smirk spread across his face. "Excuse me?" he asked, his deep voice laced with amusement. He glanced at Imani, who was already groaning in embarrassment, her hand covering her face.

"Maya!" Imani hissed, shooting her sister a glare.

"What?" Maya said innocently, shrugging as she took her seat. "I’m just saying. She’s been glowing since y’all got together, and I’m convinced it’s not just the happy weight."

Terry chuckled, taking the chair beside Imani and resting an arm casually on the back of her seat. His eyes flicked to Maya with a mischievous gleam. "Let’s just say I aim to please," he said smoothly, his tone playful but carrying enough weight to make Maya blink in surprise.

Imani gasped, turning to him. "Terry!"

He laughed, leaning over to kiss her temple. "What? She asked."

Maya burst out laughing, clapping her hands. "Alright, I see you, Marine. No wonder she’s hooked."

Imani shook her head, trying to hide her smile. "You’re impossible, both of you."

Maya grinned, picking up her coffee. "Hey, I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so happy all the time. If it’s because of him, then props to you, Terry. You’re doing something right."

Terry shrugged, his expression softening as he looked at Imani. "She deserves to be happy. That’s all that matters to me."

Maya tilted her head, a rare seriousness settling in her tone. "Well, as long as you keep that mindset, we’re good. I’m just looking out for my baby sister."

Terry nodded, his voice steady. "I wouldn’t expect anything less."

Imani glanced between the two, her heart full as she reached for Terry’s hand under the table, giving it a squeeze.

When she gets in his truck she rests her head on the glass. Everytime he drives his hand rests on her thigh.

As Terry drove, the hum of the engine and the subtle rhythm of the tires on the pavement filled the quiet between them. Imani leaned her head against the cool window, her thoughts wandering as the scenery blurred past. The warmth of Terry’s hand resting on her thigh was a steadying comfort, grounding her in the moment.

It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about their bond. His thumb moved in absentminded circles, a habit he had whenever his hand found its home there. She glanced down at it and smiled softly, her fingers drifting to rest lightly over his.

"You okay, baby?" he asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

She turned her head slightly to look at him, the way his strong hands gripped the wheel and how his eyes flicked between her and the road. "I’m okay," she replied, her voice gentle. "Just thinking."

Terry gave her thigh a small squeeze, his way of saying he was there for her without needing words. "About what?"

"About how much I love this," she said softly, her eyes meeting his for a brief second before returning to the passing view outside.

"This?" he asked, his brow arching slightly.

"This," she repeated, covering his hand with hers. "The little things. You driving us, your hand here...it’s just us. I love it."

Terry smiled, his expression softening as he gave her thigh another squeeze. "I love it too," he said simply.

And with that, they fell back into a comfortable silence, letting the unspoken connection between them speak louder than words ever could.

He pulls over. She lifts her head up confused. Terry eased the truck onto the shoulder of the quiet road, the hum of the engine settling into a low idle. He turned to her, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let’s play 'wandering hand,'" he said, his voice deep and teasing, the hint of mischief in his eyes unmistakable.

Imani couldn't help but roll her eyes, though a soft laugh escaped her. "Terry," she said, her tone half-amused, half-scolding.

"What?" he replied, feigning innocence as his free hand left the steering wheel and settled on her knee. "You know the rules."

His fingers began their slow, deliberate journey, trailing up her thigh in featherlight strokes that sent a shiver through her. Imani pressed her lips together, trying to maintain composure, but the way his touch lingered just enough to tease made her heart race.

"You’re impossible," she muttered, though there was no real annoyance in her voice.

"And you love it," he shot back, his grin widening as his hand slipped just beneath the hem of her skirt.

Imani reached out, placing her hand over his to halt his progress, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her resolve. "You’re going to get us caught, Terry."

"We’re parked," he said, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent heat spiraling through her. "And it’s not like anyone’s around."

She bit her lip, trying to resist the pull of his charm, but when his lips brushed against her neck and his hand resumed its exploration, resistance became futile. "You’re lucky I love you," she whispered, her voice shaky as she gave in to the moment.

His soft chuckle against her skin was his only reply as the game of "wandering hand" took on a life of its own, the world outside the truck fading into the background.

Terry’s hand paused at the waistband of her panties, his fingers teasingly slipping just beneath the fabric. His breath was warm against her ear as he murmured, “You gonna let me keep going, baby?”

Imani’s breath hitched, her body responding before her mind could form words. She glanced at him, her gaze caught in the intensity of his eyes. “Terry...” she began, her voice soft, laced with a mix of hesitation and desire.

His thumb stroked the delicate skin of her hip, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth. “Say the word, and I’ll stop,” he said, his voice calm but thick with want. “But if you want me to keep going... I need to hear you say it.”

Her heartbeat thundered in her chest as she let out a shaky exhale. The heat of his hand, the gentle yet deliberate pressure of his touch, sent sparks skittering through her. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her words barely audible, but they carried all the permission he needed.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips with his as his hand slid lower, exploring her with the same care and attention that always left her breathless. The world outside the truck was forgotten entirely as they lost themselves in each other, the quiet intimacy between them deepening with every touch and kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless and tangled in the charged energy of the moment, Terry rested his forehead against hers. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion.

Imani smiled, her cheeks flushed. “Right back at you,” she replied softly, her hands resting on his shoulders as the truck’s engine purred quietly in the background.

“Now I’m turned on and we’re no where near home.” She says.

Terry smirked, his eyes darkening with mischief. “Who said we need to be home for me to take care of you?” he teased, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down her spine.

Imani raised an eyebrow at him, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, so you’re bold now, huh?”

He chuckled, leaning in closer so his lips brushed against her ear. “I’ve always been bold, baby. You just bring it out of me.”

Her cheeks flushed as she swatted at his chest. “Terry, you’re impossible.”

He grinned, his hand still resting possessively on her thigh. “Only for you.”

His hand moved up her thigh as they drove down the road. His thumb doing lazy circles on her exposed skin.

As Terry’s hand moved higher up her thigh, Imani let out a soft breath, feeling the warmth of his touch spread through her. She glanced over at him, catching the glint of mischief in his eyes as his thumb traced slow, deliberate circles. Her heart raced a little, the anticipation of their playful energy making her pulse quicken.

That’s when she couldn’t take it anymore. Not the first time and won’t be the last time they had car sex. In her head she thanks him for the dark tint on the windows. Imani maneuvers herself over the console. She straddles him. “You know I hate car sex.” She says.

Terry chuckles softly, his hands resting on her hips as she straddles him. “You always say that, but then you seem to enjoy it once we get started.” He smirks, his lips brushing against her ear as he speaks.

Imani laughs quietly, leaning in closer. “It’s the lack of space. I like to take my time,” she responds, her hands sliding up his chest as she finds comfort in the familiar closeness of his body.

He presses his forehead to hers, his voice turning playful but with a touch of sincerity. “If you don’t like it, we can always find somewhere else next time.”

She smiles, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "Next time,” she repeats softly, her fingers trailing down his chest, slowly teasing. “But for now...” she leans in, kissing him deeply as her body melts into his.

Terry, ever responsive to her, deepens the kiss, his hands moving to the small of her back to pull her even closer. As the moment lingers, they forget about the cramped space, lost in the connection they share.

“Now. Let me hear you moan for me real fast.” He says. She moans as his hands reach their destination. One thing that always made sure that made him on rock hard was her moans. In the next breath, “Now. Tell me you love me.” He says.

As they arrived at their destination, Imani instinctively reached for Terry's hand, intertwining her fingers with his. She gave it a gentle squeeze, glancing up at him with a soft smile.

“You ready?” she asked, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

Terry nodded, his grip on her hand firm yet tender. “As long as you’re with me, I’m ready for anything,” he replied, his tone carrying the weight of his sincerity.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @haechvn @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @notpradagurl7 @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque

#terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black oc #aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #aaron pierre smut #Spotify

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all444miles · 2 years ago

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— IN HER OWN LIL’ WORLD

— paring: e!42 miles x black!fem!reader

— genre: fluff

— summary: you can chat for the world, so you tell it all to none other than your boyfriend.

— a/n: the way this is a self insert bc when i tell u i can CHATTTTTT 😭 this is pretty much inspired by the song “love is only a feeling” (hence the title, that “she’s so perfect in her lil world”) so you might see a bit of lyric references in it. writing ts at 2am got me TIRED than a mf, but enjoy !!

You were a natural talker. You could talk for hours without getting tired. You could talk for the whole world, even. So you tell everything you want to say to your world, Miles. Miles loved everything about you. But when you would talk to him non-stop, and the way you’d articulate your words? Made his whole day.

“She came up to me tryna start sum, and you know I wouldn’t take that shi, so I had to deal wit her.” you explained, sitting on your boyfriend’s lap, his hands on your waist, as you continued to tell the story you had been telling Miles about for the past 26 minutes.

“Mami, you fought her?” he asked, his head cocking to the side and his eyebrows furrowed. “Das crazy, ain’t I said if you got a problem tell me?” You never really knew how, but whenever a person would cause you problems, Miles would always find a way to sort it out.

You tried to think to yourself, before you realised what he said to you just a ago week ago, catching your breath as you did so.

“Aight ma, after that fight, if you got any more beef wit somebody, for a good reason, you come to me, you heard?”

“Oh yeah..” you could hear a soft sigh coming from Miles and watched as he slightly shook his head, which made you smile. “That’s my bad. But she still deserved that shit.”

“So ima take it you won? Or else ima be even more annoyed.” he questioned you, raising an eyebrow, engaging himself more into the conversation.

You chuckled at his question, and your answer made him grin. “Of course I did! You ain’t never gon see me lose a fight.”

“That’s my girl. Now, tell me the rest.” you smiled at Miles as he waited for you to continue. You were always a talkative person, and Miles would always be the one to listen.

“You sure I ain’t talking yo ear off, baby?” you laughed quietly as you spoke, feeling the slightest bit self-conscious that you were talking too much. Miles, however, laughed at what you said.

“Mami, you always do, but I love it.”

“Ahora, no dejes que te detenga amor, sigue hablándome.” (Now, don't let me stop you love, keep talking to me.)

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

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dood-itsradical · 24 days ago

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Bounty

Pairing: Goo Kim x Gn!Reader

Summary: Bounty hunters are ok. Goo as bounty hunter? Not ok.

Genres: Action, comedy, can be viewed as platonic.

Details: 1.4k words, not proofread, martial artist!reader, reader is Malaysian bc I can, translations are placed at the end of the fic, cliffhanger ending.

A/n: Goo getting a proper oneshot by me?? Chat we winning! Reading Goo in Manager Kim HAD ME ON MY FUCKING KNEES and it sparks idea. This was originally supposed to be a drabble but it got long sooo, eat up! I don't do requests!

Masterlist

You don't know which idiot put a fucking bounty on you. First you hold grudge as you bound to find out who the culprit was. Eventually the people who hunt you down stole so much of your time, preventing you from doing so. It's not that they're any better than you are. They're just so many people willing to test their luck, that includes having a death wish.

"Boss, mee goreng satu!" You raised you hand to the local chef. He signaled back an 'OK' as you take a sit on the plastic chair. The homie atmosphere hits your nose with your eyes taking notes of your surroundings. When your food arrived you recited your bismillah before digging in.

The chair across from you were pulled suddenly, catching your attention when a man sat down. He fan the air with his hand, letting out a huffed and grin at you. "Damn, it's pretty hot is here huh? I have respect for you people. As soon as I land here I nearly pass out from the heat."

You paused mid chew, blinking at the blond dude. "Can I help you, sir?" You asked, your accent spoke with fluent English.

"Wait a moment." Goo shakes the fabric of his shirt, fanning himself from the inside. He then gesture your ice milo. "Can I?" You gestured back, letting him as he pull the glass to himself as drink from the straw. He takes big three gulps before exhaling. "Ah, that feels good. That's actually good. You guys have impressive products though."

"Where were we? Oh right." He pat his pants, before taking out his phone and show the screen to you. You stare before looking back at hik. Of course, he's your damn bounty. He's obviously not a local. But for a foreigner to came along this way for your ass? Now you're definitely have a big tone of beef with the culprit.

You chuckled, shaking your head. Picking your food as you said, "You got the wrong person. That's not me."

Goo's brows lit up, "Oh? That's not you?" He looked at his phone then back at you, double checking just to humour himself. "Really?"

You nod again, now it's his turn to chuckle. "Oh, I see, I see. I'm sorry. So you're really not (Full Name) from (birthplace), living in (address). (Age) years old, single, work part-time job. Parents named (dad's name) and (mom's name)."

You nearly choked at his full description of your background, you immediately swallowed your food and keep feigning a smile. "No, no."

"No?" He asked again in his own playful tone, "Ooh..." He nods before pulling your plate towards him. He leaned closer with a sneered. "Yah. Cut the bullshit already. You people are really know how to make jokes, I nearly pissed my pants."

As unfazed as you are, you decided to play along. "Where you from, sir?"

"South Korea." He spoke clearly, almost proudly. Your mouth shaped an 'O'.

"Wow, annyeonghaseyo! Welcome. Kamsahamnida for coming to our country."

The corner of his lips curled. He wasn't sure if you were mocking or that's really the basic knowledge around here. But he's the one that decide when play time is over.

The passing stray cat shrieks in surprise, followed by locals running away for their safety when the table was thrown effortlessly across the place by him.

You clicked your tongue, looking at where food landed. "Bro, that's a waste." Your gaze meet his piercing ones. "Can we not do this here? I wouldn't really appreciate it if some sialan started to show their gangster side here."

You raised you hand at the owner, managing to finish your sentence, "Sorry boss! I'll pay for the damage soon-" before a hard impact hit you square in the face, sending you back with an abnormal force. You groaned, pulling yourself back from someone's car. Inspecting the damaged on it as you then shake your head. "Of course it's a Myvi." You muttered, now facing front to your opponent.

His strength is definitely new to you. Mind you, you aren't much of a traveller. In this economy it's almost too hard to earn just enough money for that. But the fact envy you. Why must good fighters are always not from your country?

Brushing your side, you roll your shoulder. "Oi, oppa. Go easy on me lah! I don't have enough money to pay for the surgery. Even funeral cost you big dough, you know? My parents will have a heart attack." Your accent getting thicker as you scowl.

Goo laughed, "The review really tell no lies, huh? You locals really are friendly and funny. I like you but news flash you are the money. And I'm gonna make sure you're an easy one."

Cracking you neck, you get on your stance. His smirk gets wider as he read your body language.

You then pointed behind him, "Fuiyoh! Is that Uncle Roger?!" He raised a brow, and turn over his shoulder, giving you just the time to make a run for it. He deadpanned, "Wow."

Your feet scratched on the concrete as you took sharp turn to an alleyway. Picking up your feet as fast as you can. Don't get any wrong ideas. You're not a coward. You can fight. And you have the right to use it for self defense. But the idea of a random Korean guy coming here for you still sound absurd. Yet again what are the odds? Money is money. This guy must be loaded. Like super loaded.

"Hey."

Your eyes widened over your shoulder as he towers you, ready to pin you down with his fist. However you were quick to react, putting your foot down and pull your weight back and swerve to the side, dodging his attack. His fist meet the concrete, leaving huge crack from the strong impact.

"Superman?" You uttered in disbelief. You gasped, ducking your upper body to the front as his kick went pass you. You can feel strong breeze blowing your through you. He really does mean business. You really going to meet God at this point. But you aren't ready yet. You haven't repent to your past sins. You might as well get serious too.

You dodged his attacks swiftly. And by the looks of it he's having just as much fun. Blocking his hit with precise predictions, he take notes that you are no amateur. However quickly pushed aside that thought when he grasped the nearby rusty pipe, pulling it off like it's nothing and swing it towards you.

You groaned in pain. Your head throbbed like crazy as you stare at him judgmentally, "What the fuck, man?!" He whistled lowly, tossing the pipe playfully in his hand. He was impressed by your iron head and the fact that you hardly bleed. "You're playing dirty." You gritted your teeth, rubbing the sore spot. He shrugged, his smirk didn't falter, "I know. That's kinda my thing. Wanna see what else I can do?"

Again you found yourself being tossed across the store, damaging another property of others as people scramming out for their lives. "Sorry, aunty!" You said to the owner, picking your feet up.

"Haiyah, again ah?! You cannot stop causing trouble. I'll tell your mother." She scolded while pointed angrily at you, her accent is thick as a brick. Then at Goo, "You also! You think I cannot tell if somebody have a plastic surgery? You must have a lot of money, meh. So pay lah!"

"That's a shitty stereotype, lady." Goo stated. She spat back, "Ceh! What fuck do I give? (Name)! You settle this. This is why you haven't got married yet." She sigh heavily, shaking her head with disappointment before leaving the store from the backroom.

"I almost feel bad." Goo rolled his neck after the brief earful. You brushed him off, "I'm versatile. Where were we? Right, question. How much they paid you? Because I'm sure I wasn't even worth a million."

His hand rest the pipe on his shoulder while the other scratched his chin, "You'd be surprised. You're sort of a big shot, you should be proud."

"Proud? They call me anak saka. I'm a bad omen. That's God's job." You retorted. He snickered.

"Yeah, but me? I'm just doing devil's work here. Stop playing around. Just let me beat the shit out of you, yeah?" Lightly hitting the edge of the metal onto his palm rhythmically, he pulled a sadistic grin before charging at you with the speed of light.

Translations:

Mee goreng satu - one fried noodle

Bismillah - doing something "in the name of God"

Milo - popular cocoa drink

Sialan - fucker

Myvi - Malaysian car that is popular as a symbol of humour due to the random absurdity that they often occurred in. (Example/better understatement: Florida typa shit humour)

Lah - use as an addiction in a sentence in any way. Literally.

