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#i just realised i put a picture of candy under a picture of candy THERE IS TOO MUCH F*CKING CANDY BUT IT'S J HOPES BDAY SO EVERYTHING IS OK
bruisedboys · 9 months
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Congrats congrats congrats!!! So happy for you!
For the celly: Candy cane with tasm!Peter 
13﹕ sender  takes  a  [ picture / video ]  of  receiver
with Peter taking a picture of reader? Please and thank
hi baby thank you so much!! hope this is okay x
tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
“Y/N,” Peter’s tone is growing more and more impatient by the second, though it’s mostly for dramatics. He’s having fun, you can hear it in his voice, a smile he doesn’t even try to hide. “C’mon, bub. Just let me take one picture of you?”
You bury your hot face further into your hands. You do not want him to take a picture of you. He’s already tortured you with an overbearing amount of compliments and kisses, telling you how your dress makes you look like a princess and your hair is lovely and woah, dove is that glitter on your eyes? You barely tried, only put on the dress in the first place because tonight’s supposed to be a nice date night. But Peter’s spent so long fawning over you that you might miss your dinner reservation.
In any case, you don’t think you can take much more of Peter’s doting. You’re well on your way to becoming a burning flame of a girl.
“No, thank you,” you say primly. “I don’t want my picture taken.”
Peter makes an indignant noise. “But, sweetheart.” His hands grab your knees, hot and firm. “You look so pretty. I just want one.”
“Nope,” you say, stubborn as a rock. You refuse to succumb to his charm.
“Aw, come on, baby.” Peter gets closer. You can’t see him but you can feel his warmth, smell his cologne. His hands slide further up your knees. Your skin prickles. His fingertips slide just under the hem of your dress, nowhere important but high enough to make you want to squirm. He squeezes your upper thighs gently. “Please?”
You know exactly what he’s doing. You’d known he’d do this from the start and still, you’re putty in his hands. You feel his hot hands on you and realise you’d never be able to say no to him.
“Fine,” you mumble. You drop your hands and find Peter closer than you’d thought, smiling at you lopsidedly. He’s really pretty, so pretty it strikes you in the heart like a bullet. “But just one, Pete, I’m serious.”
“Okay,” Peter beams at you, pulling back. “Sure thing, bub.”
You glare at him while he moves back and fiddles with the dials on his camera. You may be acting grumpy about it, but you love him, and you love that he thinks you look nice enough to want a photo of you. He just makes you nervous, is all.
Peter finishes setting up his camera and smiles at you. “Alright, just sit there and look pretty, okay? Should be easy for you.”
“Peter,” you moan, heat crawling up your neck.
Peter just laughs, bringing his camera up to his eyes. “Smile, okay, sweet thing?”
You do as he says. You don’t think you could deny him when he’s talking to you like that.
“Perfect,” he tells you, smiling himself. “Okay, ready? Three, two, one, cheese!” Peter presses down on the button and his camera clicks, the flash blinding you momentarily before the harsh light fades from your vision.
You slide off his bed where he’s seated you as soon as he’s done, glad it’s over. Your peace is short lived, though. As you’re grabbing your purse from the dresser, Peter sneaks another photo of you, the telltale click of the camera shutter giving him away.
“Peter!” You gasp. You shove him in the chest. “You suck! I said only one. I wasn’t ready that time,” you moan.
Peter’s laughing. It doesn’t annoy you as much as it should, not when he looks so happy, not when he grabs your arm and rubs his thumb into your elbow consolingly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, doll. Y’just looked so pretty, I couldn’t help myself.”
You roll your eyes. He’s going to be the death of you one of these days. “Whatever, Pete. C’mon, or we’ll miss our reservation.”
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sumsumstrashbin · 1 year
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𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 ~ 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧
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𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟖𝟓𝟎
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲?
𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲
─────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───────
The sound of leaves crunched beneath your feet as the breeze flowed through your hair. It was a brisk autumn day in the town you resided in, and the market was bustling with wizarding families picking out pumpkins and other goodies. 
You walked hand in hand with James, your partner of five years, and husband of one. He swung your hands together as you walked, chatting about your surroundings. 
“Care for a candy apple, love?” He asked, approaching one of the booths. 
“Sure.” You smiled, letting go of his hand to let him pay.
He held it out to you, waiting for you to take it. As you reached out to take it, he yanked it out of reach. “Excuse me, miss, you owe me some form of payment for this.” He quipped. “A kiss would be sufficient, I suppose.”
You rolled your eyes, giving him a peck on the lips. He then handed the apple to you, taking his compact 35mm film camera out of his pocket. “Smile.”
You held the apple up, giving him your best smile as he snapped the photo. 
“That’s going to turn out lovely.” He grinned, putting the camera back in his pocket. 
You had become very familiar with his camera, as he had a habit of snapping candid photos of you whenever he thought you looked too gorgeous to not be photographed. Despite magical cameras being readily available, he was quite fond of his muggle camera, capturing still photographs rather than the more common moving photos. He also liked bringing the camera into the bedroom, as he couldn’t resist taking a photo or two of you in rather compromising situations. He always kept two photos of you in his wallet: his favourite photo of you during your years at Hogwarts, and one more intimate photo of you that he tucked away behind the other one for “safe keeping”. 
The two of you spent most of the afternoon in the market, and he ensured to spoil you with anything that you may have glanced at for even a second. You ended up at a jewellery booth, admiring a beautiful locket on display. You decided against buying it, as you were content with the things James had already bought for you, so you put it back down and walked off. You quickly realised that James wasn’t following you, so you looked back, only to see him jogging after you.
“Sorry, I didn’t realise you weren’t following me.” You said, taking his hand. You felt something cool and metallic inside of his palm, and he looked down at you with a grin. He placed the object into your hand, while you watched him, confused. When you opened your hand, you found the locket.
“James, you shouldn’t have. It was expensive, and you’ve already bought me enough stuff.”
“I couldn’t resist. It’ll look so beautiful on you. Let me put it on for you.” He took it, stepping behind you to put it on your neck. His minty breath fanned against the back of your neck, and the cool metal of the locket against your skin sent chills through your body. No matter how long you were together, he still managed to give you butterflies. He pressed a loving kiss to the side of your neck before turning you around to have a look at the necklace.
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” You smiled up at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“Hold on, I need to get another picture. Stand right there.”
─────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───────
On the way back to your home, the two of you walked through a quiet park, full of the gorgeous colours of autumn. A rustling sound came from a pile of leaves under a tree, breaking the silence.
“What was that?” You queried, looking over to the source of the sound. 
“Probably just the wind.” James answered.
The rustle was heard again, causing him to turn towards the leaf pile as well. Just as he was about to speak, a small black cat emerged from the leaves, looking at the two of you.
You dropped to your knees, calling it over. “Oh my goodness, what a cutie! Come here!”
“Y/n, I don’t know if calling a random stray cat over is a good idea.” He said, putting a hand on your shoulder.
“Nonsense. It’s just a baby.” You said, watching as the cat slowly approached you. You allowed it to sniff your hand, before it began rubbing its face all over you for pets. 
“Can we keep it, James? Please? It has no collar, and it’s so cute!” You smiled, scratching the cat’s head.
“You know I’m more of a dog person, Y/n.”
“I know, but look how adorable it is! How could you say no to this little face?”
James sighed, knowing it would break your heart if he said no.
“Fine.”
─────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───────
The rest of the evening was spent cuddled up on the couch by the fireplace with James, and your new addition to the family curled up on your lap.
─────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───────
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oops-all-concrete · 7 months
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Hello lovelies, 💘HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!💘
I'm back with more BG3 headcanons! Today's prompt is;
💕Modern AU; Ways the BG3 (romanced) companions are idyllicly sweet with Tav!💕
No spoilers! Tags are; A whole heckin lot of fluff and cuteness!
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Lae'zel -
You have to be careful with what you say around Lae'zel. Made a minor comment 3 months ago that you wanted to revisit somewhere in the Sword Coast? Get packing, you guys are all booked to go. Asked Lae'zel to get you candy on the way home? She has 3 full bags. Say that comment her folks made last time you visited made you uncomfortable- you have a paragraph text apology from all of them the next day. She's not just someone who wants to spoil Tav, she fucking will. (If Tav manages to talk her out of going nuts with the pampering, she's surprisingly sentimental. You bet she keeps a rock in her pocket that reminds her of Tav)
Shadowheart -
She is so excited to post you. She doesn't like social media and tends to keep to herself, but after watching Tav post pictures of them both, she wanted to do the same. The minute she gets even the smallest romantic gesture, she's scrapbooking, she has a wall of Polaroids joined by a horde of hand made sketches, she's putting together little snack baskets and mailing them to Tav, she's about as obviously head over heels as a person can be, really. She's always got a camera aimed at Tav, even if they're just for her. (A good 90% are just for her eyes)
Wyll -
This man never plays games/gets online with both sides of the headphones in. It doesn't matter if the game is online, offline, urgent, time sensitive, dependent on his concentration- if Tav so much as makes a peep, he's out of his seat and across the room. Hells, he takes every chance he gets to go give Tav some attention. In the drift of leaving the waking world, Tav will definitely hear a little "One minute, Tav needs me" despite them not asking. Some footsteps. And then moments later, the warmth of the duvet being tucked all over their body and a gentle kiss to the cheek. Whispered "I love you"s and then a quiet. "I'm going to hop off for a few hours." So you can have some quiet.
Karlach -
She's one of those people that really makes you realise you have good taste in other people. Like, you can't think of a time you went on a walk and she didn't pick up some trash, help an elderly person across the street, immediately offer her seat to a pregnant woman. No matter how prideful Tav might be or not, there's a pride in the admiring looks other people give her. Little girls pass in the street and say "mum, I want to be like her when I grow up!" Everything she does makes Tav proud to be with her, yet somehow Tav is always the one under a spotlight to her. "Oh, me and my partner-" this. "Oh, my partner-" that. "I'm so proud of my Tav. Ugh, I am so lucky" she insists at every turn.
Gale -
He's a night owl, much to Tara's dismay. Wether that's because he can't sleep, he likes being awake in the dark hours or- his brain won't stop nattering at him for a gods damned minute, but either way. He's probably working, quietly cleaning, organising Tavs things so they don't have to worry. In quiet moments, between possibly making them breakfast because of course he's up that early- he's just kissing Tav on the forehead, gently, trying not to wake them. He needs them to sleep but there is not a moment in his day where he doesn't think: "Does Tav know I love them? Can I remind them once more? Even if its just for my peace of mind?" Because he will not rest if he has an inkling his live for Tav isn't at the forefront of their mind.
Astarion -
If you even suggest to this man that you should do matching outfits, he's excited. He always wants to take the wheel, but also wants Tav to have a foot in the idea. He will give ideas left and right, opinions up and down. He doesn't care if it's a date or not, cringe solstice photos, or just gym clothes, he's all for it. If you guys didn't have matching pyjamas already, you have them now, congrats. (If he's still a bloodsucker, he'll definitely still go out of his way to learn how to cook for Tav. Tokyo Ghoul rules though, so Tav gets to taste test a lot. Only the best for his little capri-sun) Overall he's just unashamed and excited to be with someone who very obviously wants to be his, visibly as possible.
(Bonus Halsin!)
Halsin -
This man lives for shared activity. He's quite alright on his own and can allow Tav their space, but going to get massages, haircuts/styles, wine tasting is his total vibe. Just relaxed gatherings together. Nobody lives a spa day like this man. It allows a level of intimacy that nature intends. Cleansing. Careful. Close. He will learn how to do Tavs hair and makeup if asked. Will take pleasure in being able to undress them and put them to bed at the end of a long day. Go on hikes and camping trips, walks through the woods, carving names into rocks and bringing back souvenirs to press into a book that's only getting thicker.
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innytoes · 7 months
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Mistakes were made and the GPP?
Willie was with Carrie and the Candis when they got the call. Well, Carrie got the call. They'd been doing each other's nails, not really watching Magic Mike except for the Good Parts. Kayla had gotten some fancy foaming face mask for them to try and it was ridiculous and fun. Willie wasn't sure if it actually did anything but he liked the way it poofed up.
"You what?" Carrie asked, pressing the phone to her ear. The foam was flaking off her face because of her frown. Uh-oh. "Fine. When my nails are dry. No, you sit and think about what you did."
"Uh-oh," Heather said, echoing Willie's thoughts.
"Do we want to know?" Kayla asked.
"The himbos got arrested," Carrie said, sighing. "They want me to come bail me out."
"I'll come with," Willie volunteered. Carrie drove scarily when she was annoyed. Also, she would totally forget to take pictures of them in jail to share in the group chat.
"Let them wait," Carrie said, leaning back to watch Matt Bomer shake his groove thang on stage. "Maybe that will teach them."
"Have you met them?" Kayla asked, which was a fair question.
By the time their nails were dry, their face masks were washed off and they got to the station, over an hour had passed. As Carrie paid for the bail, Willie had his camera ready. The hangdog expressions as first Reggie, then Alex, and then Luke came out were hilarious.
He wasn't expecting the last person.
"JULIE?" he shouted. "You got Julie arrested? And I wasn't even along for the ride? How could you?"
"Please don't take a picture," Julie begged. "If that somehow gets out to my Tía I won't be able to leave the house until I'm sixty." Even though she didn't even live at home anymore. Willie had met Victoria. She'd find a way.
"Well, we wouldn't want that," Willie said, because he wasn't an asshole. He put the phone away, opening his arms for a hug. Baby's first arrest was always a little scary. He remembered the first time he and Alex were arrested, the guy had been in tears. Julie burrowed into his cozy sweater, letting him wrap her in a hug.
"So what happened?" he asked.
"There was a cat," Reggie said like that explained it all.
"We thought it was in trouble," Alex added.
"We got arrested for trespassing," Julie mumbled into Willie's chest.
"Mistakes were made," Luke ended.
"You four owe me so hard," Carrie said. "I'm not doing the dishes for four months."
"That's fair," Reggie agreed. Luke shrugged, and Alex looked properly chastised. Julie nodded, still not coming up for air. Willie gently patted her head.
"How about we go home and you can tell us all about it," he suggested.
Eventually, the charges were dropped when Reggie sincerely described the owner's cat back to them, down to the little black spot under its eye, and they realised that the four really had just been trying to help. Turned out Fluffy was kind of a murderer, and the blood on her paws had definitely not been hers but some poor squirrel or something.
And Julie's mugshot ended up on the fridge with the others, though carefully hidden whenever Victoria would be over. After all, Willie didn't want to miss her until she was sixty.
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psithurista · 2 years
Text
approach shift pt. eight
pairing: Peter Parker x f!reader (TASM/Andrew Garfield version) length: 4.6k rating: explicit 18+ warnings: Mentions of death, canon-typical violence, depiction of anxiety responses.
Peter Parker is a weirdo. A hot, distracting, irritating weirdo. And you can’t afford distractions right now. So there’s only one thing to do.
series masterlist
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Saturday morning rises blue and cold, and you with it.
You sit blearily upright in bed for too long, wrapped in the covers against the chill as you flick through pictures from last night.
It’s all blurred teeth and disembodied limbs draped in pearl-beaded candy bracelets. There are a lot of people you don’t recognise, but Chris looks deliriously happy, which you figure is the main thing. You feel a fresh pang of guilt for making Bear miss it.
You get to the end of the new posts and start from the beginning again, your eyes glazing past ads for vitamin subscription services and monogrammed phone cases.
You’ll message him today, you tell yourself, yawning, shivering. You just need to work up to it. You don’t want to get the words wrong. Or the tone. Or the timing.
You drag yourself out of bed and shuffle around the apartment wrapped in your comforter, padded like a glass ornament against the world.
You make coffee for yourself and Bear, pouring hers into a vacuum flask to keep hot for when she wakes up. You clean out the grinder—properly, with the little brush it came with, not just shaking it out over the trash, then decide to rearrange the filters into a neat stack so they aren’t all crumpled in the corner.
You’re wiping inside the now-empty drawer when Bear’s door flies open. You catch a glimpse of her as she passes, pillow-creased and frazzled. “I’m so late,” she moans, stumbling into her shoes.
“We didn’t even go out last night; how do you always manage to do this?”
She shrugs, throwing her phone in her bag. “It’s a talent.” You hand her the vacuum flask, and she gasps. “You’re an angel. See you tonight.”
“See you,” you say, watching her go.
Now you’ve taken everything out of the drawers, you figure it’s probably worth doing the same for the rest of the cabinets. You can reorganise everything and actually get a system in place for all the utensils.
It’ll feel good; an easy accomplishment, one you can use to bolster your confidence and sense of capability while trying to decide what to say to Peter.
You put on some music and settle into the rhythm of the task, creating ordered stacks on every surface in the apartment. You unearth the embarrassing ‘STEMing hot stuff!’ mug you’d forgotten about; a joke birthday present from Bear last year.
The morning drips away into afternoon as you hum and sway your way around the apartment. The constant, easy activity keeps you feeling warm and purposeful; it feels so clear, so unconfusing and undemanding on your heart to lift, dust, stack, straighten. You pull all your clothes out of your closet and sort them, finding a jacket you’d forgotten you had and a pair of sneakers with holes in the sides you’d been meaning to throw away.
Once the apartment is vacuumed yet again, couch and all, you light a candle and sit down on the floor to sort the mess of papers and books under the coffee table you’d been meaning to get to. You’d been saving the candle—for what, you aren’t sure anymore—and now the scent of it fills the apartment; sweet and rich. Your stomach growls loudly and you pause, looking at your phone for the first time.
You blink. That can’t be the right time. But it is. Because then Bear’s keys are jingling in the door, and you realise it’s gotten cold again, and you can’t see out the windows anymore because they’ve become black rectangles mirroring the spotless apartment and your own startled face back at you.
“Holy shit,” she says. “It smells like Pine-Sol in here.”
You look up at her vaguely sheepishly as though she’s caught you doing something you shouldn’t be. “Yeah. I, um, did a little cleaning.”
“A little?” She side-eyes you. “This reminds me of that time you procrastinated for like two weeks contesting that bullshit score you got, when you were too nervous to ask about it.”
“I’m not procrastinating,” you say, affronted.
She stares at you.
“I’m not,” you say.
It’s not like you’ve been intentionally avoiding the message you need to send. You just needed to clear your head first. And the apartment really was overdue for a good clean.
“All our dish rags have been colour-coded,” she observes, her head inside a cupboard.
You keep busy for the rest of the night, taking the world’s longest shower, and then using every single skincare product you can find in the back of the bathroom drawers, including the sample sachets Bear had shoved back there.
Bathed and moisturised and dressed in your softest pajamas, you sit on the edge of your bed and glare at your phone.
Should you be casual about it? Apologetic? Blunt?
You’re overthinking it. Just keep it simple.
hey parker hope you’re doing okay. can i come by? i miss
hey peter. i was thinking and i just really want to apologise for losing my shit at you that night after may’s birthday. but i just think it’s kind of shitty how you
peter, i’m so, so sorry. why didn’t you tell me about
You groan and toss your phone into the pillows piled at the head of your bed. You’re tired. Too tired to think about any of this. You hadn’t realised until now how much the day had taken out of you, but now you’re feeling all that scrubbing in your forearms.
Tomorrow, you think, burrowing down into the warmth of your bed. Tomorrow. —————
Bear drags you out of the apartment the moment you wake up. First to walk laps around the greenmarket, then to what feels like every used bookstore in the city.
You trail her through stacks of shabby Penguins turned spine-out in varying shades of faded orange while she tells you about the girl she’s only just started messaging who may or may not be hinting for her to move in with her already, and try not to look too devastated at the prospect.
“It probably won’t happen though,” she says, frowning at the back of a hardcover Magritte print book. “It’s just something she’s been dropping into conversation and, like, I can’t tell if it’s still a joke or not. Hey, we should go get a matcha.”
By the time you make it home that afternoon, you’re full and happy and barely miserable at all. You curl lazily into the couch while Bear starts on a stir-fry, scrolling through your phone. You’d set up a news alert months ago for Oscorp, back when the dream of working there was still just that, and now you skim through the day’s notifications.
There’s a quarterly financial profile, and a glowing article about one of the company’s recent charitable endeavours; providing water filtration systems to flood-ravaged parts of Papua New Guinea.
You only read the first few lines of it, wondering a little grimly how much PR paid for it to be published. You should probably delete the alert; you’re sick of thinking about work on the weekends. But then, just as you’re about to scroll away, something catches your eye.
'SIX YEARS ON: Has anything changed? Advocates for workplace reform have raised concerns Oscorp hasn’t done enough to meet its court-mandated commitment to transform management of company operations following the release of details from its most recent external review. The damning report comes only weeks after the anniversary of the death of Oscorp intern Gwen Stacy, who has been remembered by a company spokesperson as a “brilliant scientific mind sadly taken far too soon.”
The incident garnered a storm of public interest after allegations Oscorp had attempted to conceal details surrounding then-chairman Harry Osborn’s involvement in the events leading up to Stacy’s death. Unnamed Oscorp sources claimed Osborn was working under the influence of an unreleased drug which had not yet been approved for trials.
