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fanaticsnail · 5 months ago

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Seat Number Four

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 4,500+

Synopsis: You are stuck on an eight hour flight between two gentlemen you have never met before. Unaware of their prior history and dislike for one another, you attempt to relax and watch a new series your friend recommended. The series was a little more raunchy than you had anticipated, and you become a little uncomfortable in your seat between the two attractive men. Doflamingo reassures you your need is nothing to be ashamed of, and he would be more than willing to help you out if you allowed him to teach the younger blonde how to best please you.

Warnings: Doflamingo x cisfem!reader x Sanji, gendered terms used, Vinsmoke name used, modern au, NSFW, smut, MDNI, 18+, threesome, public sex, fingering, finger sucking, penetration, oral, (dub con masturbation by a guest appearance), Spanish Doflamingo, French Sanji, not very much plot, praise (reader receiving), degradation (Sanji receiving), bisexuality hinted (subtle Sanji x Doffy), Dom Doffy, Sub Sanji, switch reader, voyeurism.

Notes: based on this post by @/shamblespirate (I don't know if they'd like to read this or not, so I thought I'd spare them the debauchery) and the encouragement of @physics-of-one-piece. Sitting between Doffy and Sanji, two unhinged blondes on an 8 hour flight? What could go wrong?

Stumbling through the boarding gates and checking your luggage at the last minute should've been the sign that this eight hour flight was not going to go the way you expected.

This simple trip you needed to take for work was booked at the worst time. The only warning you received from your boss was a quick email stating the fact that you needed to pack your bags to attend a week long conference. No further context, no meetings, no chance for rebuttal, and simply no time.

What made matters worse is the fact that you were meant to be situated on the window seat of the last row of the plane. Closest to the bathroom, furthest from the food, and caged by the bodies of two complete strangers.

However, these strangers seemed to know each other, both sitting in pregnant silence as steam seemed to rise from the younger blonde’s ears in simmering rage. That same younger blonde, who seemed to take your absence from the final call for boarding as your consent, to sit in your assigned seat.

Not one to cause a fuss, you stored your carry on above the taller, tanned blonde in the aisle. His glasses did very little to conceal the heavy eye contact he made with your breasts as you had no choice but to bury him in the chasms of your chest as you stuffed your bag above him.

The first few hours of your early afternoon flight was filled with tension. While the taller man seemed to antagonize the younger blonde in Spanish, the younger would curse at him in French beneath his breath.

Blocking them both out with your headphones, you opened your traveling laptop as soon as the signs indicated it was safe to do so, and listened to music while finishing off your final projects for your boss. Each time you made to adjust your arms more comfortably, you would inadvertently brush your body against either of the two men. Uttering your apologies beneath your breath each time, you were not made privy to the conversation that was being made regarding your persons.

“She looks rather pent up, rubio. Do you think she'd appreciate my fingers stuffing her pretty cunt full-?” the snickers of Doflamingo were cut short by the younger blonde.

“-That is no way to treat a lady!” the hushed tone flew through the air like a kick to the chin, only seeming to draw up the older blonde’s smile wider. Looming over your shoulder as you commenced the beginning of a series, Doflamingo looked through the base of his glasses at you before looking over the rim at Sanji.

“You were the one to take her seat, mi pequeño. How’s that for treating a lady?” Sanji glared at him, offering no retort for the theft of your seat. It's true, he stole it from you the moment he noticed the close proximity to the Don of Quixote. Being an heir to the Vinsmoke dukedom had them both in similar social circles, and each time they met, Doflamingo would tease and torment him regarding his obsession with serving women.

Treating women with respect was a foreign concept for the other heirs, and Doflamingo seemed to enjoy tormenting him about it. In actuality, he admired that in him. Doflamingo loved his mother, and he often thought of her fondly. Sanji made those soirees entertaining and bearable, and Doflamingo wanted to return the favor.

“I think this lady would allow us both to treat her, if you catch my meaning,” Doflamingo chuckled, prompting Sanji to snap his head over at him. Before the younger could speak, Doflamingo halted him with an observation, “The series she seems to be watching has had a fair amount of love scenes and nudity. I don't think she was anticipating that in this series. Just look at her, sitting there all flustered.”

Slowly shifting his eyes over your form in a manner to not startle you, he noticed how flustered your face was. Eyes wide, heat radiating from your face, and slinking your body down into the seat, surely enough, you were fully fixed on the series. Although the screen was darkened, Sanji could clearly make out the shapes of two men and a woman indulging in intimacy on the screen.

Your breathing seemed to both slow and quicken with the elevation of your heartbeat, prompting Sanji’s eyes to darken on your blissfully ignorant form. Doflamingo's grin widened as he gained Sanji’s attention back onto him.

“Once the rest of the aircraft vessel falls asleep, I would love to teach you how to really treat a lady, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo intentionally brushed his chest against your shoulder as he learnt closer to Sanji, “If she's willing, of course.” Hastily darting his eyes down to you and back up to Doflamingo, Sanji reluctantly gave his nod of understanding.

“Only if she's willing. I don't want to make her uncomfortable,” he uttered strictly. Noticing the soft shudder in your form as Doflamingo held himself against you, Sanji felt this wave of protection swirl in the pit of his stomach. As soon as he made to make a move to rally to your defense, you made yourself comfortable in the shroud of Doflamingo’s embrace.

“I think she'll be more than willing,” Doflamingo eyes you dangerously before reaching down to unplug your headphones from your ear. Snapping your head over to him, he hushed you with his voice dripping in smarmy sweetness.

“Easy now, mi querida,” he smiled genuinely, “The dining cart will be by shortly. Just making sure you didn't miss out on a choice.”

“Oh!” You smiled at him reaching down to the bags you stored beneath the seat for your wallet. “Thank you, mister…?”

“Doflamingo,” he gave you a polite nod of his head while closing his eyes at you. Gesturing with his chin, he drew your attention to the younger blonde, “The Frenchy is Sanji.” You turn your smile to the younger one, noticing his fluster seemed to grow and litter his cheeks in a soft blush.

“We couldn't help but notice the series you were watching,” Doflamingo continued, his fingers hooked beneath your chin and turning you to face his much taller body, “And I thought you should know, we're both very interested in seeing how it plays out. Care to remove the headphones from the port so we can hear too?”

“Oh, uh-...” a wave of bashfulness overcomes you at the knowledge that they were both witnessing a particularly graphic depiction of love making over your shoulder, “...a friend recommended the series. I didn't know what to expect, and they absolutely didn't warn me about the content.” Both Doflamingo and Sanji chuckled at you in their own ways, enjoying your company and getting a better read on your character.

“I don't think either of us mind a bit of graphic content in with our plot, do we pequeño,” Doflamingo asked Sanji, his smile quirking up at the corner, “You could use a few pointers on how to please a woman anyhow.”

“Speak for yourself, le vieillard,” Sanji retorted at him in a hastened quip, “I know how to please a woman just fine.” You shook your head and chuckled at the way they balanced one another. As the dining cart approached, Doflamingo placed his order and offered to pay for both yours and Sanji’s in synchrony. Both of you expressed your gratitude, enjoying being treated by the older man.

As the night wore on, your meals lay firstly improved by the younger blonde before consumed. You learnt they were both in high social circles, the younger had aspirations of becoming a chef as depicted in his satchel of spices. The older gentleman was from a reputable family that sold their fortune off to investors without his consent. He had to claw his way back up to the top, leading to an empire he molded for himself.

While they truly should've been in first or business class, both of them seemed to find entertainment in regular seating. You were grateful for their attention and company, and enjoyed being doted and treated by two blonde men who were eager to please in their own ways.