Fuiyoh - malay version of "wow"

Uncle Roger - popular Malaysian food critic Youtuber.

Haiyah - imagine the word 'sigh" but you pronounce the word instead of actually sighing. A term to use when you're disappointed.

Ceh - malay version of "tch" (Pronounced: ch-eh)

Anak saka - anak (child), saka (ancestral jinn what was pass down from the heritage) = devil's child.

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yan-lorkai · 1 month ago

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.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ a/n: i pretty much wrote this bcs of boredom, then put on queaue, then i wanted to rewrite it lmao. so i'm just posting it now ~

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: well, cannibalism????? gn!reader as always

"How does it taste?"

You asked, watching the blood staining his lips. Like a river, the red, metallic liquid trickled down the sides of his mouth with each bite of raw flesh that Jade savored so passionately. Hungry like a predator, his eyes carried a promise of death for anyone who dared to interrupt him at that hour when he suddenly turned.

You, however, were used to receiving that look and didn’t mind it.

On the ground before you lay dozens of enemy bodies. The foul stench of death spread in intense waves. You wouldn’t be able to describe it if someone asked, but it was horrendous. And yet, Jade found pleasure in devouring that flesh and blood. You wondered what it tasted like. Would it be similar to beef, pork, or chicken? Or something entirely different?

He smiled, bits of flesh stuck in his teeth as he adjusted his suit and walked toward you. Blood dripped from his sharp, grinning teeth. His eyes sparkled with a wild gleam as he savored every bite.

"Raw flesh has a peculiar taste, an indulgence that few understand," he mused, running his tongue across his lips to clean the remnants of blood.

"That’s technically cannibalism," you retorted, uncertain.

Nothing in his posture suggested Jade would harm you, yet it was better not to push your luck while you were still on his good side. It would be safer to do what Floyd had asked — borrow a pair of Jade’s shoes — and leave, but Jade was already too close, staring at you with gleaming eyes and a smile that made you want to vomit from the overwhelming stench of death emanating from him.

"Cannibalism? Don’t be so mundane, my dear. It’s part of my diet. In the ocean, everyone eats such things all the time. Please, don’t apply human laws to me in the same way." Breathing in that warm breath was difficult, but you maintained your composure to avoid offending the eel. You never knew when you might be next on his list.

"Is that how it works?" You murmured, trying to look away, but Jade’s eyes were like an abyss. Hypnotic. Inescapable. He always had that effect on you, a mix of fascination and fear. Despite his refined and polished appearance, you knew he was dangerous. Deadly, even.

Jade tilted his head, as if savoring the tension in the air between you. The smile never left his bloodstained lips.

"Oh, it works quite well, actually." His voice was a seductive whisper, dancing between calmness and something... predatory. "Each bite... every drop... is an experience. Something that few have the privilege to appreciate."

You swallowed hard, feeling cold sweat trickling down your neck. Fresh blood dripped from his pale fingers, staining the already soaked ground around you. He made no effort to clean his hands, and the sight only made him seem more savage, a refined predator who had just hunted.

"Do you... enjoy it?" The question slipped out before you could stop it. Your voice sounded shakier than you’d have liked, but it was hard to feign indifference in the face of such grotesque scenery.

Jade chuckled softly, a low, melodic sound, like the echo of an underwater current. He took a step forward, and you felt the space around you shrink. He was too close now.

"Enjoy?" He repeated, his eyes gleaming with malice. "I would say it’s more than that. It’s a matter of necessity... of survival. And you, Yuu?" He raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed on yours. "Have you never wondered what it would be like? The taste? The texture? The feeling of completely dominating something or someone?"

Your stomach churned. Jade always had a way of wrapping you in his words, as if trying to drag you into the same dark world he inhabited. And the worst part? A small part of you wanted to know. Wanted to understand.

"No... I..." You began, but the words died in your throat when he raised his bloodied hand and ran it across his lips, licking his index finger with disturbing calm.

"I could show you, if you wish," he whispered, his voice like a cold current snaking toward you. "Just a small bite... nothing too dangerous. Just enough for you... to experience it."

Your heart raced. It was an invitation, but also a threat. A test. Jade enjoyed playing with your limits, pushing them just to see how far you could go before breaking. And now, he watched you with that intense gaze, waiting for your answer.

"I... think I’ll pass," you managed to say, trying to smile, though fear burned inside you. "Floyd sent me to get the shoes. Nothing more."

For a moment, silence stretched between you. Then, Jade stepped back, the smile still present but now with something almost disappointed.

"Ah, Floyd." He murmured, adjusting his suit with a graceful gesture. "Always so practical. So straightforward. Very well, Yuu. I won’t be rude. Not today."

You took a deep breath, feeling relief fill your lungs. He was letting you go. For now. Jade retrieved a pair of shoes from a nearby corner, clean, as if they hadn’t witnessed the macabre scene around them. He extended them to you with a refined gesture, as if offering a gift.

"Take them." His eyes gleamed again with that familiar malice. "But remember, Yuu... the door between you and me is never fully closed. Perhaps, one day, your curiosity will win."

You took the shoes, your hands slightly trembling, and stepped back.

"Maybe..." You replied softly, trying to sound firm, though you weren’t sure you believed it.

With one last smile, Jade turned back to the bodies on the ground, as if you were no longer there. You didn’t look back as you left—because you knew that if you did, you would find those predatory eyes watching your every move.

And somehow, you knew he was right.

#yandere tw #jade leech x reader #jade x mc #jade x reader #jade leech #yandere jade #jade x yuu #yandere jade x reader #yandere jade leech x mc #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade x yuu #yandere jade leech #yandere jade x mc #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland

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stylesispunk · 7 months ago

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"But daddy I love him"

ceo!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you made up a lie involving joel for the sake of both your companies. What would come out from all of this?

wc: 3k.

warnings: age gap and grammar mistakes because I didn't check my writing.

a/n: this is the mess that comes from my mind after a week of migraines and being sick. The idea is corny and stupid but I had fun and I know the rest is going to be fun too, so I hope you like it. (please read before I regretted it and delete) Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You sat at the head of the sleek conference table, your fingers drumming lightly against the polished surface. The room buzzed with a low hum of voice as the team discussed the latest financial reports and projections. Your mind, however, was elsewhere, focused on the challenge that lay ahead.

The company your father had built from the ground up was now facing unprecedented challenges. Competitors were closing in, and technological advancements were outpacing their current capabilities. Despite their best efforts, it was becoming clear that you needed a strategic partnership to stay afloat.

“Okay, what do you think?" John, the CFO, interrupted your thoughts.

You straightened in your chair, pushing a strand of auburn hair behind your ear. "I think we need to consider all options," you replied firmly. "Including a merger."

The room fell silent. Your suggestion hung in the air, heavy with implications. Everyone knew who you were referring to—Miller Enterprises, your fiercest rival.

"But your father..." John began, hesitating.

You raised a hand to silence him. "I know my father has strong feelings about Joel Miller. But we have to look at this objectively. Our future depends on it."

You could see the doubt in their eyes and the unspoken questions. How could they convince your father, a man known for his stubbornness and pride, to collaborate with the one person he despised the most?

The tension in the room was palpable as the team exchanged uneasy glances. You could almost hear the gears turning in their minds, trying to process the audacity of your proposal. The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating, until finally, John spoke up again.

He called you by your first name to emphasize the gravity of the situation: "Do you really think there's any chance your father would agree to this? Joel Miller is his sworn enemy. They've been at each other's throats for years."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "I know it's a long shot. I think their beef is stupid. I mean, my father hates Joel, and whatever the issue, they shouldn’t have passed it on to his son. And we have to at least try. If we don't, Carter Industries might not survive the next year."

Another voice chimed in, this time from Samantha, the head of marketing. "And what about Joel? Even if your father agrees, will Joel go along with it?"

"That's what I intend to find out," you said resolutely. "I'll speak to him tonight at the tech conference. We need to at least open a dialogue."

The room gradually filled with murmurs of reluctant agreement. The plan was risky, but it was the only viable option. The meeting concluded with cautious optimism, and you returned to your office to prepare for the evening.

Later that evening, you attended a tech conference at the Grand Hilton Hotel. The ballroom was filled with industry leaders, investors, and innovators, all mingling under the glittering chandeliers. You moved through the crowd with practiced ease, exchanging pleasantries and making mental notes of potential allies.

As you reached the bar, you spotted a familiar figure—Joel Miller. Tall, with a commanding presence and sharp features, Joel was in deep conversation with a group of executives. His eyes met yours briefly, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of surprise before his usual confident expression returned.

You couldn’t lie and say that the man hadn’t caught your attention; since the first time you saw him, you developed a crush on him, looking from afar at how he had been able to save his father’s company after he got sick, which was something you truly admired from him. However, the man seemed to be despicable, only showing cold behavior in front of others and in front of you; after all, you were the daughter of the man, whom he hated the most, and you had to pay for the sins of old men.

With twelve years ahead of you, Joel never took anything you did seriously. For him, you were the spoiled little brat daughter of his enemy.

Your name came out of his lips in such a sultry voice that your back arched. You turned around to face him, and he greeted you with a wry smile as you reached him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked.

"Joel," you replied coolly, matching his tone. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"It's always good to keep an eye on the competition," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "I was hoping we could talk," you said instead, lowering your voice. "Privately."

Joel raised an eyebrow but nodded. He excused himself from his group and led you to a quieter corner of the room. The ambient noise of the conference faded slightly, giving you a semblance of privacy.

"Alright, what's this about?" he asked, his tone more serious now.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "Our companies are in trouble, Joel.”

He widens his eyes at you, surprised.

“Yes, I know your company is in trouble, Joel. and we need to merge if we want to survive."

Joel's expression hardened, with a flicker of skepticism in his eyes. "You know as well as I do that your father will never agree to that."

"I'm aware," you admitted, your voice steady. "But I also know that you're smart enough to see the potential benefits. We need to find a way to make this work."

He studied you for a moment, his gaze intense. "And how do you propose we convince our fathers to set aside their differences and agree to this merger?"

Before you could answer, a waiter approached with a tray of champagne flutes. You each took one, the pause giving you a moment to gather your thoughts.

"We'll need to present a united front," you said finally. "Show them that we're serious and that this is the best option for both companies."

Joel took a sip of his champagne, considering your words. "And how do you suggest we do that?"

Your mind raced, searching for a solution that would make your proposal more palatable to your father. The idea came to you suddenly, reckless and desperate, but it was the only one that seemed even remotely feasible.

"We tell them we're having a baby," you said, the words rushing out before you could second-guess yourself.

Joel choked on his champagne, his eyes wide with shock. "What?!"

"It's not true, of course," you hurriedly explained. "But if they believe it, it might just be enough to make them put aside their differences and agree to the merger."

You held your breath as Joel's reaction sank in. His wide-eyed shock was exactly what you had expected, though it didn't make it any easier to withstand.

"It's the only way they'll take us seriously," you explained quickly, your voice low but urgent. "If they think there's a future together—both personally and professionally—they'll have no choice but to consider the merger."

Joel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, disbelief still etched on his face. "You're suggesting we lie about something as serious as a baby? Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?"

"I know it's drastic," you admitted, stepping closer to ensure no one could overhear. "But think about it. They'd be forced to put aside their grudges for the sake of a grandchild. And once the merger is complete, we can come clean. By then, it will be too late to undo anything."

He stared at you, the intensity of his gaze making your heart pound in your chest. "And what if they find out before then? What if they never forgive us for the deception?"

You shrugged, trying to seem more confident than you felt. "It's a risk, yes. But it's a risk we have to take if we want to save our companies."

Joel ran a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the wheels turning in his mind as he weighed the pros and cons of your reckless plan. Finally, he sighed, a mixture of frustration and reluctant agreement in his expression.

"Alright," he said slowly. "We'll do it your way. But this better work, or we'll both end up paying for this."

You nodded, the weight of Joel's reluctant agreement settling over you. "Thank you, Joel. I promise, this will work."

He glanced around the room, ensuring no one was eavesdropping. "So, what's our next move?"

"We need to act fast," you replied. "We'll call a meeting with both our fathers and present the news together. We have to be completely united in this."

Joel's eyes narrowed. “And how is your father going to act when he finds out I touched his daughter?” he asked.

You took a deep breath, recognizing the concern in Joel's question. "I know my father is protective," you admitted, "but that's why we need to handle this delicately. We need to present a united front and show them that this decision is ours, not something forced upon us."

Joel's eyes remained fixed on you, the intensity of his gaze making your heart pound. "And what if he reacts badly?”

"That's a risk we have to take," you replied firmly. "But if we approach this with honesty and determination, they'll see that we are serious about our future—both personal and professional. They might be angry at first, but eventually they'll come around."

Joel sighed, rubbing his temples. "You’re a fucking child, and so stupid.”

Joel’s harsh words stung, but you squared your shoulders and met his gaze steadily. "Maybe I am," you said quietly, "but I’m willing to take this risk because I believe it’s the right thing to do. For our companies, for our future."

He looked at you for a long moment, frustration etched on his face, but something else too—perhaps a grudging respect for your determination. "Fine," he muttered finally. "We'll do it your way. But don’t expect me to protect you if this blows up in our faces."

"I don’t need your protection," you replied, your voice steady. "I need your cooperation."

Joel's eyes flickered with something that might have been respect, but he quickly masked it with a scowl. "Alright, then," he said, his voice resigned but firm. "Let's get this over with."

The following evening, you arranged a dinner meeting with both fathers at an upscale restaurant, choosing a private room to avoid any public scenes. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and unspoken tension as you and Joel waited for your fathers to arrive.

When your father entered, his eyes immediately narrowed upon seeing Joel. "What is he doing here?" he demanded.

"Please, Dad, sit down," you said calmly. "We have something important to discuss."

Mr. Miller arrived shortly after; his expression equally grim. "This better be good," he said, his tone icy.

Joel and you exchanged a brief, reassuring glance before addressing the room. "Dad, Mr. Miller, we have some news that will affect both our families and our companies," Joel began. "We need you to listen with an open mind."

Your father crossed his arms, suspicion evident in his eyes. "Get on with it."

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. "Joel and I... we’re having a baby."

The reaction was immediate. Your father's face turned a deep shade of red, his eyes widening in shock and anger. "What did you just say?" he thundered.

Mr. Miller's expression was a mix of disbelief and confusion. "This better not be some kind of joke."

"It's not a joke," you said firmly, trying to maintain your composure. "Joel and I are expecting a child. We understand this is unexpected, but we believe this is an opportunity for both our families and companies to come together."

Your father's hands clenched into fists, his voice shaking with fury. "You...you betrayed me. With him."

"Dad, please," you pleaded. "Think about the future. Our child deserves a stable, united family. And our companies need to work together to survive."

You still had no idea of the phantoms your father withe

Mr. Miller, though still shocked, seemed to be processing the information more rationally. "If what you're saying is true, then perhaps we need to reconsider our priorities. For the sake of the future."

Your father glared at him. "You're willing to forgive and forget just like that?"

Mr. Miller met his gaze steadily. "For the sake of a grandchild and the future of our companies, yes. We need to find a way to move forward."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Finally, your father exhaled, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Fine. For now, we'll discuss this further. But know this: if either of you are lying, there will be consequences."

You nodded, the weight of your father's warning settling heavily on your shoulders. "Thank you, Dad. We promise this is for the best."

Joel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his grip firm but gentle. "We'll make this work, Sir. I promise."

The tension in the room remained thick, but the initial storm of emotions had passed. The fathers exchanged a few more guarded words, agreeing to meet again to discuss the logistics of a potential merger. As they stood to leave, your father pulled you aside, his face a mix of worry and anger.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he said quietly. "This isn't just about business. It's your life, too."

"I know, Dad," you replied softly. "But I believe this is the right choice. For all of us."

With a reluctant nod, he let you go, and you watched as both fathers left the room, the weight of their expectations pressing down on you.

Joel turned to you, his expression a mix of relief and residual frustration. "Well, that went...better than expected."

You managed a small smile. "Yeah. Now we just have to figure out how to make this convincing."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Please don’t say we need to spend more time together”

Joel's words hung in the air; his frustration evident. You took a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. "I know this isn't ideal," you said gently, "but we need to make this believable. Our fathers need to see that we're serious."

Joel rubbed his temples, a look of resignation on his face. “They know how babies are made, but fine.” he muttered. "What's the plan?"

"We need to start spending time together publicly," you explained. "Go to events, be seen together, and show that we're committed. We also need to have private moments where our fathers can see us interacting genuinely."

Joel looked at you, his expression softening slightly. "Alright. But let's make this as painless as possible."

You nodded in agreement. "We'll keep it professional and focused on the goal. We don't have to be best friends, but we need to convince them that we're building something real."

“But please, don’t make it public” he begged. “I need to sort some things out first”

You recognized the seriousness in Joel's tone and nodded, understanding his request. "Of course," you replied softly. "We'll keep it low-key for now. Just focus on sorting things out on your end, and when you're ready, we can gradually start making our relationship more public."

The next day, you found yourself immersed in a crucial meeting, discussing the finer details of the potential merger with key stakeholders. Despite the weight of the situation, you maintained your composure and focused on the task at hand.

As the meeting progressed, an urgent knock echoed through the door, interrupting the discussion. You glanced up, surprised to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression stormy.

"Joel, what are you doing here?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

He strode into the room, his jaw clenched with barely contained anger. "We need to talk," he said tersely, his gaze fixed on you.

Sensing the gravity of the situation, you excused yourself from the meeting, motioning for Joel to follow you to your office. The tension in the air was palpable as you closed the door behind you, bracing yourself for whatever news had prompted Joel's unexpected visit.

"What's wrong?" you asked, your voice laced with apprehension.