While the coroner’s report ruled the death as accidental, Stacy’s family have previously spoken to news outlets asserting the view that Oscorp’s failure to control access to untested pharmaceutical samples led to the tragic event. They did not respond to requests for comment.'
There’s a picture of a girl underneath the article; blonde and freckled and grinning toothily from behind a beakerful of clear liquid. She has the hugest, greenest eyes you’ve ever seen.
You read it three times before you put your phone down and stare at your feet for a few seconds, listening to the sound of your heart pushing blood around inside your head. Then, you pick your phone back up, open a new browser window, and start typing. —————
It’s colder inside than it was outside.
You unclasp your hands from between your knees, shivery and restless, and lean back from the desk to hug yourself, wrapping your arms tight around your body.
Gary’s cheeks are even redder than usual, bright with windburn; redder than his hair and the raw-looking skin around his eyes. He has a half-eaten almond croissant in his hand and there are crumbs all over the front of his coat.
Your leg bounces under your desk while he absently unwinds his scarf from around his neck, first in one direction, then, realising he’s just winding it tighter, in the other direction. He sets his satchel down and unclips it, ponderously slow.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen anybody in less of a rush in your entire life.
When he finally sits, you only manage to wait a few more seconds before you’re wheeling yourself in his direction.
“Hi Gary.”
He swivels his chair to face you, his face completely devoid of emotion. “Hello,” he says.
You scoot your chair a little closer. “Did you have a nice weekend?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. That’s good.” You look at each other for a minute. “I like your plant. Is that one of the ones they were giving out from the Wellness Lounge?”
“It’s fake.”
“Well,” you say slowly, “at least they’re trying to branch out.” You continue looking at each other.
He nods solemnly. “That’s funny.”
You give up. “I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions. About Oscorp. You’ve been here a long time, right?”
“I guess. Would you consider seventeen years a long time?” He doesn’t ask it with any apparent sarcasm. You don’t answer, just in case it’s rhetorical.
“I wondered if you know much about what happened with Harry Osborn.”
He looks at you with what might pass for mild suspicion. “It’s classified. You’re not going to put this on the internet, are you?“
You shake your head, giving him a little smile. “Just curious. I happened to get here kinda early this morning and stumbled across a few files while I was working. There are entire pages redacted and it just seemed really weird, so I just wondered what it was all about.”
He shoots a quick glance behind you, then lowers his voice. “Yeah, they really didn’t want any of it getting out. He was messing around with unapproved samples, even testing them on himself. And it did something to him, he went completely nuts. Took one of the interns hostage, then he killed her.”
Your heart rattles jagged and loose in your chest. “Gwen Stacy.”
He nods. There’s powdered sugar in his moustache. “Yep. They ruled it an accident, and that was the official story, but all of us who were working here then heard whispers trickle down about what really happened.”
“But why?”
“Who knows? Like I said, he went completely crazy. I doubt he even knew what he was doing. The facility he’s in? It’s not really a hospital. Or, it’s a maximum security hospital, if you get my drift. That’s why we don’t have the intern program anymore. Only graduate positions. You’re the replacement.”
It feels a little bit like how you imagine swallowing drain cleaner must feel. “The replacement,” you echo weakly. “That’s me.”
He seems to realise then how much he’s said, and he snaps his mouth closed. A beat passes, then he squints. “They made you sign an NDA when you started, right?”
You force a little smile. “Sure did.”
He still doesn’t look completely convinced, but then, it’s hard to tell when his face is about as animated as the plastic succulent on his desk. “Well. Good. I better get to work.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
You awkwardly scoot yourself back to your desk and stare at your reflection in the black monitor for a while. So May had left out a pretty important detail. Losing Harry and Gwen simultaneously hadn’t just been a case of unfortunate timing.
Gary’s confirmed everything you read, but it’s only made you more frustrated. There’s still something huge and obvious missing here that you can’t find in any of the files or reports or news articles, and it’s the thing you’re most confused about, more than whatever Harry Osborn was doing, performing reckless testing on himself.
Namely: what in the fuck was Peter doing there when it happened?
You’re still facing off with yourself when Doctor Brant walks in and you nearly knock all the shit off your desk in your scramble to look busy.
The day can’t pass fast enough.
Nothing seems to go right. The bottle slips out of your hand while you’re trying to refill the autoclave and you end up pouring distilled water all over your shoes. You forget your swipe card when you go downstairs to pick up a box of equipment and have to call security to let you back into your office.
And to top it all off, you’re still having issues with your starting cultures. You’re standing at the bench in the lab, frowning at yet another failed batch, when there’s a strange wheezing hiss from the vents overhead.
You look up.
Of course it’d just be the cherry on top if the air gave out and you ended up passing out from preservative fumes. 
You’re the only one in here at the moment; everyone else is back in the main office, so you carefully replace the lid on your samples and head for the airflow controls.
Which is when the lab plunges into complete darkness.
“Oh, great,” you breathe. You stretch your arms out in front of yourself, groping for walls. “Hello?” you call. “Is anyone else here?”
There’s no answer. You spin around and bump into the cold steel edge of a workbench. Fear trickles into your stomach as you realise you don’t know which way to go. Something smells off, like melting plastic.
The ground rumbles under your feet, and emergency lights flick on in little strips along the floor. Some of the panic leaves your body, and you make it to the doors, slapping your palm hard over the manual release so you can get out.
Everyone in the darkened office is standing around confused and talking loudly at once. A few people have the flashlights on their cells turned on, and you hold your hands out to block the light from your eyes, sidling toward the walls to get away as they all turn to blind you at once.
Doctor Brant‘s face looms out from the shadows of his office doorway looking tense. You make a beeline for him. “What’s going on?” you say, awkwardly falling into step beside him. “Power outage?”
He barely glances at you, striding forward. “So it seems. But the backup should have come on by now.”
You realise then where he’s headed and your mouth drops open. “Oh fuck. The freezers.”
A wry look barely breaks through the worry on his face. “Oh fuck, indeed.”
Some of the samples in those freezers are originals, more than twenty years old. If they warm past a certain temperature…
That’s years of work, gone.
The plastic smell has grown stronger, and there’s the distant sound of an alarm ringing, long and unbroken. A couple of people exchange tense looks as you trail Doctor Brant past them. “Should we be getting out of here?” someone says.
“It’s probably another drill,” someone replies, sounding unconvinced.
“Yeah, but. With the power cut?”
Doctor Brant pauses to look back around the office, his hand on the glass doors leading toward the freezers. “Everybody, please make your way outside. Meet at the assembly point. I’ll be down behind you.”
There’s some half-hearted grumbling about this; it’s a long way down using the evacuation stairs instead of the elevators, but then a low, distant rumble sounds from somewhere underfoot and everybody shuts up. There’s a brief bottleneck at the door as everyone tries to squeeze through it at once.
Your desk is on the other side of the office. You can practically hear the voice of your elementary school teacher in your head: stay calm, forget about your personal belongings, keep up with the group.
But your phone is sitting right in the centre of your desk. It’ll only take you an extra second to grab it.
You shuffle forward gingerly, just to make sure you aren’t about to blind yourself walking into the edge of a shelf in the gloom. Without the extra light from everyone’s phones, it’s even darker than before. Dust motes fall shivering off the lifeless light fixtures overhead as the building vibrates again, harder this time.
You slide your phone off the desk and flip it over so you can stick it into your back pocket, barely glancing at the notification on the screen. Then, the words belatedly registering, you stop. You don’t mean to. You need to get to the stairwell. But you can’t force your body to move.
1 Unread Message from: p.p.
Read it later, you think furiously at yourself. Later, later, later.
But your feet are still rooted to the floor. You need to see what he’s sent. You’ll be quick. Just a glance.
You stand stupid with panic and indecision, neither opening the message nor unrooting your feet. You’re frozen for what feels like a long time, but must only be a couple of seconds.
And then the decision is made for you.
The wall closest to the foyer rushes outward in a tsunami of smoke and insulation, and you hit the edge of your desk hard.
Everything goes black for a couple of seconds. Your eyes are squeezed shut against the grit of dust, and your ears hurt; ringing with burst-out silence. There’s the taste of blood in your mouth from where your teeth snapped shut against the inside of your lip and it feels like you hit your head somewhere on the way down.
When you manage to blink your eyes open again, you’re slumped half-under the desk. Probably a good thing, your shocked brain manages to think; it probably sheltered you from the ceiling panels crashing down. You scramble onto your knees, trying to ignore how unsteady you feel, and peer out.
You can’t see beyond the next row of desks. The smoke is too thick; and it’s too dark to make out much more than the twist of wires hanging from the ceiling where the lights have fallen loose.
“Shit,” you gasp. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.”
You lean back against the desk and try to think. The smoke is coming from the direction of the stairs to the main foyer, which means you can’t get out that way anymore. If the stairs are even still there.
Is there another way down from this level? Surely there must be. You probe your fingers delicately at the back of your head and wince. You have no idea what happened to your phone, so you’ve got no flashlight.
The lab, you think. There’s another emergency exit through to the other side of the lab. The stairs are behind a firewall.
You manage to get your feet underneath your body and shakily stand. It’s quickly becoming unbearably hot in here without the air working. You tuck your mouth and nose into the crook of your elbow as you pick your way forward. Your hearing is starting to come back a little; just a dull roaring sound and that alarm in the distance, still blaring.
You make it all the way to the lab door before it hits you. Doctor Brant.
You wheel around, squinting through the smoke. Fuck. Could he have made it out with the others? Maybe he’s already gone downstairs and is safe, waiting outside somewhere. You only need to think about it for a second before you know you can’t possibly leave without making sure.
You lurch toward the first of the control doors. “Doctor Brant?” The air burns your throat on the way in, and you cough so hard it feels more like a heave.
The heat is worse over here. You touch your hand to the release and hiss, pulling it back. The metal feels like touching the element on a stovetop.
Maybe you can wrap something around your skin to protect it. You hear what sounds like your name, yelled hoarse, and pause. You can’t tell which direction it came from. “I’m here! Oh, God. Doctor Brant? I’m right here. I’m gonna try to find another way to get you out. Hang on.”
You turn to search for something; a discarded jacket, or scarf from the back of somebody’s chair, and there’s a flicker of movement at the other side of the office. The sight unleashes a fresh screech of alarm in your brain. You duck behind one of the still-standing desks and peer out just in time to catch a shock of bright red swimming out from the haze.
You lean around the side, blinking, trying to make it out. The shape turns, and you see it right as it comes toward you: the panels of blue disturbing the red, the printed black over the chest; the long, sharp legs jointed out from the body. Him. Again.
Your stomach drops out. You seize the pen cup from the top of the desk and throw it as hard as you can, stopping him in his tracks.
“You stay the fuck away from me,” you warn, pointing, stumbling backwards.
“Jesus, stop, fuck—” he splutters, hands outstretched, ducking to dodge as you launch a wireless keyboard at him. You dash behind a pillar and run bent-over toward the maintenance hallway. You don’t know if he saw you, or if he’s following.
You know you should probably stop and consider why you’re actually running away from him when he’s probably only trying to help you. But your heart is going too fast for intelligent thought right now. Like a rabbit, without reason or rationale, fuelled by terror and adrenaline.
You hit a dead end and stop. Can you get to the other exit from here? What about Doctor Brant? Your eyes are burning and you scrub the back of your arm across them to try to clear the smoke. You turn to go back the way you came. But he’s there. And he’s already coming toward you. You let out a strange, retching sob-sound. “No. No, no, please, no, get away.”
He steps forward, angular grey eyes looming up out of the smoke and you wheel away. “Hey, stop, don’t go that way—”
Your lungs are on fire, and your eyes are streaming so badly you can’t tell which way to turn to run. He closes the distance between your bodies and then his hands are on your shoulders.
“Listen. Hey, hey, stop, we don’t have time for this, listen, listen to me.” You’re panicking, blind and overwhelmed and terrified, your heart clawing its way up your throat, trying to shove his hands away.
There’s something wrong with all of this. His voice doesn’t sound like you remember—but it does sound the way you know it’s supposed to, and that makes no sense, and your brain is screaming the explanation at you like a cageful of trapped birds screeching and beating against the inside of your skull, but you’re fighting it too hard to listen.
The floor has started vibrating under your feet again, and everything rumbles and groans; a loud pop of breaking glass audible far too close for comfort, but you don’t stop shoving at him as hard as you can, still twisting, trying to get away.
Then one of his hands is around your waist, pulling you flush against him so you can’t twist away, and another is on your face, pushing back your hair. His voice is back, loud and firm and right in your ear, cutting through the rush of noise, and it’s wrong, wrong, wrong.
“Listen to me. Jersey.”
It falls absolutely silent inside your head. You can still feel the smoke in your eyes, in your mouth, but you’re no longer coughing.
You’re no longer breathing.
He’s still talking, the shape of his lips moving alien through the thin red stretch of his mask. “Just breathe. I’m gonna get you outta here. But you gotta tell me if there’s anyone else in the lab who needs help. Hey. Hey, hey, breathe.”
Your mouth moves on its own. “Doctor Brant. He was in the sample freezer. He was…he…”
“Breathe,” he says again, quiet, and you do. The hands that had been shoving at his chest now press shakily to the shape of his body underneath, and, dazedly, you trace the outline of his collarbones. Your throat burns.
“You. You idiot,” you gasp hoarsely, new tears springing to your eyes. “Peter, you—you, you fucking, you idiot—”
“Yeah, trust me, I know,” he says, wrapping his other arm around your waist, and then the ground disappears from beneath your feet.
You sag your weight against him as he pulls you forward through the smoke. Something shears bright against your face and you tuck down into his chest, both of his arms keeping you tucked away from a sudden blaze of light and heat. There’s a crash from behind you, then another in front, and suddenly beautiful, clean, cold air is rushing at your skin, pulling your hair free.
Broken glass crunches under your feet as they finally meet the ground. The arm around your waist releases you, and he’s gone.
You blink in the bright sun. You’re outside. Then all the noise rushes back in, and there are new arms around you.
“Hey! We got another one, get her out of here…”
“Are you okay?” someone is saying, their safety hat-shadowed face close to yours. 
“Careful of the bleeding. Here, take her,” comes another voice. You can barely hear them under the wail of sirens.
“She’s in shock,” the first person says, and there’s a hand on your arm, pulling you forward, toward the ambulances and fire engines lined up across the street. You look back over your shoulder. They’ve cordoned off the entire block. There’s ash in your mouth, and you nearly stumble.
The person holding you pauses, turning back toward you. “What? Did you say something?” They’re half-shouting to be heard. They’re just a blur, like a stranger in a dream.
You stare at them. It feels like your face is doing something incredibly interesting. Did you say something? The ash is gritty like sand against your teeth, on your tongue.
“I need to get back inside,” you hear yourself saying now, quiet and clear, your voice disconnected from your mouth. You need to get back into the building. You need to.
“What?”
Then you’re shoving at the hand on your arm, twisting out of their grip. Someone shouts out with alarm behind you, and you’re running, clumsily, tripping over rubble as you throw yourself back toward the police barricade blocking the entrance to the building.
“Stop! You can’t go in there!”
You don’t care. You’re not leaving him.
Which is when there’s a shriek of metal overhead. You and everybody else on the street look up just in time to watch every remaining window on the top half of the building explode outward in shards of skin-melting heat.
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devilcantspeell · 2 months
Note
BLOOD FOR THE WORLDBUILDING ASK GAME. hi ben <3
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CASSIAN YOU FUCKING LEGEND I love you for this <3
WORLDBUILDING ASK GAME:
WITH PICTURES!
WARNINGS! ⚠️: Cartoon blood, cartoon gore, body horror, diseases/medical horror, child abuse mentioned, sex mentioned.
.
1. BLOOD - Does everyone bleed the same colour? If not, why not?
The world is run by 3 Major Races! Two are organic, one is mechanic.
In order of hierarchy: Crystalline, Human, and Robot.
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2. PEPPER - What is the deadliest poison?
I was wondering what to put for this one before realising there is essentially a 'poison' a strong enough crystalline may give someone manually.
Medusa Rot, or Crystalline Petrification.
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It's given by an aggravated spike- this can be purposeful to attack someone or even accidental if the attacker is panicked/agitated enough, and can't control their powers.
Considering how nobles and strong crystallines gave dwindled over the years, and such harsh powers haven't been needed- it's incredibly under-researcved, like an extinct dissease.
So it's not likely the victim or the attacker know.
A timeline of it's affects: Body horror/Medical horror warning?
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It affects organic species. However if given to a robot, it's likely it will just fight it's way through it and clog up their systems with crystal growth, giving a relatively similar affect that's got a slightly higher survival chance.
3. CANDY - How do they treat children?
This very much depends on the household!
Though in most houses, Children are raised religious relative to area. Most commonly, Lunnox (In-universe religion of worship of the moon, enforced by the Cobalt Empire which rules the majority of the world and is the largest power.)
If a child is born to a Human and Crystalline, it's likely to be abandoned or orphaned, due to how taboo half-breeds are. The child will appear entirely human, other than perhaps some odd colouring. (Coloured hair, eyes, birthmarks.)
If a halfbred child is kept, the crystalline is almost definite to lose any higher status, and the human is likely to he rejected by peers also. Most halfbreds will just say they're human for slightly better treatment.
Robot children are rare-
Robots are essentially dead souls made posses a robot host body, most likely with their memories gone to function as some sort of labour or built for a purpose.
So if a child is a robot, it's more likely they come from a wealthy family, and after dying or getting sick too soon, was rebuilt as a robot- and kept their memories. This can be controversial. Some consider it mutilation or depriving a child of their original race, some consider it fair to let a child live on.
Noble crystalline children?
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Uhhhhhh. yeah.
MOVING ON, FINALLY:
4. BLUSH - What is their view on sex?
Sex, due to the empire being very conservative religious in it's ways, is a taboo thing to discuss.
It's not entirely medieval though, in an 'everyone be celibate' way. Its moreso taboo to discuss in places such as work or in front of elders and superiors- most adults and teens in the modern day will brag about it, or crack sex jokes and stuff like that, similar to your average modern day society. It's still a rather gossipy subject though.
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example: If a frat house was personified Vs Bible thumper
YAY IM DONE
Reblogs appreciated!!!
I spent a ridiculous amount of time on this for something that isn't fandom content 💀
So uhhh. Reblog to kill Onyx's dad with hammers idk
Ask post here if anyone wanna ask other things and my askbox is just open in general :)
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wolken-himmel · 3 years
Text
In which Malleus takes (Y/n) to the Valley of Thorns during school break and introduces her to his grandmother.
(Y/n) and the queen seem to get along well, maybe too well for Malleus' taste...
Request by anon.
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"My treasure, I fear I cannot join you for lunch today... there are some important matters I need to attend to. I hope you're not sad."
Malleus had a sheepish smile on his lips as he gazed down at you with soft eyes. His gaze remained on your face, waiting for your lips to tug down in dismay and for your eyes to sink in sadness.
Yet, what he received instead was a large smile and a dismissive wave of your hand. "No, don't worry about it!" you replied, causing him to snap back to reality in surprise. His green eyes widened in disappointment when the smile on your face only grew. "Your grandmother invited me for tea today. That's so nice of her, isn't it?"
Still, he tried to put on a smile that seemed more forced than genuine. It caused the servants scurrying along the corridor to gasp out in horror and walk past you even faster, afraid of the prince's wrath. His fists shook in what seemed like frustration when he seethed out, "Well, I'm glad you're not saddened..." The smile on his lips completely slipped off his face when you turned around without another word and skipped away.
"I'll see you later, then!" you threw over your shoulder upon realising that you had left him standing there all alone without a goodbye.
Malleus watched you leave, his eyes filled with sadness, until you rounded a corner and completely disappeared from his sight. It was only then that he dared to let out a low growl that shook the floor in form of a small earthquake. The servants dove under tables, afraid of the cracking ceiling and the small particles of dust descending down upon them. When the fae noticed what he had done, he quickly unclenched his hands again, causing the earthquake to vanish. Sadly, his flurry of emotions didn't disappear as easily.
The prince didn't know how long he stood there until one of his retainers approached him — Lilia. The bat fae had a little frown on his face as he waved his hands in front of Malleus' face in an attempt to catch his attention. Once green eyes bore into his own, Lilia quickly asked, "Malleus, are you ready to leave—" The words seemed stuck in his throat when he noticed how sad the prince looked, and he couldn't help but float up to ruffle his hair. "Oh, what's with that pout on your face? Did someone steal your candy again?"
Malleus tried to push Lilia away, but the latter dodged his swipes with unmatched grace. Eventually, the dragon fae gave up and let out a sigh of defeat. "No, Lilia... it's just that my Child of Man seems unaffected by the fact that I can't spend time with her," he grumbled under his breath, an unintentional childishness ringing in his voice.
Lilia had to hold back his laughter at that. "Did you expect her to start crying and begging for you to not leave her alone?" he asked the younger fae in amusement, his hand covering his mouth in an attempt to hide the chortles that escaped his throat.
"Yes," Malleus replied seriously, "I did, as a matter of fact."