Once under the cover of nightfall, the meal trays left collected and napkins discarded, and the raunchy series had finished, you all spoke in hushed tones and gossiped about the characters. Talks of: “She deserved to find happiness,” or, “The way they filmed that was exceptional. Tasteful nudity with a hint of wanting. Simply beautiful,” and “She could've had both men if she played her cards right.”

Doflamingo’s larger form swooped ever closer, the shroud of his pink, feathered cloak caging your body in your seat as he leant in closer. Asking permission with his eyes, you nodded your head as you felt him press his lips against yours. Tongues darting out, Doflamingo reached forward and grasped at Sanji, tugging his wrists and placing them on your thighs first. Guiding Sanji's chin up to your neck, you felt the younger man latch and lick at your pulse as Doflamingo stole your breath from your lungs with his kiss.

Tilting your chin with his hand, Doflamingo made a trail with his digits down your neck and through the hem of your shirt to grip at your breast. Noseying through the material of your bra, he began softly rolling and lightly pinching your nipples beneath the cups. Consuming your soft gasps needily, he guided one of Sanji's hands to reach beneath your shirt to cup at your other breast.

Hands, lips, tongues and teeth overwhelmed you. Everything was too little and too much all at once. You felt your arousal soak through your panties as both men toyed at your thighs and hemline to your stomach. Simply no longer caring about professionalism and giving into their touch, you allowed them to push aside the material and undo your pants.

Breaking away from the kiss, Doflamingo’s hands brushed over your mound and down to toy at your glistening folds. A gasp was strangled in your throat as you attempted to stifle it. The heavy snores and breathing from the seats in front and beside you indicated you didn't disturb anyone of their slumber, but you didn't want to take the risk of being too loud.

Lowering himself down into your ear Doflamingo purred at you, “I am going to teach Sanji how to please you. I am going to have you cum on my fingers a few times before I let him try.” You gulped back a mouthful of nervous saliva as Sanji shot his attention between you both, “Is that okay with you, mi amor?” You couldn't pull your eyes away from the older man, nodding almost dumbly as if hypnotized by the promise of the pleasure to cum. Chuckling, Doflamingo presses a kiss to your jaw before licking a stripe up to your ear possessively.

“If you can't help yourself from moaning, I'll have Sanji stuff your mouth full of his fingers for you to suck on. Do you want them straight away, or do you want to wait?” He offered you Sanji’s hand raised to your lips, pressing the pads of his digits at your lips just as he sank his own further down to tease at your arousal. Whimpering, you immediately took Sanji’s fingertips in your mouth and swirled your tongue around them.

Sanji gasped, his own moans choking in his throat as he became caught up in the moment. Doflamingo shoots him a warning look, growling out a low order at him.

“And if you can't help but moan at the feeling,” Doflamingo gestured with his chin to your breasts, “Make your mouth useful and flick that silver tongue over her nipples. Let her feel that frenulum piercing you think your daddy hasn't noticed.” Sanji’s eyes went wide, the tension once again rising between them.

“I am not calling you daddy, le vieillard,” Sanji barked in a harsh whisper, prompting Doflamingo to chuckle as he began toying with the border and hood of your clit with his middle and unity fingers.

“I was referring to your biological father, niño. However,” he leans over your shoulder and scrunched his nose at the younger man playfully, “If the mood arises, I prefer ��Papi’.” Tugging your body flush against his chest, hidden by the shroud of his cloak and broad shoulders, Doflamingo snaked his hand around your waist after drawing up the armrest between the seats.

Sanji pushed up your shirt, physically unable to contain the moan that flew from his lips the moment he noticed the ripple of your breasts bouncing free beneath the fabric. Immediately surging forward, Sanji latched onto your left nipple, swirling and mouthing at your puckered nipple and romancing it with his kisses. Doflamingo chuckled as you offered the same enthusiasm mirrored back to him.

Without further warning, Doflamingo prodded and pressed at your entrance with his fingers, curling and grinding them against your glistening arousal and collecting your slick over his fingers. Stifling your pretty mewls on Sanji’s fingers, Doflamingo curled his digits in you, using the pad of his thumb to roll against your clit as he began beckoning his hooked fingers slowly. Stimulating your clit and your g-spot with his hand, he leaned down to be in earshot of both you and Sanji.

“Look at you both. Both my sweet little ones are doing so well,” Doflamingo purred lightly, “Is mi reina sucking your fingers good, mi príncipe? Is she using her tongue like a good little reina, hm?” You bit back your moan, opening your mouth and demonstrating to Doflamingo how your tongue swirls and grinds against Sanji’s fingers. Sanji couldn't help himself, Stradling your thighs as you were tucked in Doflamingo's lap. Slowly rolling his hips against you, you felt how hard the young blonde was as he bucked his clothed cock into your thigh.

Chuckling, Doflamingo doubled down on his efforts to make you squirm. Holding you flush against his chest, he continued coaxing out soft mewls muffled by Sanji’s fingers in your mouth.

“Stop your petulant rocking, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo whispered his soft tease down at the younger blonde, “This was about pleasing her. You think she wants your precum soaking her pretty thighs through your pants? How's that pleasing her?” Sanji gasped, the cool intake of air causing your body to tremble at the harsh cold. Switching to the other breast, Sanji whimpers against you as he attempts his hardest to not rock his steely cock on your legs. His eyes dart down to where Doflamingo’s larger hands pry open your walls and scissor his fingers in your pussy with expert precision. Doflamingo leans down and nudges Sanji’s fingers away with his forehead before swallowing your moans with his lips covering your own.

Hastening the pace of his fingers and thumb, perfectly coaxing and beckoning your orgasm from you, your body explodes in the quickened lightning of your ecstacy. It felt almost out of the blue, unprompted but not at all unwelcome. The scream from your throat was captured and muffled by Doflamingo’s lips as he chuckled into your mouth. Unintentionally bucking your hips up into his hand, Sanji whimpered as your thigh brushed with his cock. The vibration of his moan shot through your nipple and down to pool more of your glistening arousal over Doflamingo’s palm.

“My, my. That was a big one, mi amor. Is there another? Another one for me?” he uttered against your lips, prompting you to shake your head hastily to not have him stimulate you further. He clicked his tongue in a curt ‘tsk,’ before removing his hand from your pussy. Your walls contracted in the final pulses of your bliss in a bid to keep his digits within you as he pulled out.

“Aw, but she wants more,” Doflamingo purred at you, referring to your cunt twitching and throbbing after coming down from your orgasm. Sanji couldn't help himself, he hastily pushed Doflamingo’s face away from yours with his chin before meeting his lips with your own. He greedily dominated your lips, his desperation coming out in soft pants and barely audible whispers.

“Please. Please, I need you. Please?” Sanji attempted to relay, not entirely certain as to what he was asking. All he knew is that he wanted it, and the ‘it’ in question was ‘you’. Peeling back the button of his pants, the rosy tip of his pretty flushed cock immediately sprung forth. You had never seen such a beautiful cock before: all shiny and throbbing with need, the pearls of precum coating the small slit over the blunt tip. The slender shaft had several veins prompting the swell in desire, your own immediately rising just by his need alone.

He did not set out a plan in motion to fuck you in front of Doflamingo, but he was too far gone to not clothe his cock in the heat of your cunt after witnessing how truly beautiful you looked while keening in bliss. Doflamingo moved to chastise the younger boy, only halting as he witnessed you push your pants over your hips and down to your knees. Rolling onto your stomach to face your enshrouded breasts to Doflamingo, you arched your back and whispered to Sanji.

“Let me sit in your lap like this, sweety?” you moved your ass to sit with your back facing Sanji’s chest. His cock found its home between your legs, the tip brushing with your clit as he rocked into your firmly shut thighs. Each soft drag of his cock prompted him to sign out little gasps of pleasure. Doflamingo arched his brow as he witnessed you huff on Sanji’s lap as a wave of fresh desire swelled within you. Displeasure and unamusement grew over his face the longer you paid attention to the younger blonde.