Joel paced the room, his frustration evident in every movement. "Your father," he began, his voice tight with anger. "He's made the news public. He's announcing our supposed relationship to the world."

Shock rippled through you at the revelation. "What? But we agreed to keep it low-key until you were ready."

Joel's expression darkened. "Clearly, your father had other plans. He's blindsided us, and now our private arrangement is splashed across every news outlet."

Your heart sank as you processed the implications of your father's actions. "I can't believe he would do this," you muttered, a mix of disbelief and betrayal washing over you.

Joel stopped pacing, his gaze locking on yours. "You need to deal with this now!” he said, pointing at you.

"Okay, what's so wrong?" you asked, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the rising panic within you.

Joel's eyes bore into yours; his frustration was palpable. "Do you realize what this means? Our private agreement is all out in the open now. We're going to be scrutinized and judged, and God knows what else."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "I understand the gravity of the situation, Joel. But you can't panic. We need to think rationally and come up with a plan to handle this."

He scoffed with a bitter edge to his tone. "And what plan do you propose? The damage is done. We need to contain this before it spirals out of control."

"Why are you asking so crazily about it?" you questioned, a hint of confusion in your voice. "We're in this together, Joel. We need to focus on finding a solution."

Joel's frustration seemed to reach a boiling point as he paced the room, his movements tense and agitated. "Because," he finally spat out, his voice laced with bitterness, "I have a girlfriend, and she's not too pleased about being dragged into this mess."

Shock washed over you as his words sank in. "Wait, what? You have a girlfriend?"

He shot you a withering look, his anger barely contained. "Yes, I have a girlfriend," he snapped. "And she's not exactly thrilled about the fact that I'm supposedly having a baby with you, of all people."

The revelation hit you like a punch to the gut. You had never considered the possibility that Joel might be involved with someone else. The realization that you had unwittingly become entangled in his personal life only added to the chaos of the situation.

"I had no idea," you murmured, feeling a surge of guilt wash over you. "I'm so sorry, Joel. I never meant for any of this to happen."

He scoffed, his expression filled with scorn. "Well, it did happen. And now we're both in this mess, thanks to your brilliant idea.”

He scoffed with a bitter edge to his tone. "And what plan do you propose? The damage is done. We need to contain this before it spirals out of control."

"Why are you asking so crazily about it?" you questioned, a hint of confusion in your voice. "We're in this together, Joel. We need to focus on finding a solution."

Shock washed over you as his words sank in. "Wait, what? You have a girlfriend?"

He shot you a withering look, his anger barely contained. "Yes, I have a girlfriend," he snapped. "And she's not exactly thrilled about the fact that I'm supposedly in a fake relationship with you, of all people."

You swallowed hard, the weight of Joel's words settling heavily on your shoulders. "I understand," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant to cause any harm, Joel. I thought…”

“You didn’t think! That’s the problem." He snapped, “You’re a spoiled woman, just as I always thought, and you don’t care about anything or anyone.”

Joel's words cut deep, slicing through your defenses like a razor-sharp blade. The accusation stung, and you felt a surge of pain and frustration rise within you.

"I do care, Joel," you protested, your voice shaking with emotion. "I care about our companies and about our futures. I thought I was doing what was necessary to save them."

He scoffed; his expression hardened with resentment. "Save them? You're willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to get what you want, aren't you? Including my relationship, my life?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of guilt and anguish clouding your vision. "No, that's not true," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I never wanted to hurt you, Joel. I never wanted any of this."

He shook his head, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Don’t you dare to cry when you were the one who came up with this idea?”

Joel's words hit you like a punch to the gut, intensifying the ache of guilt and regret that had already weighed heavily on you. His anger was palpable, his frustration tangible, and you felt utterly defenseless in the face of his accusation.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you or anyone else."

His expression softened slightly, but the anger still smoldered in his eyes. "I know," he said, his voice gentler now. “I’m sorry for talking to you that way... It’s just... this girl; I haven’t felt this way about someone, and I don’t want to lose it because of you.”

Tension hung heavy in the air as Joel's words lingered between you. The raw honesty in his confession took you aback, softening the edges of your own guilt and remorse.

"I understand," you replied, your voice tinged with empathy. "I never intended to come between you and anyone else. I just wanted to do what was best for our companies."

Joel nodded, a sense of resignation settling over him. "I know," he murmured, his gaze drifting to the floor. "But we're in this mess now, and we need to figure out how to fix it."

You nodded in agreement, a shared determination filling the space between you. "We'll find a way," you promised, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. "Together."

As your hand made contact with Joel's arm, you both felt a sudden jolt of electricity shoot through the air, a tangible spark igniting between you. His gaze lifted from the floor to meet yours, and in that moment, you both sensed a shift in the atmosphere.

Joel's expression softened a flicker of something unreadable dancing in his eyes. For a brief moment, the world's weight seemed to lift from your shoulders as you stood there, connected by a string that threatened to pull the both of you together.

´+

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inkspiredwriting · 8 months ago

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Time Travel Tacos

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I started writing again after eight years, I've never uploaded my stories here on Tumblr before and that's why I'm a little scared. please tell me if you like it

Warnings: None

The day started like any other for Y/N. She was working the lunch shift at Tasty Tacos, the best taco stand in the city, and trying to keep up with the steady stream of customers. It was Taco Tuesday, which meant extra busy, but Y/N didn't mind. She liked the fast pace, the chatter of happy customers, and the smell of sizzling meat and fresh tortillas. What she didn't like was the sudden appearance of a disheveled teenager with a very serious expression standing in front of her.

"Hey, kid, you lost or something?" Y/N asked, glancing around to see if a concerned parent was nearby. The boy, who couldn't have been more than thirteen, although he had the aura of someone much older, stared at her with piercing blue eyes.

"Do I look lost to you?" he retorted, sounding both annoyed and world-weary.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're standing in front of a taco stand looking like you just crawled out of a time machine, so yeah, a little."

The boy sighed and rubbed his temples. "I'm Number Five. I'm from The Umbrella Academy. And no, I'm not lost. I'm exactly where I need to be."

"Uh-huh." Y/N tried to process the information. "Right. And I'm supposed to know what The Umbrella Academy is because...?"

Five looked at her like she had just asked him to explain quantum mechanics to a toddler. "It's not important. What is important is that I need your help."

"With what? A taco?"

"No," he said impatiently, "I need to borrow your taco stand."

Y/N blinked. "You need to borrow...my taco stand."

"Yes," Five said, as if this were the most reasonable request in the world.

"Why?"

He sighed again, clearly frustrated. "I don't have time to explain all the details, but let's just say I'm on a mission that involves saving the world, and right now, your taco stand is the best place to hide from some very dangerous people."

Y/N looked around. Her taco stand, with its cheerful red-and-yellow paint job and the happy chatter of customers, hardly seemed like a place for world-saving missions. But then again, she had never met anyone quite like this kid before.

"Okay," she said slowly. "So, you want to hide behind the counter or something?"

"Exactly." Five gave her a rare, small smile. "And I'll take a taco while I'm at it. Beef, extra spicy."

Y/N shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around the bizarre situation. "Fine, but if you get me in trouble with my boss, you're paying for all the tacos."

"Deal," Five said, already moving behind the counter with surprising agility for someone his size.

As Y/N prepared his taco, she couldn't help but ask, "So, you time travel and save the world, huh?"

"Pretty much," Five said, peeking out from behind a stack of tortilla boxes.

"Must be exhausting."

"You have no idea."

Y/N handed him the taco and watched as he devoured it in record time. "Good thing you've got tacos to keep you going."

Five looked at her, crumbs around his mouth. "You know, Y/N, if we do save the world, maybe I'll bring the team here for a celebratory meal. You might just have the best tacos in the entire timeline."

Y/N laughed. "I'll hold you to that, Number Five."

Just then, a group of men in dark suits and sunglasses appeared, scanning the area. Five ducked down lower, motioning for Y/N to keep quiet.

"Let me guess," she whispered. "Those are the dangerous people?"

Five nodded. "Yeah. And they do not appreciate good tacos."

Y/N smirked. "Their loss. Hang tight, I'll handle them."

She stepped out in front of the taco stand, greeting the men with her best customer service smile. "Hi there! Can I interest you in our special Taco Tuesday deal?"

The men exchanged confused glances. "We're looking for someone," one of them said.

"Well, I can assure you there's no one here but hungry customers. But how about a taco while you search? On the house."

The men hesitated, then grudgingly accepted. As they ate, Five slipped out the back, giving Y/N a grateful nod.

"Best tacos in the timeline," he mouthed before disappearing into the alley.

Y/N chuckled as she watched him go. "Just another day at Tasty Tacos," she muttered to herself. "Just another day."

#Five hargreeves imagines #Five Hargreeves x you #number five imagine #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader

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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year ago

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Azriel x reader: Peaches[*]

A/N: I have a request for some soft!dom Azriel in my inbox, so I’m kind of using this as a little bit of a practice run :)

Warnings: ass-eating and rimjob (m receiving), some light wing play, Az being a little mean in the beginning then softening out, slightly more sub!Az at the end

Word Count: 2,518

You can just imagine how good he would feel in your hands. And with the way he’s walking up the stairs, the plump and toned muscle of his ass wrapped up tight in leathers…

His wings twitch, shadows undulating and he stops at the top of the stairs, turning to look at you over his shoulder, two plates of food in his hands, leaving you to carry the drinks. “I can feel your eyes on me, you know,” he remarks with a raised brow. You flush, having been caught.

“Oops,” you say, grinning as you walk past him, “guess my gaze slipped.” He snorts, shadows pinching your ass as you strut by, making you yelp. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, wishing you had a free hand to rub the sore skin. He gives you a panty-dropping grin, pissing you off just enough to have you kicking the door shut on him once you get in your bedroom.

He chuckles from the other side, shadows reopening the door while you set the glasses down. “Someone in a poor mood because she got caught eyeing me up?” He drawls, the smirk clear in his voice.

“I was not eyeing you up!” You snap, crossing your arms over your chest in a way that plumps your tits. His attention drops appreciatively, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. When his eyes return to yours, they’re a little darker, and you know he marks the roll of your throat.

“Please,” he purrs, setting the plates down on the bedside table. “You were looking at me like how Cassian looks at beef jerky.” His grin turns a little feral, “like you wanted to sink your teeth into me.” Heat blossoms across your lower body as he pin points the exact intent with which you had been staring at him.

Still, you raise your chin, looking down your nose at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

————

You know you’ve been staring at his ass all day.

How could you not? It’s so plump, and—and round, and…you’re actually salivating.

He hasn’t been giving you a break, wearing those leathers first thing in the morning until the last thing at night. He has to know what it does to you. Which means, he’s teasing you. You grown inwardly, knowing how your mate can be when it comes to denying your wants for his own pleasure. He’s probably enjoying this opportunity to get back at you for that one time, and the objective side of your mind knows it’s well-deserved. Still.

“What’s going on in that dumb, little mind of yours, pet?”

Arousal slams into you, knees nearly buckling at the rough timbre of his voice. You manage to keep yourself strong, refusing to allow that whimper to slip from your lips. “Where did you sneak up from?” You ask, and even to your own ears, you sound a little hoarse. His lips twitch, pressing his front into your back as he tips your chin upward, so he can look down at you properly. His hand practically swallows your throat, just holding, lightly.

“I thought I’d check in on my wife,” he drawls, and you feel the male satisfaction as the title slips smoothly from his tongue. His wife. He’d been just as obnoxious when the two of you had accepted the mating bond, calling you nothing but his mate for months on end. “See how she’s faring with these miserable chores that her miserable husband is forcing her to do.” His eyes gleam as your spine arches almost imperceptibly, his hips pushing tighter into your rear.

“He is quite miserable, isn’t he?” You murmur back. “Always denying me my fun.”

Azriel’s hands settle at your waist, spinning you around so you’re attention is fully on him—not the cleaned laundry you were folding. “And what fun are you after, wife?” He asks, hands grazing up the sides of your body until he’s cupping your cheeks, squishing them ever so lightly.

Warmth flushes your skin, but you lean into him. Your eyes flutter shut, his heat seeping into you as you allow your fingers to brush his forearms, travelling to his biceps, settling on the muscled edge of his ribs before grazing down. Your hands move over his waist, snaking around his back, descending past his hips, and—

You yelp when shadows bat your hands away, so close to finally, finally feeling him. Your eyes fly open, immediately locking on his own heated gaze, colour dusting his cheeks, canines digging into his lower lip as he watches you with an intensity that makes your legs want to fall open.

“Has no one ever taught you manners, pet?” He asks, hand sliding down to your waist while the other tilts your jaw upwards. “Ask before you touch.”

“I need permission to touch what’s mine?” You retort quietly, hunger blazing in the pit of your belly. You can scent his own arousal grow in response, grip biting into your soft skin.

His grin turns feline as he drags you closer to him, mouth brushing over your own, forcing you up onto your tiptoes, “you want more than just to touch, though, don��t you?”

————

You’re so worn out. So tired, and so ready for bed.

Between Azriel’s teasing, your job, and your own damned mind, you think you might be going crazy. The few dreams you’ve managed to keep with waking from sleep have consisted mostly of fruits…phallic and…peachy. He would never let you live it down if he knew even your subconscious was goading you to him.

You think your knees might actually collapse when you make it to your shared bedroom.

He’s sprawled across the mattress, a thin sheet covering his lower half, wings splayed gorgeously over the bed. His hair’s slightly damp, curled at the ends from the shower, and his skin looks warm, and healthy, and delicious. Marvellously firm with muscle.

Azriel doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading as your bags drop to the floor and you make a soft sound of disbelief and hunger in the back of your throat. And then you’re clumsily stumbling forward, crawling onto the bed, easing yourself between his sheet-covered legs. Falling onto your front, pressing yourself onto his ass like it’s the comfiest pillow you’ve ever come across.

It’s only then he shifts, peering over his shoulder, and you can practically imagine the smug grin on his lovely mouth seeing you finally give in. You suppose it’s not like you made a secret of your desire, but still…

Arousal builds across your body, hunger finally breaking you as you lift, prowling up his figure. He looks like he’s about to get up, so you swing your legs over his hips, keeping him pinned to the mattress. You know he could easily lift you with him, but he settles back down, a sound like a purr rumbling from his chest.

“You’re being rather dominant, wife,” he drawls, shifting so he’s comfy. You snarl softly, fed up with his teasing, setting your hands between his shoulder blades, then running them lightly to the base of one of his wings. His muscles shift and contract beneath you, rippling as your fingers skate up lightly.

The tension seeps from him as you reach the dip beneath the first joint of the powerful limb. His skin heats and a quiet groan spills from his lips, needful and soft. It’s so rare something like this happens, but it seems he’s had a long day, too, and is ready to be taken care of. You couldn’t be more relieved. Dread to think how things would have gone if he’d had the energy or the will to deny you any longer. He seems to get off of refusing your pleasure, sometimes.

You shift closer, so you’re straddling his upper back, rolling your hips down languidly from time to time, basking in the slow build of warmth. Slow, because you both have the time to indulge. Slow, because you’re in no rush. Slow, because you have all the time in the world and right now, you want it with each other. To find pleasure in the other’s body.

Leaning forward, you attach your open mouth to the ridge of his wing and he shudders, a deep, drawn-out moan purring into the silence. The sound urges your hips to roll down a little harder, basking in the delicious and firm press of hot muscle beneath you. Teeth nip, and your fingers graze those spots you’ve had memorised since the first time he’d allowed you the pleasure of touching him like that. It’s rare enough he lets you look after him, rarer still he accepts direct comfort to his wings.

You’re not sure how comfortable he is with that vulnerability. You’re mated, married, and joined in every way that counts, but you’re not going to pretend that you share absolutely everything with one another. There are still times the two of you will just sit in silence, mentally recovering from whatever trials have gotten you down that day. Plenty of times where you’ll spend a few hours apart, just to get out of the house. And it’s wonderful that way. To be comfortable enough to trust and know someone will to come back to you even after you’ve put a line in the sand…

Your tongue flicks out, dragging up the dip of bone, grazing over the powerful muscle that flexes beneath your tongue. His breath catches softly, and you pull away. Groans roughly as he falls away from the edge, but doesn’t fight for it, content to enjoy the edge.

Pulling back, you brush your thumb once more over the sensitive skin of his wing, and a sharp breath exhales from his lips. You shuffle down his body, pushing away the sheets as you go, leaving him entirely bare for you. It takes every ounce of willpower he’s instilled in you over the years to keep from pushing his legs apart right then and there and moving your mouth to your pleasure—hopefully his, too.

Instead, you tap his hip twice, lightly, then grip his side, urging him to roll over. He sighs, but turns obediently, knowing it will benefit him in the long run, wings pulling in tight as he switches onto his back. Then your mouth is opening over him, tongue flicking over the bead of moisture nestled in the slit of his tip.

Azriel moans softly, back arching as colour dusts his cheeks, fingers gently threading through your hair, raising his hips. You press a kiss to his tip, licking up the underside of him, watching as his eyes flutter closed and those quiet sounds of pleasure start becoming more regular.

He tugs lightly on your hair, and you take him into your mouth, hand gripping his base as you pump what you can’t fit. He hisses with pleasure, brow furrowing then evening out as he rolls his hips upward, gasping softly when your throat contracts around him. Again, you pull up to his tip, hand stroking him firmly but not roughly—not this time. You flick your tongue once again over his slit, pressing another kiss down, before you’re urging his bent legs further apart.

A slightly startled moan slips from his lip as you press your mouth low on his inner thigh, working closer to where you want to please him from—giving him the chance to stop you if he doesn’t yet want to try it. But his skin is warm and clean, smelling distinctly of soap and himself, and your mouth is watering.