Lilia could only shake his head in delight. "Malleus, Malleus..." the ancient fae cooed under his breath and gently took the other's hand into his. Yet, before he could start a heartfelt talk — from father to son — the sound of vases crashing to the floor and two young men arguing came from a nearby room. Lilia faltered and let out a little sigh before dragging Malleus along with him. "Come on, we need to go before Sebek starts complaining again—"
°°°
Time had passed by agonisingly slow for Malleus as his retainers dragged him around to fulfill his royal duties as the future king of the Valley of Thorns. His thoughts during the whole process had tortured him of pictures of you smiling and having fun without him while he was stuck attending boring events. So, when he was finally done for the day and allowed to leave, he immediately vanished and marched towards the room you stayed in, eager to finally spend time with you.
Some part of him filled his mind of thoughts about how you must have changed your mind and started to miss him dearly after his departure. He imagined the smile on your lips when he would fling the doors open and whisk you away to show you the castle grounds and take a walk in the castle's garden.
His hands resting on the doorknob, he exclaimed, "(Y/n), my treasure, I have returned—" Yet, he faltered in his movement when he pushed the doors open to find the room empty of any life. Dreadful silence filled the air around him, especially when your familiar laughter rang out from a nearby room — his grandmother's study room. Immediately, his eyes darkened in bitterness. "Oh, I see how it is..." Without wasting any time, he marched towards the door in question and pressed his ear against the surface, gloomily listening in.
The queen had a small smile on her face, the faintest of laughter still evident in her voice as she asked, "Actually, Beastie, I have been meaning to ask how the two of you met." Then, she fell into a small moment of silence, genuine curiosity decorating her youthful face. "You two seem very different from each other..."
A little chortle escaped your lips at the memory of your first meeting rushing back to your mind. The smile on your lips grew as you began, "Oh, Malleus just appeared in my garden one day! He said he liked the gargoyles of the building I'm staying in, and he just kept on visiting night after night." Your eyes glowed up in fondness. "I found him rather strange at first... He didn't tell me his name, maybe to appear mysterious and such—"
The queen quirked an eyebrow. "So you didn't know his name until later?"
"Correct, I didn't." Your smile turned into a sly grin. "A friend of mine came up with a nickname for him. It's very funny..."
The queen's lips tugged up into a curious smile. "Tell me, Beastie," she urged in excitement.
You couldn't help but giggle before you leant forward and cupped your hands around your mouth to whisper something into her pointed ear. Malleus furrowed his eyebrows, but no matter how much he focused, his ears couldn't pick up what you were saying, infuriating him even more.
His anger only got worse when his grandmother began laughing like she never had before. "That truly is a funny nickname," she mused between soft chuckles. You nodded along, soon prompting her eyes to soften as she gazed at you with fond eyes. "You know, I am glad that the two of you met each other. I rarely have ever seen such a bright spirit such as yours. You remind me of another human child I once met and grew fond of long ago."
The smile on your lips wavered for a moment, and doubt flashed across your face. Your gaze downcast and voice shaky, you murmured, "I like Malleus, I really do..." Behind the door, the fae tensed in fear at what you were about to say, frightened that it may be something that he shouldn't hear. His eyes forced shut, he bit his lips. "But sometimes I just feel like a speck of dirt when standing next to him. He's... the future king of the fae, and who am I? Just some magicless human."
His eyes shot open in surprise. There was nothing he wanted to do more than barge in and take you into his arms to convince you that you were utterly wrong, but surely you wouldn't like the idea that he had listened in on such a private conversation. So, no matter how much it pained him, he stayed outside and gritted his teeth.
After a while of awkward silence, the queen let out a little sigh and took your hand into hers. Her skin was cold yet smooth, causing a shudder to run down your spine. "While magic is something that makes people strong, I do think that you have your own strengths, Beastie," she explained as her glowing green eyes bore into yours. "Such as bringing a smile to other's people faces — a skill one of its kind."
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dumbfizzkpop-blog · 7 years
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🍒 Jung Hoseok Aesthetic Ship 
Requested by: @xxxibmimi
“Hi! I was wondering if I can get an Aesthetic Ship with a BTS member? Thank you so much!” 
Your Aesthetics
Jumping with enthusiasm during night walks
Uncontained laughter
Neatly wrapped presents decorated with roses
Growing old with your loved ones
Honey tasting kisses
Oversleep and lose important meetings 
Sugar coated marshmallow treats
Eyes full of hope and happiness
Open arms waiting for a warm hug
Keeping roses as bookmarks
Your Song: Cherry on top by 10:45 (Uni+ G)
Put my cherry on top, put my cherry on top My heart becomes like a cushion, it knows that taste, it’s cake A different love, it only comes to us.
Give me love, give me love, give me love Baby, you're so sweet Give me love, give me love, give love Baby no more. Give me love, give me love, give me love. Come on give me one more. For you, for you, for you, for you love. Baby for you, only for you. You're so sweet, baby sweet and sour. You're so sweet, it get's so sweet. You only look at me, cherry on top. I liked you because you're special to me.
~Admin G🌹
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rumblelibrary · 3 years
Note
Hello 👀❤️
So... I don't know if this will work or not, but I thought why not, I send it in... And if you don't like it, that's completely fine ❤️🔥
I really like how you write the characters' mind... What they are thinking or how they act... I was thinking, maybe a new mechanic (Reader) at Ferrari (yes, it's a Niki Lauda fic, you know me❤️🔥) who is really shy, but very good at their job, and Niki likes them and he is an asshole with everyone (which is normal from him) EXCEPT with the Reader... And like... Maybe at first he doesn't realize this, but then he does, and gets all conflicted like why is he getting soft suddenly, out of nowhere... (It is obvious, but not for him)... I'm curious how you would see this, write this... The ending of this story is up to you ❤️❤️
Love you ❤️🔥👀
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What Is This Feeling [Niki Lauda x Mechanic!Reader]
Word count: 2.5k Warnings: lot of swearing by our favourite Rat King Author’s note: Niki is quickly turning into my comfort character to unleash my sass, thank you for giving me the chance to write him!
Part 2
On your first day at Ferrari nobody took you seriously, but to be a mechanic wasn’t exactly typing letters, it was not a place where somebody high up in the ranks would set a lover to give her some benefit and a free pay check.
You didn’t talk a lot, you stood your ground from the moment you put hands on any part of the car, but you weren’t exactly the chatty type and, being the only woman, it took you time to be allowed to the after work beer, to the birthdays and all the balancing that came with a good team spirit.
In a world full of bias about women, you were spared thanks to your abilities and knowledge. Or maybe, because the mechanics team had someone bigger to fight: Niki Lauda.
To work with him was thrilling, but stressful.
He would walk in at any hour of the day, break some egos, pile up an amount of changes that to make a brand new car would be a faster option.
You sat on the floor beside the baby, yes baby was the car, it wasn’t like you had to stay on the floor, there were more than plenty working stations, but it felt more comfortable for you: it gave you the chance to stand and look at things from afar, you were in need to touch, to understand, to put things together. It was your skill, but also your curse, because it was hard to gain yourself a space on the floor in such a fast paced environment like the one at Ferrari. You were working on the ignition when he stormed inside, the soft chats died fast and the noise of the radio was the only thing left, but he didn’t seem to mind the effect he had on people.
In a couple of long steps he was in front of one of your colleagues.
“What is this?” The man looked down to his sandwich like it was self explanatory, but the following silence brought him to answer “my lunch”
“Nice” Niki said, his lips curling downward in a very sarcastic amusement “well, take your lunch out of my garage because I don’t want your crumbles in my engine” he hissed picking the crumbles that effectively fell on the working table and sprinkling them like salt on the man’s face.
The man frowned and left to eat outside and avoid to punch him as Niki proceeded to his next victim.
“And you call this a design development? I call this dog shit”
“If this is a well done job, I’d better retire already before I get your good job to crack my skull open”
“Just begin again, don’t even ask”
“Are you sure you don’t work for McLaren? Because by the quality of your work I am starting to wonder”
One after the other all your colleagues fell under the axe of Niki’s commentary.
Nobody was spared, it was a butchery.
“So? What is this?”
You looked up at him as he towered over you, Satan himself would be less scary, and probably less attractive, to your eyes. His standing figure with rebel curls and his Ray-ban glasses in his left hand, the polo shirt under the fancy jacket, even his bad character gave him the edge so many men more conventionally attractive lack.
“I am working on the ignition” you said as he bent down crouching beside you as you showed him, his cologne filling your nostrils like the best smell your nose ever encountered.
“Okay, in what way?” He asked resting his elbows on his knees.
You gulped softly “Well, I am trying to experiment if I change this in here” and you pointed to a section in particular “maybe the car will have a better performance at the beginning of the race”
“Have you considered that it could over work the battery?”
“I did, but I wanted to see if I make here something like this” and you took a little tube showing how you lace it around the section “if I use this to push the cooler to work into this part as well, we might avoid over heating”
He listened touching his chin with the edge of his glasses thoughtfully.
“Give it a try”
He just said standing up.
Your colleagues looked at you shaking their heads as he turned around and everybody looked down to their tasks again, so then he left.
______________________________________________________________________ This wasn’t the first time, he wasn’t letting you do things he didn’t approve, but he always listened to you, he advised you, and the harshest thing he said was probably “I think you’re not looking at the bigger picture”
Nobody commented on it and beside some joke here and there, the little preference he had over you seemed to pass unnoticed mostly by him.
“You know, you really need a girlfriend” Clay, the other driver of the Ferrari alongside him, said during some tests.
Niki looked at him.
“Why? Do I look like one that has to fuck a woman to be fine?”
He laughed as Niki was always so overaggressive “No, but you treat everyone like bullshit beside the new girl, so you either can be an asshole only with men or your seduction technique needs a real check”
He frowned, eyebrows furrowing together as his lips parted in disbelief
“You nuts”
“Maybe, but I haven’t heard you complain about her as much as you complain about the rest of the world”
He shook his head “You are just letting you Italian genes getting your head stupid”
Clay laughed at him nodding knowingly “Sure, sure” he patted harshly on Niki’s back knowing how much he hated to be patted around like that as he moved to talk to one of the mechanics working on his car.
Niki crossed his arms resting against the wall of the garage, his eyes instinctively looking for your figure finding you to one of the working table writing down some notes over the changes applied while looking at the projects.
His eyes dropping on your ass like it was the first time he checked it, realising it wasn’t the first time he mentally noted it.
Well, he couldn’t really say you were unattractive, or not his type, or a good mechanic.
His thought process was suddenly interrupted as Clay himself approached you and you moved on side showing him the papers you were just writing on.
He nodded and said something to you, his hand casually resting on the small of your back making Niki’s jaw almost snap for how much he was gritting his teeth.
You shuffled on side avoiding the touch with a casual smile, but Clay kept talking to you and from afar Niki saw him say something and wave his pointed finger between himself and you. You shook your head and smiled turning down whatever he just offered with all the politeness you had, Niki pursued his lips slightly in amusement for his best girl’s behaviour.
Wait a second. Best girl?
He glared at Clay that smirked at him from afar, a big ‘I knew it’ smirk on his lips.
Niki bit the inside of his cheek not liking it.
He was with you like with everybody else, what the hell.
Niki ignored you all day, when you showed him something he himself requested to be shown, he shuffled away, when you handed him something he was looking for, he looked for it somewhere else, he just wasn’t meeting your eyes and hell and thunderstorm fell upon anyone that even tried to engage a talk with him on that day.
“I can’t with your boyfriend anymore, I swear” one of your colleagues muttered to you.
“He is not my boyfriend” 
He looked at you “Then he’d better be soon, maybe he’ll chill out”
“Are you even paid to stand and do nothing?” Niki shouted from afar and you two parted ways faster than two kids smuggling candies during class. ______________________________________________________________________
The next day was the judgment day for all the changes done on the car, your nerves were cracking as Niki arrived in his driving suit and your eyes immediately snapped a mental photo on his figure.
Did you ever went home wishing to have his company? Yes.
Did you ever wondered if he was so aggressive ever in the intimate times? Way too much.
Did you have any chance? Probably no.
You let out a big sigh as your colleagues reassured you “Hey, if it doesn’t work we either get rid of the rat or have some more time to work on it” he joked but you didn’t feel any better.
Niki looked up as he noticed your worried look, your lips nibbling down on your lips, your foot tapping rhythmically and nervously, the sudden instinct to lean his hand on that waist of yours, to rest his leg beside yours to make it stop that nerve wracking dance, to forbid your lips any more damage not caused by him.
All of that crowded his mind and he growled tiredly.
Stupid Clay, with his stupid theories.
He finished getting ready and put on his helmet settling down in his spot rolling his shoulders back, he needed to focus.
The head mechanic came over him repeating all the changes and just annoying the hell out of him, he is not always around the car only to check you out.
“When you're done telling me what I know, tell me something I don’t, I beg you”
The head mechanic did a big effort not to spit into his face and just left him waving his arms in the air.
You touched on your forehead nervously, if you failed it would show in the timings or maybe the car won’t even start.
You looked at him, seconds before he pulled down the dark lid of his helmet, his dark eyes so focused a shiver creeped over you.
You gasped as the signal was given and the car started.
Your fingers finding their way to your mouth as you nibbled your skin.
The car was fast, that was sure, you leaned beside the head mechanic that was taking the time. You breathed heavily, your mind going through all the changes you did, all the small settlements, the little details.
An eternal list that kept repeating itself.
Then the question as he was halfway through the leap, what if you disappointed him?
What if he asked you to be sent away?
Then you looked down to the chronometer, he was already almost two seconds earlier than usual.
A smile started to grow on you, the excitement filling your veins.
The sound of the engine roaring beautifully, you made it!
Then it happened, some smoke raised up to the sky, one of the wheels snapped, the breath died in your throat.
The car flexed on side but Niki controlled it and guided it against the sandy side of the track that slowed it down until it stopped.
“He was breaking his record” the head mechanic sighed “now he is just going to break our balls”
Niki moved out of the car throwing his helmet on the ground pushing off roughly anyone that tried to help him or check if he was hurt, some of the mechanics moving to the tow truck to recollect the car, Niki moving past you, his face tense and his posture of someone ready to snap some necks. You didn’t see him for the rest of the day, nobody talked about him, nobody mentioned anything as the storm will fall on all of the team the next day.
Now it was the head mechanic to face it for all of you.
______________________________________________________________________
That night you stayed over time, the other colleagues told you to just go home, to not let the thing sink of you, to look at it with fresh eyes and all those circumstantial phrases people gift you when they try to cheer you up. 
As always on the floor, you had now the chance to spread the pieces out, collect them into branches of types and use. You pulled closer your notebook writing down the ideas and things to remember to check, the image of Niki almost crashing gutting you even if you soon realised it wasn’t your change that set off the wheel, but it was part of the cause, the car was now too powerful and the stress on the suspensions was deadly.
You yawned lightly pulling a catalogue of replacements parts trying to find the best mix you could manage, but you surely had to make up something about it. You didn’t expect to solve the problem or to find the solution for everything with a creative twist, but to, at least, plan a sequence of possibilities to present to your chief the next day.
A hand slowly leaning a mug of steaming coffee beside you.
You looked up to find Niki there, another cup in his hand, those messy curls calling to be touched, his impeccable style always winning you over with a dark turtleneck and his tweed jacket.
“Found the problem?” He asked sharply as always.
He was surprised to see you there, he spent the rest of the afternoon after the malfunction with the head mechanic and some of the administrators as he needed a solution in time for the upcoming race.
So he decided he couldn’t trust their promises and reassurances, but take the matter in his own hand, for a change. But when he arrived he saw the lights still on and you there. He was almost tempted to leave, it wasn’t a good moment to screw things with one of his most talented mechanics.
But you, again, were so into it, you looked so beautiful with your working jumpsuit and the hair messed up nibbling on that pen like it was a matter of life and death.
He couldn’t just let you stay so beautiful and alone, who knows who could approach you.
You nodded “I think so” you said showing him the piece, he leaned his head on side studying it 
“May I?”
You nodded as he took off his blazer before joining you on the floor, he crossed his legs, your knees touching as he stole those papers from your hand.
“Signal to the administration this night shift, or they won’t ever pay you” he muttered without looking away from the papers.
You smirked “I know, but it is more a matter of principle than money, I didn’t like the heart attack you gave me today”
You were surprised by your own words, maybe it was because you really were over caffeinated or just realising how it was the first time you were alone and how you felt comfortable around him. No, not comfort, it was trust, you trusted him.
He looked up from the papers up at you, he didn’t replied to your comment straightaway, he let it sink in, he let your presence sink in.
A one-sides smirk appeared on his lips
“It is going to be a long night, then” Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra Let me know if you want to get added <3
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remsmoonlight · 3 years
Text
— title : sweeter than candy
— word count : 3k words
— pairing : daryl dixon x reader
— summary : daryl is good at keeping things buried, but when the thought of words left unsaid do you both realise you have both been thinking the same thing about the other. 
— warnings : mentions injuries, mentions of death
“ hi!! OMGG I came across your account and I’m obsessed with your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a Daryl Dixon x Reader following candy coated promises. Where Daryl has developed feelings for reader and following an errand run she gets injured and has to stay in bed. And Daryl find out! If that makes sense! Thank you!!! “
           ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*   requests are open ! / requested by anon *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
A deep desperation of yearning to be useful has led you to forget the risks involved in the interminable list of things that wish to cause you harm and are able to on such an intense scale. Luck had been on your side for so long, the illusion of life’s greatest ally refusing eluding your group for this long has proved itself to be just that — nothing more than an illusion. Once the burning of fear had dulled to nothing more than a dim ache, all you now feel is the one wound that does not run red yet pours into your veins as if it does. Stupidity. You’d volunteered yourself to go on a run with a small group, you’d spent enough time before the barbed wire fences, that you felt yourself becoming trapped.
A deep regret that would follow you even in death would be if any of your group would, too, meet their chapter’s end too soon by an immense error made on your part.
One thing that lays dormant in your mind, yet unable to completely fade is the fear of becoming too settled in safety. Spending too much time wrapped in a blanket of comfort that provides refuge from the grit the outside world revels in only hands you a vulnerability unsuitable for a reality submerged in death that roams freely. You don’t want to forget how to survive, you’ve come too far for that.
Part of that is how you have ended up being put to bedrest.
Your brain is yet to sort through and file the fleeting images that blend together into one disorientating image instead of a folder of what had occurred picture by picture. In one instance the group and yourself had been rummaging through the shelves that still contained some stock and the next, you’re rushing Maggie out of the way and pushing over shelves onto a growing horde of walkers. Though in the next second, your heart fell a thousand feet below as you lost your balance from the liquid coating the floor from where they’d tumbled and smashed to the floor, with the shards of glass forming a bewitching hazard.
“ your ankle still givin’ you trouble? “
The voice pulls you out of your thoughts, your sight settling on Maggie.
“ I don’t know if that hurts more or if these scratches do. “ You complain, your fingers lightly tug at the bandages that cover the fresh wounds that coat both of your palms, you take note of a number of loose fibres from the material.
“ Glass’ll do that to ‘ya. “ She chuckles, slowly moving into the room. She grabs a chair from the metal desk on the side and moves it next to your bed. “ I never got a chance to say thanks. “
“ You don’t have to worry about it. “ you refuse, shaking your head in turn.
“ I feel it’s my fault you’re like this. “
“ If we’re going to blame anyone, let’s blame my eyesight. I should have seen that wet patch. I should have been more careful. “ Frustration that burns bright in your reply as you turn away from her. Perhaps you’d spent too much time concealed from the harsh reality that constantly claws at you all as it takes refuge in a thick coat of a hauntingly isolating fog as it waits to drag you down with it further into the depths.
Mistakes are synonymous with fatalities now, one moment you’re on top of the world and in the next you can be in a free fall clutching the thin air as if it should be your saviour. Never have moments been promised, and this fact has never shone clearer than when the dead claimed the Earth for itself in an effort to void it of life wholly.
“ Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. “ Maggie brings a hand forward to squeeze your shoulder momentarily, a comforting smile packaged with it easing some of the self loathing you could feel weaving itself into your being.
“ I don’t have much to do in here by myself, I have to keep myself entertained somehow. “
“ Well, I got an idea.. “ She trails off, a mischievous grin lifting her lips.
“ Maggie.. “ You utter a strict warning, already knowing where the conversation is about to lead.
She pauses for a second, laughter bouncing from grimy wall to grimy wall as she reacts to your cautionary tone, the light in her eyes bursting with the power of a thousand stars as it illuminates her features. Gratitude for the fleeting moments of rare normalcy that reflects a past occurrence in the old world runs deep, for a fraction of a second you can pretend you’re simply two friends joking about something goofy and foolish. For a minute, you’re not sheltering in a decrepit prison as you run from walkers, it’s a perfectly average afternoon.
“ You can’t tell me you don’t realise the way he looks your way now? I know you’ve been lookin’.. “
“ Okay, I think I'm tired now. “ You huff, shifting your body as to your ability with your injured ankle to face the wall that has an array of stains permanently painted into its surface.
Maggie only laughs in response, the sounds of steps dulling into nothing more than a ghost of an echo that informs you of her departure. Her words have pulled a string you’d not wished to pay attention to until it would be absolutely necessary. Needless to say that as much as you’d tried to bury the budding seeds of affection into the dirt, they’d only bloomed in force into a sea of colour with the evidence left to coat your fingertips for everyone to see.