Turning back your attention to Doflamingo, you motioned with your arms for him to come closer to you. Doing as you asked you reached up and gripped the open collar of his shirt and tug him into you. Lips finding his once more, your tongue sought out his own to perform against it in a sultry dance. Grinding the muscle over his own, you lifted your hips and lined up your slit with Sanji's knob. Just as you were sinking yourself down onto him, you halted your motion and tore your lips away from Doflamingo's.

“Can I suck your cock?” you asked the larger man, “It'll keep me quiet, I promise. Please? I want to please you too. Let me, Mister Doflamingo?” Doflamingo could barely contain the shudder that ran through his spine. With the soft quiver of his jaw, he gulped emphatically before popping open the front of his leather pants.

“And how is that going to keep the one you're sitting on quiet? Or me, for that matter?” he asked you with his brow quirked up. You aided him in releasing his cock from the confines of his pants by fishing it out with your hands. Taking the velvety shaft into your hands, your eyes bulged as you witnessed the sheer size of him. He was a lot larger than you in both height, and the girth of his cock. You were ever grateful that you opted to fuck the younger man as opposed to the giant in front of you.

Circling your hand at the base and peeling back his foreskin, you whispered up at him, “You're smart, I'm sure you'll think of something.”

Doflamingo physically gasped the moment he felt your breath hover over his cock, briefly meeting his eyes over Sanji as you sank your pussy and your mouth over both of them in unison. Sanji’s gaze was focussed on your ass as it rippled in gentle rocks down onto his shaft, while Doflamingo focussed his eyes on Sanji while trying not to give away how truly unraveled he was becoming by your lips.

Pressing soft, kitten licks over his blushing tip, you cleaned away Doflamingo’s first dews of pearlescent precum before swirling your tongue over the sensitive surface. Doflamingo choked on a soft gasp, snapping out of his hypnosis to clap his hand over Sanji's lips as he bottomed out into your gummy walls. The younger blonde couldn't help but moan, the larger hand stifling the majority of it to silence him with a frown.

“Listen, Vinsmoke. I know she feels-... f-fuck…” Doflamingo started, halting as he felt you take more of him into your lips. “...Fuck, mi amor, you take me so well,” he whispered his praise down at you before turning back his attention to Sanji, “You need to keep quiet. Need I remind you, Trafalgar and Eustass are sleeping in front of you? You want to wake them up by whining like a stag in rutt?”

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Sanji snapped his eyes over at Doflamingo, glaring up at him through his lengthy blonde eyelashes. Instead of biting back or insulting the larger blonde, Sanji couldn't help but roll his eyes in his skull as you began to bob on his cock. Simply unable to control his moans, Doflamingo shook his head at Sanji before huffing out in agitation while plunging his middle and index fingers into the younger blonde's mouth.

An accusatory glare first flew from Sanji to Doflamingo before Sanji used the older man’s fingers as a gag to muffle his whimpers into it. Gently bobbing your ass up and down over Sanji’s lap, the Frenchman's hands grabbed needily at your hips and ass as he bucked up to match your quickened pace. With fistfuls of your ass clutched into his greedy hands, Sanji bounced you with eager and desperate thrusts as he began to chase his high with you on his lap.

Doflamingo arched his brow high at the young Vinsmoke boy, noticing how well he was licking and sucking around his fingers before his attention immediately snapped down to you. Circling your hand at the base of his cock, your fingers expertly began to massage his heavy balls while gently bobbing and sucking his large cock. Flattening your tongue over his frenulum, your saliva pooled from your lips and began to drip down onto his shaft and the chasm between his balls. Using the added lubrication, you kneaded and fisted at the length you couldn't take in your mouth, while drawing up your lips over his cock.

Meeting your eyes with Doflamingo's, you smiled at him while removing your mouth from his cock and using your tongue to rake over him. Doflamingo’s breath shuddered, his nipples hardening beneath the open shirt as he shielded as much of himself as he could from the slumbering Nico Robin and the flight attendants.

“Oh, fuck. Look at you making me blush. Just like that, senorita,” he reached down with his unoccupied hand and cradled and caressed your cheek. Guiding your lips back down to cover his tip and swallow his cock, he began slowly rocking his hips up to meet your pace.

Sanji's thrusts were getting erratic, his rapidly approaching orgasm bound it's way tightly in his stomach. He could barely take the amount of pleasure coursing through his veins. The added suspense of getting caught had his nerves shot and heart skittish, but the sound of your drooling cunt taking his cock so well drowned out any hindrances. He snapped his eyes open, looking panicked at Doflamingo as he felt his balls suck into his stomach, the pucker of his ass warning him that he was nearly past the point of pulling out.

Doflamingo arched his brow at the young man, slowly leaning down to you and whispering, “I think Sanji wants to cum, pretty thing. Can he cum in that beautiful pussy of yours?” Making eye contact with Doflamingo, you nodded while speeding up your bobbing and sucking over the larger man’s throbbing hardness. Giving you a soft wink, Doflamingo sighed out to Sanji.

“If you need to cum, cum, pequeño. But you make sure she does too, you hear me?” Doflamingo pressed his fingers down on Sanji’s tongue to serve as a soft punishment and warning, Sanji gagging over his fingers while chasing his high faster. Nodding, Sanji reached one of his hands down to find your clit and began teasing it with his middle finger. With the added hooking motion of Sanji’s beckoning fingers, you felt yourself whimper on Doflamingo’s cock as he zeroed in on your pleasure.

Gripping the back of your neck, Doflamingo began rocking himself more firmly into your mouth and feeling his own approach tease at the corner of his mind. Soft gasps fell from his lips when he felt you focus more on his cock rather than Sanji's, the blonde behind you using his hands to both lift you and tease at your clit while he fucked you on his lap.

A strangled groan muffled itself onto Doflamingo's hands while Sanji's ecstacy spurted from his cock in pretty ribbons of translucent white. Painting your insides the pearlescent color of his bliss, Sanji bit on Doflamingo’s hand to stifle more of his keening moans. Doflamingo hissed at the pain before his jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back and whispering curses in Spanish under his breath. Without warning, his cum spilled itself in hot waves over your tongue and down your throat. Swallowing through hollowed cheeks, you took his entire release down your throat, which caused Doflamingo to double down in softly singing to your praises.

At the arrival of both of the blonde men’s cum, your walls contracted and milked Sanji's cock of the final waves of his bliss. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave made to capsize a ship, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you buried your throat beneath the girth of Doflamingo’s cock to stifle your cries of pleasure. Doflamingo rode your face through overstimulation, grinding his fingers in and out of Sanji’s mouth while Sanji’s eyes weeped through the intensity of his ecstasy.

“G-Good, mi amor. So good, look at you. F-Fuck, just like that, senorita,” Doflamingo praised you beneath his breath. “F-Fuck, you're such a pretty fuck. So beautiful, baby.” You continued to ride through the waves of your orgasm as Sanji spat Doflamingo's fingers from his mouth to double over and slump over onto your back.

Tilting his head to the side and gazing from the corner of his eyes at the seat in front of him, a shift in movement caught his immediate attention. The rise and fall of an arm over their front, a soft bitten back moan clenched and stifled by the clamp of their teeth, the redheaded Eustass Kid couldn't help but spill his own orgasm into a pre-opened tissue in hot spurts at the knowledge of what was happening behind him.

Only glimpsing over for a moment, and seeing Doflamingo's hand dip beneath the waistband of your pants, was all Captain Kid needed to see before his own hand began to fish out his cock in front of the sleeping Trafalgar Law. Setting up a mirror to witness the situation behind him was easy enough, and rocking his hips to the rhythm you set fucking Sanji was enough to have his eyes darken and jaw shudder. Leaning forward after Kid scrunched up the paper, Doflamingo tapped at his shoulder to bring his attention around.