His spine arches as your tongue circles the tight ring of muscle, flicking over then pulling away to kiss the surrounding area. His hand has released your hair in favour of the bedsheets, fingers gripping hard as you continue pumping him. He twitches, and you pull up, giving more attention to his cock.

Azriel’s shadows have joined you, grazing over his inner wing with silky softness, helping you work him to the steadily budding orgasm that will leave him hot and trembling. The darkness flicks over his gleaming chest, swirling over his nipples, making him pant. His eyes are still closed, plush lower lip caught between his teeth and you again dip down, pleased with his reactions.

You circle the tight muscle again, pumping a little harder, moving in time with the gentle roll of his hips. Your tongue pushes inside, and you hear him inhale sharply, bucking into your hand. He’s close, and now that you’ve again gotten him to the edge, you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

How could you, knowing he’s receiving pleasure everywhere he can be? In all those intimate, sensitive areas?

Your tongue flicks over him again as you squeeze him deliciously, just the right side of painful. His shadows flick and swirl, and a deep, rich moan is pulled from between his lips, spine arching enough to tip his head back into the plush pillows. He twitches again before he releases, hips bucking in time with the waves of pleasure, hot cum spilling from his tip, spurting up onto the firm planes of his toned stomach. You keep pumping until his hips begin stuttering, and then you’re easing your pace, softening your grip as he becomes infinitely more sensitive.

When he’s done, thighs trembling, panting softly into the sex-tinted air, you raise from between his legs. Lick your lips when you see the mess he’s made of himself: hot, milky liquid gleaming on the sweat-slicked muscles of his stomach, shifting and glistening in the light with his breathing. The perfect dessert.

You crawl forward slowly, careful not to ruffle him too much, tongue lolling out as you begin lapping up the creamy liquid. His hand again finds your hair, stroking gently as you hum, drinking him up. It’s only when you’re certain you’ve licked up every drop of him that you prowl up his body, until you’re on top of him.

He’s still flushed, and offers you a lazy smile that sings songs of his satisfaction. “And here I had just gotten out of my shower,” he murmurs over your up-tilted lips. You smile gently, enjoying him being the one fully naked, for once, “I’ll change the covers tomorrow, husband.”

Azriel smiles up at you, lifting his head from the pillows as he brings your mouth down to his own, soft lips slanting over your own, tasting himself on you. He groans quietly, shadows and fingers already working deftly to remove your clothes. As soon as they’re gone, and you’re gloriously bare, he’s pulling you down on him, hot skin pressing flush together.

His shadows hook beneath the sheets, pulling them up and to cover once his wings have curled over you, keeping you tucked into his chest. The heat and warmth quickly lulls you to sleep, the two of you pulled under in a matter of minutes. Breathing deepening and evening out as you fall together, wrapped in each other’s scent and warmth.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming

#Azriel #Azriel smut #soft!azriel #Azriel fluff #sub!azriel #Azriel x reader smut #Azriel x reader fluff #Shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger #October

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on-tracks-and-playlists · 3 months ago

Text

Seventeen as F1 drivers I grew up watching….

S.coups. Max verstappen

There's just something about S.coups' and Max's aura that gives ✨MAJESTIC✨. I have NEVER seen a bigger pet dad than these two. You know how Max broke the wooden door of his storeroom because his cat was stuck inside and he couldn't open it from outside, I bet Seungcheol will pull some similar kind of shit if it's for Kumma. One thing that just makes sense about both of them- GIRL DAD- we already have a glimpse of girl-dad Max when he takes care of Penelope but I love how Caratland has collectively announced that Seungcheol IS A GIRL DAD. Both of them have their own principles but will not follow the instructions given if anything crosses them. They are both the type you would benefit from not having a beef with, 'cause they are difficult to handle when triggered. I don't know why the internet just keeps on bashing Seungcheol and Max as the scariest and most emotionally unavailable person, when they are the pookiest bears u will ever meet- like how Max reassured Lando that he is capable of bigger things everytime Lando doubts himself and how Seungcheol always guides his members through the tough times seventeen has had. They care and sympathise for those they cherish.

Jeonghan. Nico Rosberg

Britanny Spear. Goldilocks. Rapunzel… Whoever is known for their luscious golden locks… Add these two to the list. One tributing to seventeen other to formula one. The funny thing is, despite the fans absolutely adoring the look on Jeonghan, he doesn't like having long hair because of how high maintenance it is and it troubles while performing… just the same way Nico doesn't appreciate being called Britney because, well it's self-explanatory ig. Being the leader of the tiredz line I think Jeonghan always searches for the easiest and fastest way to get the job done… And once done he will not waste a second to go back home. This behavior of Jeonghan is giving the same energy as how Nico won his first (and only) drivers' championship, got his name written in the history of world champions, and retired...for the comfort of his family. Always stirring drama, we all know how Jeonghan is famous for creating chaos and drama within seventeen, and ever since Nico became an f1 reporter (or commentator idk the word for it) I think he's been doing the same, stirring drama.... interviewing Lewis in Spain the very circuit the famous brocedes crashed will forever be gold to me... him taking selfie in front of Lewis' garage to give him the "Rosberg curse"... Yeah I miss both my blonde icons 😭😭

Joshua Sebastian Vettel

40% Kind, 30% flirt, 80%patience, 50%Maniac... (they are both twice the man anyone can ever be) Joshua and Sebastian are both the definition of kids well raised… The gentlemen of the group always take care of others. Making sure everyone is comfortable and comforted, they will make sure the grid and members are well fed. The gentlemen who protects the ladies and ends up rizzing them. The gentlemen who acts innocent knowing very well they have the rizz to charm the person in front, and have succeeded in doing so. Istg both of them are such big flirts…. if they are not being straight while flirting they are being gay and flirting with men. Both of them give the energy of cool uncles you would love to spend your summer break with… but your parents are kinda scared to leave you with them; not because they don't trust Josh and Sebastian but because of all the shenanigans that will go down while you are together. Well most accurate of it all is the crazy chaotic side they share, and I know I don't need to explain this to yall… My baby boos no body hurt them istg I WILL throw hands…. They are both very dear to me. Everyone is a Seb Vettel fan, even if you think you are not, you are a Seb Vettel fan. and I think the same for our gentle sexy Josh, you just can't come close to disliking him let alone hate... and if you do, you should cease to exist.

Jun. Alex Albon

Georgie Pooh's best friend. They are both goofballs that everyone absolutely adores. You trouble them and their bf (George and Minghao) are ready to wrestle you down. Have the most innocent face and smile in the group, but don't be fooled by the looks they are both just hidden menaces in disguise sometimes. The most random person you would ever come to know... people might argue that Hoshi and Lando are much more random... and I agree, yes they are, but it's how we expect them to be random that makes it less random almost as if we are anticipating that from Lando and Hoshi but with Jun and Alex it nearly fun cause we DO NOT expect that. WE DO NOT expect a 26-year-old Jun to just randomly come over and start mimicking an old lady in the middle of someone else's conversation. WE DO NOT EXPECT 27-year-old Alex to (try to) make the hardest track and just end up drawing a snail on the paper AND name the track RAIL THE SNAIL. It's just this randomness that makes them funny for me. Physically I don't think either of them can hurt a fly, but mentally, oh boy they will leave a scar on you by their sarcastic choice of words. All in all, you just can't NOT LIKE either of them.

Hoshi. Lando Norris

Literal ChAOs of the pack. Hoshi comes with a 'HANDLE WITH CARE' label on himself, just like Lando. You never know when their hyperactive mode will turn on. They need a lot of love and care to function properly. GIVE! THEM! ATTENTION! IT DOESN'T MATTER IF U ARE OLDER THAN THEM OR NOT. As I mentioned above RANDOM AS HELL. If it feels right they will say and do THE MOST RANDOM stuff, completely out of context…(que to Lando randomly blurting ✨B U N D A✨ in that one interview). Do you remember that one interview where Hoshi says 'I buy all, I eat all and then I regret all' THAT IS LANDO. I feel like they are both the type to not listen to you while you are instructing them to not do something hazardous, and then blame you for not stopping or warning them after the deed's done. If F1 had its own BSS...lando would definately be a part of it. On the contrary to this, their professional selves are very competitive and intimidating. Both Lando and Hoshi are very result oriented and mostly tend to be a little tough on themselves, and resultingly also towards people around them.

Wonwoo. Oscar piastri

We have two calm cuties in the building here, both of them radiating cat energy. They will very diligently serve the polite cat face. Lowkey hilarious. Both of them have such a dry sense of humor it is exactly my type. They have a very high intellect and definitely a big thesaurus. Oscar is always out there helping Lando's dyslexic ass figure out words he cant pronounce or spell and then we have Kim Mingyu, mentioning in that going seventeen episode of insomnia, that Wonwoo uses smartass words. In my eyes, it's the introvert in them, that finds it difficult to be able to express themselves. But once with the correct person/ people, oh boy there's no stopping them. Wonwoo and Oscar both have a very mysterious vibe to them which is... well very attractive. AND I cant exaggerate enough how cute they both are.

Woozi. Lewis Hamilton

The GREATEST OF ALL TIMES. There's a reason why we call Woozi the god of music, and that's because of his unbeatable records and talents in his career, just like Sir Hamilton. They both started young and are here to stay long and honestly, they achieved the point at where they will stay forever in the names of K-pop and F1. They both have a very dedicated and fun approach towards their carrer. One thing I can not exaggerate enough is how both Woozi and Lewis laugh gives me comfort. It's just how freely they laugh out loud, full HAHAHA, is special to me. Both of them are very well secure in themselves and know the impact they have. I love my short kings.

The8. George Russell

As I said above… Alobono's bestie. Material gworl. THE MEME. Both of them are crazy. 🤩CRAZY🤪. Personally, they both seem to be the types to judge their peers, for quite a long time… And then join the shenanigans… Although they act questionable too they just brush it off (or at least try to) by being cool. They are ✨SASSY✨ and that's a F A C T. It's beautiful how they always keep their fans in mind and have the most adorable and iconic moments with them. Like George's interaction with the little Singapore fan wearing the George T-pose shirt and this interaction in Singapore again and we can not forget that fan call with Myungho where the carat showed him a gaint frog and he just was surprised, shocked and trying not to laugh. Both of them have a beautiful taste in fashion. Old Money. Georg as your Old Money CEO vibes and the8 as your Old Money Mafia vibe(your view might be different idk). Their face economy is high on the scale. Literal definition of angel face demonic acts. George is our "chiseled angel" and Myungho is our "Chinese prince".

Mingyu. Oliver Bearman

Big baby trapped in an even bigger body. We all know that Mingyu is famous for being a muscular beanpole, but Ollie is also a handsome lampost, like 185 cm for the driver, no jokes. If golden retriever was a person it would be them, both of them hold their hearts on the sleeves. Very, and I say, very optimistic with their surroundings. They have a very play full personality, which I am hoping to see more from Oliver in Haas. Collecting fans left and right, everywhere they go. Mingyu absolutely basks in the fame and love his fans shower and I can see Oliver absorbing the adoration he receives, not just from his grid parents but from the whole F1 community. They are beautifully loved and it just shows in how well they treat their fans and people around them. I love the family dynamics in the Kim family and the Bearman family. There is love, comfort, mischief and a lot of support for their son's career. Highlight of it all would be Ollie's dad worried over his 18-year-old son's debut f1 race. They have both the best performance duality, one second u will see Mingoo and Ollie, and the moment you blink, boom, Kim Mingyu slaying the stage and Oliver Bearman showing no mercy in the race.

Dk. Daniel Riccardo

Big eyes, big nose, big smile, big personality. Danny will deffo be pt. 2 of BSS. These two are everybody's fantasy man. Honestly (pls don't come at me for saying this) I am neither a DK bias nor is Danielle my fav driver, but, they just have the kind of personality that draws you in and makes you want to know more about them. And then you fall in love with them and there's no undo for both of them once you fall. Always loud. Fucking loud. Everything they do is LOUD. But they are never loud alone, they always have a companion in their shenanigans. The sunshine. The happy virus. The energy boost of the group. But they come with their own hardships which usually go unnoticed. Even with the insane vocals DK usually struggles while recording and starts questioning his choice of career (ngl I kinda find it funny sometimes, not like I am laughing tho, it must be difficult for them), and well Danny has had a fare share in difficult times with his career. It's crazy how a lot of people just forget that they are insanely handsome just because they are super goofy. I think it for the better to stay this way cause if the people were to find their beauty, it would be the end of the world.

Seungkwan. Carlos Sainz Jr

For sure BSS part 3 will be Carlos. Social butterfly, is literally besties with everyone, everywhere. What makes it better is that Seungkwan and Carlos both, just adapt to the people around them, never letting them feel alone and always having a welcoming smile… we can't forget how Papa Sainz adopts the drivers just like Seungkwan adopting younger idols. ends up resorting to violence if things don't go their way, i.e. Seungkwan's famous flying kick sent Hoshi's way and Carlos pushing Charles and Lando off the chair every time during the team challenges. You can catch them anywhere, one moment you will see Carlos racing and you open Twitter to find him giving the trophies to Moto GP winners with his father, the same as SeungKwan is on every show you can think of co-hosting, as a mentor or just for promotion. If elegance met chaos it would be Carlos and Seungkwan. they are both very well celebrated and idolised in their domain; both well celebrated in Spain and Jeju respectively.

Vernon. Fernando Alonso

What I think is fascinatingly alike in both of them is that neither act their age. They are mentally in their preeteen(probably younger for vernon, coz he a baby) and it is very visible in how seventeen treats and Pampers Vernon and Alonso's little banters on the team radio (which I absolutely love btw). Hopefully both of them remain youthful forever. No thoughts head empty just thinking about vernon in going seventeen episodes and aonso in post race interviews. How they keep their faces straight most of the time while doing the randomest thingsHalf of the time they are just wondering wtf is wrong with the team and the other time they are confused why they even get involved in the weird team antics, ALL THE WHILE FULLY BEING PRESENT IN THE TEAM DRAMA. DW they love their team, ig. Alonso's little dancey dance celebration for race wins when he was with Renault reminds me of Vernon's clap freestyle dance breaks during concerts, totally random but completely their style. Vernon did a lot of side quests before becoming seventeen just like alonso when he took a break from F1 by joining rally…. And let's not forget they will both be amazing Gen z social media influencers.

Dino. Franco Colapinto

When I see these two I see youth and talent… One is the future of K-pop and the other one, I can definitely see being the future of Formula One… it's been only a few races Franco has been on the grid and I can see him being very dedicated towards his team and his performance. The slightest mistake and he will be pushing himself through for not being better, unsatisfied with his output. Exactly how Dino pushes himself to the limits and beyond, he would do anything to keep his team in the best spirits. It breaks my heart to see them being upset OR unsatisfied with the performance when they couldn't have served better. Both my youngsters have a very sassy humor. Dino has opted to this as a coping mechanism towards his 12 hyungs, well franco I find really funny during post race interviews like this interview where he called the alpines 'FRENCHS' cause he was salty they stole his well deserved fasted lap. ✨PURE GOLD✨. I am always looking forward to them serving on stage and on track, they never disappoint fr.

SPECIAL MENTION (I was just lowkey conflicted while choosing the matches for members and I feel like I need to mention these two because they are equally accurate i feel) KIM MINGYU AS CHARLES LECLERC

THE person everyone wants...Golden Boy who is loved by everyone... literally everyone's fav, and also the person with the weirdest luck... a tad bit too optimistic with their surroundings I feel... debuted with insane talent but got famous for their insane visuals first, talent second. another hyperactive personality duo of svt and f1.

WOOZI AS YUKI TSUNODA

Pocket sized. Little fierce devil in the guise of a cute hamster. They are known for their sharp use of vocabulary ones during lyrics writing and others on the radio. there's this little mischievous kid in them that always stays well kept but manages to pop out eventually. has that one most famous ship (yukierre and soonhoon).

a/n: I swear to God it has been in my drafts for a painfully long time. I tried to keep it as close to their personalities as I could find. I hope you guys enjoyed it any asks or recommendations are open <(●'◡'●)

tag list(open) @ssentimentals @magical-oppas

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etherealising · 9 months ago

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idk how request, I hope you understand ^^

could you do one about michael and baby having their cute moments but carmy misunderstanding everything?

english is not my first language, sorry 😭😭

in the arms of another

a/n: bestie i promise your english is just fine please don’t apologize. also i’m sending you all the internet kisses for this request because i’ve missed writing baby x mikey content so much!!! maybe not as cute as you may have wanted but i still hope you enjoy! 🫶🏽

wc: 4.3k (what can i say, i missed them)

You lost Carmy in the crowd mere moments after collecting your diploma, part of you couldn’t seem to care considering how rocky things became between the two of you but you were also a bit overwhelmed with the amount of your classmates who kept stopping to share in the success that was graduating high school.

Most of the people you stopped to take pictures with had rarely ever spoken to you during the 4 years you shared, considering the occasion you hadn’t minded the first couple of pictures you stopped for, but now you were ready to find your mom and the Berzattos and leave.

It was a few moments more before you heard the familiar drawl of Richie’s voice, he was always loud and you never appreciated that more than in this moment. You spun around a few times to try and spot him, finding the whole group of people standing a few ways off, Carmy had better luck than you did seeing as he was already standing there getting congratulations from every which way.

Smiling you began making your way through the other families apologizing along the way as accidentally bumped into people. Mikey was the first person to spot your approach, his eyes finding yours over Carmy’s head as he spoke to him. The wide smile took over your face instantaneously his own seeming to match yours, you picked up the pace trying to reach him as soon as possible.

Your hand raised in an excited wave, Mikey’s returning wave caused Carmy to turn as well a small smile growing on his face the closer you got to them, his hand raising in a shy wave as you approached. You hadn’t given Carmy a second glance as you brushed past him to leap into Mikey’s awaiting arms.