Never had it been your intention to entertain this idea, when anything positive you’ve managed to seize with both hands can be ripped away so unexpectedly that you are left to nurse the empty space left behind of what once had been, grieving the idea of what could have been. However, there’s a dim curiosity that softly grows in size that envelopes around you, compelling a desire to reacquaint yourself with a human intimacy that fell to the back of the queue as the instinct to survive overwhelmed it. You don’t want to fear living, you don’t want to fear connecting to others on a deeper level, but you can’t help but simply.. be afraid.
Had you been in a different reality where the world continued on as normal, you would have probably fallen under his spell sooner.
Only after that one night you’d spent on watch together after he’d gone out of his way to bring you such a simple gift illuminated him in a way that your sight would often lean towards him. Many times you would find yourself analysing his actions on a deeper level, a coy warmth burying itself in the pit of your stomach when realising he’d included you in his thought process. From the chocolate bar, to you being the first person he’d check on if you needed anything before heading out on a run, to even the simple act of being there just to talk when life felt rough. A shape of one Daryl Dixon had been carved out by the man before either of you had realised.
A thunderous groan erupts from your lips as you turn onto your back to stare at the bunk on top with the realisation hitting you like a train threatening not to stop. You completely adore the Dixon.
About an hour away from the Prison Daryl secures the last of the rabbits caught, they swing side to side with each of his calculated movements. All Daryl finds himself wanting to do is to get back to the Prison, unable to push down the inclination of being back to the comfort the life behind those metal fences bring. It’s been a long day and all he’s interested in is getting back to those he holds dear.
That thought is when a fleeting frame of your face crosses his mind. Though he speaks not of which he truly wishes to share, the time you do spend together is something he cherishes more than a billionaire would with all of the money and rubies in the world if they had them in the palm of their hands. The darker side of him, the side that would always listen to those who preferred to taint his waters with their gloom, doesn’t allow the emotions constantly swirling within him to be touched by the burning sun rays as they are laid bare.
Heavy breaths fall without grace from his chest as he’s let through the gates, the stony expressions etched deeply into Carol’s features. No words need to be uttered to know it’s to do with you, Daryl doesn’t even allow a thought before he’s making his way on a path he has walked a thousand times and will walk a thousand times more. Creaks that echo in the darkening corridors that are not lit by the comforting flames of candles, the prison sounding as if it’s more in pain than it appears — still, he pays no care. His only goal is to check on you, he’d be unable to forgive himself if anything were to happen to you and he’d never be able to see you one last time. His brain conjures a number of horrific scenarios and tainted pictures to accompany them as it runs wild in a sea of dread.
The crossbow that had been secured in Daryl’s grip is lowered gently to the ground as he scans your form, a grateful sigh when he sees the slow movement of breathing.
He lowers himself into the chair next to your bed, trying to pinpoint the moment he’d stopped gazing upon your form as a friend to replace it with an aura of starlight — no longer did he see the colour of your eyes, but galaxies full of life and wonderment. Daryl allows himself a few seconds to chase each other by as he considers his next action, though deep down he’s aware his decision had already been chosen, as he threads his fingertips into yours to allow your warmth to comfort the panic that had been raging at the thought of your demise. His thumb traces a circle that is light enough to keep you tucked away in a slumber and as a comfort technique for him, where his mind allows him the time to placate himself.
Before he’s aware of it, the sky blends into itself once more as the pastel hues paint it with dashes of gold from the sun as dawn breaks and he’s hunched over with your hands still connected as one — the position held the entire night. Nothing can be heard in the confined space except a symphony of soft breathing from you both, the serenity only the early hours in which no one is awake brings comfort to the sleeping forms of you and Daryl.
A lengthy yawn escapes your lips as your eyes fight to open as they blink heavily to adjust to the light that invades as much as it can. The weight of something lying comfortably in your hands confuses you, as you distinctly remember there had been no pressure previously, the image before you washes your entire body with the icy grip of shock as you scan the trail leading from the hand within yours to the person it belongs to. Teeth grip your bottom lip as you bite it, attempting to battle away a smile that wishes to break free, you can’t believe the sense of humour that the universe has. Not an inch is moved by any part of your body, you seek to savour the intensity that such a simple action bears, your eyes positively glowing in adoration as a softer side to the man is revealed. Moments like these are few and far between, it leaves you wanting to bottle it up and pocket it forever.
A squeak of displeasure cuts through the serenity the early hours have worked so hard to cultivate as you inch your injured ankle to the side, clearly different positions prove to be the opposite of beneficial. The noise is enough to wake Daryl, his sudden alertness makes you doubt whether he’d truly been in a deep rest, but it’s the least of your worries as he realises he spent the night with his grip connected to yours. The warmth that brought a grounding comfort to your being now is a phantom touch you crave again once an eerily coolness now surrounds your empty palm.
“ ‘M sorry ‘bout that. “
“ There’s nothing to apologise for, Daryl. It was nice. “ You confess, your volume touches the air with a softness of a feather that descends to below in an elegant waltz.
“ Mhm. “ He turns his gaze to the floor, a thumb is chewed upon lightly as he’s wondering what he should say next. “ ‘Was worried about ‘ya as soon as I got back. “
“ Yeah, things just kinda happened. “
“ ‘Ya gotta watch y’self more out there. “ He scolds you with a light scorch of misplaced anger that almost lays eternally with him, a wave of anxiety at the thought of losing you are twins in a realm of horror he never wants to bear witness to.
“ I know, Daryl. “
Poisonous words full of fire and fury born out of dread of your existence in his life being cut short itch to burn your indifference to the situation. As he settles his gaze upon you, all he can see are the stolen moments you both have shared away from the group, where the person he’d created in his head built without even speaking to had been smashed into shards the more he got to know — you’re a fresh breath of peace in an unstable world that thrives on chaos. Quiet moments where all he can hear are the flickering embers of the fire are the memories he finds himself kicking for, all that lost time to never be recovered due to his preconceived notions.
“ Do ‘ya? “ Daryl shakes his head in frustration, his soul a pot of swirling emotions and thoughts blinding him to the point he can’t see straight. “ I can’t lose ‘ya. “
His voice is so low you barely hear it, your brows thread together in the slightest form as they’re unused to the window of Daryl’s vulnerability being so widely open.
“ You won’t. “ A faint twitch of your lips means well, you try to comfort the man. Your touch is delicate as your palm overlaps his with warmth.
“ Y’can’t promise that. “
“ But I can try! “ You argue lightly, a bounce in your response.
“ Forget it. “ Daryl sighs harshly, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts that run circles around his mind.
“ Daryl! Wait. “ Your voice falls on deaf ears as he’s already halfway towards the exit of the room, for a moment you forget your injury and a burning sensation flies with boundless wings up your protesting muscles and you land in a heap on the floor. The bandages do nothing to cushion your fall, you cry out in pain from the intensity of the throbbing plaguing your body.
“ Why can’t ‘ya be careful!? Damn it. “
Before you know it, Daryl is level with you as you feel his touch grazing your skin — ensuring you’d not injured yourself further. Guilt pools in his stomach at the thought of your current suffering being his fault, his ire now directs itself brightly towards him.
“ Dar — what’s going on? Why are you acting like this? “ You quiz as your expression contorts into a grimace. You’d not seen him behave like this for what feels like a long century, even more so when directed towards you.
“ Like what?! Huh? “
“ You’re being crazy! “ You state, your finger jabs into his chest.
“ Ain’t it obvious? “ Daryl asks suddenly.
Your head shakes, confusion clouds your features as if it’s an angry storm that has waited long enough for the calm — nothing can be seen through the darkened skies. All you want is for the sunny rays of truth to shed light upon this mess.
“ ‘Ya mean more to me than you should. “
“ Daryl? Do.. do you — ? “
He nods suddenly, unable to hear the words out loud no matter how true they ring, because as real as it is. There would be no taking it back then. Your lips purse as a sad smile lifts itself with no help from you, your heart hurting as you realise this could have been avoided entirely since you both appear to be on the same page. You acknowledge the fact that actions would speak louder than words in this scenario, your fingertips brush through darkened strands of hair as if they play a sheet of music with the aging competence of a commanding pianist. This is one of many songs your mind finds itself conjuring, a burning hope of this forging something more between you. It’s not long before your arms are wrapped around his neck, with Daryl unable to believe the scene in which he finds himself in, you’re a sky full of stars that he finds himself wanting to get lost in.
“ We can take this one step at a time, yeah? “ You question softly, not wanting to be witness to the fleeting images of a set of angel wings.
He agrees silently, a warmth spreads outwards from your cheeks and treks outwards to cover your completely. The moment is sweet, as it concludes with a honeyed kiss on his tanned cheek. In one frame you both are thinking the same thing, just how lucky you are to have fought through your fears of living and given in to taking the plunge into unchartered waters that Maggie and Glenn have already found themselves navigating.
In a world full of the dead, you both agree that to love shouldn’t be a reason to cower and hide.
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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years
Text
Red
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Summary: Y/N has been having an infuriating dry spell in the love department lately, thanks to lockdown, and her roommate Jensen is getting fed up with her attitude. So, he lets her in on a little secret…
Pairing: Danneel x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: female masturbation, talk of male masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, lockdown was hard on singletons but great for phone sex operators Word Count: 4.5k Created for: @anyfandomgoesbingo - Sex Hotline AU | @spnkinkbingo - Tribbing
A/N: Requested by @danneelsmain - hope this lived up to your expectations babe! I haven't written Danneel before but I really enjoyed writing this ❤️
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“Yes... yes... yesyesyes–”
“Hey, Y/N!” Bang, bang, bang! “Hurry up in there will ya? I’m dyin’ here,” Jensen jiggled the doorknob to no avail, and Y/N was incredibly thankful she’d remembered to lock it this time.
I’m dying here, Y/N thought to herself, pulling the shower head from between her legs with a frustrated huff, the water swirling down the drain carrying the fading vestiges of her almost-orgasm with it. She had been so close. Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Just a minute!” she shouted, frustration tipping over into anger. The knob on the faucet was twisted to the ‘off’ position with unnecessary violence, and the shower curtain was attached at one less ring than it had been half an hour ago when it was yanked open to settle against the back wall of the tub.
Bang! Ban–
“Seriously, Jensen?!” Y/N barely had the towel secured around herself before she threw open the door, hastily ducking to avoid Jensen’s knock-in-progress.
“Thank fuck.” Jensen danced around Y/N and shoved the door shut, sending Y/N slipping across the tiles on her still-wet feet and locking her on the other side. The clearly audible hiss of Jensen relieving himself leaked through the door and Y/N growled in frustration, aiming a kick at the door before stomping down the hallway to her room.
He couldn’t have waited ten more seconds…
It had been bad enough that lockdown got them all stuck at home with no possibility of one night stands, or follow-up booty calls to keep her sex drive in check, but now Y/N was having an even bigger problem. She hadn’t been able to get herself over the finish line for at least two weeks, and she had no earthly idea as to why. Y/N was beginning to think that regular orgasms were part of the reason that she was usually nice to be around, because right now she felt like she was one bad joke away from stabbing somebody.
And that someone was likely to be Jensen.
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Tucked up into the corner of the couch was Y/N’s standard position these days. She wasn’t sure what was playing on the TV, something as mindless as she felt right now.
“Budge up.” Jensen hit her feet and flopped back gracelessly on top of them without giving her the chance to move them.
“Ow, asshole!” A pillow whipped through the air and collided squarely with the side of Jensen’s face.
“What is your problem lately?”
“You, clearly,” Y/N snapped, pulling her knees into her chest defensively. Jensen raised a single eyebrow, giving her a pointed look. “No, it’s not you,” Y/N admitted, letting some of her aggression seep out of her frame with her words. “Sorry.”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing, it’s fine.”
There was a stiff silence between them, Jensen waiting for Y/N to break and answer his question and Y/N knowing that she didn’t want to talk about this with Jensen but not seeing a way out of the conversation. Jensen had an irritating habit of getting her to open up about things she never planned on telling people – like the fact that she was gay. And now he was about to hear far more about her sex life than she ever wanted to share with someone of the male species.
“I’m, um,” her cheeks were on fire as she glanced up to see Jensen looking back at her with concerned curiosity. “I’m… having a problem,” she finished lamely.
“Okay…”
“I can’t… Do you ever–” Y/N choked on the words every time they tried to bubble through. “So… um, it’s– it’s been a while.” She saw comprehension flash over Jensen’s freckled face a moment later.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“You know PornHub has a whole section for lesbian shit, right?” Another pillow hits him in the face. “Okay, okay, ow,” Jensen rubs his jaw in exaggeration. “But seriously, it’s been a while for everyone. You just gotta take business into your own hands.”
“You don’t think I’ve been doing that?” Y/N hissed, unconsciously checking around them as if someone else was in their apartment who might overhear.
“Well then what’s the problem?”
“I haven’t like,” Y/N made a variety of nonsequitous hand motions that had no bearing on the word ‘orgasm’ but Jensen seemed to get the message.
“How long?” he cringed.
“Like, almost three weeks? And it’s not like I haven’t been trying like, everything, I just… can’t,” she shrugged helplessly. “Has this kind of thing ever happened to you? Is there something like, physically wrong with me?”
“No, no, I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with you,” Jensen rushed to reassure her, patting her leg awkwardly. “This kind of thing happens all the time.”
“So it’s happened to you too?” Hope shone from Y/N’s face that maybe she wasn’t doomed to a life empty of sexual pleasure.
“Well… no, not exactly.” Y/N’s shoulders drooped, hopes slashed.
“How are you staying so sane?” Y/N accused. “You used to be with a different girl every few days before all of this.”
“Hey! I was not,” Jensen was mock offended but Y/N could tell he was also a little proud. “And I’ve, uh… I’ve got my sources,” his eyes twinkled mischievously as he answered her question.
“Jensen Ross Ackles, have you been sneaking out behind my back!”
“No,” he rolled his eyes, “nothing like that.” Jensen pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the screen as Y/N watched.
“Jen, if you’re trying to show me porn, I’m good. Don’t need to see what you get off to,” Y/N shuddered at the thought. A text beeped on her phone a second later, Jensen’s name popping up on the screen.
“That’s my source,” he explains and she opens the message to see a 1-800 number, next to the word Red.
“Red?”
“Red.” Jensen confirmed with a wicked grin, nodding sagely.
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Y/N could not believe she was about to do this. She looked down at the number on her phone screen, ready to dial as soon as she pressed the little green button. Jensen’s assurances echoed in her head. Best phone sex I’ve ever had… she actually gets off with you, she’s not just faking it… sounds so hot, and her body is killer in her profile pic. Admittedly, the picture he’d shown her had been really fucking sexy. A slender girl in small red panties and unfairly pretty breasts cradled in a satin bra covered in little hearts, dark red hair pinned up around her face in a vintage style.
Before she could talk herself out of it again, Y/N pressed dial and held the phone up to her ear. It rang a few times before connecting to an automated menu, and Y/N was secretly relieved she wouldn’t have to ask an operator if she could speak to ‘Red’.
Thank you for calling the Sugar Lips Hotline. Please enter your card details to continue.
Jensen had warned her about this part, so she had her card sitting out of her wallet on the desk in front of her.
If you know who you are trying to reach, please press one. If you would like to be assigned a random operator, please press two.
Y/N shakily pressed the number one, and then put the phone on speaker while she was at it.
If you would like to speak with Candy, press one, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Kitty, press two, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Lance…
Y/N wondered if she would still have the confidence to go through with this by the time the robotic voice mentioned ‘Red’.
If you would like to speak with Red, press thirteen, followed by the pound key.
The moment of truth. Y/N entered the number 13 and then pressed the pound key. The line began to ring again.
“Hi there,” a temptingly soft voice slipped through the receiver of the phone sitting on the desk in front of her.
“Hi-i,” Y/N’s voice was jarring in comparison, breaking on the first word she uttered.
“Oh, so I’ve got a pretty little girl on the line today, huh?” Y/N didn’t know how to answer so she didn’t, hands frozen in a death grip on the sleeves of her too big sweatshirt. “What’s your name, baby?”
“Y/N,” she whispered back, suddenly scared that Jensen would be able to hear every word being said in her room. Quickly digging into her pockets she pulled out her headphones and plugged them into her cell. Why hadn’t she done that earlier?
“That’s such a pretty name, baby,” the woman cooed, and now her voice was right against Y/N’s ears; it felt like she was in the room, whispering against her skin. “I’m Red.”
“That’s what I should call you?” Y/N managed to keep the tremor out of her words this time.
“Unless you want to call me something else? I can be whoever you want me to be baby girl. Mommy, ma’am, mistress…” Y/N’s heart thundered against her ribs. She realised that she had no idea what she wanted from this – she just knew she was desperate. “Or maybe you want to be in charge? I could be your baby, your good little girl.” Y/N wished she could see Red right now, watch what she looked like as she purred all these promises down the line, teasing and tempting.
“Is,” Y/N gulped, “is there anyone you want me to be?”
“Nuh-uh,” she tutted, and Y/N could imagine her shaking her head, red curls flying by her cheeks. “This is all about you Y/N. I’m here to make you feel good.”
Y/N felt a lick of heat curl in the base of her stomach, twisting itself around her intestines.
“Yeah, I could use that,” she laughed nervously, figuring she should be honest if she wanted this to work out well. And she really needed it to.
“Oh, have you been feeling a little pent up baby?” Red’s voice echoed in Y/N’s ears. The small vibrations coming out of her earbuds were enough to start sending a pulsing sensation down the side of her neck, worming its way under her skin and into her veins. Christ, it had been too long.
“You have no idea.”
“Well, I betcha we can fix that. Are you somewhere comfortable sweetie?”
“I could get on the bed?” Y/N offered, wondering why she hadn’t started there in the first place, rather than at her desk.
“That sounds like a great idea,” Red purred seductively. “Why don’t you stretch out on the bed, get yourself nice and cozy. Maybe prop a pillow up next to you and think about me snuggling you in real close. Wish I could be there to put my hands all over your body.”
Y/N was thankful she was already sitting on her bed by the time Red finished painting her little scene because if she’d been walking, she’s pretty sure her knees would have given out.
“Fuck, it’s been so long since I felt another girl’s hands on me.” She tried not to be embarrassed at how whimpery her voice had gone. If this went well it was about to get a whole lot worse anyways.
“I want to touch every inch of you,” Red breathed heavily. “Run my fingers through your hair, over your neck, down your back. Would I find a bra there to unhook, baby?”
“Yeah,” Y/N sighed, arching her shoulders and feeling the band scratch taught around her ribs, pushing her breast up towards her chin.
“Why don’t you take that off for me?”
“Okay,” Y/N felt her voice shake as much as her hands as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, breathing deeply when the pressure of the garment disappeared.
“Bet that felt good, didn’t it baby?” Red laughed knowingly.
“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, loosening up a little at the acknowledgement of a shared experience, something all girls could relate to. She pulled her arms through the straps beneath her sweatshirt and shimmying the discarded bra out the bottom before pushing her arms back through her sleeves. The peaks of her nipples tightened as they caught on the pills of fleece that now sat against her chest.
“What else are you wearing?”
Suddenly embarrassed she hadn’t thought to put on anything sexy in preparation for this call, Y/N didn’t manage more than an “um…” before Red laughed, a warm sound that melted into her like chocolate against your tongue.
“Why don’t I tell you what I’m wearing?”
“Yeah,” Y/N nodded before she remembered that Red couldn’t see her. “Bet it’s something really sexy,” she attempted to flirt, cringing at how awkward she sounded.
“Well that depends,” Red mused. “Do you like lace?”
“Yeah,” Y/N breathed. She loved seeing girls in lace lingerie; the way the delicate weave of the pattern offered small tastes of the skin it covered, the way you could feel someone’s warmth seeping through such a thin fabric so easily, the way it felt to have someone touch you or suck you through such a meagre sheet of modesty…
“What about stockings?” Red voice broke through Y/N’s train of thought, pulling her back to the vaguely out of body experience she was having.
“Love them,” Y/N answered quietly, trying to pitch her voice the way Red was, low and alluring.
“Well, that’s a shame,” she sighed dramatically. “Because I’m not wearing anything at all right now, sorry to disappoint.” Y/N couldn’t see her but she would bet anything Red was wearing a big pout right now. She wondered what her lips looked like. In her head she pictured soft and pillowy.
“You are such a tease,” Y/N laughed, hoping to disguise the pang of arousal that had shot through her a moment before.
“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you baby?”
“Yeah, I really do,” Y/N found herself admitting unconsciously.
“Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna get naked too baby girl?”
A throb of desire fluttered between Y/N’s legs, her pussy clenching, and when she squirmed back into her pillow a little she felt the lace fabric of her own panties sliding a little more between her thighs. Her arousal had started to soak out of her and into the material.
“You want me naked?” Y/N’s words scratched their way out of her throat, trying to pull her confidence along with them.