“Got any spare tissue paper, red head?” Eustass Kid froze in his seat, “I don't particularly want to wake the attendants, and it's the least you could do for enjoying the show.”

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sailorrhansol · 6 months ago

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Blood & Popcorn | l.c (m)

❀ Pairing: Lee Chan x f. Reader

❀ Summary: Fridays are reserved for watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stuffing your face with popcorn and pizza. It’s been like that for you and Chan since your freshman year of college. But when he skips your Blood and Popcorn night for a date, things take an unexpected turn.

❀ Word Count: 11,315

❀ Genre: Friends to Lovers, Angst, Fluff

❀ Type: Smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Literally so much misunderstanding and repressed feelings, pining, light themes of jealousy, recreational drinking, recreational weed use, bad communication skills, some mild insecurities, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex (do not do this lmaooo), nipple stim, light teasing, oral (f. receiving), clumsy/playful sex, jokes/banter while fucking. They’re both down horrendous. Joshua as an almost love interest. Jeonghan is both terrible and great at advice. Alternating POVs and some time skips.

❀ A/N: This is another work coming from a conversation with @daechwitatamic who at this point, I think had been the driving force behind all three random one shots I’ve written. I apparently can’t say no when she asks for something :) so anyway, here is simp Lee Chan and simp reader because ???? And yes I'm posting this at 11:30 pm at night who cares there are no rules!!!!!!!!

❀ A/N 2: Also thank you to Jo for reading this before hand because it would be otherwise largely illegible. King Julian is on the way, bestie.

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Read Next: Still Watching?

“So why not Blood and Pizza if pizza is always involved but popcorn isn’t?” Mingyu eyes the french fries on your plate. You give him a warning glance, pointing the sharp tines of your fork at him. He retreats, leaning against the cracked vinyl of the booth, pouting. “Also, the title sounds gross.”

“Good thing it has nothing to do with you then.”

“Wow, you’re not even going to invite me?”

“No,” you chirp, popping a shoestring fry into your mouth. You savor the saltiness, humming delightedly. “It’s for me and Chan. Not me, Chan and you. Plus, you know nothing about Buffy.”

“Isn’t that a magic dragon? And are you sure you two aren’t dating?”

The look you send Mingyu makes him hold up his hands in surrender. It isn’t the first time someone has asked if you and Chan are dating, and you know it won’t be the last. You don’t want to start down that avenue tonight, trying to navigate the questions of why and well you seem to be a good match.

If romantic relationships were started over simply having things in common and matching a vibe, you and Chan would have started dating a long time ago. But you’re not, and you’ve already gotten over the fact that you’re not dating and that you will not start dating.

Mostly.

The bell rings above the diner door, drawing your attention. Like he’s been manifested by Mingyu’s dangerous question, Chan spots you and lifts a hand, a smile splitting his face as he heads over. You scoot over in the booth, dragging your plate along with you to make room for him.

Chan is dressed in jeans and a green sweater, your favorite color on him. He sits down next to you, cushioned seat dipping a little as he leans over to kiss the top of your head and steal fries off of your plate. You let him, feeling heat flush up the side of your neck as you look anywhere but Mingyu’s accusatory stare.

“These are so good,” Chan says around a mouthful of fries. “Thanks, Bambi.”

You grin at the nickname, trying not to flush too hard.

“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu says pointedly. You ignore him, shoving your burger in your mouth. “Apparently I’m not allowed fries or to attend your movie night.”

“Order your own fries,” Chan says.

“Ugh. I already ate mine.”

“So order more, idiot. And of course you’re not invited to Blood and Popcorn. That’s our thing.”

Our thing.

The corner of your mouth twitches as you glance at Chan. He doesn’t notice, catching the eyes of the server and waving happily, giving her a broad smile. She gives him a thumbs up in return, confirming she’ll put in his usual now that he’s there.

There are a lot of things that belong to you and Chan. Studying at the very diner you were sitting in during freshman year had been one of them, though now in your final year there’s not as much of a need to study and you’ve incorporated other friends in your late night trips for grease and calories.

You also shared trivia nights on Tuesdays with Vernon and Seungkwan, football Sundays with Seungcheol, Mingyu and Jeonghan, once a month family dinners with everyone, and most importantly, Blood and Popcorn.

Chan steals another fry off of your plate and you let him, leaning back in the booth. Mingyu glares daggers at you, dark eyes flicking from your plate, to you, to Chan. You grin around a mouthful of cheeseburger and he scoffs before looking away.

Behind you, Chan’s arm stretches across the back of the booth, just barely brushing against the top of your shoulders. Your stomach flips a little, momentarily elated at the contact before you swallow it down with Sprite, pretending it wasn’t there in the first place.

The two boys immediately fall into a conversation about their shared engineering class. You tune it out easily, a learned habit over the last four years of having to listen to Chan tell you the functions of a bridge and the best way to design one. Instead, you focus on the rise and fall of Chan’s soft voice and the way it lulls you into a state of calm.

When the server brings over his order, he pulls his arm from over the back of the seat. Immediately you snatch one of the onion rings from his basket, popping one into your mouth and hissing as the crispy snack burns you. He shakes his head, laughing as he gives you a napkin while you sputter.

“Careful, Bambi,” he murmurs. “They’re literally steaming.”

Mingyu reaches for an onion ring, only to be threatened with the blunt end of Chan’s steak knife. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But she-”

“Bambi has special privileges,” Chan quips. “Order yourself some more fries for the love of God. I’ll pay for them.”

Mingyu immediately stops whining, mood improving markedly as he orders fries, wiggling in his seat happily. Chan cuts his burger in half, asking, “Why were you talking about Blood and Popcorn anyway?”

“Shua asked Bambi out on a date,” Mingyu answers around a mouthful of fries. “She told him she couldn’t go because of Blood and Popcorn.”

Chan stops eating and looks at you, brows creasing. You feel your heart rate speed up as you kick Mingyu under the table. He yelps, knee jerking upward to slam against the underside of the table. The salt and pepper shakers rattle in place as Mingyu bends over to rub his shin.

“He didn’t ask me out on a date.”

“He asked you to dinner!”

“As friends!”

“Oh yeah,” Mingyu snorts, rolling his eyes. “Friends take friends to fucking prime steakhouses. He asked you out on a date.”

For a moment, silence envelops the table. You stare at your fries, watching Chan out of your periphery. He looks away from you, wiping the grease from his fingers onto the napkin. The air feels pregnant with tension suddenly, your anxiety bubbling as you open your mouth to assert once more it wasn’t a date.

Chan beats you to breaking the silence, “We can skip this Friday so you can go!”

You open and close your mouth a few times, heart dropping to your ass. “What?”

“It’s totally fine if we have to skip. I don’t mind.”

Chan picks his burger back up, not looking at you. Heart pounding in your chest, you can’t help but watch him in total silence, trying to string together a response. Sure, maybe Chan doesn’t mind if you miss your weekly solo hangout. But you care.

The ache of the implication cuts you suddenly, a delayed reaction. You feel your throat tighten painfully, reaching for your Sprite to try and swallow past the sudden tension. It does nothing to quell the way the casual dismissal of your tradition keeps cutting you long after he’s said the words, sawing down to the bone.

“I wasn’t aware that we could just skip Blood and Popcorn, I guess.”

“I mean if you’ve got a date.”

That’s not the point, you want to scream at him.

Chan is a lot of things. Perceptive isn’t one of them. If he had been, you know he would have sniffed out your feelings for him a long time ago. Luckily for you, he’s remained completely oblivious over the last four years of your friendship, and you like to keep it that way. Keep it safe.