Carmy tried not to let the hurt show on his face as you ignored his presence, Mikey spun you around in his arms the sounds of your melodic laugh mixed with Mikey’s rough one felt like the only thing he could hear. He did his best to keep the smile on his face, ignoring the apologetic look Nat sent his way by bending down to pick up your cap that fell to the ground from all the excitement.

He hated to admit it but he understood the cold shoulder you were adamant on giving him. After that day at The Beef things were never the same, upon returning to Claire he’d tried his best to shut down whatever was transpiring between them but couldn’t allow himself to break two hearts in one day. And while he was doing his best to spare Claire’s feelings all it did was push you into the arms of his brother.

The more you distanced yourself from Carmy, the more time you spent with Mikey. Carmy tried to convince himself there was nothing untoward going on between the two of you but between the quiet laughter and the shared jokes he was beginning to feel paranoid. And now he stood there like a loser watching his best friend, the only person he ever wanted to share his joy with again, cling to his older brother like a lifeline.

You squealed as Mikey roughly set you back on the ground, hands falling to his biceps as you smiled at him. “Don’t tell me you shaved for a little graduation ceremony.” One of your hands settling against the slight stubble on his cheek.

Mikey’s response was mute to your ears as rough hands gripped your head, the smell of Richie’s cologne invaded your senses as he began plastering chaste kisses all over your face, one hand removing its grip as he raised a disposable camera to snap a picture of the two of you,

The sound of Nat’s annoyed sigh reached your ears as she shoved her way between you and Richie a look of disgust on her face at Richie’s overdramatic display of affection. “You grew up so fast Baby,” Her arms pulled you into a gentle hug against her chest the two of you rocking back and forth in each other’s arms before she pulled back the proud smile on her face telling you all you needed to know. “We need pictures though.” She gave a soft pat to your backside as you walked away to find your mom and aunt.

You gathered with your small family for pictures, wiping your mom's tears of joy as the three of you posed together. You did your best to hold your tears at bay, thankful your mom was still around to enjoy this moment with you. You felt a bit resigned as your aunt stepped out of frame after a few shots, watching silently as she motioned good-naturedly for Carmen to take her place.

Things between the two of you were the weirdest they’d ever been, with the whole prom debacle a few weeks ago you made it your mission to be alone with him as little as possible. He stepped towards you eyes everywhere but your face, the tension between the two of you was obvious but thankfully everyone ignored it in the same way you did.

It was hard to feel any resentment towards him as he tentatively reached up, his hands delicately fixing your dropped cap atop your head. You sent him a small smile before turning to face the camera, a genuine smile coming to your face.

Rounds of photos later, each with a different participant and you were almost begging to leave, but the sound of Donna’s voice rang through your ears. “Just Bear and Baby now! Our two high-school graduates where’d the fucking time go.”

You couldn’t say no to Donna, and even if you did it's not like you had a believable reason as to why you didn’t want to be pictured alone with Carmy. The two of you got in position next to each other, neither of you moving to bridge the space between the two of you, both deciding to don awkward poses holding up your diplomas.

“Oh c’mon act like you love each other!” The words were mumbled through a cigarette but you knew Donna expected more from the two of you.

A reluctant sigh left you as you stepped closer to Carmy arm brushing his. You looked in his direction for a moment rolling your eyes at the blush on his cheeks. You reached out forcefully handing him your diploma as you fixed his uneven stole. You locked eyes, your heart speeding up just by staring at him, of course, you were still hurt by his actions but you couldn’t deny the soft spot you’d always have for him.

The urge to caress his cheek surged through you, but instead, you carefully took your diploma from his grip. Your hand fell to wrap around his as a small sincere smile rose to your lips, “I’m proud of you Carm.” The words were softly spoken between the two of you, you sent him one last smile before turning back for the last few pictures.

The backyard of the Berzatto family household was overrun with disposable cups and plates scattered around the various folding tables. A surprise graduation party for you and Carmy took place there after the ceremony, though most everybody had cleared out by now the backyard relatively empty.

You stumbled your way to the backyard after seeing Hayden off, soft giggles escaping you every few minutes or so. You’d spent the party socializing mostly with The Beef family and friends, a few of Carmy’s family members, and neighbors who’d joined the celebration, Claire and Hayden joined the party after some time with their own families. The night was mostly spent explaining your plans for college a hundred times over to all the curious adults who’d offered various forms of unsolicited advice.

Richie had been your saving grace though as he’d offered you drinks sporadically throughout the night he reasons that you deserved to celebrate. He’d cut you off before things got too far lecturing you about how Mikey and your mom would kill him if he got you drunk. So you spent the remainder of your night slightly tipsy enjoying yourself more than you probably would have.

The poisonous liquid even opened you up to spending time around Carmy. You knew he’d had a drink of his own but you weren’t sure if he continued like you had. But what sent you over the edge was the joint Hayden brought that the two of you snuck away to smoke. You’d had your fair share of drinks but you’d never been high before, and while all it seemed to do at first was make you a giggly mess, you found that you now had trouble getting your limbs to work properly.

You made your way safely to the backyard by placing your hand on the gate and following its path, eyes glued to the dirt beneath your sandals incessant giggles leaving you. The path illuminated as you stepped through the garden gate. You spotted Mikey and Richie moving around the backyard trash bags in hand as they cleaned up.

“You guysss.” Even to your ears, your voice didn’t sound like your own, your words drawn out the tone more high pitched.

More giggles escaped you as you began trying to skip over to the older men, whatever control over your equilibrium completely gone as your legs gave out knees connecting with the dirt, hands doing little to stop your fall as your body met the ground.

You didn’t even bother lifting yourself, instead rolling over as full belly laughs wracked your body, the lack of oxygen to your brain extending your high. You could feel someone tugging at your arms trying to pull you off the ground, laughs worsening tenfold as you felt like a rag doll gravity keeping your dead weight on the ground as hands fought to pull you up.

“Hey c’mon get up.” At the sound of Mikey’s voice, you let out an excited squeal finally helping him.

Mikey stumbled as you energetically rose arms tightly wrapping around his neck, head leaning into his chest as you divulged into another spell of giggles. You allowed him to gently remove your arms from around his neck taking a step back to check you a whispered curse leaving him as he motioned for Richie.

You tuned their voices out hands moving to try and play with Mikey’s hair, the inky tendrils were mesmerizing under the fairy lights, and you pouted as Mikey kept dodging your assault.

“Why the fuck do you smell like weed?” Mikey’s question stole your attention, your eyes darting between him and Richie a sly smile gracing your face as you raised your index finger to your lips in a shushing motion before you began to lose your balance once more but the firm almost harsh grip on your bicep steadied you. “Are you fucking high right now? Was it that fuckin’ loser who’s always on your ass?”

You scoffed at Mikey a sneer taking over your features, “Are you?” The backyard was silent, Richie stood watching the scene play out uncomfortably before your laughter started up once again. You weren’t privy to the hurt that flashed across Mikey’s face before he led you to sit down, kneeling in front of you to check out your scrapped-up knees. You watched on in silence gently swaying back and forth as you hummed.

Carmy walked into the kitchen to find Richie rummaging around as he quietly cursed to himself, the sound of Carmy’s footsteps alerted him to his presence, “Yo where the fuck is the first aid kit?” The anger in Richie’s voice confused Carmy as he shrugged deciding to help him look.

“Dunno, what’d ya need it for?” Carmy couldn’t pretend to know how Donna organized everything in the house, the only thing he had free reign over was his bedroom.

Richie slammed a cabinet in frustration, “Baby’s fucking high, probably drunk too. I don’t know why she hangs around that stupid fucking kid he’s bad news.”

Carmy frowned, he remembered watching you wander off somewhere with Hayden but he couldn’t remember you coming back and maybe he got you high, but Richie was the one who allowed you to drink in the first place so the blame was equally his. “Is she okay, why do we need the first-aid kit? And why the fuck did you even let her drink in the first place.” Carmy’s head swam with negative thoughts.

Richie stopped his search hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose the last thing he needed was Carmy and his fucking teenage angst being misguided towards him. Richie knew he shouldn’t have allowed you to drink as much as you did, but he didn’t see a problem with it considering it was supervised, how the fuck was he supposed to know you’d run off and get high. Before Richie could give the youngest Berzatto a piece of his mind his phone began to ring, the chime he designated for Tiff rang through his ears. He let out a quiet sigh as he dug his phone out of his pocket.

“Find the fuckin’ first aid kit and take it outside to Mikey.” Carmy’s eyes followed the direction Richie pointed his hand in before walking off. Eyes landing on you and Mikey, the older man settled in front of you on bended knee hand carefully massaging into your calf as he looked over your knee, your head raised to the night sky a smile of bliss on your lips.

You gazed up at the sky wondering what it must feel like to be a star, a feeling of contentment washing over you the longer you stared up at them. After a while, your head lulled to the side before your eyes found Mikey body still kneeling in the dirt before you.

“Mikey,” you waited as he let out a soft hum, his fingers carefully digging the pebble out of the skin of your knee. “Will you dance with me?”

Mikey let out a sigh, his earlier annoyance washed away the longer he realized you were safe, that even though you were crossfaded you still had the mind to return to him. He rose, knees thankful to be out of the kneeling position as he held his hand out to you to indulge your desire.

You stood on shaky legs allowing the older man to guide you to the center of the backyard, the only thing you could do in your inebriated state was sway back and forth, the weightlessness of your body forcing Mikey to guide the both of you. All was quiet, your cheek found purchase on Mikey’s chest at some point, and the sound of his heartbeat lulled you into a sense of calmness.

The night air was warm as the two of you swayed for what felt like an eternity, your hands moved from their place around Mikey’s waist to tightly wrap around his neck, eyes finding his. “Why doesn’t Carmy love me the way I love him?”

Mikey frowned unsure of what to say, you still looked gone out of your mind. A smile still playing on your lips, but the question you asked him was the direct opposite of every feeling present on your face. “Baby,” a tired sigh left him. “You’re kids, you’ve got your whole life to figure this shit out.”

You laughed, nothing Mikey said was funny you just couldn’t stop the urge to laugh at every little thing. Your fingers began unconsciously playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, for as long as you’d known Mikey you hadn’t realized just how handsome he was. You knew he attracted plenty of people but you’d never given much thought to it until now, seeing his face glow under the fairy lights.

Mikey’s side profile lit up showing off his chiseled jaw, his eyes roaming the back door trying to figure out what the fuck was taking Richie so long to find the first-aid kit.

After minutes of searching, Carmy finally decided to grab the first-aid kit from the guest bathroom before returning to the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks just as he made it to the back door fingers tightly gripping the plastic in his hand as he watched you and Mikey in the center of the backyard, eyes wide heart beating rapidly in his chest.

Carmy’s eyes moved from Mikey’s hands on your waist, to your hands wrapped around his neck fingers in his freshly trimmed hair before his eyes landed on the way your lips seemed to find solace against the oldest Berzatto’s.

He couldn’t stand to look at the two of you any longer, his feet leading him back into the kitchen carelessly dropping the first-aid kit to the counter as his hands gripped the marble. His mind raced with all the ways he might have imagined what he had just seen. He did his best to ignore the sound of Richie’s voice as he finally returned, his grating Chicago accent asking about the stupid fucking first-aid kit before snatching it off the counter himself and moving to exit the house.

“Oh…shit.” Carmy had never thought in all his years of knowing Richie that the man was capable of whispering, but as he stood there trying to convince himself he’d made the whole scene up he knew it was null and void from Richie’s reaction alone.

Carmy moved back into the shadow of the kitchen as the back door opened, your quiet giggles filtering through his ears as you entered the house, a soft ‘goodnight Richie’ followed as you walked past him to head wherever you were going. Carmy watched you make your way to the stairs, his hands shaking as he tried to get a hold of his anger, the sight of you tripping up the stairs a catalyst for the damn that held his emotions back.

Without a second thought, he pushed past Richie making his way outside to find Mikey sitting down, head in his hands. “You robbing the fucking cradle now huh?” He ignored Richie’s plea to calm down not even wanting to be around either of these two fucking losers.

Mikey raised his head exhaustion clear on his face, “Go to bed Carmy.” His tone was dismissive as he stood from his position to continue his cleaning.

The casual way Mikey ignored him pissed Carmy off even more, “Why the fuck would you kiss her Mikey? What the fuck is your problem man!”

Carmy did his best to shrug off Richie’s touch as the man tried and failed to lead the riled-up teenager back inside, sure this was all some big misunderstanding. “I don’t have time for this, just get the fuck outta here.” Carmy could hear the growing frustration in his brother’s voice but the anger surging through him was fighting any logic his brain was pushing forth.

“You’re a piece of fucking shit Mikey, what the fuck you say to her huh? Sh-she wouldn’t just fucking kiss you, Mikey. Don’t pretend you fucking deserve her…I-I see the way you look at her don’t fucking lie to me.”

Carmy’s words had their intended effect whichever ones he wasn’t sure but he’d struck a cord in Mikey, that much was evident in the way he threw an empty beer bottle to the ground the loud shattering echoing through the quiet neighborhood. “And you do Carm?” A sardonic laugh left the vicious sneer on Mikey’s lips, “Give her a couple years Carm, who knows maybe she’ll decide I’m the better brother.”

Mikey knew the words were wrong the second they left his mouth and he didn’t need to hear Richie’s admonishing call of his name to realize it. Mikey didn’t see you as anything more than a little sister and he made sure you knew that as he gently pushed you away from him, breaking the kiss you initiated as soon as it started, he couldn’t be sure your inebriated mind understood at the moment, but he needed to make the boundaries between the two of you clear. Talking about you in the way he just did made him feel like the piece of shit Carmy was making him out to be, he was old enough to know not to disrespect you in the way he just did, but his younger brother's misdirected anger was the last thing he needed to hear, so Mikey hit him where it hurt a low moment of his he was sure to regret.

It all happened so fast the way Carmy took several quick steps forward, fist swinging out just as Richie wrapped his arms around him stopping his momentum before his fist could connect with Mikey’s face. Carmy struggled against Richie for a few moments before slumping against him defeat clear on his face. He shoved Richie away from him as he let him go, angry eyes blazing through Mikey’s figure.

“Fuck you, Mikey,” The quiet angry quip was punctuated by the glob of spit flying out of Carmy’s mouth and landing by Mikey’s shoe.

The last thing Carmy wanted to see as he stormed into his room was your figure in the middle of his floor, sundress pushed far too high up your legs displaying your panties as you sorted through the first-aid supplies scattered around you that you’d most likely found in his bathroom.

You looked like a fucking idiot sitting there focusing way too hard trying to read the ointment you’d picked up. Carmy’s irritated huff reached your ears a wide grin gracing your lips as you looked up to see him standing in the doorway. He rolled his eyes slamming the door behind him as he made his way fully into the room.

The loud noise had you stifling your giggles, “Someone’s mad.” The words were drawn out in a sing-song voice.

Carmy was doing his damndest to not blow up on you as he made his way to his dresser before pulling out a pair of your sweats you kept over for emergencies. He pulled the sweats out balling them up in his hand before harshly slamming the drawer and turning around and tossing them at your head, the bundle of cotton hitting you in the face and sending you into a fit of hysterics.

“Fucking cover yourself up.” The harsh tone of his voice caused you to roll your eyes quiet giggles still slipping past your lips as you reached for the sweats before putting on a deep voice and mocking him.

You stood up struggling to step into your sweats without losing your balance. You’d thought you had it this time but you were mistaken as the feeling of being on one leg sent you toppling over onto Carmy’s bed.

Carmy’s anger ebbed away into annoyance at the state you were in as he moved to help you stand before leading you to sit on his bed eyes dropping to your scraped-up knees only to realize that you’d done fuck all to clean them.

He ignored you as he gathered the necessary supplies and began to work on the scrapes on your right knee, doing his best to finish quickly so the both of you could get some sleep and pretend this night never happened.

“Carmy, you’re still my best friend…right?” You still sounded out of it as you asked the question, Carmy was resigned to ignoring you but then your soft voice began whispering his name incessantly.

“Sure Baby.” The irritation was obvious in his voice, and even more obvious in the way he harshly rubbed the alcohol pad against your wound, the movement causing you to wince. “Sorry.”

You sat still for a moment before your hands made their way to his grown-out hair, fingers wrapping around the curls that began to form at the ends. “I have a secret to tell you but you have to promise you won’t get mad.”

He gave a noncommittal hum hoping to finish patching you up before you spoke another word. The silence in the room gave Carmy hope that you’d fallen asleep but he was sorely mistaken as your quiet voice reached his ears. “I kissed Mikey. But…he didn’t like it.”

Carmy was surprised to hear the words leave your mouth, sure that the drugs and alcohol in your system would lead you to crack some stupid joke. He let go of your leg before leaning back on his haunches his eyebrows furrowed at your admission. “Why?” If this was true, if you kissed Mikey of your own volition he needed to understand why. And it also meant he probably owed his older brother some form of an apology.

He watched as your shoulders moved up and down in a lazy shrug that goofy smile still pulling at your lips, but the sheen in your eyes contradicted it, “I wanted to forget about you.” Your voice was hoarse with emotion as you answered hands moving from the curls of Carmy’s hair to gently grip his face in your scratched-up hands.

The two of you stared at each other, minutes ticking by as you drank each other in, Carmy’s confusion only growing as you began to giggle again, the noise juxtaposed by the new tears streaming down your cheeks.

“But I think I’ll remember you forever.”

a/n: please don’t take this as your sign to get experimental with drugs and alcohol, in no way am i endorsing that any of you go out and do this. please remember you are responsible for your own media consumption!!!

my first edible made me think i was the yellow power ranger, so please if you do, use recreational drugs safely and correctly!!!