“Oh god, please baby,” Red moaned loudly, but it didn’t sound fake. It was like Jensen had told her, it sounded like she was really enjoying this, and like she was actually getting off on what was happening between them right now. “Want to feel your skin against mine.”
“I want that too, baby,” Y/N’s hasty breaths shook her words. She stripped out of her underwear and shoved her phone and headphones down the front of her sweatshirt so she could shimmy it over her head without disconnecting the earbuds. She didn’t want to miss anything.
“God, if I was there I would kiss all over you. Bet you taste amazing,” Red sighed, and Y/N could hear something shifting over the phone, like fabric moving around.
“Are you on your bed too?” Y/N asked.
“Yep, all spread out for you baby girl.”
“Are you touching yourself?” Y/N’s confidence was starting to build as she heard how much Red sounded like she’s into this, and she couldn’t deny she was turned on too. She felt wetter than she’d been in weeks, and when her fingers drifted down over her stomach its muscles twitched in anticipation of where she was about to touch.
“Where do you want me to touch?” Y/N let her eyes slide closed, and she could imagine Red batting her lashes as she asked - where do you want me to touch? - She pictured the girl she’d seen in the photo poised over her, legs straddling Y/N’s hips as Red ran her hands over her own body, fingers trailing over her throat, fondling her breasts, twisting around the pink flesh at the tips of each, lingering on the soft of her stomach before dipping lower.
“I want you to touch between your legs and tell me how wet you are,” Y/N said between deep breaths, trying to keep her voice even.
“I’m already so wet for you, baby,” Red gasped, and Y/N hoped it was a reaction to her fingers slipping inside her pussy.
“If you were here with me, what would you do right now?”
“I’d make you watch me fuck myself on my fingers.” Holy shit, Y/N couldn’t help the moan that bled through her lips, and she heard Red chuckle. “Yeah, you like the sound of that baby?”
“Mm-hmm,” Y/N whimpered, her own fingers finally making their way between her legs and sliding easily through the slick she found there.
“I’d straddle myself right over your face, so you could see my fingers fucking my pussy, feel me dripping on you.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“And then, when my fingers are nice and soaked, you’re gonna suck them clean like a good little girl, aren’t you sweetheart?” Red’s monologue was absolutely wrecking Y/N, she wanted everything the woman on the end of the line was describing so badly. “Want you to do it to yourself, since I can’t be there to do it for you. Can you get those fingers nice and wet for me baby?”
“Fuck, yeah, okay.” Y/N pushed two fingers inside her pussy, clenching around them wantonly. She must have let out some kind of noise because Red giggled again before she continued talking.
“That’s it, fuck yourself for me baby girl, until I can do it for you.” And fucking hell, the thought of Red actually with her, touching her, fucking her… “Your fingers nice and dirty now?”
“Mm-hmm,” Y/N squeaked, pressing against her g-spot to get herself even wetter.
“Good girl,” Red hummed. “Now suck them clean for me, Y/N. Want you to taste just how sweet you are. God, wish I could taste you too,” she moaned, her breath hitching.
Y/N obeyed Red’s instructions, sucking her fingers into her mouth and twirling her tongue around them, curling it across the dips and whorls of her fingertips. She groaned around the digits in her mouth, trying to make it audible that she was doing as she was told.
“Good girl,” Red cooed again, obviously hearing Y/N’s sucking. “Good filthy girl. You’re so dirty aren’t you baby, bet you’re dripping onto the sheets right now you’re so horny.”
“Oh my god,” Y/N felt her whole body clenching as she pushed her hand back between her legs, toying with her clit and sending fresh jolts of desire to her core. “Fuck, I’m touching myself again. Couldn’t help it, you’re so hot baby.”
“I want you to touch yourself sweetie. Want you to make yourself feel so good.”
“I want you to feel good too,” Y/N whimpered, maybe stupidly, but she remembered Jensen saying that Red got off with him and she wanted the same thing. She wanted to know that Red wanted her, that Red found her sexy. She didn’t want to be in this alone.
“Oh, I am feeling so good baby girl,” Red assured Y/N, her voice brimming with sincerity and whimpers to back it up. “Fucking myself so good, pretending it’s your fingers inside me.”
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Y/N couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent than that. The more she played with herself the foggier her brain got.
“What are you imaging right now?”
“Thinking about you, you on top of me.”
“You want me on top, huh? Want me to hold you down a little, baby?”
“Mm, yeah,” Y/N sighed, slipping two fingers from her free hand down to her entrance and pushing them inside, keeping her other hand on her clit, rolling it between her fingers. “You could hold me down, grind yourself against me. Use me to get yourself off.” Y/N’s breathing was ragged now, and the fingers inside her pussy sought out her g-spot again, starting to focus their efforts a little more concertedly on the spongy bundle of nerves.
“Oh sweetie, that’s so hot, fuck,” Red moaned heavily, her breath catching on her curse. “I’d grind against you so good. Rub our pussies together, all slick and hot, grind my clit against yours nice and hard. Fuck, touch your clit for me baby.”
“I am,” Y/N gasped, drawing fast little circles over the nub between her legs. “Fuck, want all that so bad. Think you could come like that? Just from rubbing your pussy on me, getting me all wet and dirty?”
“Fuck yes, love rubbing my pussy on yours, love grinding our clits together. I could tease you so good. Go nice and slow, wonder how long you’d last before you start begging me to let you cum.”
“I’m close,” Y/N whimpered, surprised at how true it was. She hadn’t gotten so close to cumming this quickly in ages.
“Already baby? You naughty little girl,” Red groaned, and the sound of bed springs crackled through Y/N’s earbuds too. Y/N pictured Red arching off the bed, fucking her hips into her fingers. “You want to cum for me baby?”
“Fuck, yes, yes please,” Y/N begged, feeling the muscles in her thighs and stomach starting to constrict, heat singing through her veins.
“Not yet baby, keep fucking yourself.” Y/N let out a pathetic whine in protest. “You can do that for me, can’t you sweetie. Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me?”
“Yeah, yeah I am.”
“Good girl, I’m so fucking close baby.”
“Fuck, please, want you to cum. Want you to cum with me.” Y/N’s eyes squeezed tight as small pinpricks of light started to burst in the darkness of her vision.
“Gonna cum for you, baby girl,” Red cried, voice high and tight. “Fuck, I’m gonna squirt, I can feel it. Gonna squirt all over your pussy, fucking soak you.”
“Oh my god,” Y/N felt like she might actually start crying, she needed to cum so badly. She was so so so close.
“Rub that little clitty, pretend it’s me rubbing up against you. All hot and wet,” her voice was breaking, her words short and breathless, and Y/N could tell Red was as close as she was. “Gonna cum all over you. Fuck, gonna squirt so hard bet I could actually cum inside you.”
“Holy fuck!” Y/N’s hips snapped into the air, searching for the imaginary body she wished was there. It was becoming hard to hear through the intense buzzing in her ears. Every nerve in her body was pulled taut, ready to snap.
“Cum for me Y/N, c’mon baby, you can do it, want you to cum for me like the good little girl you are baby, c’mon.”
Y/N was sobbing, wrist pistoning her fingers in and out of herself faster than she ever remembered being able to move, and she felt the walls of her pussy clamping down, trying to keep the pressure inside where it wanted it. And then she couldn’t take it anymore. Everything froze. She might have screamed, but to be honest she couldn’t be too sure, because she couldn’t hear anything except the white light that had flooded the dark space behind her eyelids.
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Lockdown became much more bearable after that day. Though Y/N did have to try really hard to not think about the fact that she and Jensen were kind of fucking the same girl. In a way. It was weird. But if she ignored that part, then her ‘dates’ with Red were perfect. She was finally able to release all the tension, sexual and otherwise, that this whole mess had building up in her system constantly. And eventually, the world started to open back up and things started to get just a little bit easier.
Y/N wondered what she would do when lockdown was well and truly over. When the bars and clubs opened up again, would she and Jensen go out and try to hook up like they always had before? Would everything just go back to normal? Would she still want to call Red if she was getting actual sex with a real girl, and not just her hand or a bit of silicone? Yes. The answer was most definitely yes, Y/N had to admit to herself. Even though it was just phone sex, it was still some of the best sex she’d ever had.
Well, Red is a professional, she thought to herself wryly as she spooned some froth onto the top of the cappuccino she was making. The coffee shop she worked at had reopened last week, finally.
“Y/N! Can you jump on register while I take my break?” Michelle called from the end of the counter.
“Sure thing,” Y/N smiled and wiped her hands off on her apron, making her way behind the other baristas to the cash register. She briefly glanced at the line of people waiting to order – a couple of college kids carrying some scary looking textbooks, a portly man scratching his bald patch, a pretty girl with shiny hair and awesome winged liner. Y/N blushed as she caught the eye of the girl, and immediately looked back at her tablet, typing in her register code.
“Hi there, what can I get you?” Y/N’s customer service voice was alarmingly cheery, and the two college guys blinked, startled, clearly still unused to interacting with humans again – Y/N knew the feeling, cringing internally. She made a note to dial the pep back a little.
“Hey, what can I get you?” It was the pretty girl at the front of the line now.
“Um, I’ll have a caramel latte, please,” she answered with a bright smile, red lips stretching across shockingly white teeth.
“Size?” Y/N asked, tapping the order into her tablet.
“How big can you make it?” the girl giggled, and Y/N looked up, something tugging at the back of her mind.
“Um, large?” Y/N answered absentmindedly, trying to figure out what was bugging her so much. The girl just nodded, politely accepting the fact that Y/N had skated over her joke. “Can I get a name for the order?” She grabbed the large sized cup and uncapped the marker, hand poised over the white cardboard, ready to write.
“Oh, sure. It’s Danneel.”
“Danielle?” Y/N asked, her mind still wandering.
“No, Dan– you know what, it’s a weird name. Just go with Red.”
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quillsanddaydreams · 3 years
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cliché sleepovers and some popcorn
ginny weasley x reader
—author's note: I simply adored writing this so here's some Ginny fluff to brighten your days. What will a sleepover with the youngest and the most fierce Weasley include? I hope you like it ;)
—warning(s): mentions of food, gender neutral!reader (pronouns aren't used).
—word count: 908
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Ginny Weasley had grown up in the wizarding world. Ever since she was small, she had been surrounded by magic. She did not know much about the muggle world. So when you told her about “sleepovers” she just compared it to staying over with a close friend. Which was technically right, but not wholly. A typical sleepover included watching movies, having popcorn, taking pictures and daring each other to do silly things.
“Well, it does sound fun,” Ginny grinned, nodding. She always wanted to see those ‘movies’ you talked about. Maybe this was her chance and she would never turn down an offer to spend time with you.
To say you were excited, would be an understatement. You had planned everything. From movies, to getting all kind of muggle candy— you wanted to make sure she had the best experience possible. Your parents shook their head, smiling at your enthusiasm. Finally the day came.
Ginny wore a pale yellow sweater and jeans as Mr. Weasley dropped her off. You rushed in to hug her tightly, her laugh loud in your ear. Your face was warm when you pulled back, mentally banging your head for what you’d just done. Ginny didn’t seem to notice it though. Taking her hand, you showed her around your house. She took in everything slowly, her mouth forming an ‘o' at some muggle objects. After greeting and meeting your parents, you took her to your room ready to tell her all you’d planned.
Ginny loved popcorn. You couldn’t believe it when she told you she had only had popcorn from the stall in the quidditch grounds at Hogwarts.
“This tastes amazing” she said, putting her hand in your bowl as you swatted it away. “Hey—”
“Just because you’re a guest, doesn’t mean you could get away with stealing my popcorn!” you said as she pouted. She was adorable.
“Okay fine, just a little,” you said as she smiled widely and kissed your cheek.
“Thank you,” she said, turning her attention back to the movie but you couldn’t think about anything other than the fact that she just kissed you. Your heart was beating loudly as you looked over to Ginny. Did she have any idea of the effect she had on you?
It seemed too soon that the end credits rolled up. Ginny stretched before turning towards you.
“What now?” she asked, her eyes sparkling. You let out a laugh. Ginny felt something in her chest flutter. Your laugh was always the most beautiful thing about you.
“Typically, people play truth and dare but I think we share everything with each other,” you started, your brain providing not everything. Well, everything except the fact that you liked her. “Plus, it might not be as fun with just two people. So that leaves pillow fights, putting makeup on each other and talking ourselves to sleep. Or— we could just attempt to summon the devil.”
Ginny snorted.
“Yeah, let’s do the one thing that will make sure we will never be allowed on a sleepover ever again.”
After laughing for a while you two just sat and looked at each other. This was the best you had felt in a long time.
“Put makeup on me,” Ginny said out of the blue. You furrowed your eyebrows. “You said it was one of the things you do on a cliché sleepover.”
You pondered over it.
“I don’t have a lot of products though, mum keeps most of them,” you said, a mischievous smile overcoming face. “Let’s sneak in there and get it.”
You tiptoed downstairs, Ginny hot at your heels. It was half past twelve. Your parents were heavy sleepers so you didn’t have to worry a lot. Telling Ginny to stay outside, you went inside your parents’ bedroom as quietly as possible and reached your mother’s drawer. You took out the makeup bag and got out. Ginny stood there eagerly. She looked through the contents as you two walked back to your room.
She plopped down on the bed outstretching her hands with the makeup bag.
“Do me, do me!” she said, as you laughed.
You took out some primer and foundation, starting to work on the base. She watched you intensely and you couldn’t help but squirm a little under her gaze. Ginny crinkled her nose when you brushed on some powder making you chuckle. You opened the cap of the eyeliner and told her to not move. When she couldn’t sit still enough, you held her by her shoulder and then cradled her face.
Ginny bit her lip as you concentrated on getting the eyeliner straight and not smudge it. You were so close to her, she could smell your perfume. It seemed to make her high. When you seemed content, you pulled back, watching whether your efforts yielded results.
Ginny however seemed to have other plans. She crashed her lips against yours before realising what she was doing and pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” she started, seeing your shocked expression. You couldn’t hear her rambling though. You were too busy realising what she just did. When you did, you held her face and kissed her again. She let out a squeak and then melted against you, pulling you closer to her.
You rested your head against her, breathing deeply. Ginny was the first to recover.
“So do all muggle sleepovers include this?” she said making you giggle.
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—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill ​ which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.
⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩
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sunrisefairy · 4 years
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Swipe right
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Pairing: George Weasley x reader
Warning: language, mentions of cheating/breakup, alcohol 
Summary: The one where Y/N downloads tinder after a bad breakup
Taglist: @hufflepuff5972​ @inglourious-imagines​ @klausdatprettyboi​ @georgeweasleyswhre​​ @horrorxweasley​​ @amourtentiaa​​ send me an ask if you would like to added!
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Y/N hated being single. She hated not having anyone waiting for her with dinner cooked and a glass of wine when she got home from work. She hated how empty her bed felt and not having anyone to cuddle after a tough week. She hated no one being there to listen to her ranting about her day. Y/N absolutely missed being in a relationship and being able to go through life with someone else by her side.
Y/N’s last relationship was 8 months ago, she had been with her ex Matthew for 6 months when it came crashing down. Y/N remembers the night she met Matthew vividly. Her friends had dragged her to some concert at this random underground bar. Y/N was at the bar ordering drinks when a breathtakingly handsome man with blond shaggy hair and piercing blue eyes offered to pay for the 3 beers she was ordering. Normally, Y/N would roll her eyes and not bother talking to random drunk men, especially when it was a girl’s night out like tonight. But something about Matthew caught her attention and she couldn’t walk away even if she wanted to. Matthew had this aura about him, he was very charismatic and could captivate anyone with his looks alone leaving those around him putty in his hands. Which is exactly what happened to Y/N.
Matthew and Y/N started dating shortly after that and she was completely smitten with the man. He seems to be just what Y/N needed. To Y/N he was the perfect boyfriend, he held all the traits she looked for in a partner, kind, funny, smart, supportive, everything except the trait which would be argued to be the most important – loyal. 6 months into their seemingly flawless relationship Y/N found Matthew-her supposedly perfect boyfriend, in bed with another girl.
The second Y/N saw the two of them in a rather compromising position in Matthew’s bed, Y/N felt her world collapse around her, her throat closed over making it hard to breath and her vision blurred. The events that followed are hazy in Y/N’s mind, she remembers screaming and yelling, she knows there had been a lot of tears (mostly from her), Matthew trying to beg for forgiveness, which is very hard to do when you’re butt naked and there potentially was a few items thrown in Matthews direction, deservingly so.
That night broke Y/N, it felt like Matthew had reached into her chest and yanked out her heart and crushed it to dust then spat on it. Apparently, douchebag Matthew and this girl had been shagging for basically the whole of his and Y/N’s relationship. She couldn’t believe it.
Y/N’s friends had spent most of the weeks that followed in the heartbroken girl’s apartment as she cried, screamed, yelled. It pained them to see their best friend so distraught. But surely, over time and with lots of ice cream and alcohol, Y/N was able to heal.
8 months later Y/N finally felt mostly whole again, she was able to smile and laugh without a hollow ache pounding in her chest and tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She no longer dreamt of Matthew’s arm wrapping around her and pulling her into his chest when she dozed off, she forgot how it felt to kiss him and she stopped wanting to call him.
Y/N finally felt free, which she told Alicia and Angelina at their weekly girl’s night in. This led to Alicia trying to convince her to maybe start dating again, to test the waters as she put it.
“Okay, hear me out,” Alicia says waving her arms, somehow managing not to slip her wine on the couch, “I think Y/N should download tinder.”
Y/N scoffs and opens her mouth to disagree, but her words went unheard as Angelina squealed in excitement, “oh my god yes! Y/N you so should.”
Y/N shakes her head before sipping on her wine, enjoying the sweet taste on her lips. “Guys, I don’t think I’m ready to start dating, I definitely don’t think I’m ready for another relationship.”
“But that’s why tinder is so great, you don’t have to go on any dates if you don’t want to. You can just chat to some cute boys and see what happens.” Alicia replies, picking up Y/N’s phone from the coffee table and holds it out for her to unlock.
Y/N thinks for a moment, eyeing her phone, she doesn’t feel ready to jump into the dating scene still nervous about being let down again but there’s no harm in downloading tinder and seeing her options, right?
Y/N eyes are locked on her phone Alicia’s hand before muttering fine and unlocking it for her. Angelina giggled excitedly, moving closer to Alicia’s side to look at the phone. A few moments later the app was downloaded, and a profile was made. The 3 girls took turns swiping through profiles ogling the eye candy.
The phone was currently in Angelina’s hand while Alicia refilled everyone’s glasses, Y/N had lost count of how many glasses of wine she’s had tonight, her body buzzing from the alcohol. “Man, I forgot how much fun tinder is.” Angelina slurred, her thumb rapidly swiping through profiles.
“Okay Ang, we won’t tell Fred that you said that.” Y/N chuckles, Angelina just rolls her eyes.
“Oh, come off it.”
~ ~ ~
The next morning the 3 very hungover girls who had passed out in different spots of Y/N’s living room, somehow manage to drag themselves to brunch with Lee, Fred and George.
“Hello ladies, big night?” Fred winks then plants a sloppy kiss on Angelina’s cheek who mumbles a response that sound vaguely like a yes.
The 6 of them were sitting at a table outside, soaking up the sunshine and warm weather. Once their food is delivered the group is chatting aimlessly with one another. Y/N hears her phone ping from her bag, and she fishes it out to check the notification.
“Ohh, Y/N is it a tinder message?” Alicia says excitedly trying to peer over her shoulder.
“Tinder?” It’s George’s voice now. Y/N glances up at him from across the table, unable to read his expression, “since when does Y/N have tinder?”
“Since last night, the girls convinced me to download it. Kinda seems like time to start getting out there again.” Y/N replies shoving her phone back into her bag before one of her friends has the chance to snatch it from her even though the text was just from her mother.
“Maybe you should download tinder Georgie. ‘Bout time you got yourself a girlfriend.” Lee mumbles, his mouth full of food.
George shakes his head, looking down at his plate, “tinder isn’t for me. Besides your one to talk Lee, you’re single too.”
“Not anymore, I want to marry this eggs benedict.” Lee practically moans as he shovels another bite into his mouth.
Y/N laughs along with everyone, shaking her head slightly.
“I think you should George, I’d bet money that your dream girl is on there.” Fred smirks at George whose eyes widen at the comment and his cheeks heat up.
“Can we change the subject,” the redhead mutters scratching his neck, not meeting anyone’s gazes.
The conversation quickly moves on and Y/N finds herself still staring at George confused by his strange behaviour, also noticing the way her chest feels heavy at the mention of George’s ‘dream girl’. She pushes the feeling down and tears her eyes away from the redhead in front of her just before he glances up at her. The pair oblivious to the others intense gaze.
~ ~ ~
That night Y/N is snuggled up under her favourite fluffy blanket, on the couch, while some random romantic comedy is playing in the background.
Y/N has soon come to realise that tinder is addictive, she’s spent the better part of the last hour swiping through the many profiles. It doesn’t feel like she even has control of her fingers at this point, they apparently have a mind of their own.
Y/N starts to zone out, her finger automatically swiping for her. That is, until she stumbles across a particular profile and her finger freezes and her eyes bulge out of her head. Is that? George?