Nothing ruins a friendship more than unrequited romance. You know that from more than just the media you consume - you’ve seen more than once first hand when one friend catches feelings for the others but the desire isn’t mutual.

It isn’t mutual here. It’s always been very clear where Chan’s interests lie, and you’re totally fine with that. You accept the relationship that you have happily and quietly, and thought moments like are a brutal reminder of where you stand, it’s alright because you also love your friendship. More than you love him - at least, you think so.

So when Chan so easily suggests to go on a date, to cancel your thing with him to accommodate, you know it isn’t because he doesn’t care. He just thinks that you should go on a date because it doesn’t occur to him that the real reason you don’t want to is because your interests are somewhere else. That you don’t want to cancel Blood and Popcorn because it’s for the two of you and no one else.

“Yeah,” you rasp, unsure what else to say. “Um, maybe.”

“Shua is a good guy.”

“Yeah. Yeah he is.”

Mingyu and Chan go back to their conversation about class. You finish your meal in silence, leaning back against the seat as your thoughts wander listlessly. You gaze around the diner, drinking in detail as their conversation becomes background noise and you can no longer understand what they’re saying.

Rounders Diner had been a staple in the college community long before you were born, and continues to be the center for academic life. Students fill the booths sipping on milkshakes as they cram for exams or homework, night shift workers sit at the countertop and order coffee before heading to work, and the jukebox in the corner glows neon, only offering a selection of music from the 50s.

Behind the countertop is an open scratch kitchen, the sound of sizzling grease and yelled orders bracketing an Elvis song you know the words to but don’t know the name of. Black and white tile flooring with years worth of scuffs reflect the canned lighting in the ceiling. Over near the entrance is a wall covered in pictures of students of note throughout the years.

You remember the first time Chan had hauled you to Rounders. It was the first day you’d met, two freshmen absolutely terrified of the world after experiencing two back to back intro courses together. The dining hall was on the opposite side of campus from your classes, but Chan had insisted there was a diner just off the corner that everyone said was a necessary experience.

He was the first real friend you made. Your roommates had become your best friends too, Lorna and Mai splashed across almost every memory you have of college. But that first day is only colored with Chan, who had slid into the seat across from you and looked around the diner with a bright grin like he was suddenly at home.

Wanna start coming here after class?

You did. And you had.

A hand waves in front of your face, making you blink several times before Chan’s face swims into focus. Your thoughts are a little delayed as you drink him in: dark hair framing dark, angular eyes that turn molten brown when the sun hits them just right, a jawline that has turned sharper as he’s aged, though his cheeks still have a youthful softness that you adore, and a grin that makes the world dim.

“What?” you ask him, totally at a loss for words.

He laughs and you feel the corners of your lips turn upward, an automatic response to his mirth. “I asked if you were ready to go.”

You look up to see Mingyu at the register, passing over the bill and a card. “I think I spaced out. I thought you were buying him fries?”

He snorts. “Never fear, it’s my card. Everything okay?”

You hesitate. Not for the first time, the urge to spill your guts to him grips you so forcefully that you almost do right in the middle of Rounders. Almost tell him everything from start to finish, the feelings, the reason you don’t want to date Joshua, how beautiful you think Chan is-

Mingyu starts heading back and you force a grin on your face, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Of course. A little tired, though. Thanks for dinner.”

“You know I’ve got you.” He gets up from the booth and holds his hand out to you. “Always.”

Chan is the stupidest fucking person he knows. He lets out a loud scream into the warmth of his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut as he lays face down in his bed. His arms are shoved under the pillow, fisting in his sheets as the long-winded scream finally begins to die out.

“Yes, that is healthy,” Seungkwan calls from Chan’s desk against the window. “Let the pillow know everything that you’re feeling.”

Scowling, Chan lifts his head up and looks over his shoulder at where Seungkwan is sitting. His roommate is hunched over Chan’s laptop, a document open on the screen as he clicks around rapidly, cursing under his breath.

“Why are you in here again?”

“My literature professor is a dinosaur,” Seungkwan answers. “And only accepts printed essay submissions.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean you don’t have your own printer?”

“No, and I will not be paying thirty cents a paper for an essay that is almost thirty pages long.”

“That’s like, nine dollars dude. Also, why is your essay thirty pages long?”

“Ask the dude who wrote Beowulf.”

“Isn’t that like… a movie?”

Seungkwan mutters something under his breath. The printer chimes, followed by a mechanic whirring as the paper feeds into the machine and starts printing. Spinning in the chair, Seungkwan looks at where Chan is still laying stomach down, face squished against his pillow as he cradles it.

“Speaking of movies - are you having Blood and Popcorn here or at Bambi’s?”

Chan can’t help but smirk at the nickname. It had stuck ever since your freshman year when you’d called Rin Hartford a bambi-eyed bitch for saying nasty things to Mingyu. He thinks that night might be the night he realized he was absolutely head over heels for you, even if he had only known you for two weeks then.

Despite your quiet disposition, you’ve always been the epitome of bravery. He can’t recall a time that you haven’t said what you meant or meant what you said, and defending your friends and speaking up has always been paramount to you.

For someone like Chan who was often the youngest and the softest spoken in any group he was in, you were a breath of fresh air. And you’ve taught him to speak up for himself, letting him grow comfortable pushing back with people - especially his friends - and how to give back what he gets.

Corrupted, Seungcheol joked once. She corrupted him and taught him how to bully us back.

“I’m not really sure,” Chan says slowly, thinking about your conversation at the diner, the exact source of his pillow-scream. “We might not be doing it.”

“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“There is no paradise. We’re just friends.”

“That’s the trouble I’m talking about, brother.” Seungkwan turns around to start collecting the pages out of the printer. “Is the Blood and Popcorn cancellation the reason for your pillow screaming?”

“I don’t know that it’s canceled.”

“That really clarifies the issue.”

Chan scowls. “Did you know Shua was into her?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“He asked her on a date.”

“Joshua must have got tired of waiting for you to make a move on Bambi. I guess he decided you weren’t going to.”

Chan frowns and sits up. He didn’t realize Joshua remotely had a thing for you, and while Chan adores the older member of their larger friend group, the thought of him taking you to dinner - a date - makes his stomach tighten.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Seungkwan clarifies. “That you have had the last four years to nut up or shut up. Everyone has waited for you to make your move on Bambi and you haven’t. If you’re not going to do it, someone else might as well.”

“I mean, anyone could ask her out. It’s not like I have-”

“Don’t you dare say you didn’t have dibs. Dibs can be unspoken, Chan. You’ve been in love with that girl since freshman year, if you think people - especially our friends - cannot tell and don’t respect you enough to give you time to ask her out, you need to wake up.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Not to her, clearly.” Seungkwan stands and grins at Chan placidly, his essay collected in his hands. “Fortunately for you, the only person who is as dumb as you are is Bambi. Match made in heaven, really.”

Chan chews his bottom lip. That offers a little bit of relief. He doesn’t like knowing that his feelings are so obvious to everyone else, but at least you don’t know. He cannot imagine how uncomfortable it would make your friendship dynamic knowing he was mooning over you while you just saw him as a friend.

“Well, she doesn’t feel that way about me. I’m not going to confess my unrequited feelings and put her in that position to deal with them. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Seungkwan gives Chan a slow blink, smile turning plastic. “Like I said. Match made in heaven.”

Heaving a sigh, Chan throws himself on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Chan was certainly an idiot for a lot of reasons, but the biggest reason has to be the way he has let his feelings for you fester since freshman year. Instead of implementing preventative maintenance, he’s let the problem grow to the point that his friends are no longer waiting for him to do something about it.

The window of opportunity is gone.