#etherealising’s 1k celebration #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fic #the bear x reader #the bear x you #fem reader #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] universe

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itallcomesfromhoney · 7 months ago

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just friends | kirishima eijirou x bakugo katsuki x reader

synopsis: friends to lovers ft. fake dating

note: ahh! thank you so much for all the love on the teaser, this is the first fic i’ve actually written, not entirely sure where it’s going yet but we’ll figure that one out. i wanted some context to these three so we're starting with a first year throwback before we go straight in, let me know if you'd like more of their friendship years sprinkled in. i'm so sorry for the delay, feedback is always appreciated and feel free to pop into my inbox any time ✨

wordcount: 1.6k

chapter one

“Outta my way, nerds!”

You feel pressure between your shoulder blades and you stumble forward into the freshly red headed boy in front of you. Eijirou Kirishima catches you by your forearms and raises his dark eyebrows at whoever it was that pushed you, “That wasn’t very manly.” You follow his gaze to see a blonde figure, almost out of sight across the cement plaza already and a small black cloud appeared above your head at the sight. “What is his issue” You scowled, tiny drops of rain spit out into your immediate area, accompanied by low grumbles of thunder and Kirishima waves his hand through the thick cloud, dispersing it back into the atmosphere. “C’mon, Stormcloud, let’s find our class before you flood us all.”

You and Kirishima had gone to middle school together, quickly becoming friends and applying for UA together alongside Mina Ashido, your mutual pink friend. The three of you had managed to get not only onto the same course but into the same class, by some miracle. The pair of you walk side by side, attempting to navigate the corridors of the new school, but mostly just taking everything in. You marvel at the upperclassmen loitering near their classrooms, you can’t help but to daydream about that being you someday. Your face heats as a pretty girl with long lavender hair waves a hand at you and you quickly face the floor as she giggles to her friends, “First years are just so cute”

Eventually you both find the room marked '1-A' and slide into the class behind a small freckled boy with green curls that you vaguely recognised from the entrance exam, “…put a stick up your ass?” Your ears pricked as you recognised the voice from earlier and the room darkened as another storm cloud formed above your own head. “You’re totally joking” you grumbled at Kirishima, eyes locking onto the blonde head of hair that had shoved you earlier, at least it looked like it wasn’t just you he had beef with. Kirishima shook his head and tugged you away by your shoulders, “What are the odds”

“Whoa sick cloud” You snapped your eyes off of the angry looking boy, now arguing with a tall dark haired boy to look at yet another blonde, this time with black stripes near his eyes and a wide friendly smile. “Do you, like, make that?” He asked you, staring at the grey mass rolling above you head. You shook your head to clear my previous thoughts and the cloud dissipated, replacing itself with a warm breeze that ruffled your hair before stilling. “Oh! Um yeah, kind of?” You stammered, rubbing the back of your neck, “I can’t control it very well yet though” “Kaminari Denki, your quirk is so cool!” You introduced yourself to the ball of sunshine in front of you and Kirishima did the same. “So, what’s your quirk?” Kirishima asked the new boy and you half listened to the pair chatting as you scanned the rest of the classroom.

You recognised a fair few people from the exams, you realised, not just the small green boy, who now seemed to be locked in a tense conversation with the scary blonde. There was a small brunette girl, bouncing slightly on her toes who you were sure had some sort of levitation quirk, maybe? And oh god, there was a tiny boy with shiny purple spheres attached to his head with a spooky looking smile on his face who you distinctly remember harassing a group of girls at the exams. You spotted Mina, already making friends with a tall brunette girl a few rows down and sent her a wave before a huge yellow tube seemingly appeared at the front of the room, “Welcome, to UA’s hero course.”

— Months Later —

The Class A dorms were buzzing with activity, chatter bouncing around the hallways as everyone got ready for the school dance. “I can’t believe you actually convinced me to wear this stupid thing!” Bakugo scoffed, looking down at his suit and tugging roughly on his tie. Kirishima eyed him and laughed, “Bakubro, c’mon! It’s a dance! You can’t wear a suit without a tie.” “I’ll do what I want, shitty hair”

The boys’ banter was interrupted as the elevator opened, revealing you wrapped in a baby blue silk slip and fiddling with a small piece of hair that wouldn’t quite sit in place. “Wow! You look great Y/N!” Eijirou gasped, running a hand through his red hair. You smile at the red head and smooth down the fabric of your dress, “Thanks, Eijirou! You boys look nice” “Thanks!” Eijirou beamed, looking over at Katsuki for his opinion, only to be met with a frown. “Tsk” Katsuki made a noise of dissatisfaction. “Suit’s too tight…” Eijirou rolled his eyes at the blonde boy, “I doubt it is. It looks the same as it always-” “Shut up!” Katsuki’s scowl deepened, muttering under his breath.

You frown at Bakugo, “Is it the tie?” You ask the blonde, concerned. You knew he’d apparently been sensitive to tight clothes around his neck since his encounter with the sludge villain, not that he’d ever really admit it. “Don't get why these damn things have to be so tight.” Katsuki looked away and grunted to himself. “Hey man. You sure you're alright?” Kirishima asked, “I’m fine. Just shut up.” You stepped forward to tug on Bakugo’s tie, loosening it slightly and popping his top button open, “Is that a bit better?” Katsuki was caught off-guard by the sudden tug, but let out a small breath when he felt the tie loosen up. He turned around to face you. “Thanks or whatever” He nodded his head once, his scowl softening just a bit. You smile at him and step backwards, checking yourself over in the reflection of the large window in the common area, “Let’s go then, we can’t keep everyone else waiting” You joke, moving to leave the dorms.

The two boys fell in line behind you as your trio made their way towards the main hall, Kirishima nudged Bakugo once as they stepped into the crowd of students. “Looks like your mood is better.” Katsuki huffed in response, crossing his arms. “Whatever. I just wanna get this crap over with already” “Lighten up, Katsuki, you might even have fun” You tease, Kirishima snickered “She’s right, y'know? You’re just stubborn” “Whatever, shitty hair. I’m not having fun.” Bakugo looked away, but couldn’t hide the small smile on his face. Eijirou sighed, shaking his head but smiling back at his friend. “Eijirou and I will just have fun without you then!” You joke, grabbing Kirishima’s hand and tugging him behind you into the hall. Eijirou barked a signature laugh and let you drag him forward as Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Hey! Wait up, nerds!” Katsuki stepped forward and began following the two of you at a leisurely pace, trying his best to act stony.

As soon as you stepped into the hall you smiled, looking at all the decorations and scanning the crowd for some of your other friends and classmates. Spotting them across the room, you tug Eijirou over, you knew Katsuki would catch up eventually. The theme of the year was 'Under the Sea', the room swathed in blues and bright corals, sunny spotlights dancing around the walls and briefly you wondered if Gang Orca or Selkie had had anything to do with it. You hear a pitched squeal as you and Kirishima make your way to your classmates and you let go of his hand as Mina tackles you into a hug, “Hi! You look so gorgeous!” You feel your face warm as you thank her, repeating the comment back to her. Mina was decked out in a soft green dress, the fabric shimmering against her pink skin.

Bakugo had chosen this moment to catch up to the group, an unimpressed look on his tanned face. “You know, you could’ve waited for me you two…” He grumbles and you shoot a wink to him over your shoulder, “Where’s the fun in that?” The blonde huffs but otherwise doesn’t respond and Kirishima shoulders the other boy lightly, “You could smile, you know” he teases. Bakugo grits his teeth and looks away, fully intending to ignore his friend, but he eyes the crowd of classmates forming around you, watching carefully.

“Hi! You all look great!” You smile, spotting some of the other boys heading over. Mina, forever the gossip, lights up as she spots a particular classmate and pulls him over, Todoroki’s own baby blue tie shines on his chest, “Todoroki! You two totally match!” It was a complete accident, but his tie matched your dress perfectly, the fabrics looking as if they were pulled from the same reel, you doubted it though; it was likely that his tie cost at least triple what your dress did. The half and half boy blushes and agrees, smiling a little “Y/N, you look nice” he compliments.

Bakugo rolled his eyes at the interaction, “Blue for under the sea? How original.” You turn and frown at the blonde, “Don’t be rude, Bakugo.” You hiss glaring at him. Bakugo scoffs but says nothing else and Kirishima looks at the taller boy with his eyebrows pinched, “Why didn’t we think to wear blue” he whines; Bakugo glares at him.

You chat with the group for a while before pulling away from the group, moving off to be with Kirishima and Bakugo. “What’s wrong with you?” You raise an eyebrow at the blonde boy’s scowl. “Nothing.” He frowned, not looking at you as he crossed his arms again. “Were we supposed to wear blue?” Kirishima asks you, still pouting, you tilt your head in confusion “Why would you?” “Don’t be a dumbass” Bakugo mutters, and you’re not entirely sure if it’s directed at you or Eijirou. You shake the weird comment off, “Well if you’re going to be grumpy all night, I’ll just dance with, Eijirou.” For the second time that evening, you wind your hand into Kirishima’s and tug him towards the dancefloor and for the second time that evening, the muscular boy lets you.

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✨taglist: @abadbitchblogs @/sixxze (i haven't been able to tag you!) @/I0ren12 (I can't tag you either, I'm so sorry!)✨

#mha #my hero academia #just friends kiribaku #kiribaku x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugo x reader #kirishima eijirou #katsuki bakugou #bnha #boku no hero academia

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thatone-brightstar · 1 year ago

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More than all the stars (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader) (The Bear & The Fox Series)

Chapter 3: My darling, my dearest, my dead.

Words: 4k

a/n: Hi, hello!! so we finally meet the dreaded ex and even though you can imagine who you like, since writing it i always had Oscar Isaac in mind bc THAT MAN MAKES ME FEEL THINGS and also he makes one hell of a villain so you can't really blame me.

anyway, enjoy the chapter and remember that reblogs and comments are the way to show appreciation for your favorite creators and lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Chapter 2.

He could have done more than just stand there- looking at her with that stupid expression over his face- the one many use when all the words have evaporated into thin air. But then again, what could he say, especially to someone he assumed he’d never see again? Her expression sat stoic, apart from the slightly raised eyebrows waiting in expectation, there was nothing in her face that revealed the storm inside her head.

“So?” She spoke over the ringing in his ears and brought him back from his memories. “You gonna say something or just pretend I’m not here?”

“Uhm, H-hey…?”

“Hi.” She repeated with certain disdain and a dry smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He felt like a fish out of water, mouth rounding around the words but never able to truly push them past his throat. “Wha- what uhm, what are- uh…”

“I’m on holiday.” She answered for him and shrugged, cutting his torture short, though he thought that was more than he deserved. “I wanted to see what the great Beef of Chicagoland was all about…” Ross added and let her eyes wander from his to the dimly lit and emptied room.

Something about her analytic gaze made him stand straighter and rub the back of his neck in anticipation for her verdict.

“We’re, uh, renovating.”

Ross offered a single nod and a weak hum as her serious expression landed back on him. “Makes sense.”

A still silence fell over them again, forcing Camry to fidget with his knuckles and take another long drag of the already wavering cig. He wondered if the lack of conversation had always felt so stagnant between them- like the middle of July- or if time had truly taken a toll on their interactions. He heard her shuffle against the newspaper covered glass once more, but didn’t dare to raise his head until she spoke again.

“I heard about your brother…” She started, cracking her knuckles out of habit. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“S’fine.” Carmy answered instantly, the words had already nestled into a permanent space in his mind, but at least for her, he knew they were genuine. “Thank you.” He said and added “I’m sorry for, y’know… everything.”

A slight curve around her mouth broke the cold glare settling over him and despite the somber tone around them, the simple action let a wave of fresh air pass into his lungs.

“What part exactly?” Ross asked, digging her palms into the back pocket of her jeans and moving slowly in direction to the dusty counter. “Leaving with no explanation? Not even letting me know you were alive… or for being an overall idiot for as long as I’ve known you?”

The refreshing bluntness of her tone pulled out a soft chuckle from his knotted chest and he couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Carmy reached again towards the packet resting beside him and lit another tube between his lips, waiting, as if the words were magically hidden between the embers and smoke.

As she waited for an answer, Ross pulled out the stool a few feet beside him and took out a cigarette without asking, it’s not as if he would have said anything anyway, at least nothing other than:

“You smoke now?”

Ross shrugged again and sucked the smoke into her mouth. A gleam from her left hand caught his eye. Carmy couldn’t help the surprised expression falling over his face at the sight of a thin gold band wrapping around her delicate finger, or the shimmering stone that was placed upon it.

He signaled with his head in direction to ring. “That’s… new.” He said.

She pulled her hand back at arms length and admired the perfectly polished stone with a new spark behind her eyes, as if the owner of said promise reappeared in her memories each time she looked at it.

“Yeah… you remember Frank?”

Carmy’s expression grew even more surprised at the mention of his former co-worker. The one that Ross, if he remembered correctly, didn’t even give the time of day.

“Yeah…shit, Frank?” He asked, incredulous.

“Ugh, gross no.” The girl answered and Carmy’s shoulders fell in relief. “One of his cousins.”

Her eyes went from the shimmering rock to the plastic covered pop machines they had yet to take out and Carmy could almost see the memory of her lover replaying over her softening features.

“We uh, we met a month after you left… I guess it just clicked.” She shrugged and finally turned to him.

From up close, he could see how much her face had truly changed. There was little trace of the jovial features he had known, yet the spark in her eyes remained. It wasn’t for him anymore though, that much he knew, and it would have probably affected him more a year ago than it did then.

“Finally someone my age-“ Ross joked and slightly swayed in his direction. Carmy sniggered back, relieved that the tension was slowly withering away.

“I’m glad.” He responded sincerely as a gentle smile unfolded over his features.

The girl nodded slowly and smiled back, tearing her gaze away and refocusing it back to the lit tube dangling from her fingers.

“How’d you know?” He blurred out the thought that had been kneading itself in his head for a few weeks now.

“What?”

“Y’know… that he’s- that they’re, y’know-”

“The one?” She answered for him in a teasing tone that made him roll his eyes but nod back.

The room went quiet as she thought, only his foot continuously tapping against the floor in angst was heard. Ross’ brows slowly raised up as her eyes examined his nervousness closely, then she turned her body fully towards him and leaned against the counter.

“I dunno, honestly.” Her response was simple and he tried to swallow discreetly so as to not show his disappointment. “It’s different for everyone.” She reassured. His eyes rose expectant to her face once more. “I felt… peace. Like I can finally breathe and I’m not struggling to hold my head above the current anymore.”

Carmy knew the feeling she was referring to, the consistent pressure crushing his lungs that no amount of cigarettes could numb out but that suddenly, the single thought of you, fixed. The weight that fell off his shoulders as soon as he crossed the entrance to your home and the glee on your face as you saw him, that was the peace she was referring to. You weren’t the bandaid that temporarily taped up his shitty moods, but the whole damn antibiotic that eradicated the virus altogether.

“Listen, I-” Ross stopped abruptly to gather her scattered thoughts, exhaled loudly, then continued. “I just wanna get it off my chest. I did like you, Carmen, like a lot, but… we would have torn each other to pieces.” Her sigh came out like a nervous chuckle.

He nodded again and swallowed hard, taken back. “Right- yeah no, definitely.”

“With Jonathan it’s easy. It’s like breathing, just second nature. And in spite of everything that went on with us, I still mean what I said before… I do hope you find that one day.” For a second, her features softened into the girl he had known more than a year back, the one who had truly seen him when no one else had.

Your face instantly appeared in his mind. That morning at the farmer’s market, the cold breeze had tainted your soft cheeks pink and the fuzzy knitted scarf swallowed half your face whole. His chest felt like it could concave suddenly and he felt like an absolute idiot for not realizing it sooner.

An uncontrollable grin spread around his face, raising his flushed cheeks up to his eyes. He coughed slightly to clear his throat but it only fused with a soft snigger that filled him with an unfamiliar warmth.

“Yeah…” He exhaled as his eyes caught the same shimmer as the stone. “Yeah, I think I have.”

“I’m glad.” Ross repeated his words back, nothing but honesty clear on her face.

**********

The dull and foggy sky mirrors your mood as you mark your steps over the cobblestone, bouquet held tight in between your gloved hands.

You haven’t visited since the funeral, it had been too painful to do so. One loss after another had been enough to topple your fragile mental health and you were sure that if you had visited before being ready, it would have guaranteed a similar headstone beside hers. Despite the slight jittering of your fingers though, you’re sure of every step you take, careful to move around the more weathered graves.

Your heart leaps in your chest once you spot the space reserved for your grandmother. The headstone is more dramatic than the ones that surround it, but then again, she never did anything small. There’s a carved limestone angel that guards her sleep as it rests with crossed arms over it, wings wrapped around the slab. It still looks relatively new, despite sitting in the hard Chicago weather for a year and part of you feels guilty for visiting after so long, but you know she would have understood.

Your nose has started to freeze with the chill wind and you use one gloved hand to wipe away the rogue tear that tickles your nostril, before slowly stopping in front of the grave.

“Hola abuelita.” You whisper and sniff with difficulty. “Te traje Claveles.”

The dead grass snaps quietly as you sit cross legged and lay the vibrant flowers right under her name. With empty hands, you begin to play with the loose threads of your worn out gloves as you search for something to say. ‘Not like you can hear me, anyway.’ you think to yourself bitterly, then a humorless chuckle escapes when the image of her, slightly smacking the back of your head, comes to mind.

“Sorry.” You reply instantly, as if she could see your thoughts. “I’ve never been good at this sorta thing, you know me.”

The morning is mostly quiet, despite a few chirping birds and the light traffic that sneaks past the trees, everything is still.

“Nice place you got here…with the shade n’ everything- Mom says hi. I asked Papi si quería saludarte, but he says he’ll come by next week as always.” Your throat begins to close up and you try to clear a pathway with a few subtle coughs.