Y/N looks through his profile, there’s a picture that she had taken of him at the beach one summer, he’s lying on a towel, shirtless and the cheekiest grin plastered across his face. The next photo is of him and Ron from Harry’s surprise birthday Ginny threw last year. They are both looking smart in their suits, beaming brightly at the camera. Y/N can’t help but stare at George’s hand that’s wrapped tightly around a beer bottle, her mouth going dry as she zooms in on his veiny hand. There is also a photo of George from last Halloween where he had dressed as a pirate, Y/N chuckles, remembering how George had followed her around for most of the night, annoying her with his lame and corny pirate jokes. The last photo is her favourite out of them all. It’s of her and George at her recent birthday, he has his arm wrapped around her shoulder and his head resting against hers. The pair of them smiling widely at the camera.
Y/N bites her lip trying to decide if she should swipe left or right. She’s always had a soft spot for George long before she started dating Matthew. She knew deep down she harboured a tiny crush on her friend but never acted on it, scared she’ll ruin their friendship if she confessed her feelings. Y/N always fantasised about what it would be like to date George Weasley. She would happily bet her life savings that George would be the perfect boyfriend, would treat his girlfriend with respect and shower them with love and affection. It’s the type of relationship Y/N yearned for, the type of relationship she thought she had with Matthew.
Y/N stared down at the phone in her hand, contemplating her next move. The temptation to swipe right was huge, finally being able to find out if George liked her but there was the possibility that if she does swipe right she’ll find out that George does not like her in that way and she doesn’t know if she could physically take that knowledge right now. Part of her debates on swiping left, thinking that way she can live her life blissfully unaware to whether or not George likes her. The idea of being unsure of his feelings seems very appealing then definitely knowing he sees her just as a friend. A small voice in her head tells her to just delete the app and pretend this never happened.
Y/N groans at her overthinking.
Just choose Y/N.
“Fuck it,” Y/N mutters squeezing her eyes shut before swiping right.
She keeps her eyes closed for a few minutes, trying not to picture the upsetting scenario where they do not match, and Y/N has to deal with her unrequited feelings towards the boy. She takes a deep breath and slowly opens her eyes trying to focus back on the phone in her shaky hand. It takes a moment to process the words on the screen before Y/N is jumping up from the couch squealing.
It’s a match!
Her happy dance is interrupted when her phone dings, indicating a new message. Y/N swears her heart stops beating and she scrambles onto the couch to grab her phone.
George: Do my eyes deceive me or have I captured the attention of the lovely Y/N?
Y/N snorts at his message, butterflies erupting inside her stomach unable to get over the fact that George Weasley likes her.
Y/N: Consider yourself lucky Georgie, not many are worthy enough of my attention ;)
Y/N: But wait, I thought you didn’t have tinder? You said tinder wasn’t for you
George: I didn’t… well up until 1 hour ago. Fred convinced me to download it so I could try and find your profile. He said I should at least try and confess my feelings…
Y/N: And? What are your feelings?
George: that I am hopelessly in love with you. Have been since forever but I’ve been too chicken to admit it.
George: I was going to tell you I swear, but then you started dating that tosser Matthew and I lost my chance.
George: After you two broke up, Fred bugged me to say something to you but I knew it wasn’t the right time.
Y/N studies the messages. Long before Matthew was even a thought in her mind, she knew she would leap at the opportunity to date George. But that was before she had her heart shattered into a million of tiny pieces. She told Alicia and Angelina that she wasn’t ready to date, she didn’t think her heart could take it. And if this was any other guy, she would gently let them down. But this wasn’t just any guy, this was George Weasley. The man who never failed to make her smile and laugh till tears was streaming down her face. The man who help pick up the shards of her heart and help mend it back together. The man who would always answer her phone call, no matter the time of night. Y/N knew she’d be stupid to let go of George Weasley.
~ ~ ~
George was a wreck; he was pacing around his living room basically pulling out his hair with how much he’s run his fingers through it. It had been 30 minutes since he messaged Y/N and admitted his feelings, telling her he loves her. And she hasn’t replied!
George knew he shouldn’t have said anything, clearly Y/N was just curious about his profile, just wanting to see if they’d match and she definitely does not love him back let alone like him.
He wanted to throttle Fred for convincing him to make this stupid tinder account and embarrassing him like this, now George has gone and fucked up his friendship with Y/N.
George stops pacing when he hears knocking from his front door. His eyebrows knit in confusion about who would be visiting him at this hour. George chooses to ignore it, deciding he doesn’t want to see anyone right now, all he wants to do is open some vodka and drown his sorrows. He makes it into the kitchen when the knocking starts back up again, this time louder and faster.
“Okay I’m coming!” George shouts annoyed, “Jesus, I swear this better be import-” his words disappear as soon as he opens the door and is faced with Y/N.
“What are you doing here?” Georges words come out short and brunt, but Y/N doesn’t seem to notice.
She is fiddling with her fingers and anxiously chewing on her bottom lip. “I figured this wasn’t really a conversation I wanted to have over tinder.”
Y/N is silent, the words getting stuck halfway up her throat, she doesn’t really trust her voice to be steady enough to talk. So, she decides on another route of communicating her feelings to George.
Slowly she cups Georges faces in her small hands, forcing his eyes to meet hers. George seems frozen still as Y/N softly pulls his face to down towards hers, their lips millimetres from one another. She can feel his shaky breath on her face. It feels like forever before Y/N connects their lips together, George seems to snap out of his trance as his hands wrap tightly around Y/N’s waist, holding her body close. Their lips mould together perfectly and fireworks erupt in Y/N’s belly. She feels alive and her heart is thumping in her chest and all she can think of is George. George is clouding her thoughts and, in this moment, she doesn’t want anything else to ever occupy her brain. Her heart feels warm and whole as if George had kept the final piece of her heart in his possession to keep save until she was ready and willing to give him the whole thing. Y/N doesn’t feel scared anymore of the thought of loving someone again because she knows for certain now that she’s always loved George.
They pull away from the kiss, breathlessly, George rests his forehead against Y/N’s needing to feel close to her still.
A tear slips from Y/N’s eye which George softly kisses away.
“I love you too George. Always”
238 notes · View notes
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Stray Kids as your Secret Admirer
Scenario: They are your secret admirer. Genre: Fluff/ Humour AU Prompts: College AU/ Office AU/ Idol AU/ Fan AU/ High School AU/ Non-Idol AU/ Bakery AU Pairing: Stray Kids Members X Female Reader Word count: 7,4K Warnings: None really, maybe some swear words.
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Chan: (College au)
“Just talk to her already!” Minho whined at the music major next to him. Chan, one of the biggest heartthrobs of the campus and known for his confidence, his kind nature and his amazing songs, was right now trembling in his boots because his crush walked by and almost caught him in his tracks.
Minho sighed as he spoke up again. “And how long do you think you’ll be able to keep this up?” “As long as I need to.” Chan murmured back, his face seemed to have heated up as his eyes followed her figure. Minho shook his head in disbelief at his smitten friend. It was time for another step and both of them knew it.
Chan continued his secret admirer act, writing Y/n love letters and notes of adoration.
‘You looked ethereal today, I’ve learned about this word the other day and I couldn’t help but think of you. ‘Extremely delicate and light in a way that seems not to be of this world.’’
Y/n blushed under the tree she was sitting under as she read the note over and over again. The little notes of adoration were the highlight of her day. She couldn’t believe that there was someone this good with words and this sweet who was possibly interested in her.
And Minho on the other hand couldn’t believe that Chan still was keeping up the same act like he has been for the past 4 months. But today things were going to change, Minho made sure of it. Especially since Chan didn’t notice Y/n sitting behind the tree.
“Is that another letter of affection mister Bang?” Minho teased as he noticed the familiar envelope in his friend’s hands. “Yeah.”  Chan simply giggled. The younger lad would playfully roll his eyes at him as he continued his not-so thought through strategy to make Chan confess. “When are you going to give this to Y/n?” “She has a free period right now, so I have no idea when I can sneak this into her bag or locker.” “Why don’t you just do it right now.” Minho said as they abruptly stopped walking, Minho’s hands on Chan’s shoulders to turn him around.
Causing him to finally face his crush who looked at him with a surprised expression. “Good luck buddy.” Minho simply said, patting his frozen friend before he walked off.
“So, it was you all along?” Y/n asked him as she got up on her feet to face the shy boy. “Y-you sound disappointed.” Chan mutters softly under his breath, feeling like he was going to be rejected any second now. She noticed his trembling hands and his sad eyes under his hair that was hanging over his face. She rushed to him and took his face in her hands. “I’m not disappointed, not at all! I love these notes! I cherish them dearly. They are the highlight of my day. It’s just I can’t believe that it’s you.” She giggled shyly as she made him look at her, this time her eyes filled with adoration as she looked at her admirer.
“So, your feelings are mutual?” “I fell in love with the words you’ve left me, now it’s time for me to fall with the man who’s written them.”
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Minho: (Office au)
“Sometimes I really wonder why you’re my co-worker.” Y/n whined as Minho took the small stuffed animal from her hands that she was trying to hide from him. For the past few weeks Y/n had been receiving notes and small gifts almost every day from her ‘secret admirer’. And her best friend Minho, who happened to be her colleague as well, couldn’t miss a second of teasing the living hell out of her for it.
“Seems like this guy really is whipped for you huh? Did you blackmail someone to make it seem like you’re loved by somebody- ouch!” Minho whined as he rubbed his punched arm that was hurting because of his friend. She quickly took the stuffed animal from him and placed it back on her desk.
“Shut up and no, I didn’t blackmail someone or bribed them before you even start asking.” Y/n mutters, huffing as she sat back on her seat. Minho only laughed and secretly stole a glance as he saw her look at the small soft toy in adoration.
When Minho sat across from her he had a hard time to not stare at his crush, especially with a big monitor dividing them both. He would have often have to tease Y/n and annoy her just a little bit, only to gain her attention. Her rolling eyes would be enough for him, not the best kind of attention, but it worked for him. Besides, he couldn’t make it obvious that he was the one gifting Y/n all of this or that he was her secret admirer. He wouldn’t hear the end of it if she found out that it was him.
Minho was done with his tasks and had nothing better to do, so he went to search online if there would be anything cute or anything his friend and crush would like that he could give her. If he could, he would’ve given her the world. It was a natural thing for him to admirer her. She was excellent at her job and she shined independently, so he often wondered if she even thought of him as more than a friend.
Y/n had wondered the same, she knows her best friend is eye-candy. And sadly the other colleagues of the department saw that too. Many people were all over him during breaks or would find any reason to talk to him. And all the teasing and bickering she and Minho had going on between one another, didn’t really make it look like he was interested in her like she was in him. So, this secret admirer came almost at a perfect timing as Y/n was slowly giving up on Minho and her feelings towards him. “Psst!” She heard him whisper not so subtly. ‘Dinner?’ The blue note said that Minho held up. She chuckled to herself and gave her friend a thumbs up as confirmation.
Hours passed and the two of them were now seated in their favourite restaurant. Minho was grilling the meat in between you as the two of you complained together about work.
“Let’s talk about something else.” Minho eventually proposes. “About what? You probably just want to tease me for having a secret admirer.” Y/n pouted as she munched on her food. “I mean, you’re asking for it. You have that thing on the table as we speak.” Minho laughed in disbelief. “Hey, it’s a highlight of my day, shut it.” She pointed her chopsticks at her friend as a threat, causing him to burst into laughter once again and throwing his hands up in the air. “Am I not enough for you?” Minho joked, but not receiving an answer from her cracked his heartstrings.
He looked back up after sighing softly, seeing her being too busy munching on her food. He wanted the kind of attention that she was giving everything else but him. “Maybe I should gift you a filled lunchbox next time.” Minho muttered under his breath. But Y/n’s gasp and the sound of her choking on her food made him panic and realise what he just said.
“I-it’s you who’s been gifting me things?” “Uhm-“ “You are my secret admirer?” She asked with wide eyes. “This wasn’t part of the plan.” Minho sighed as he put down his chopsticks, knowing he had to get this over one day. “I-“ “So, you are my secret admirer? Yet, you make fun of ‘him’, which turns out to be yourself?” “I’m not going to hear the end of this, am I?” “Yup.”
Minho groaned, but was sooner enough stopped by the sudden touch of her hands on his. “You’re pretty stupid you know.” “I know, but you like me. Or well, at least the gifts I gave you.” He chuckled before taking another bite of his food to avoid any kind of awkward tension. “You know that I like you better, right?” Minho breath was caught in his throat and he almost spat out his food in surprise by her confession. “Really?” “Yes, you dummy. You better get me that lunchbox you were mumbling about! Thank you baby!” She shot him a smile and pinched his cheeks playfully. Making him shake his head before he fed her some food this time. He knew better to let her make fun of him.
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Changbin: (Idol AU)
“Changbin-“ Chan was cut off by his younger friend jump up in his seat. “Why?” Changbin sighed as he tried to calm his heart, his phone clutched in his other hand. “Our manager is now even asking me, to ask you to stop.” Chan simply puts out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Changbin lied as he tried to focus again on his phone. “Mate, I literally saw the email you were writing. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” His older friend sighed. “Chan, I really just want to work together with her.” Changbin whined as his phone was taken from him by his leader. “I get that. She’s incredibly talented and your favourite rapper, but she’s also your crush and that’s why you’re acting like this.”
“Don’t you have any dignity?” Chan asked as he read parts of the mail. “Nope, she’s taken it. My sanity as well.” Changbin stated with a sheepish smile. “Well, I’ve noticed that, but you need to tone it down a little. Her manager might even think you’re a saesang or tell Y/n about all of this and you might never be able to work with her.” “I know, but she’s such an inspiration and so great. I just can’t wait.” “Time will come around, just tone it down for now.”
And time did pass. The boys started to work on their new album and it was time for them again to start promoting. Changbin had kept his promise and toned the emails down. He had hopped on the Instagram DM-train. He would compliment her on his fan-account, so that his identity would stay safe and that his members won’t tease him as much like they used to do. Changbin even hopped onto the trend of making fan-edits, to make his account seem legit okay, nothing else… 
That’s what he’s trying to tell himself.
He has so many pictures of her on her phone. Lots of ones where the concept of the pictures were ‘girlfriend material’. Binnie is an absolute sucker for those. He even found a couple edits where Y/n and Changbin himself were edited together, his fans knew about Changbin’s adoration for Y/n and some couldn’t help but ship the two. He would gush at the edits and whine to himself in wish for it to be reality. The buff rapper received weird but commons looks from his team as he was orientated on the pictures on his phone.
“Do you think he knows that Y/n is here tonight?” Hyunjin asked his leader in a whisper. “I don’t think he does. He’s a super fan, but he’s too busy crushing on her to be able to know when and where she’s actually promoting her stuff.” Chan laughed in responds.
The two teammates then had a ‘brilliant’ idea and told the others that they would be back in just a second, before they left the waiting room. Changbin was in the meantime too busy to notice them leaving as he was scrolling through his fan-account and others that posted things about Y/n.
“Changbin-“ Chan once again was cut off by Changbin who jumped up in his seat in surprise. “Again. Why?” Changbin whined as he clutched his chest. “We’ve got someone waiting for you who you’ve been wanting to meet.” Chan states as he dragged his friend with him. “Wait what-“ “Changbin meet Y/n! Y/n meet Changbin!” Hyunjin chirped as he pushed his friend closer to his crush. “Wait-“ “Welp, we got to go for now, it was lovely to meet you Y/n and I bet that we will meet each other again!” Chan grinned before he dragged Hyunjin with him back into the waiting room.
“I didn’t know you were here.” Changbin stuttered shyly, not being able to look her in the eye. “That’s an honest surprise, since my manager has told me a lot about you.” She teased as she shot him a smile. “Of course, he did.” Changbin was able to mutter out, his words seemed to be stuck in his throat.
His hands were clammy and he felt like he was sweating all over the place. He hoped he looked reasonable and that he didn’t gave her a weird impression. “I’ve heard that you wanted to do a collaboration with me?” “Yes! I mean, yes I would love to. I think that we would be able to work together greatly and that our music would go well together.” Changbin could mentally slap himself for not being able to pull himself together. “Could I give you my number then? I’ll be up in twenty minutes. So, sadly I don’t have too much time on my hands right now.”
Changbin could feel his stomach do flips in his body and his heart skip a beat. He unlocked his phone mindlessly and handed it to her as he stuttered out a ‘sure’. And then it hit him. Especially when he saw her surprised expression: his fan-account. “Wait!” Changbin stressed as he quickly took the phone from her, but she saw it already. The damage was done.
She must think that he’s a weirdo now. “You’re that sweet fan who’s been sending me all those nice messages?” Or not?
“Wait, you’ve read those?” “I’ve seen the account pop up in my DM’s quite a lot and I once accidently clicked on it and read the messages you wrote. I thought you would be able to see when I read a message you send, but I guess not. They really motivated me and they were truly the sweetest thing. My manager even teased me for having a secret admirer. Turns out that those nice emails and the sweet DM’s had a connection to each other.” Y/n said with endearing eyes to the guy in front of her.
“I guess you could say that I’m very fond of you.” Changbin shyly admits. “I’d say I’ve become quite fond of you too, but I still would like to know you better and maybe in the future work together one some music. You could say that I’m also a pretty big Stray Kids fan.” “Oh yeah, who’s your favourite then?” “Let me think, his name starts with a C and ends with an N.” “Chan?” Changbin blurts out sadly. “No silly, you Changbin.” She giggled.
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Hyunjin: (Fan AU)
“You know you will never meet her, right.” Jeongin, Hyunjin’s best friend, teased. “Shut up! You don’t need to rub it in my face you know.” He sighed as he tried to push his younger friend in the bushes next to them. “I know that it’s a hard pill to swallow, but she’s an idol. We’re not from that world, it’s not likely for our roads to cross.” “But not impossible.” Hyunjin states as a matter of a fact, causing his younger friend to sigh.
“You’re impossible.” “I’m just living my life man, just let me be.” Hyunjin cried out dramatically as he tried to continue drawing during their break. They were seated outside of the campus grounds under a nice tree, sheltered from the sun as it shined brightly.
“I get that she’s a great artist-“ “The greatest artist of all time.” Hyunjin bummed in to correct. “We’ll see about that-“ “I’ll fight you baby bread-“ “Anyway! How’s your artwork going? I still can’t believe that you build a fanbase within Y/n’s fanbase based of your art.” “I know, I’m just so inspired by her and her music, her beauty. It’s all so overwhelming I just feel like she’s unreal sometimes.” Hyunjin sighed as he stared of into the distance. “And I feel like you are unreal sometimes.” Jeongin mumbles as he stared at his ridiculous friend.
“Got anything new planned to make?” “No, I only have this one drawing that I want to finish and post.” Hyunjin answered as they continued to enjoy the warmth of the sun. “Maybe you should find an actual job that pays you money, besides trying to sell your sketches or artwork that you make off miss Y/n.” Jeongin teased. “You’re starting to sounds like my mom. At least she’s supportive of me.” He cried out dramatically, before receiving a punch from his friend. “I’m just saying, you need to do something else besides dedicating your life and all of your time to her.” “I’m perfectly fine, honestly. Sleep is just a little-“ “Dude.” “I’m kidding.” Hyunjin assured. “Well, I hope you’re not lying, because I rather not find you in a hospital due exhaustion and I got to go now, I don’t have a free period like you.” “Actually, I’m already done for the day.” Hyunjin smiled as he started to pack up as well. “What the hell are you still doing here then?” Jeongin exclaimed. “Bothering you, got to go now! Good luck on your lecture!” Hyunjin chirped before walking off.
Hyunjin had gone home and started to work on his assignment and homework. Not necessarily because he was a great student. No, he really wanted to finish of the drawing he was talking about with Jeongin earlier that day.
And he did, but then he received a notification. His breath was caught in his throat. Y/n had posted an announcement that she was holding a special concert in Seoul, where he was living and breathing. Well, not so sure about breathing. Jeongin neither.
“Hyunjin breath!”  He yelled over the phone as Hyunjin had called him to rant. “I want to go so bad! But you know what the ticket sales are like!” Hyunjin cried out late at night. “Dude, just post your art for now and go to sleep. I have a test to study for-“ “But-“ “Goodnight!” Hyunjin groaned as he put his phone away and grabbed his laptop to post the artwork he had finished.
Hyunjin sighed and contemplated on sleeping in early tonight, or at least what he dares to call early at it was one o’clock already. But he decided to spam his group chat instead.