Not that there was a window of opportunity to begin with. Chan has seen what it looks like when you’re interested in guys - dazed eyes, a little flustered, a tiny grin on your face. You’ve never looked at him that way. At least, not really like that. You smile at him all the time, but it’s different.

If he had the slightest indication you looked at him like you were interested, he’d have spilled his feelings a long time ago. Hiding this from you feels almost like a violation of friendship, but in order to preserve the friendship and keep you comfortable, he does what he must.

The memory of him telling you to go on a date with Joshua makes him groan in embarrassment. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars explode behind his lids. It had been a knee jerk response, something to distract you from the immediate jealousy and panic he’d felt that moment that Mingyu had dropped that bit of information at the table.

Mingyu. That motherfucker did it on purpose - not to rile Chan, but to try and give him a kick in the ass toward the right direction. But like everyone else, Mingyu doesn’t get it. If Chan told you how he felt just to get it off of his chest, it would be putting his burden on you. You’d be the one who had to feel guilty for it being unrequited, you’d be the one who would inevitably feel uncomfortable or out of place.

No. It would be the highest form of selfishness he can think of, offloading the heavy weight of his feelings just to give them to you as a reprieve from carrying them around so long.

Chan blinks away the swimming colors, staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom again. He can hear Seungkwan singing somewhere in the apartment, liquid voice calming even in Chan’s mild state of distress.

Joshua is a good guy. Honestly, there are only a few guys that Chan knows who would make a suitable partner for you, and he begrudgingly acknowledges that Joshua is at the top of that list. And yet he still feels a twist of self-loathing that he had pushed you so quickly towards it, the regret like bile in his stomach.

The last thing Chan wants to do is skip Blood and Popcorn this week. It is the one guaranteed day of uninterrupted time with you, and he waved it away like it meant nothing to him, which could not be farther from the truth. The nights of watching Buffy and eating pizza and sometimes popcorn mean everything to him.

He just wishes he had been brave enough to stand his ground.

Maybe Joshua Hong is the worst person ever. Chan dismisses the irrational thought as soon as he has it. Joshua isn’t awful at all. It’s just that he’s leaning in toward you and saying something into your ear over the loud din of the party, and Chan watches the way you nod.

Crack. The plastic cup in his hand splits and immediately spills rum and coke all over the kitchen floor. Jeonghan starts yelling at him, ripping paper towels off of the roll and throwing them in Chan’s direction. He mutters an apology, gaze drifting over the kitchen counter to the living room where you’re laughing, head tilted back, warm light splaying across your throat-

“Ya! Don’t just let it pool at your feet!”

Jeonghan’s screech brings Chan back to life. He snatches the copious amounts of paper towels Jeonghan has thrown at him and starts to soak up the drink. The tile floor is already sticky and Chan cringes. No way have either Jeonghang or Seungcheol cleaned this floor any time recently. If anything, Chan has done it a favor.

The party is in full swing around him. He stands up with the soaked paper in his hand, tossing it into the trash and grabbing more while Jeonghan digs underneath the counter. Chan finishes soaking up the spilled drink and comes eye to eye with a new set of paper towels and spray cleaner.

Chan gives Jeonghan the soaked papers. “Jeonghan, your floor is already disgusting.”

“Then you should have no problem cleaning it!”

“Sure, Mom.”

“Don’t call me that!”

He rolls his eyes but does what Jeonghan says, spraying the area quickly and pressing down the paper towels. They come away sticky and black, making him cringe in disgust before tossing them out and washing his hands. As he turns off the faucet, Jeonghan has the decency to hand him a new drink.

Chan takes it without comment, the image of Joshua leaning into you a little too much for him to deal with right now. He drains the cup, sputtering a little. Jeonghan is a heavy pour and the spiced rum goes down rough, his eyes tearing just a little as he finishes the drink.

“Well, that’s one way to stop from spilling.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a look before reaching for the mixer and handle of rum again. “You do normally drink like a fish, but anything in particular driving tonight’s thirst?”

“Nope.”

“Right, so it’s not tall, dark and handsome hanging out with Bambi?”

Chan feels his eye twitch as he heavily pours the liquor into his cup. “Nope. And Joshua isn’t even that tall.”

“Taller than you.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a venomous look. His face is beatific, grin a little bit dangerous as he holds his hands up in a white flag. “You look pretty bothered. If only there were a way to fix that.” Chan looks at Jeonghan with wide eyes, hope surging for a moment. “Just tell her you like her.”

“Why is that the only advice any of you have?”

“Because it’s the only advice I have. Either tell her or get over your feelings. Those are your options.”

“And I’ve already told you, it would just make her uncomfortable. It’s not her burden to bear.”

Jeongan taps his fingers on the countertop, studying Chan. Chan pouts into his cup, taking long draughts, trying not to cringe at the strong taste. He can already sense the oncoming buzz and he welcomes it, needing a little something to distract him from the obvious elephant in the living room.

“Alright,” Jeognhan relents. “Then deal with the consequences and get over your feelings.”

And he will. Chan has always been good at dealing with the repercussions of hiding his feelings, and he does them well. So he tips back the cup and rejoins the party, nerves steeled and ready to deal with the consequences like his friends keep telling him to.

“What?” you asked, lifting your voice to be heard over the rowdy game of cards at the coffee table. Joshua had asked you something but the words had been lost on you as your gaze drifted to Chan where he was leaning against the wall, talking to a girl you didn’t know. He was leaning awfully close. “I didn’t catch that.”

Joshua smiles. He really is handsome, and everything someone could want in a partner. He’s kind and gentle, has a little bit of an insane streak, and he is incredibly intelligent and loyal. So why do you feel nothing when he grins at you or laughs?

Your eyes drift over to Chan again and you feel your stomach flip. The alcohol turns to lead. The girl Chan is speaking to is so close to him, both of them turned toward one another as he ducks his head down to say something to her. She laughs and he smiles, looking her up and down.

Jealousy swallows you whole. It roars so loudly in your ears that you almost miss Joshua’s question again. “Did you give any thoughts about dinner on Friday?”

Dinner? Friday? Oh right. He had asked you to dinner on Friday, but you’d declined due to your planned Blood and Popcorn night. With Chan. Who is flirting with the girl next to him, who is flirting back.

The jealousy feels like a raw, rotten thing. It turns the alcohol in your stomach sour, makes the sweat on the back of your neck feel too much, like the room is too loud and too full. Even as the envy rears its head, an ugly beast ready to unleash, you turn to Joshua and say, “I really can’t. Friday nights are really important to me.”

Joshua looks disappointed, but he’s polite enough to nod and smile. “I understand. Maybe a different night?”

“Um, maybe. Would you excuse me? I really need some air.”

You stand abruptly, starling the people next to you. The cup in your hand shakes a little and your throat constricts and oh god. You cannot cry in the middle of a party just because you’re a little buzzed and the boy you like is across the room with another girl.

“Do you want me to-”

“No!” You quip, shaking your head. “Totally fine, I’m so fine, I just need some air. Please! Sit! Stay!”

Joshua raises his eyebrows at your frantic commands and you give a laugh that is a little on the hysterical side as you step over the legs of people sitting on the floor and on the couch. Joshua calls after you as you make the escape but you don’t turn around, eager to get out of the room.

You trip over someone’s foot and nearly launch into a passerby as you go. Strong hands steady you before you totally topple over, though your drink sloshes over the edge of your cup, spilling it on the carpet.

“What is it with you and your other half?” You look up to realize that it’s Jeonghan who stabilized you. “Spilling drinks all over my damn floor!”

“It probably helps. Your floors are disgusting.”

“Ya! That’s beside the point - why do you look like you’re about to die?”