You reach out to clean off the few petals that fell from the dried flowers your grandfather left last week and another batch of tears bundles over your bottom lashes. You’ve always admired their love, the kind that transcends even after the other is gone, because ‘til death do us part’ doesn’t really carry any meaning when you truly love someone.

A softer smile takes the place of the teary one as the memories of Sunday mornings sitting between them and watching old movies invades your mind. She’d braid your hair with dexterous hands as you watched various men porcelain their love to a young Rita Moreno through the black and white screen. The whiff of coffee and cigarettes from your grandfather felt like home and the loving whispers they’d share with one another behind your back put the prettiest bird songs to shame.

“A lot’s happened since you left…” Your voice carries out through the wind, but you like to imagine that it's taking your words to her. “I met someone- not the asshole I told you about, you were right about him… someone else. His name’s Carmy. You would’ve liked him, Papi does, pero ya sabes como es, he won’t admit it. He’s been through a lot, but he’s still really sweet. He’s a fighter… I think he’s the one.” Your epiphany goes quiet in the secluded cemetery and your heart starts to beat even faster as the words sink in.

You’ve come to the conclusion that the bad thing about being surrounded by so much love is you’re always searching to replicate it. Your grandparents loved you so much, that the need for a father never even crossed your mind, and they loved each other even harder that all you ever wanted growing up was a love like that of your own. You went through countless partners in search of “the one” and always came out empty handed, but she was always there- with her cafecito and old movies- to pick you right back up.

What scares you now is that she isn’t there to pick you up if anything were to happen anymore, and after Isaac, you’re not sure if you can go through another broken heart as bad as that one.

You huff out a hard sigh and wipe your cheeks a little too hard, tainting them pink.

“I’m sure.” You repeat again a little louder to drown out the critical thoughts. “No- yeah, I am. I am.”

The distracting vibration from your phone pierces the calming silence and gives you a chance to leave the vexing thoughts behind.

“What-”

“-the fuck did you do?!” He yells from the other line as soon as you answer, making you pull the phone away from your ear.

“Hello to you too J-“

“What the fuck did you do-” Your brother interrupts again and you roll your eyes. “-I just saw that lanky tall guy from your old job drop my mom off at the house!”

“Really? That was fast…”

His frustrated groan vibrates across the receiver while you unfold your legs from under you and stand up. You place a quick kiss over your fingers and place it over the tombstone before moving back to the entrance.

“I don’t know what the big deal is, she’s an adult, she can go out with who she wants.”

“Yeah, exactly. Who she wants, not the first asshole you put in front of her.”

“Oh, you jealous you’re not the only man in her life now, huh?”

Joshua scoffs and you can imagine how he impatiently rolls his eyes before mumbling a ‘fuck you’.

“Fuck you too, dude. Why don’t you get a life and stop worrying about what my mom does with hers.”

“Fine- but when she comes home crying cause that fucker broke her heart, Imma send her straight to you.”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

He doesn’t wait for another response before ending the call. You shove your phone back into your coat with a huff and pull your car keys out instead.

**********

There isn’t much you can do during the winter classes. Since the day recedes to night earlier than usual, the courses have been shortened to an hour long, which then shrinks to 45 minutes after trying to get the kids settled into their stations. Only after months on the job do you finally understand the vexing task of a sheep herder.

By the time the sky has gone from blue, to orange, to an angelic lilac, only two little ones remain and you’ve been making the most out of their cooperative nature by having them haul their drying works into the back. They do so excitedly, between debates over which dinosaur is the best and why it’s the T-Rex. The conversation brings a smile to your face as you hear their voices slowly fade away from the inside storage.

It’s a few minutes past 8 when the bell from the entrance door dings and a sigh of relief exits your chest.

“In the back!” You call to whoever arrived.

While the echoing steps move closer, you turn with your attention fully on the jar of paint that doesn’t want to screw on correctly. Once you get it right and the steps have stopped a few yards away, you look up with a kind smile that vanishes as soon as your eyes settle on the man in front of you.

Your lungs have stopped working completely. Your fingers hold a deadly grip on the jar, bending the plastic with enough strength to turn your knuckles white. Without taking your eyes off him, you blindly settle it back down on the cart and try to regulate your racing heart and breath.

The moment you see him again, everything stops in the most terrible of ways. It feels like standing by the edge of a panic attack, but not falling all the way through, just feeling the waves of cold sweats traveling down with every heaving breath. In an attempt to ground yourself, your fingers dig into the rough fabric of your apron, instantly absorbing the wetness of your trembling hands and for a second you swear that if you were brave enough to look down, you would find your guts splattered all over the wooden floor.

“Hi Uncle!” The little boy rejoices once he spots the man and walks to your side, oblivious of your hardening gaze on his guardian.

You swallow down the sickening sweetness that your afternoon tea had left in your mouth. “Kenny, where’s your mom?” You rub a hand over his hair with a forced smile.

“She had a late meeting.” The man’s strong voice vibrates through the walls with little effort, the sound ringing in your ears.

“This is my uncle Isaac.” Kenny adds as if you didn’t already know and the simple mention of the name rips your gut open once again.

You keep your eyes glued on the child, thinking that maybe if you don’t acknowledge the man disturbing the room, he would vanish into thin air like a mirage. ‘Or combust violently’ the voice in your head muttered viciously.

“Can you be a dear and take the last reference pics to the back? Inside the red basket, please. And then grab your bag, okay?” You indicate with a last gentle pat over his shoulder.

He salutes then runs to the doors and out of earshot. With another shaky breath you turn back to the paint cart and try your best to swallow down the knot of bile that has begun to grow.

“I need a permit from his mother to let him leave with a stranger.” You state as calm and collected as your growing anxiety allows you.

His deep chuckle reverberates through the crystal walls and lands on your skin, chilling it to the touch. “What, so I’m a stranger to you now?” He asks.

“You’re nothing to me as far as I’m concerned.” You scoff as you push the cart back to its original place, doing your best to calm the nausea that the memories of seeing him at the charity event are causing.

“Oh, cut me some slack, I’ve been trying to apologize.”

“Yeah, and what’s that good for?” You spit out instinctively, turning around with new found irritation.

The look on his face is full with triumph and your palm itches with the need to punch the smug off his dumb face. You wish you had the same courage as that night, when you followed him out the gallery with every intention of denting his jaw, but that kind of bravery only comes with alcohol and there is unfortunately none in sight.

“C’mon Fox…” He says through a sly smile and takes a step towards you, immediately making you take one back.

“Don’t call me that, you don’t get the right to call me that after what you put me through.”

There’s a stare in your eyes that would send any sane man running for the hills, but Isaac has always been anything but. He takes it as a challenge instead, tilting his head to the side like a hunter analyzing its prey, with a toothy grin that exposes the canines in an almost charmingly vile way.

His eyes drag slowly down your body with an obvious gesture, one that has you crossing your arms over your chest to shield as much as you can from his view. “Then what can I call you? Mi amor?” He says instead.

“Call me nothing, no soy tu amor.” You mutter through gritted teeth and move quickly around the room to finish collecting the last of your supplies. In the back of your mind, you rush the kids to finish quicker, but their debate keeps them too entertained.

“Oh, but I recall how much you used to love it.” His words slither out with venom and his eyes narrow in satisfaction when he notices you stop fully in your tracks and give him another angry stare. “Did you forget how much fun we used to have?”

“I remember how you fucked up my life-” You remark over his words, but he speaks over them again.

“Remember when I took you to The Met?” With each word, the bile in your throat feels more inevitable, clawing its way higher up. “How you thanked me so well for the trip in those lacy blue-”

“-Yo babe, sorry I’m so late-” His booming voice invades the room as soon as he appears past the exhibitions, bringing a wave of fresh air into your dying lungs. “-Cousin finally got the permits from Cicero so-”

Ava’s excited footsteps charge out the back and towards her dad, followed by a calm Kenny carrying a Spiderman backpack. The excitement from the children is enough to trigger your migraine but it doesn’t matter because you’ve never been more thankful for Richie’s terrible time management skills.

When he finally has his daughter securely in his arms, Richie’s eyes dart from you to Isaac, finally feeling the thick air that stays stagnant between you.

It only takes him a second to notice your stance, the hardness of your jaw and the menacing stare you give the man beside him. “Am I interrupting anything-“

“No.” You’re quick to answer. “They’re just leaving so…”

Kenny stretches his hand up to take your high five goodbye and promises Ava they’ll finish their debate tomorrow while Isaac doesn’t move. He’s still, with a defiant gaze that feels like minutes, then he swings Kenny’s bag over his shoulder and takes a few strides in your direction, stopping less than a foot away. You don’t retreat this time and despite the height difference that’s more obvious up close, you eye him down with all the anger you can muster.

He pulls something you can’t see out of the pocket of his coat and brings it up to your view. The signed permit rests between his index and middle finger as he offers it to you, but once he sees you won’t take it, he flicks his wrist towards the desk beside you and lets the paper fall lazily over it.

“I’ll see you around…" Isaac whispers like a menacing promise. "the paint suits you, by the way.” It’s low enough for only you to hear and the smile that goes along with his denigrating tone makes your face turn in disgust.

Your gaze launches daggers at his back once he turns and takes the small boy by the hand, disappearing past the installation and your lungs only stop burning when the bell dings a final time.

“What’s that asshole’s problem?” Richie mutters, hand over Ava’s ears and stare lost in the space left empty.

The desk beside you has never felt more sturdy than the moment you let yourself fall back on it, the adrenaline has finally left your system and turned your legs into jelly. It screeches lightly and makes Richie turn his head towards you, concern evident once he spots your colorless face.

“Hey, hey kid, you okay?”

“Wha- yeah, yeah I’m fine. It’s Just um… it’s just been a really long day.”

“Yeah…” He plays along and takes a few weary steps towards you. “Probably doesn’t help that you’ve been smellin ‘ this shit all day either, huh?” He says, taking one of the closed jars with his empty hand and scanning the label.

“Yeah… that’s probably it.” You reply absentminded as your eyes focus past the glass, hoping to not catch sight of the man.

“Mhm…” Richie repeats in the same tone. “Listen, I know cousin’s got your car and he’s still at the restaurant so if you pack your stuff now, I'll drop you off at home.”

You nod a few times, eyes still on the glass, then with another heavy sigh, you clear your throat and push yourself off the desk. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you, Richie.”

You move quickly behind your desk and pull out your already prepped bag and keys- careful to not let him see the wayward tear that the strange confrontation has left behind- before tucking your hair behind your ears and giving him a thin lipped smile.

“Thank you.” You whisper towards him.

Richie shrugs his shoulders and the little girl that’s already falling asleep over them stirs lightly.

“What’s family for?” He replies and for the first time since you’ve met him, both his voice and demeanor carry a strange serenity that makes you understand why his daughter is peacefully asleep by the time she reaches her car seat.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne , @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha , @yum-yahgurt , @pussy-f41ry , @kirakombat , @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 , @feyhunter78, @xeneth99 and that's it lmao

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estellan0vella · 1 month ago

Text

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Thirty: Toad In The Pond SS: 10 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 4.1 K Content Warnings: None? Previous Next Masterlist

Minho leans back in his seat, sipping on his iced americano, the soft hum of the car heater filling the space. Snowflakes flutter past the windshield as Hayun adjusts her scarf, taking a long sip of her hazelnut honeycomb frappuccino. She sighs contentedly, her earmuffs slightly askew, and Minho shakes his head.

“I need to understand your aversion to coats,” he says, his voice teasing but with genuine curiosity. “It’s freezing out there, but here you are. Bare legs and no coat. You’re dressed like winter Barbie.”

Hayun shrugs, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Coats ruin my cute vibe. I look like a marshmallow.”

“Yeah, because frostbite is such a good look,” Minho retorts, rolling his eyes. “I’m just saying, princess, a little practicality wouldn’t kill you.”

“Neither will a little cold,” Hayun quips back, taking another sip of her drink. “Besides, you’re my personal heater anyway.”

Minho huffs, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You’re impossible.”

They watch the diner from their vantage point, the windows fogging slightly as the heat inside contrasts with the snow-covered world outside. Hayun leans forward, peering at the entrance, and then settles back in her seat.

“What if we planted someone there?” she muses aloud. “Like Hyunjin? Hospitality workers live for customer gossip. When I worked at the café with Seungmin, we’d talk about the regulars all the time.”

Minho tilts his head. “Hyunjin, though? You think he’d blend in?”

“Hyunjin can blend anywhere,” Hayun replies with a laugh. “He’s like a chameleon with perfect bone structure.”

“Fair point,” Minho agrees. “But Seungmin working at a café? I can’t picture it.”

“Oh, he hated it,” Hayun says with a grin. “But he was great at eavesdropping, and his deadpan commentary kept me sane. I bet he’d love this plan.”

Hayun takes another sip of her drink and hums. “You know, this would be beautiful with some Bailey’s in it.”

Minho glances at her. “What’s Bailey’s?”

She perks up, animated now. “Okay, so before Etta passed, we celebrated my eighteenth birthday with a trip to the UK. We discovered Bailey’s. It’s this magical mix of Irish whiskey, spirits, cream, and flavourings.”

“Is it good?” Minho asks, intrigued.

“Good? It’s life-changing,” Hayun declares dramatically. “You pour it over ice, and it’s like drinking a creamy hug.”

Minho chuckles. “You have some at home?”

“Imported,” she replies proudly. “You better appreciate it when I share it. Shipping’s expensive as hell, but it’s worth every penny. I’m thinking of getting Chan a bottle for Christmas. He’d love it.”

“Fancy,” Minho teases. “Podcast money treating you well, huh?”

“Oh, you can’t talk, Mr. Fancy Car,” Hayun counters, smirking. “Besides, it’s the shipping that’s pricey, not the drink.”

Minho shakes his head with a grin. “You’re a trip, you know that?”

“I try,” she says with a mock bow of her head.

Minho shifts in his seat. “What if we did a big Christmas? My house and your house together. Sweet potato noodles, divine.”

Hayun wrinkles her nose. “Christmas roast is where it’s at.”

“That’s a Western thing, right?” Minho asks.

She nods enthusiastically. “Etta introduced me. Roast chicken, turkey, beef, gammon, vegetables galore, gravy, and- oh! Yorkshire puddings.”

Minho frowns. “Yorkshire puddings?”

Hayun lights up. “Oh, you’re in for a treat. It’s like this pastry thing, kind of, but not really. It’s an experience. You can put gravy on them, or apple sauce if you’re Felix or me.”

Minho raises an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“And toad in the hole!” Hayun adds, clapping her hands.

“Toad in the what?” Minho’s voice is incredulous.

“Toad in the hole,” she repeats with a grin. “It’s sausages baked into this batter. It’s delicious.”

Minho stares at her. “You’re making that up.”

“I’m not!” Hayun insists, laughing. “British food is weird, but it’s amazing.”

Minho shakes his head, taking another sip of his americano. “You’re a strange one, princess.”

“And yet, here you are,” Hayun teases, nudging his arm.

Minho’s lips curl into a small smile as he glances back at the diner. “Yeah, here I am. I can make beef Wellington, you know.”

Hayun groans dramatically, clutching her frappuccino like it’s a life raft. “Ooh, I might marry you. Forget the podcast, forget the plans, let’s just settle down and make beef Wellington together.”

Minho smirks, raising an eyebrow. “High standards, I see.”

“You’d be surprised,” she shoots back with a grin, tucking her legs under her on the seat. “Can you make any other British dishes?”

“Not really,” Minho admits. “Beef Wellington is just one of those things I got obsessed with once, and I nailed it. You?”

Hayun nods proudly. “Etta was half-American, half-British, and she taught me a lot. You want cottage pie? Done. You want bibimbap?” She pauses for dramatic effect. “Expect a minor fire.”

Minho bursts into laughter. “Cottage pie?”

“It’s like shepherd’s pie,” she explains, already knowing where this is going.

Minho blinks, confused. “Okay, so there’s cottage pie and shepherd’s pie? What the fuck? What’s the difference?”

“Shepherd’s pie uses lamb mince, because, you know shepherds. Sheep,” Hayun replies, gesturing like it’s obvious. “Cottage pie uses beef.”

Minho tilts his head. “Okay, but why isn’t it called cow pie or farmer pie? Who comes up with this shit?”

Hayun freezes for a second, then laughs. “That… that’s a really good question. Cottage pie does sound unnecessarily fancy.”

“So, what actually is it?” Minho presses.

“It’s just meat and vegetables in gravy, with mashed potatoes on top,” she says. “I like being a little extra and putting cheese on the top.”

Minho nods thoughtfully. “I respect the cheese move. Tonight, you could make me the sheep pie or the cow pie.”

Hayun giggles. “We’d have to go shopping for ingredients.”

“Done,” Minho says without hesitation. “Or better yet, I want the toad in the well.”

Hayun snorts, nearly spilling her drink. “It’s toad in the hole. And that means you’ll get to try Yorkshire pudding too because it’s basically sausages baked into one giant Yorkshire pudding.”

“Deal. Toad in the hole it is,” Minho says, already starting to plan. “We’ll get the stuff after this.”

Hayun nods, sipping her drink again. “You’re really about to experience British cuisine, huh?”

Minho looks at her sideways. “Why is it called toad in the hole, though?”

Hayun leans back in her seat. “Something about how toads wait for their prey in burrows, with their heads poking out. Just like sausages peep through the batter.”

Minho stares at her, incredulous. “Why do you know that?”

She shrugs. “Read it once. Eidetic memory, remember?”

Minho shakes his head, smiling. “Yeah, that’s cute and all, but can we circle back to the fact that you, a native Korean, know how to make Western dishes but can’t cook bibimbap without setting something on fire?”