HJ: HAVE YOU SEEN HER ANNOUNCEMENT FL: IKR YJ: FELIX DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM HJ: HE’S THE ONLY ONE WHO TRULY UNDERSTANDS (⌯˃̶᷄ ﹏ ˂̶᷄⌯) HJ: *sends a picture of one of the promo photo’s* YJ: Wait a minute FL: Jinnie I also saw your new art post! I loved it HJ: Thank youuu~ YJ: Are you two really going to ignore the fact that Y/n’s promo photo’s look a lot like Hyunjin’s art style? YJ: or….? HJ: ┌╏ º □ º ╏┐ FL: ┌╏ º □ º ╏┐ HJ: No it doesn’t YJ: DON’T YOU DARE START THIS BOII FL: BRUH HJ: YOU’RE SEEING THINGS MAN MAYBE YOU SHOULD GET SOME SLEEP YJ: YOU’RE THE ONE TO TALK FANBOY FL: BURRRRN HJ: DUDE DON’T GET ME STARTED ON YOU AND YOUR BINGE GAMING- FL: ...・ヾ(。 ̄□ ̄)ツ
A couple weeks had passed and Hyunjin got was in his room as usual as he checked his Instagram. He never bothered checking his notifications, but he wished he did. ‘Y/n_Official’ The account read.
‘It couldn’t be.’ Hyunjin muttered to himself. He checked the message and the account multiple times to see if it was legit. The young artist tried to calm himself as he read the message one last time:
‘Hi! I just want to say that I love the art that you make and I feel very humbled and flattered by it! I would love to meet you at one of the concerts that I’m holding soon. Please send your personal information to this email if you’re interested! If not, I totally understand. In that case I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate it! Thank you for supporting me!
With much love,
Y/n’
Hyunjin’s heart was about to malfunction or jump out of his chest he didn’t know. All he knew was that within the next two weeks he was now finally standing in front of his celebrity crush. Jeongin and Felix couldn’t believe how lucky their friend had gotten and even called it a fanfiction moment.
After the concert Hyunjin was taken backstage to where he’d be meeting Y/n. She had changed into a big hoodie and looked cute and comfortable. “So, you are the amazing artist behind these?” Y/n asked after they greeted each other. Hyunjin simply nodded due to his nervousness, causing his crush to giggle. “I can’t believe you’re hiding behind your own art when you yourself are stunning!” Y/n exclaimed as she shamelessly stared at the boy in front of her. “You’re the stunning one here.” Hyunjin mumbled to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. “Why don’t you give me your number I think we look stunning together, but I’d like to get to know you a little better. I would like to hear more about you instead of reading those sweet and supportive words you left for me under your artwork my pretty admirer.”
Hyunjin knew her confidence was unattainable, but that’s what he liked about her.
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Jisung: (High School AU)
Jisung sprinted through the hallways after slipping a note in her locker. He caught his breath in the hopes that she hadn’t seen him. ‘You need to be careful, otherwise you’re going to get caught.’ He scolded himself.
This is the result of falling in love with your best friend. One day they’re hanging out together, cosy on their couch and Jisung stared at her.
‘Her lips are pretty when she pouts like that.’ ‘Has her eyes always been this sparkly?’ ‘Gosh she just looks so cute and cosy I want to hug her to death.’ ‘Her cheeks look very kissable- wait what.’
Right there and then, two months ago to be exact, he realized that he had the biggest crush on his very own best friend. Suddenly she shined brighter than the sun and the stars at night. She was the only one he could see in a not-too big crowd, Jisung doesn’t really like crowds that were too big. She’s so comforting and sweet, always there for him, as a friend.
Jisung sighed once again as he made his way to class where he’d be waiting for her to join her as they were desk-mates after all.
“Sungie~” She sang whilst walking towards her own seat next to him. “You look happy today, Y/n.” Jisung states as he wiggles his eyebrows. “Another note.” She sang once again as she waved the paper in his face. “Your secret admirer?” He teased, receiving a hum in responds.
“I wonder who it could be.” “I think I might have an idea who it could be.” Y/n mutters, causing Jisung’s heart to stop. “Who?” He managed to stutter out. “I hope it’s Hyunjin to be honest.”
The answer was like a dagger to Jisung’s heart. Never she had mentioned to have feelings for Hyunjin and why didn’t he know? He could feel his heart break little by little as seconds passed by. He wanted to run away and go home to hide in his bed, but he had an entire day of school to survive. Running wasn’t an option.
Y/n on the other hand, wasn’t being honest. She was well aware that her best friend has been crushing on her. He hasn’t been very subtle about it. He was always staring at her, hearts in his eyes as he did. Y/n had to contain herself into spilling her own love for her best friend to him as she was enjoying his tactics a little too much.
She caught him putting notes in her locker, she’d wait on the corner of the hallway so he won’t notice her, but he wasn’t fast enough.
Now, days later. Jisung was at home, he hadn’t gone to school ever since Y/n’s ‘confession’. He hadn’t been feeling well, physically and mentally. He felt drained and like no hope was left for his feelings. Y/n had missed him at school and decided to surprise him. And surprised he was as he jolted in his bed when he saw his best friend stand in the doorframe of his bedroom one afternoon.
“Why haven’t you been at school?” She asked blatantly. “I’ve been sick.” “You don’t look sick to me. You don’t feel hot either, your cheeks are glowing though.” She states as she cups his face, knowing exactly what she was doing. She knew why he was home, but she wanted to hear it from him and she was growing impatient. “I just haven’t been feeling well, okay?” Jisung mumbles as he shook his head a little to try and get her hands off his now-burning face.
“Because I said I hoped that the letters came from Hyunjin instead of you?” The words made Jisung spin. “What?” He stuttered, shocked at her blunt words once again. “Sungie, c’mon just say what I want to hear.” She whined as she dropped her hands on his shoulders. Looking at him in desperation. “What?” He stuttered once again, this time confused. “Sungie, I know you like me, but I want to hear it from you! I’m literally begging you at this point to confess to me.” Y/n chuckled in madness, she was losing her mind over her dense best friend who she has falling deeply for.
“You know? How-“ “You’re not very subtle mister so-called secret admirer.” She laughed, caressing his cheeks to calm him down. She could feel him shaking after all.
“But you…” He mutters whilst his voice trailed off. “Do you want me to say it?” His silent was his answer as he didn’t know what to expect. “Han Jisung, I like you. I like you more than a friend. I want to stay best friends, because you are my best friend. But I’ve fallen deeply for you and I have started to love you.” Y/n states in a soft tone, causing Jisung’s heart to skip a beat. “I love you too.” Was all he could say before he sat up and pressed his lips onto hers.
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Lee Felix: (Idol AU)
As a foreigner and an idol in South Korea, Felix was still working on his Korean every day. He’d still learn and try to improve himself every day in order to ‘survive’ in Korea and to communicate with the locals.
And as he was doing that he tried to perfect his handwriting, which his members found cute. He didn’t know why, but he just had a certain way of writing that his member’s adored.
Felix might be an idol, but that doesn’t stop him from fanboying over his own favourite idols, which was Y/n. He had discovered her through a livestream that he was watching of a gamer that he really likes and he was surprised to see and Idol do stuff like this, she seemed to be free in whatever she wanted to do.
The freckled Aussie really liked that and he became curious about her. He wanted to know her name, but ends up falling into a pit that’s called her and now he’s pretty much stuck and whipped for her. He didn’t know how to approach her, he knew he could. He’s a public figure and so is she, but that made it tricky. He wanted to love and appreciate her, without her knowing who he was. What if she knew who he was and that she could possibly think that it could be a publicity stunt of some sort?
He had been overthinking the situation before it even had started. That’s when he started to send her flowers and handwritten letters or notes to her with words of adoration and praise. Y/n had received them all, today as well in her very own dressing room. She wondered who it could be and if the mysterious person ever wanted to show their face to her, she was curious to know who this romanticist could be. “Flowers once more?” Her stylist teases as Y/n had been busy reading the sweet letter over and over again, whilst the flowers had been resting in her arms. “It’s just so sweet and thoughtful, no one has ever done this for me. In a romantic way at least.” Y/n sighed, putting the gift away so her stylist could get to work. “I know you would like to meet your secret admirer badly, but on the brighter side your favourite group is here.” Her stylist chirps in hopes to cheer Y/n up just a little.
“Suzy stop, the girl isn’t going to let us hear the end of it once she starts about those 8.” Y/n’s makeup artist jokes. “You shh and make her even prettier, she has to meet her favourite people very soon.”
In the meantime Felix ‘only just now’ heard the news about Y/n being in the same building as they are for their promotion. “You already knew, didn’t you?” Chan simply asks after he didn’t get the reaction he hoped to receive. Felix simply nodded and hummed in responds, looking at his best friend with big and happy eyes.
The younger Aussie couldn’t sit still, he was all smiley and was very excited to hopefully meet Y/n today. He hadn’t stopped gushing about her and the boys all knew by now that Felix was hopelessly in love with this girl he’s never met before.
“Are you ready to MC with your favourite girl?” Chan teased as he shook his friend playfully. “I’m shaking,” was all Felix could say, causing his friend to laugh. “You’ll be fine. Plus, we better put on a memorable performance for her and the fans of course. Make sure she’ll never forget you.” Chan chuckled before letting his younger friend rehears his lines.
Felix ran through his notes once more as he was led to where they would be filming. His breath was caught in his throat when he spotted Y/n from the corner of his eye. Chan and his manager were across of him, sending him a thumbs up whilst staying to support him.
“Hello.” Y/n greeted cheerfully before bowing politely to Felix, whose knees were buckling. He bowed as well as he greeted her, receiving a smile from her. ‘Contain yourself Lix,’ he thought to himself before going through his notes once more. Y/n was trying to find the confidence to talk to Felix, but she couldn’t help but notice the small notes that he was busy reading and she recognised the handwriting.
“Did you write the notes?” The question made Felix freeze, but he quickly realised that she must meant the ones he’s holding, right? “Yes-“ “We need to talk- We’ll be right back! Felix needs to help me out with something!” Y/n said to the staff before dragging the freckled boy behind her.
“What wrong-“ “You’re the one who’s sending me love letters and flowers right?” Y/n asked bluntly. “What-“ “I recognise that handwriting anywhere, I’ve read this note already fifteen times and I only received it today.” Y/n states as she showed Felix the note she’s kept with her the entire time. “I… I don’t know what you’re-“ “Please don’t lie to me. It would make so much sense! You’re an idol! Your manager can get information on where I am when it comes to promotions! Not even fans know all of this! Besides, the handwriting is spot on!” Y/n stresses, wanting to know desperately if it is him or not.
“Lix?” The nickname. That was it. That was his breaking point. “Are you disappointed?” He asked carefully, not daring to look at her. Also for the reason hat his face was burning up from shyness and the adrenaline that was rushing through his body. “Of course I’m not disappointed, if anything I’m flattered and happy that you’re behind all these thoughtful and sweet gifts. They’re something that always made my day and if I felt down I’d just remember that there’s someone out there who’s so loving and caring that they would go all the way to do this for me. What if we talked more about this after promoting? I’d love to treat you for all the generosity you’ve given me.” Y/n proposed holding his hand, hopeful that he’d say yes.
And he accepted the offer within a heartbeat, knowing that today was definitely something that he won’t forget and that that performance wouldn’t have to swoop Y/n off her feet. He’s got her already.
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Seungmin: (Non-idol AU/ Bakery AU)
There she was again.
Y/n, the girl who’s been coming by on a regular basis and Seungmin had lost it all for her, because of her. All her. He blamer her for losing his sanity.
Ever since the day she’s walked in for the first time, he started losing control. Everything seemed to go wrong whenever she was around him. It was like she has put a spell on him. He always became noticeably clumsier whenever she was around, his colleagues have discovered the pattern as well and they couldn’t help but tease Seungmin for it whenever she walked into the bakery.
“Could you not drop the cakes mister Seungmin.” His boss laughed, which was Chan, a good friend of him as well. “Stop it, I don’t know why this keeps happening as well, okay?” Seungmin mutters, slightly frustrated as he picked up the now-ruined cake off the floor that he had dropped. “When are you going to confess to her? She must have noticed the small things you’ve done for her to show that you like her? You know, giving her a free drink or giving her extra things with her order?” Chan sang playfully.
“What? I don’t do that.” Seungmin scoffed in denial. “Yeah sure, that’s why you never give other customers extras.” Chan laughed, before patting the youngster, who could only sigh.
He took a quick glance of Y/n, who was sitting in her usual booth. She was hidden behind her laptop and was writing down things in her notebook. ‘Probably studying’, he thought to himself as he tried to continue working.
What he didn’t notice was that Y/n was peeking from behind her laptop to look if Seungmin was still there. She sighed and sat back. She’s been coming here regularly and not only because of the amazing pastries and drinks the bakery sold, but also cause there’s a cute employee who works here: Seungmin.
She’s been ranting to her friends about this cute boy for ages, but never had she the confidence to actually talk to him or to ask him out. She has been noticing odd behaviour coming from Seungmin’s side. He’s been stumbling over his words whenever she was in front of him, whenever other people didn’t seem to have the same experience as her.
Y/n also couldn’t help but notice the small extras he’s been giving her. ‘Keep him.’ Is what her best friend had said as soon as she mentioned the extra and free goodies from the bakery. ‘How come you never bring me stuff if you’re going to get it for free?’ ‘I’m not getting all of it for free, just something. And if you want to taste it, come see it for yourself.’ So that was it, she was not nervously waiting for her best friend to arrive as she tried not to burn holes into Seungmin’s head as she secretly stared at him.
Lucky for her, he didn’t notice. He might be just as dense as her for not noticing the mutual pining. When Y/n best friend Minho walked in and sat beside her, he noticed it within the heartbeat. “Just tell him!” Minho yelled in a whisper after hearing her rant on how cute Seungmin looks today.
In the meantime Chan was listening to his younger friend on how he might’ve lost his chance as he saw his crush sitting with another guy in her usual booth. “Just tell her!” Chan whined, taking matters in his own hand as he pushed Seungmin towards her.
Minho was doing just the same to his best friend, causing the two crushes to fall into each other. “Well, we’re going to leave you be.” Minho states, before walking off with Chan, in hopes that the two of them would finally confess so everyone could go on with their lives.
“Hi.” Y/n mutters shyly as she stood across from him. “I like you.” He blurted out, causing both of their eyes widen in shock at his forward confession. “I’m sorry-“ “I like you too!” She squeaked, not being able to look him in the eye. “Thank God, I’m not very good at being a secret admirer. I’d rather be your boyfriend.” He blurted out with newfound confidence. “Take me on a date first.” Y/n grinned, happy that he felt the same, applies for Chan and Minho as well. They wouldn’t have to hear about their rants of the other hopefully liking them, instead they now must deal with a lovey-dovey couple. But, that seemed manageable.
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Jeongin: (High School AU)
“You even received a muffin this time Y/n!” One of her classmates yelled through the classroom as soon as Y/n walked into the room.
Y/n had been receiving cartons of milk every morning with either a cute sticker on it or a sticky note with encouraging words. At first she found it very sweet, but after a while the notes became more emotional and more loving.
The class as well as Y/n had realised that she had a secret admirer. She’d say that it’s pretty exciting and flattering, but with the entire class and her own schoolyear watching her, it’s a little overwhelming to get all the curious eyes pointed at her.
Y/n put down her stuff and went to sit down before she read the note that was attached to the carton of banana milk. ‘You look lovely today! Even though I haven’t seen you yet, you’re always the one who embodies beauty. You’re doing great! Have a nice day <3’
Y/n sighed in adoration, the notes were so sweet and she kept all of them in a little box at home where no one could touch them.
Eventually, class had started and she caught someone staring at her. It was Jeongin. He was pretty quiet compared to the rest of the class. He was usually to himself as most of his friends were in a different class and since his older friend had already graduated. Jeongin didn’t notice the fact that she had caught him red-handed and it caused him to blush harshly as he quickly shot his gaze away from her.
Y/n never really paid attention to Jeongin as they weren’t close, but she had to say he’s very good-looking.
Days went by and the cartons with milk and adoration notes continued. One day, Y/n decided to go to school early so she could study for the test they were having that day. When she was about to enter her classroom, she saw Jeongin standing at her desk, with a familiar carton in his hand.
“Jeongin?” She asked, causing the boy to jump up in surprise. “Hi! Good morning Y/n.” He stuttered as he placed the carton back on her desk. “What are you doing at my desk?” “I… I was curious on what was on the note from your secret admirer. I’m sorry I shouldn’t go through your stuff. I’ll go for now.” Before Y/n could tell him that it was alright, he had already ran out of the room.
Y/n didn’t think too much of it and sat down to study, but before she did that she was curious as well to see what her secret admirer had to say to her today. ‘It’s like you’re becoming more beautiful every day, more talented, more loving. It’s almost unfair. Also, I know you’ll do your best on your test today! I’ll be rooting for you! <3’
The message of the note had been on her mind the entire time before class started, she only jolted out of her train of thoughts when the teacher asked her to hand out the tests. After she did that the test soon enough started and ended just as fast.
She was worried if she had done well or not, she’d have to wait until the results. “Y/n, could you please collect the tests and place them on my desk?” The teacher asked her, before she got up and did as she was asked to.
Her mind was still worried about the test that had just taken place as she went by every student’s desk, but her eyes caught something familiar when she picked up Jeongin’s test. The handwriting, why was it so familiar? Could it be… him?
She would’ve never thought that Jeongin would like her, or that he was capable of saying so many thoughtful, encouraging and flattering words, as he usually wasn’t the one to talk that much during class. Or to her.
Class soon ended and she went out to find Jeongin. He has been avoiding her since this morning when she caught him at her desk. It made sense to Y/n the more he thought about it. He had the same carton of milk on his desk every morning. It might be a popular brand, but still it couldn’t be a coincidence.
She found Jeongin outside with his friends and she took a deep breath before tapping him on his shoulder. Jeongin froze at the sudden touch and turned around slowly, only for him to widen his eyes in shock as soon as he saw her.
“Y/n?” “Can I talk to you for a moment?” She asked. Jeongin agreed and soon followed her to somewhere more retreated. “Is everything okay?” He asked slightly worried, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he was standing, for the first time, across his crush.
“Are you the one who gives me the milk cartons every morning with the notes?” Y/n blurted out after minutes of awkward silence. “I…” “I’m not sure if it’s actually you, but it makes sense to me. You always drink the same brand as the milk carton I receive every morning. Besides, I caught you at staring at me the other day. Plus, I caught you at my desk this morning way before school actually started.” “Uhm…” Jeongin didn’t know what to say, there was a big lump stuck in his throat, because he knew he was caught.
Again.
“If it’s not you then I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m really wondering at this point who this person is. I wanted to thank them for everything, from the beverages to the lovely notes-“ “They are from me.” Jeongin blurted out, causing him to smack his hands over his mouth in shock by his own confession. “They are?” Y/n asked surprised. The boy in front of her only nodded shyly, hoping that he wasn’t going to be rejected too harshly.
“Please don’t reject me too harsh.” He asked as he bowed politely, surprising Y/n once more. “Who said I was going to reject you?” She giggled. “You aren’t?” He asked. Him being the surprised one this time. “Of course not! I would love to get to know you, maybe we could hang out after school some more and see where this goes?” Y/n proposed with a smile. “I would love that.” “Good, I’ll get to thank you for these thoughtful gifts after all this time.”
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Gifs aren’t mine.
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greenygreenland · 4 years
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Riptide: Cole x Reader
-HAPPY 10th ANNIVERSARY NINJAGO!! -I write for females (just as a side note) because I’m a girl and it’s easy for me soooo yeah :/ -i know jay and cole are besties, but for this, let’s just say jay still likes to tease cole (friends do that anyway tho??)
Summary: Cole finds you at the beach trying to drown yourself. When he rips you out of the ocean, he realises you look familiar.
WARNINGS: Near-death (drowning)
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The waves quietly lapped against the edge of the sand, tickling Cole’s toes as he made his way across the wet grains. The moon stood high in the sky, shining brightly overhead like a lighthouse. Cole promised to catch up with the others, but he couldn’t rip himself away from the calm of the waves. 
His heart stilled with the quiet waves, sinking into the wet sand like his feet. A cool breeze passed over his face and it brushed through his windswept hair. If only Ninjago could stay this calm. If only he could be like the ocean, free, never ending. 
Cole found himself walking deeper into the ocean and away from the banks. The waves slowly met his ankles, then his knees. It soaked into his rolled up trousers, travelling up until he was waist deep. He didn’t worry about being so far out since it was low-tide. And even if he did find himself getting swept out to sea, he still had his powers. 
Something softly splashed over to his left. He whipped around, immediately taking a defensive stance. As ineffective as it was, he’d rather be safe than sorry. 
Cole eyed the smooth waters. He wondered if it was a shark, or worse, a mystical beast he never heard about. For a few moments, it was quiet, save for the waves, the calm breezes, and Cole’s steady breath. “Maybe it was a fish.” he whispered to himself with a chuckle. Something brushed his leg and he reared back with a squeal. 
“Not a fish not a f--First Spinjitzu Master!” 
The first thing Cole saw was a shirt, then a bundle of floating hair and a face hidden among it. He wanted to freak out, but a girl was laying in the sand underwater. Underwater. He plunged under the cool waves, wrapping his arms around the girl’s torso and hauling her up. “First Spinjitzu Master... First Spinjitzu Master...” Cole placed a hand on his earpiece.
“Guys! I found a girl in the ocean. She’s unconscious and...I don’t think she’s breathing. Come quick!” 
“We’re on our way.” said Zane. The nindroid’s voice was a relief to hear. “We will arrive in five minutes, and as an extra precaution, I have phoned nine-one-one.” 