“I feel like I might. I need fresh air.” For a moment, Jeonghan looks confused. You watch his dark brows pull together and he looks over your head, dark gaze scanning for something. For Chan, you realize. It’s usually Chan who leaves with you if you need air or need to stick your head in a bucket to vomit. The realization hits you like a brick. “Not him,” you whisper. “I’m fine.”

Your words land at the same time Jeonghan focuses in the direction you’d last seen Chan. He holds you there, suspended in time for a moment as his eyes dart between you and back to where you know Chan is still leaning against the wall.

There is a flicker of something that you cannot place in Jeonghan’s gaze before it softens and he nods. He pulls you toward him and helps guide you around the groups of people. “Fresh air it is.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“I don’t know, crying alone is kind of lame, Bambi.”

Cool air hits you the second you step onto the porch. Soonyoung is sitting on the railing with Jihoon and Vernon leaning next to him. He waves enthusiastically when he sees you, breaking out into a grin and lifting the joint between his fingers, an offer. You shake your head and he shrugs, passing it to Vernon who lifts a hand in salute.

The smell of weed chases you down the grass slope of Jeonghan’s backyard. It’s not so much a backyard as it is open to the apartment community’s lake. The spray of the fountain grows louder as the sounds of the party fade.

Jeonghan sits down in the grass, leaning back on his hands. You join him, cringing at the dampness from the dewey grass. Taking in a deep breath you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting the wind cool the sweat on your overheated skin. The breeze mists the fountain, tiny specks of water tingling on your face as you sit in silence.

Behind your lids, you can see the image of Chan leaning in toward that girl. The intimacy of the space. You hate how you can recall it in such detail - you’d always been able to remember details where Chan was involved. Like the way he was wearing a black, long-sleeved tee that pulled against his chest and arms perfectly, or the way the necklace you bought him two years ago glinted in the light of the living room, or the way-

“I did it to myself, huh?” you ask, feeling the first tear collect on your lash line. You tilt your head upward, trying to blink it rapidly away. “I could have just told him a while ago.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re entirely responsible,” Jeonghan mutters. “Look, putting your heart on your sleeve is really scary, especially when it’s to someone you really value. But you have to decide what to do. You can either tell Chan you love him or you can decide to get over it. You can’t cling to unspoken feelings, though.”

“I just… I don't feel like he returns the feelings and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“Then get over him.” You snap your gaze at Jeonghan, who is looking at you with the cool and calm you wish you felt. “If you’re unwilling to be honest with him, then your option is to get over it.”

“Do you think he would… react poorly?”

“Of course not, but I will not speak to all of Chan’s feelings. Those are his to share, not mine, and I believe in the sanctity of acting on one’s own.”

“You sound so… saintly.”

“Dealing with all your problems has turned me into a saint. Do you know what it’s like being therapy to all of these damn people? You all take ‘door open’ a little too seriously.”

You laugh, feeling a little lighter. Pulling at the grass, you sigh. “You’re right, though. I either need to just tell him or let it go. I can’t just… suffer.”

“If only you’d come to that conclusion a while ago.”

“Bleh.”

Fresh air and the weight of Jeonghan’s words weigh down on you. You know that he’s right. Though you’re confident that Chan doesn’t return your feelings, you don’t explicitly know because you’ve never asked. And if you never ask, you’ll never know.

Calm settles over you as you decide your course of action. Blood and Popcorn is in two days - you can bring it up then.

Nodding to yourself, you pluck more grass out of the ground. “Alright,” you tell Jeonghan, heaving a sigh. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Ugh, you two! Don’t call me that!”

Hands shaking, you stare at your phone. You’ve had two days to mentally prepare for this evening and yet when you look at your phone, you think two days was not remotely enough to prepare for this evening. You haven’t spoken to Chan at all about what time you want to have your weekly hangout, but that’s not unusual.

The only thing unusual is your hesitation to hit the call button and ask what time he wants to come over. It’s such a simple thing - you don’t need to confess your feelings to him right now. But the anticipation of what inviting him over means and the possible disaster it can bring makes your fingers shaky.

Instead of hitting dial, you take one deep breath and let it out slowly. In slowly again, and-

Your phone starts ringing before you can finish the exhale. Your heart pounds in your throat when you see Chan’s name flash across your screen. For a few seconds there is pure panic, but you manage to collect yourself and slide your thumb across the screen. It takes a few tries, your hands clammy with anxiety as you answer.

“Hi!”

“Don’t kill me,” Chan immediately says on the other side of the line. You pause, cocking your head.

“Why would I do that?”

“I have to raincheck on Blood and Popcorn tonight.”

“Oh no, are you sick? Do you need me to bring anything over? Is Seungkwan-”

Chan laughs on the other side of the phone and your stomach flutters helplessly. You hear the creak of bed springs and you know he’s sitting on his bed. He has the world’s creakiest bed. “I’m not sick.”

“Oh.”

You frown, sitting down on your couch and folding your legs. There’s nothing else you can think of that Chan would cancel Blood and Popcorn for, so illness had seemed like the first rational thing. You feel a little embarrassed at immediately trying to take care of him, but push it away to ask, “What’s up?”

“I have a date. Tonight is the only night she was available for like two weeks. She’s in her first year of law school so her availability sucks.”

It feels like the air vanishes from the room. You lean back against the backrest on the couch, deflated. You hold the phone to your ear, but don’t feel the weight of it in your hand. The TV across the living room becomes a blur, the muted program in the background unrecognizable.

A date. Chan has a date. That he’s willing to cancel your night for.

You think back to that night at the diner when he told you to just go out with Joshua instead of doing Blood and Popcorn. How easily he pushed it aside. Like it was unimportant. Easily missed.

“Bambi?” Chan’s voice sounds distant through the roar of your emotions. “You there? The cell service in your apartment is so shitty.”

“I’m here.”

“Oh good. Sorry to miss, please don’t kill me. We can add two days of Blood and Popcorn next week to make up for it?”

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah.”

There’s a pause. “Are you okay?”

“Definitely.” Lie. “Sorry, I just woke up from a nap and I’m a little spacy.” Lie. “No problems here. I’m not mad. Enjoy your date.” Lie.

“Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes after!”

“For sure.”

When Chan hangs up the phone, you think that Jeonghan was right. Crying alone is lame.

Chan can’t do this.

Sol isn’t the problem - at least not directly. She is beautiful and funny, sharp as a whip and has an edge to her that he loves in women. She is successful, has goals, and she’s sensible. And she’s into him, which is perhaps the biggest plus of all.

But she isn’t you. Sol’s biggest problem is that she’s not you, and it’s not really her problem at all. It is Chan’s and Chan’s alone, and he cannot sit through this date anymore. He’s tried for the last hour already, asking all of the right questions and laughing at all the right places, but he cannot stop the way he wonders if you’re watching buffy. He cannot help but wonder if you’re in those expensive pajamas you like, drinking inexpensive wine from the corner story, his favorite contrast.

Chan cannot stop thinking that his button up is a little too tight on his chest and the uncomfortable way his new shoes rub his ankle. He’d rather be in a tee and shorts, freshly showered and stretched out. He cannot stop blinking his eyes, hating the way one of his contacts is irritating him, wishing instead to be in glasses and the lowlight of your apartment.

From the moment he ended that call with you to cancel Blood and Popcorn, all he’s felt is dread. Dread for the upcoming date with someone he should be excited about, dread for telling you how it goes, dread for having to be in public with people and to get to know someone, dread at what happens at the end of the date, does he have to kiss her? Does he have to go get ice cream? What does he do-

“Are you okay?” Sol’s raspy voice draws him from his thoughts - not for the first time that night. She’s leaning back in her seat, dark eyes pinning him to the spot. She is as sharp as she is beautiful, and normally someone like Sol would make him trip over his feet. “You zoned out.”

“I apologize, that was rude of me.”