Hayun rolls her eyes, playfully smacking his arm. “It’s not that I can’t! I just don’t. It’s intimidating!”

“Intimidating?” Minho looks genuinely shocked. “It’s literally rice, vegetables, meat, and gochujang. You stir it all together.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Hayun grumbles. “I grew up on instant noodles and convenience store meals, okay? Western stuff was Etta’s thing, and it stuck. Bibimbap was not on the menu in rural America.”

Minho just shakes his head. “Princess, we’re fixing this. Tonight, toad in the hole. Tomorrow, bibimbap lessons.”

“Only if you teach me,” Hayun retorts.

Minho smirks. “Oh, I’m absolutely teaching you. And if you burn anything, you owe me.”

“Deal.” Hayun grins. “But tonight, you’re eating British food. Cheese-covered mashed potatoes and sausage-filled batter coming right up.”

“Sounds divine,” Minho deadpans. “Let’s hope I survive.”

Minho watches as Hayun shifts in her seat, her white mini skirt riding up slightly as she adjusts her position, wincing. “Two o’clock on the dot,” Minho says, glancing at his watch. “That’s one part of Mr. Shin’s schedule mapped out.”

Hayun sighs, leaning back against the seat. “Good. My ass is starting to go numb.”

Minho smirks, leaning closer. “I can smack it to bring the feeling back.”

“No,” Hayun snaps, glaring at him. “You did it earlier, and it still stings.”

Minho chuckles, unapologetic. “Can’t help it. It’s too tempting.”

Hayun groans, taking a long sip of her frappuccino. “You’re incorrigible.”

Minho hums in agreement, starting the car. “Now, let’s go get the toad in the pond stuff.”

Hayun turns to him, her brows furrowed. “It’s toad in the hole!”

“Right, right,” Minho replies, smirking. “Let’s go get the toad in the mud stuff.”

“You’re being patronizing,” Hayun accuses, narrowing her eyes.

Minho puts on his most innocent expression. “Me? Patronizing? Never been patronizing a day in my life.”

“Yeah, right,” Hayun mutters, rolling her eyes as Minho pulls out of the parking lot.

When they arrive at the store, Minho parks and leans back in his seat. “This better be good,” he says, side-eyeing Hayun.

Hayun gasps dramatically, clutching her chest. “Your lack of faith in me hurts, Min.”

Minho raises an eyebrow. “A few weeks ago, you nearly burned my house down.”

“I can’t cook Korean food!” Hayun protests.

“You’re Korean!” Minho retorts, throwing his hands up.

Hayun huffs, crossing her arms. “Most of my foster families weren’t, okay? There’s a surprising number of Westernized people fostering Korean orphans. It’s not like I grew up learning traditional recipes.”

Minho softens slightly, but he doesn’t drop the teasing smirk. “Fine, but I’m holding you to this British masterpiece you keep hyping.”

Inside the store, Hayun grabs Minho’s hand, lacing her fingers through his as she pulls him toward the shopping carts. Minho looks down at her hand, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Dainty little hands,” he remarks.

“Patronizing!” Hayun snaps, tugging him forward.

“Me?” Minho feigns shock. “Never.”

Hayun doesn’t dignify that with a response as she starts loading the cart with ingredients. She grabs flour, eggs, milk, and a pack of sausages. “We’ll need these for the Yorkshire pudding batter,” she explains. “And I could make onion gravy to go with it.”

“You’re the chef tonight,” Minho says, letting her take the lead.

Hayun nods, grabbing onions, stock, and butter. Then she makes her way to the vegetable section, selecting broccoli, carrots, and green beans. “You’re my sous chef,” she declares, dropping the vegetables into the cart. “I’ve grabbed enough to make two toad in the holes in big dishes, so you can take one back to Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin.”

Minho stops pushing the cart for a moment, blinking at her. “You’re too nice.”

Hayun shrugs nonchalantly. “I know Chan misses stuff like this sometimes. He mentions Australia and his family a lot, so if I’m already making it, it’s no big deal to make another. I’ll give you instructions on how to make the gravy.”

Minho stares at her, an unfamiliar warmth spreading in his chest. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

Hayun smiles at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I know. Now let’s check out before you try to talk me out of it.”

As they reach the checkout, Hayun pulls out her phone, ready to tap the card reader. But Minho, quick as lightning, snatches it out of her hand. “Nope,” he declares, holding her phone out of reach.

“Minho!” Hayun whines, reaching for her phone, but he steps back, grinning.

“You’re not paying,” he says, effortlessly balancing the bags in one hand while reaching for his own wallet. “I’m still wooing you, remember? Besides, you’re making this because I asked for it.”

“So what?” Hayun huffs, crossing her arms. “Let me pay, you overgrown flirt.”

Minho merely chuckles as he taps his card to pay. “Not happening, princess.”

He grabs the bags and starts walking toward the door, leaving Hayun no choice but to trail after him. She sighs, glaring at the back of his head. “You don’t have to pay for everything, you know,” she says, a hint of exasperation in her voice. “You paid for my coffee earlier, too. Besides, I thought the wooing would end after we kissed in my bed.”

Minho glances back at her, a teasing glint in his eye. “The wooing doesn’t stop, even once we’re officially dating,” he replies. “But you’re right, I don’t have to do anything. I want to.”

That simple, sincere admission makes Hayun pause, her cheeks warming. She quickly pulls her scarf up over her mouth and nose, trying to hide her reaction.

Minho notices immediately, his smirk widening as he slows his pace to walk beside her. “What’s this?” he asks, his voice dripping with amusement. “Is the princess blushing for big, bad Lee Minho?”

“Shut up,” Hayun mumbles from behind her scarf, refusing to look at him.

Minho laughs as they reach the car. He places the bags in the trunk, glancing over at Hayun, who’s already climbed into the passenger seat. Her scarf is still hiding most of her face, but he can see the tips of her ears, red from embarrassment.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Minho starts the car and adjusts the heaters, turning to her with a mischievous grin. “You know,” he begins, leaning closer as she fumbles with her seatbelt, “I think it’s adorable how flustered you get. It’s nice to know I can have this effect on you.”

“Minho,” Hayun warns, her voice muffled by the scarf.

“What?” he says, feigning innocence. “I’m just pointing out how cute you are. It’s not my fault you’re so easy to tease.”

Hayun groans softly, pulling the scarf higher until it covers her nose entirely. “You’re insufferable,” she mutters.

“Am I?” Minho teases, his tone mockingly hurt. “But you still agreed to let me woo you. If anything, you’re encouraging this behaviour.”

“I take it back,” Hayun jokes, her voice light but muffled. “You’re terrible at this.”

Minho leans back, placing a hand on the steering wheel as he smirks at her. “Oh, princess, if you think this is terrible, wait till I start pulling out the real flirting. This is just the warm-up.”

Hayun peeks at him from behind her scarf, her eyes wide with mock horror. “This is the warm-up? God help me.”

Minho laughs as he shifts the car into drive, sneaking another glance at her as he pulls out of the parking lot. “God can’t help you now, princess. You’re stuck with me. And trust me, I’m not letting you out of this so easily.”

Hayun finally lowers her scarf slightly, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute, or else I’d kick you out of the car.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “I’m the cute one? That’s rich, coming from the girl who blushes at the drop of a hat.”

“Minho!” Hayun protests, half-laughing as she covers her face with her hands.

Minho chuckles softly, his eyes flicking between the road and her. “You’re going to regret letting me know how much you like this, princess,” he warns, his tone low and playful. “Because now, I’m never stopping.”

Minho and Hayun pull into the driveway of Hayun's house. The moment they step inside, Hayun kicks off her white Converse near the door, and Minho follows her into the kitchen, placing the bags of groceries on the counter.

Minho claps his hands together. “Alright, Miss British Cuisine Chef, put me to work.”

Hayun laughs softly, her cheeks slightly pink as she nods toward the groceries. “Okay, we’re making toad in the hole.”

At her words, a commotion comes from the living room. In an instant, Jisung, Jeongin, and Felix burst into the kitchen like excited children. Jisung’s eyes are wide with disbelief. “You’re making toad in the hole?!”

Hayun nods with a grin. “Yeah, Minho’s never had it, so I figured why not.”

Felix clasps his hands together, feigning tears. “Are we getting some, or is this all for him?”

“I’m making two,” Hayun replies, amused by their enthusiasm. “One for us five and one for Minho’s house.”

Jeongin leans against the counter with a wide smile. “Onion gravy too?” he asks hopefully.

“Of course.”

They all whoop in unison, their collective joy making Minho chuckle.

“Why are you guys acting like she’s making Michelin-star food?” Minho teases as Jisung, Jeongin, and Felix retreat back to the living room, clearly thrilled by the news.

“You’ll see,” Jisung shouts over his shoulder. “It’s a fucking masterpiece.”

Once the kitchen clears, Minho rolls up his sleeves. “Alright, boss. What’s first?”

Hayun hands him a cutting board and a knife. “You start chopping the carrots and broccoli. I’ll handle the potatoes.”

Minho gets to work, his knife moving methodically through the vegetables. “So, how do we do the veggies? Fry them?”

“Nope,” Hayun replies, peeling a potato with practised ease. “We steam them. For a dish like this, frying doesn’t fit the vibe. But we do have to boil the potatoes first to mash them. I add garlic cream cheese when I mash them.”

Minho freezes mid-chop, scrunching his nose. “Garlic cream cheese? In mashed potatoes?”

From the living room, Jisung shouts, “It tastes fucking divine!”

Minho shakes his head, amused, and keeps chopping. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Hayun finishes peeling the potatoes, dropping them into a large pot of cold water. She turns on the hob, adds a pinch of salt, and stirs it gently with a wooden spoon. “Potatoes are on. Now we need to make the Yorkshire pudding batter.”

Minho sets down the knife, grabbing the ingredients she’s already laid out. Under her watchful eye, he begins mixing flour, eggs, milk, and a pinch of salt in a bowl. His brows furrow in concentration as he whisks the batter, his arms flexing slightly. Hayun watches quietly, a smile tugging at her lips.

“You’re pretty good at this,” she says.

Minho smirks, not looking up from the bowl. “Told you, I’m a man of many talents. What’s next?”

Hayun lines two deep rectangular dishes with greaseproof paper and preheats the oven. “Frying sausages,” she answers. “I’ll handle the bacon.”

Minho moves to the stove, heating a skillet and tossing in the sausages. As they sizzle, he glances at her. “Why do you need bacon if you’ve already got sausages?”

Hayun grins mischievously as she lays strips of bacon on another skillet. “You’ll see.”

Once the sausages are golden and fragrant, Hayun carefully wraps each one in the cooked bacon. She holds up one of the creations with a smile. “Pigs in blankets.”

Minho raises an eyebrow. “Pigs in blankets?”

“Yeah,” Hayun says. “Sausages are from pigs, and the bacon is the blanket.”

From the living room, Jisung’s voice rings out. “Are you making pigs in blankets toad in the hole?!”

“Yes!” Hayun calls back.

“I love you!” Jisung shouts, making Minho chuckle.

Minho carefully places the last bacon-wrapped sausage into the deep dish, arranging them evenly before stepping back. “Alright, chef. What’s next?”

Hayun grabs the bowl of batter Minho prepared earlier and slowly pours it over the sausages, the pale mixture spreading and filling the dish perfectly. “This,” she says with a grin, “is where the magic happens. The batter rises around the sausages to form a fluffy, crispy Yorkshire pudding.”

Minho watches intently, leaning on the counter as she pours the batter over the second dish. “How does it not just stay soggy?”

“It’s the heat,” Hayun explains as she slides both dishes into the preheated oven. “Super hot oven makes the batter puff up and get crispy on the edges. It’s science, Min.”

Minho hums, clearly unconvinced. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Hayun laughs, setting the timer for thirty minutes and turning back to the counter. “Now, we start the vegetables.”

She moves to the steamer, arranging the broccoli, carrots, and green beans in neat piles in the baskets before setting it up over boiling water. Minho peeks over her shoulder. “Why do you look so precise doing that?”

“Because presentation is part of cooking,” she teases. “Now, check the potatoes.”

Minho lifts the lid on the pot and peers inside. “Why is the heat so low? Aren’t these supposed to boil?”

“They are,” Hayun says, washing her hands. “But we don’t want them done too early. Timing is everything when you’re cooking a big meal. We still need to prep the onion gravy.”

Minho crosses his arms, leaning against the counter as he watches her move around the kitchen. “I feel like I’m just here to be bossed around.”

“You’re here to help,” Hayun corrects, pulling out onions and beginning to peel them. “Now grab a knife and start slicing.”

Minho takes an onion and slices into it, glancing at her. “You know, you’re way too organized for someone who’s burned water before.”

Hayun rolls her eyes. “I didn’t burn water. I just forgot I was boiling it, and the pot went dry.”

Minho chuckles. “Sure, princess.”

They work in comfortable silence for a while, slicing onions and preparing the other ingredients for the gravy. Minho occasionally sneaks glances at her, smiling when he notices how focused she looks, her lips slightly pursed in concentration.

“You’re really good at this,” he says suddenly.

Hayun pauses, looking up at him. “Good at what?”

“Cooking,” Minho replies, gesturing at the organized chaos on the counter. “You’re like... competent. It’s surprising.”

She laughs, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Thanks, I think?”

Minho smirks, brushing a piece of onion off his fingers. “It’s a compliment. Mostly.”

Hayun tosses a bit of onion skin at him, laughing when he flinches. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, here I am, slicing onions for you,” he replies with a grin.

They finish prepping the gravy ingredients, setting them aside for later. Hayun glances at the timer on the oven. “Fifteen minutes left. Let’s check on the batter.”

Minho crouches in front of the oven, squinting through the glass. “Holy shit. It’s puffing up. It actually works.”

“Told you,” Hayun says, leaning over his shoulder to look. “Yorkshire pudding magic.”

Minho straightens, turning to face her with a teasing grin. “You’re not allowed to look this smug.”

“I think I’ve earned it,” Hayun retorts, bumping his shoulder with hers.

Minho grabs the pot of boiled potatoes, draining them into the sink. “Alright, twig wrists, hand me the masher.”

Hayun snorts as she passes him the masher and a mixing bowl. “Jisung usually does the mashing because he insists it’s the most therapeutic part of cooking.”

Minho starts mashing with a dramatic flourish. “Therapeutic for him, labour for me.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Hayun teases, opening the fridge and grabbing the garlic cream cheese. She scoops out a generous dollop, plopping it into the bowl. Then she adds a splash of milk and a pinch of salt. “Here, this will make it heavenly.”

Minho mashes a little harder, mixing everything together. “You know, you keep calling this heavenly, but I have my doubts. What’s so special about garlic cream cheese, anyway?”

“It’s magic,” Hayun replies, her tone almost reverent. “Trust the process.”

“You sound like a Pinterest board,” Minho grumbles but continues mashing until the potatoes are smooth and creamy.

Meanwhile, Hayun turns to the pan of onions sizzling on the stovetop. She stirs them, adding flour and stock to create a rich, aromatic gravy. The kitchen fills with the comforting scent of onions and herbs, making Minho pause mid-mash to sniff the air.

“Alright, maybe I’m starting to believe,” he admits, grabbing five plates. He starts plating up the mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables with precision, clearly trying to impress her.

Hayun glances over. “Look at you, Mr. Perfectionist. Do you want to be a chef in your next life?”

Minho grins. “Nope. I just like showing off.”

The oven timer beeps, and Minho sets down the last plate to pull out the toad in the holes. He carefully places one on the counter for his housemates and brings the other to Hayun. “Here’s your masterpiece, Princess.”

“Don’t call me Princess when you’re holding my creation,” Hayun scolds lightly, but she’s smiling. She quickly starts cutting portions, spooning onion gravy generously over each slice.

Minho picks up the pot of leftover mashed potatoes and takes a bite. His eyes widen. “Holy shit, this is actually really fucking good.”

“Told you,” Hayun says smugly as she drizzles gravy over the last plate. “It’s all about the garlic cream cheese.”

Before Minho can retort, Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin appear in the kitchen, lured by the smell of food. They immediately start peppering Hayun’s face with kisses, one on her cheek, one on her forehead, and one on the top of her head.

“Stop!” Hayun laughs, swatting at them half-heartedly.

The trio suddenly freeze, realizing Minho is standing right there. They all look at him like deer caught in headlights. Minho raises an eyebrow, casually eating another bite of mashed potatoes.

“What?” Minho says, smirking. “You all like dick. I’m not worried. Unless—” He turns to Hayun with mock suspicion. “Something I should know?”

Hayun laughs, raising her hand. “Vagina haver, right here.”

Felix groans, burying his face in his hands. “You’re insufferable.”

Jisung leans against the counter, grinning at Minho. “You’re actually not freaking out. Impressive. Most straight guys would be sweating by now.”

Minho shrugs, still munching on potatoes. “I’m comfortable with my masculinity. Plus, I’ve got the girl, so what do I care?”

Jeongin shakes his head with a laugh. “You’re cocky as hell.”

“Damn right,” Minho replies. “Now sit your asses down and eat. Hayun’s been slaving over this for you ingrates.”

Hayun rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile. She places the plates on the table, and everyone gathers around, digging in with eager anticipation.

Minho takes his first bite of the toad in the hole and pauses, savouring the flavours. “Alright,” he says after a moment. “This is fucking amazing. I take back everything I said about your cooking skills.”

Hayun beams. “Thank you, Min.”

Jeongin raises his glass of water. “To Hayun, the best chef in the house.”

Everyone cheers, clinking their glasses together. Minho leans over to whisper in Hayun’s ear, “You might actually be winning me over with this cooking thing, Princess.”

She nudges him with her elbow, laughing softly. “Good. That’s the plan.”

"But you still can't cook bibimbap for shit,"

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