“Okay, great, great.” As Cole laid the limp girl on the grainy sand, he frantically looked her up and down. Even through the curtain of hair plastered over her forehead, he could tell her face was unnaturally pale. So much, that it could have been a mirror of the bright moon.
It suddenly occurred to Cole that he had to do something. The girl wasn’t breathing and she’d die if he didn’t do something. “Gyah! I’m not the smart one!” He ran a hand over his face. There was one thing Zane did bother to teach everyone in the group, whether it be for civilian use or themselves. Cole pictured Zane standing by his side.
Place the heel of your palms on the centre of the chest.
Cole placed his hands on the centre of the girl’s chest. 
Interlock your fingers. Remember to press two inches down.
Cole interlocked his fingers. 
I have read somewhere that pressing down to the beat of Stayin’ Alive is said to ‘do the trick’ and make it easier. 
And so Cole did just that. “Ha... Ha... Ha... Ha... Stayin’ alive... Stayin’ alive...” He wasn’t sure if it was working, or even if he was doing it right to begin with. How would pressing two inches down on someone’s chest do good? How would this save her from being killed?
Suddenly, she jolted upward, coughing and sputtering out a load of water right into Cole’s face. He didn’t care though. That meant the water had come out of her lungs, right? The danger had been avoided, at least for now. 
“COLE!” 
He whipped around, letting out a loud sigh of relief. Zane and Pixal took Cole’s place, reviewing her vitals and diagnosing her with whatever. He wasn’t sure what they were doing, so he stood off to the side as Jay babbled away. “What happened? Are you okay? How did you find the girl? You didn’t have to swim out there did you?” 
Kai looked at Jay weirdly. “Do you think Cole would swim out that far to begin with? He probably found her washed ashore.” Cole wanted to say something, but he was in a daze. The more he thought about the girl, the more he wondered where he saw her from. It was like a smell you know you’ve smelled before but can’t put a name or memory to. 
He ignored the background chatter and zeroed his gaze on her limp body as Zane carried her to the ambulance. When Zane turned around and motioned for him to come over, Cole finally came back to his senses. He could think about the girl later, right now, he had to answer some questions. 
Three weeks later
“Urgh,” said Cole. “Why do I have to go with Jay?” Sensei Wu raised a brow at him as if to say, ‘really?’. “What is wrong with Jay?” he inquired. “He is a brother, and brothers should be respected.” Off to the side, Jay loudly applauded. “Period. Brothers should be respected, Cole.” He rolled his eyes with a sigh. 
“Now,” Wu interjected. “I want you both to visit Jamanakai Village. You will find Mystake’s tea shop. Get these and only these.” He handed Cole an old drawstring bag. It had a label on the string, but the handwriting was so wonky that Cole couldn’t read it. “If she tries to kick you out, tell her I sent you. That is all, I expect you both back by Thursday.”
Jay let out a long groan. “Why can’t Kai do it? Or Zane? Or Lloyd?” He smugly glanced at Cole. “Or even my wonderful girlfriend Nya? I thought they were the responsible ones.” Wu raised a brow and Cole snickered. “You will both go to Jamanakai Village. That is final. While you are out, do not forget to eat and whatever you do, no Elemental Dragons and no vehicles. You will walk the entire way to the village, am I clear?”
“Yes, Sensei.” 
To say the walk was gruelling was a nice way to put it. There were tens of thousands of other words Cole could have said to describe the terrible pain of having Jay around. Of course, he didn’t actually mean that, but hypothetically, the walk was terrible. 
“You know,” said Jay, “these birds are said to have been exported from the Dark Island.” He pointed to a nearby tree, where three or four birds sat. Their oily wings were like liquid obsidian. Funnily enough, the colour matched both Cole’s gi and hair. He watched as one of them flew away, fluttering straight over his head and into the sky above. 
Cole wondered if it would be nice to live life as a bird, but then he realised he wouldn’t have a bed or cake or chocolate and candy. 
“I’m guessing they were exported before the Dark Island became...you know.” added Jay. “I mean, how could these cute little guys be from there?” He reached out to pet one of the birds. It squawked and bit his finger. “OW!” Jay rounded on the tiny bird, who actually appeared to be laughing. “Bad bird! That’s a no-no! You don’t bite people like that.” 
Jay ripped off his glove and sucked on his poor finger. Cole stared at him as he whimpered. “Is it bleeding?” 
“Gwee, I fondt knowh.” 
Cole dug a hand in his pouch. He felt around and pulled out a band-aid along with a small alcohol wipe. “Here.” Jay took the band-aid and wipe, gingerly dabbing it on his wound and wrapping the band-aid around his finger. “Thanks.” 
“Yeah.” 
They continued on in a comfortable silence, caring only to watch the leaves sway in the wind. When they arrived in Jamanakai village, their feet were sore, and they were tired. Jay’s stomach grumbled, and so did Cole’s. 
“I knew we should have eaten before we left.” Cole muttered. Jay let out a long yawn. “Sensei Wu said we were supposed to be back by Thursday. That’s three days away without video games. Do you think I can survive like this? Do you Cole?” 
He wasn’t listening. A heavenly smell reeled him in like a fishing line. It was sweet, yet it smelled like green tea. Maybe it was cake; Cole hoped it was cake. “Do you smell that?” he seriously inquired. Jay knitted his brows together. “The bakery? Oh, it’s right there.” He pointed to a small shop to their left, where a girl stocked freshly baked cakes and buns. 
Cole could already imagine how pillowy and soft the buns would be. They would have sweet fillings that melted in his mouth, and the cake would be the perfect texture with the right amount of cream. He made his way to the bakery, keeping a keen eye on the fresh chocolate cake. 
“Cole, we’re not here to buy cake.” said Jay. “If we’re gonna eat, we might as well eat a real meal.” Cole rolled his eyes and pointed to a slice of chocolate cake. “I’ll take one of that, please.” 
The cashier took out a pair of sparkling tongs. “Will that be all?” she inquired with a smile. “My grandma just finished steaming the buns, they’re fresh.” Cole whipped towards the cashier. For some reason, her voice sounded so familiar. It was again, like a smell that reminded him of something he couldn’t quite place. Sweet, nostalgic, kind.
That’s right, he thought. This was the girl he saved on the beach. But before then, he knew her as the studious (Y/n) (L/n) from the Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts. When Cole had no one to talk to in class, she was there. When he forgot his lunch, she shared it with him. When he decided to run away, she promised not to forget him. 
(Y/n) walked out from behind the counter. She handed Cole a bag of two containers. “It was you, wasn’t it?” Her voice was rather soft, like she were embarrassed anyone else would hear. “You saved me, on the beach.”
“Y-yeah, I did.” Was it just Cole or was it getting hot out here?  He didn’t need anyone to tell him his face had gone beet red. “Thank you Cole. I might have snuck ‘a few’ more cakes in the bag. That guy’s your friend, right? There are some buns in there for him too.” 
Cole met (Y/n)’s bright eyes. They weren’t as lively as he remembered, but they still held that warm glow that always made him feel safe. “I--uh--(Y/n)...” 
“Yeah?”
“Uh...do you still go to the Marty Oppenheimer School?” Do you want to hang out sometime? “I mean...uh...” How have you been? “T-thank you for the food.” He let out a nervous laugh and (Y/n) chuckled a little. “If you’re wondering, I graduated last year.” she said. Cole’s eyes widened. Had that much time already passed? 
“I live in Ninjago City now.” she added. “I didn’t think I would make it this far, but I did. I’m here in Jamanakai for the next three months before I go back to the city. I heard you’ve been up to things too--ninja stuff. Saving lives.” She smiled at Cole, as if the two shared an inside joke. 
“(Y/n)! Help me carry this, it’s too heavy for me!”
(Y/n) glanced over her shoulder. “One second, grandma!” She turned back to Cole and wrapped him in a tight hug. It was brief, it was sweet, and it made Cole remember just how close they used to be. “I have to get back to work. See you soon Cole?”
“Yeah.” he awkwardly replied. “See you soon.” He watched as she disappeared out back. When did he finally become taller than her? When had she actually spoken so nonchalantly? Last time he saw her, they were still kids. They were young, and even with responsibilities, they were still free. 
“Sooooo, you’ve got yourself a girl?” inquired Jay. He took the bag from Cole and made his way over to the fountain. The two sat on the ledge as Jay sifted through the food. There were buns filled with red bean paste, lotus paste, and even barbeque pork. Under that were five different desserts. Two velvety chocolate cakes, one egg tart, and three pieces of perfectly wrapped mochi. 
Jay took one of the meat buns. “Wow, this is really good. Tell your girlfriend to teach you how to cook.” Cole let out a short sigh. “She’s not my girlfriend, Jay. I haven’t even seen her in years.” 
“What? Why?”
Cole closed one of the boxes. He dug around the bag for a fork, but he grasped a small slip of paper instead. Jay peered over Cole’s shoulder with wide eyes. “Ooooo she gave you her phone number? See! Dating. Case closed. I’m gonna tell everyone when we get back.” 
“No you aren’t.” Cole retorted. “Like I said, I haven’t seen her in years. She probably only wanted to get back in touch.” Jay raised his brows and Cole elbowed him in the stomach. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” He pulled out one of the buns and took a big bite out of it. “We went to the same school together as kids. We became friends there, but when I ran away from home, we lost contact.” 
“So go talk to her!” exclaimed Jay. “Before we go, I’m setting you both up on a date, or at least a night out together. We’re not going home on Thursday, got it? We’re staying ‘til Saturday and that’s final.” Cole raised a brow in amusement. “I thought you said you wanted to play video games.”
“If your girlfriend has a phone, then she has video games.” said Jay smartly. Cole let out a bright laugh. All he really knew now was that he’d have to come to Jamanakai Village more often. 
NOTE: I will make a part two soon, so stay tuned! Tip jar
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crystalas · 3 years
Text
Hind Sight
This is both inspired and a sort of prequel to Starfics’ answer to my prompt, I loved the idea of it so much that I started a Demon Bull Divorce AU, have fun!
Hindsight
Like a lot of things in hindsight MK could see that this was a very dumb idea.
It was a spur of the moment idea that came to him and Mei as they saw Red Son in the garage with his signature jacket hanging up because said fire demon was currently up to his elbows in tuk-tuk engine bits.
Red Son had just shown up at the noodle store one day declaring that he was there to ‘pay off his father’s debt’ after the whole lunar new year event. Everyone was a bit suspicious at first but Mei and MK decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, after all they knew he wasn’t all evil. True to his word he helped out with fixing stuff and had offered to upgrade the Tuk-tuk, after a few weeks they had managed to convince him to hang out with them after work as well.
That day MK had figured out how to shrink himself and after showing Mei she grinned and suggested they surprise Red Son with it.
Which was the aforementioned very dumb idea.
Said idea was for MK to shrink himself and then have Mei put him in Red Son’s jacket pocket, and when Red Son put it back on, have Mei ask the fire demon if he has seen MK and when he said no ask him to check his pockets…boom! Itty MK!
So, the joke was set, a shrunk MK in place and Mei was now walking up to Red Son as he clambered out of the Tuk-Tuk’s mechanical guts wiping away the grease from his hands.
“Hey Red boy” she beamed.
“Hey dragon horse girl” he said back as he got up.
“Have you seen MK?”
“No but I need to show him how to operate the upgrades…” he began but stopped when he looked at the clock on the garage wall, his smile dissolved into mild panic.
“Is that the time?!” he yelped and rushed past Mei grabbing his coat, igniting his hands to burn off all the grease and oil that had clung to him still and began to make a move for the door. “I’m sorry I need to get home tonight, tell Noodle boy I’ll show him tomorrow, okay?” Red Son yammered quickly.
“Red wait!” Mei cried as he vanished into a swirl of fire.
“Did you check your pockets?” she whimpered sheepishly.
 MK felt like he was in a weird fair ground ride, cushioned in fabric and being swung around like on a rollercoaster; it was kind of fun. Not to mention he found a wrapped candy in here and at his current size it was as big as a pillow! He could hear Mei and Red Son talking and waited for his que but then things got very bumpy and then felt very hot and weird for a second as he felt his whole body move in a way that shouldn’t be possible for him before the background ambience of the city suddenly died into a hushed sound of far-off clanking and whirring.
He poked his head out of the pocket to see he was now in an old Chinese style mansion but it was underground and hewn from the rock itself, the walls were adorned with demon Bull family heirlooms and pictures all showing the grand history of the conquering demon clan. MK could hear Red Son muttering to himself.
“I’ve got enough time to check on the projects and get in my best clothes…did I remember to check the repair schedule for the clones?”
MK was about to poke out of the pocket and announce himself when Red Son stopped by a large door that seemed to lead to a main hall, he seemed to hesitate near the entrance as MK and no doubt Red Son could hear angry raised voices.
“How is it I was the one stuck under a mountain but you are the one stuck in the past?” Demon Bull King demanded.
“I am thinking of our legacy and heritage, things you seem keen to throw away!” Princess Iron Fan retorted.
“Our pursuit of power has only brought us trouble!” came the angry reply “We need to move with the times!”
“Listen to you!” Princess Iron Fan screeched “You sound that useless son of ours!”
MK poked out of the pocket and looked up at Red Son who looked forlorn but not surprised as he carried on past the door his shoulders hunched over as he hurried through. Red Son came to a kitchen that seemed big enough to feed a whole court full of people but it was sadly empty and hollow except for one corner where a bull clone was currently working at a stove top. It saw Red Son and bowed respectively.
“I don’t think family meal time will be happening tonight” Red Son declared “so I will be taking my evening meal in my room…again…” the bull clone nodded and got back to preparing said meal. Red Son continued walking through the vacant halls as the vicious shouting ebbed away to quiet muffled sounds. He came to his room and sat at his desk; MK looked around to see his room unlike the rest of the castle had a bit of life to it. There were posters of car designs and movie mechs adorning the walls, a work table filled with small cabinets of tools and gear and what looked to be a shelf filled with scrolls and old tomes. MK had wondered why someone as tidy as Red Son would have what looked to be an arranged pile of tinfoil and fabric in a corner of his room before he realised that must his bed. He remembered Pigsy saying how some demons prefer nests to human style beds.
Okay I really need to show myself before things get even more awkward MK decided and he started to climb out but froze when he heard the door open, Red Son turned to see his mother glaring at him and MK quickly dived back into the safety concealment of the jacket.
“You’ve ruined him” she hissed, and MK could feel Red Son flinch. “Your father was a proud mighty demon King who conquered whole armies alone and made the heavens fear him and now looked at what you have done!”
“Isn’t this better?” Red Son said quietly “I mean…this way we won’t have to worry about him being hurt or sealed… aah!” came the pain gasped as MK could hear a very sharp and painful smack, MK grabbed the fabric of the pocket as Red Son’s whole body violently jerked to the side.
“Be quiet you worthless whelp!” she snarled “I kept our family name safe and proud for centuries and in one year you’ve weakened your father, the great Demon Bull King to the point that he wants to ‘settle down peacefully’!” she said the last bit dripping with venom and MK wished for Red Son to speak up or say something or at the very least move from where he was sitting but he didn’t.
“I’m sorry mother…” was all he managed after a moment of silence.
“Sorry doesn’t undo what you have done!” she spat and MK listened to the sound of her shoes moving away, “Sometimes I wish you had never returned!” she exclaimed coldly before shutting the door.
The fabric around him lurched as Red Son moved and he could feel energy pulse around him like the sky before lightning struck, it was only then did MK realised how dumb this idea really was. Red Son ignites into flames when upset or angry and it’s pretty obvious his clothes are fire proof to deal with that.
MK wasn’t fire proof…
MK made a mad scramble out of the pocket and leapt away just in time for a massive inferno engulfed where he had been hiding and everything else around it. He landed on the cold stone floor and patted himself down to make sure nothing was on fire and once he was sure he wasn’t smouldering he looked back up at the crackling fire ball that was his friend. Red Son still hadn’t moved from the desk but was now hunched over it his hands clawing into his fiery hair his eyes tightly shut but flames still leaked out and his whole body was shuddering as he tried to control his breathing.
MK decided that maybe he should give the fire demon with known anger issues some time to breathe and started to make his way to hide in the nest till he seemed to have calmed down but as he tiptoed his way across the room Red Son sensed the movement. The fire evaporating into the air as Red Son turned around and scanned the room, he glanced down to see a tiny MK in mid sneak.
Red Son looked at MK confused.
MK looked at Red Son worried.
There was a pregnant pause.
“Heh heh …Ta da!” MK said weakly and held out his hands as if to show off “Look what I can do now!”
“Noodle boy?” Red Son muttered quietly as his brain tried to fathom him being there before it clicked that he was and what that might imply. “How long have you been here?” he asked a look of dread falling on his face.
“Oh pssh!” MK tried to dismiss “Not long…no not long at all!”
“Noodle boy” Red Son growled, “How long?”
“… … …” MK struggled to come up with a decent excuse before sighing and returning to his full size, if they were going to have this talk he wanted to be able to look him in face. “Since you made a mad dash out of the garage…”
Red Son gave a groan and covered his face before returning to slump on the desk.
“I know this is going to sound dumb but is everything ok?” MK inquired, “I don’t know how demon families work but that…didn’t sound good.”
“Everything’s fine Noodle boy!” Red Son declared sharply, “My parents are just…going through a rough patch, that is all!”
“A rough patch huh?” MK muttered before walking over to the desk and lightly touching Red Son’s face where the red mark showing where his mother had slapped him was now fading away. How many times had that happened and no one knew thanks to demon healing powers? Red Son batted his hand away and snarled angrily.
“Yes!” he snapped and glared at his desk.
Things were clicking into place in MK’s mind, in hind sight he should have wondered why Red Son showed up out of the blue and wanted to pay off some demon debt, why he had wanted to stay around them as long as possible and even agreed to hang out in the evenings and only on certain days [apparently for family meal times] would he actually go home before anyone else.
MK remembered in the first week of Red Son coming over, Pigsy finally gave in and let Red Son help by telling him to try and get his old tricky stove working again. Red Son had not only fixed it but cleaned it up and gave it a full work through and when he was finished the thing looked and worked as if brand new. Pigsy in his joy of getting his stove back to its prime for free patted Red Son on the back and declared he had paid back the debt in spades.
MK had wondered that day why Red Son had looked so upset but had dismissed it when a moment later the fire demon had gone on a tirade about how insulting it was that Pigsy thought his father’s life was worth only an afternoon of labour.
Maybe Pigsy and Tang had cottoned on a lot sooner than he had because after that they would always find little things for Red Son to do to ‘pay back the debt’.
“Red Son” Mk said as these thoughts mulled in his mind “Was there even a debt to pay off?”
Red Son turned to face him, he fidgeted with his hands for a few moments before sighing.
“I…I…I thought you would be more at ease if you thought that I was honoured bound to behave…”
“Why didn’t you just say something?”
“Like what?!” Red Son retorted “Please may I come over here because I rather spend my days with my enemies rather than my parents because they’re constantly fighting and I can’t do anything to fix it?!” Red Son jaw snapped shut and his hair flared up angrily. “Because they don’t! Fight all the time…I mean…” he exclaimed as he tried to back pedal out of the conversation.
MK watched Red Son and felt a wave of pity come over for him, it was like looking into a mirror of seven years ago. He could almost feel the emotions Red Son must be going through right now, the uncertainty of what was going to happen next, the guilt of not being able to stop it, that gnawing anxiety of thinking if he was to blame somehow. And that horrible cold fear of knowing that sooner or later one of them will be coming up to take their frustration out on someone who won’t fight back…
He thanked the gods regularly that he was fortunate enough that it was Pigsy that caught him dump diving behind his store, how different would his life had been if Pigsy and Tang hadn’t taken him in? He probably had starved to death on the streets that winter.  
“Everything was supposed to get better when Father came back…” Red Son muttered to himself but was jolted back into the room as MK put his hands on his shoulders.
“Your parents are going through some stuff right now, so do you want to hang out at my place while they work it out?”
“What?” Red Son spluttered.
“Maybe they just need some space I dunno” MK said, “but what your mom did was not okay, and I’m worried about you”
“Why?”
“Because we’re friends you dummy!” MK laughed “and friends help each other even without demon debts to pay!”
Red Son stood up and pulled out a duffle bag from his wardrobe, he started to fill it with clothes, a stuff bull toy that looked to be antique and over-night necessities.
“You seem to have experience with this sort of thing” Red Son ventured quietly as MK helped him put his tools away in a box for travel.
“Let’s just say I’ve been where you are” MK said softly.
“In your experienced opinion…will me not being here helped my parents to reconcile?”
MK swallowed a hard lump in his throat, he didn’t know if it helped with his parents because he ran away from home and as far as he knows they never came looking for him. Mk was on the streets for three weeks before that fated night at Pigsy’s and it’s been seven years since then and he’s only ever caught a glimpse of them while during his deliveries on the streets.
“Sure, they will” MK answered with a smile “I hope so!”
Red Son left a note telling his parents exactly where he was and how to contact him before they left.
MK wasn’t all that surprised when after explaining the situation Pigsy happen to have a spare fold out bed in the store room.
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