“It was,” she agrees. She swirls the wine in her glass, looking him up and down before giving him a sympathetic smile. “I won’t be offended if you want to call this off early.”

“What?”

“You’re not interested,” she asserts. Confident. Self-assured. “It’s totally okay if it’s not working for you.”

Heat crawls up the side of Chan’s neck. He runs his sweaty palms over his slacks. “I am so sorry,” he says earnestly. “This sounds so stupid to say, but it is me, it isn’t you.”

“No offense, but I know. You’ve been distracted since we got here. You obviously have something or someone else on your mind.”

“That easy to read, huh?”

“Open book. I have some pride, though. Let’s pay the bill?”

“I’m sorry.”

Her grin is polite. Understanding. “Don’t be. You’re cute and nice, but I cannot suffer knowing your mind isn’t on me.”

“Understandable.”

Chan knows he’s lucky. Anyone else a little less level-headed or less confident might have made him suffer. As it is, Sol does let him suffer a little, sliding the bill over to him with a knowing grin. He likes Sol - not like he likes you, but she’s good people.

“Promise me one thing?” Sol asks before ducking into her Uber. “It’ll help my pride.”

“Sure.”

“Go spend the rest of the evening with whoever it is and make sure you tell them how you feel. It’ll be worth it, that way.”

Chan grins. “Alright. I promise.”

And he does intend to hold to that promise. Something about tonight is different. He can feel it as he walks quickly to his car, undoing the top button of his shirt as he goes. The air is crisp and there are still a few streaks of orange in the night sky, the sun long gone.

Chan calls you as he turns his car onto the road, heading toward your apartment on the northside of down. He drums his fingers along the steering wheel, buzzing with nervous and excited energy as the line rings. When you don’t pick up, he ends the call.

Jeonghan was right - he usually is. Chan could either tell you how he feels or live with the consequences, and he’s decided he cannot live with the consequences. He cannot sit across the table from someone who isn’t you and pretend that he isn’t wondering what you’re doing. He cannot look at the curve of someone else’s mouth and wonder what it would be like if it were yours.

The date had been spurred by the intense wave of jealousy and inadequacy he felt at Jeonghan’s party when he saw you sitting on the couch with Joshua. He has no idea how else he would have had the confidence to start chatting up someone as commanding as Sol, but he was powered by rum and a wounded heart.

Stupid. It was stupid, he realizes now. He has been stupid so many times regarding you and for long enough that even Joshua, the most polite of his friends, felt like they could respectfully intercept you, now.

Well, perhaps you will choose Joshua instead. Chan is fine with that. What you want has always been paramount to him. But if you choose Joshua, it will be with the knowledge that Chan loves you and he always has.

Steeling himself, he gets out of the car at your apartment complex and looks up at the building. He can see the lights on in your living room, confirming you’re still home and probably watching Buffy. The thought sends a thrill through him and he smiles, shaking his head and taking a deep breath.

“You’ve got this, Lee Chan,” he tells himself. “You’ve got this.”

A loud knock on your door startles you. You finish blowing your nose in the issue, trying to suck up the rest of your tears. Pulling the sleeves of your sweater - Chan’s sweater - over your hands, you wipe your face with sweater paws, trying to erase some evidence of your tears before having to face the delivery person.

Grabbing the bills on the counter, you wonder how many people delivering food have seen people answer the door while crying or immediately after crying. Honestly, they’ve probably seen all types of strange situations, which makes you feel a little bit about answering the door after very clearly sobbing.

Unlatching the top and flipping the deadbolt, you yank the door open, prepared to not make eye contact to make it a little less awkward for you and the person just trying to hand you pizza and soda, except-

“Chan?”

It is Chan standing outside of your door. You blink in surprise, giving him a quick once over. He looks really nice, dressed in slacks and a black button up shirt that is a little too tight across the chest - not that you’re complaining - and the top of the buttons undone to reveal the necklace you gifted him. His dark hair has styling product in it, pushing it out of his face, save for a small rebel strand that hangs over his eyebrow.

Chan looks… beautiful. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re in his sweatshirt and sweatpants, face swollen from crying, nose a little snotty and looking worse for wear.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why are you crying?”

Chan pushes his way into your apartment and you let him, dropping your arm as he passes by. He shuts the door for you, flipping the latch and lock out of habit as he turns to you. He reaches out to grab you by the shoulders but you back up a little, suddenly terrified of his touch.

He notices. “Why are you crying?” he asks again, dark brows knitted and mouth twisted in a frown. “Talk to me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

“Left early, wasn’t working. What’s going on?”

You swallow thickly, realizing you’re at a crossroads. Silence stretches between you as he waits for your answer, looking at you with so much concern that you begin to crack. The tension in your throat returns, the telltale sign of tears and you ball your fists, nails digging into your palms.

A torrent of feelings bombard you. Anger. Hurt. Desire. Relief. Hurt again.

“You canceled Blood and Popcorn.”

Chan opens and closes his mouth, head cocking to the side a little bit. He looks mystified, trying to put together the pieces to the puzzle. “I don’t understand.”

“You canceled Blood and Popcorn for something else. For someone else.”

“I-”

A series of emotions flit over his face. You feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you watch each one, trying to catch them as they go. Confusion. Thoughtfulness. Confusion. Realization. You watch as he drinks you in, the tears, the wet stains from crying on the shirt, your words. Slowly, Chan puts the pieces together for the entire picture, and his face becomes so soft that you nearly cringe.

“Oh, Bambi.”

“You can date whoever you want, you’re not mine,” you punch out, wiping a tear as it escapes your eye. Feeling small, you back away from him a little, breaking eye contact. “But it hurts when you shove me aside like that. Look, I know we’re friends, but-”

“Bambi,” he says gently. You’re not looking at him, but you know that tone. The pleading. He’s begging you to stop, you think, but if you don’t get this out now you never will.

“Blood and Popcorn is important to me. You’re important to me. I know you’ve never seen me as more than a friend, but Chan-”

Chan interrupts you again. This time though, it’s by crashing against you. You nearly topple over onto the coffee table with the force of it, but you cling to him, digging your hands into the meat of his biceps to hold yourself to him. His hands press into the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity to you that you can’t pay any attention to, because Chan presses his mouth against yours softly, stealing all of your thoughts.

For a second, your brain goes static. You’re so stunned you don’t do anything but cling to him, vacantly aware that the softness of his lips are on yours. Tentative. Questioning.

Chan pulls away and your eyes flutter open. He is only an inch away from your face, his minty breath fanning your lips as he begins to apologize, panic on his face. You interrupt him this time, surging forward to crash your lips to his, far less gentle than he had been the first time.

The box you’ve shoved every feeling for Chan cracks open. You feel everything pour out of it, a steady stream of want as you press into him. He smells like teakwood and mint, hypnotizing you. His mouth is soft and eager, sucking gently against your bottom lip.

Everything feels lighter, like gravity has lost all meaning. Chan pulls away from your mouth a little, close enough to brush your lips against his in a feather-light kiss, but enough to gaze down at you through half lidded eyes.

“The date didn’t work out because I kept thinking of you,” he whispers, voice shaking. You feel your breath stop as he speaks, each word sinking in. “It was stupid to ask her out. I was feeling insecure about Joshua asking you out, and it was stupid and petty-”

You kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss, letting you lead him, slow and lazy. You feel his tongue brush against the seam of your lips and you eagerly let him in, toes curling as he licks into your mouth.

“I just want you,” Chan admits, breaking away for a quick breath of air. He presses his lips against the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your cheek. He peppers your face in them as his hands skate up your back, hot even through the material of his sweatshirt. “I have for so long and I’ve been so afraid to tell you.”

“I was afraid too.”

“I have wasted so much time.” His hands cradle your face, turning you to look at him.

Chan is so earnest. Raw honestly glitters in his eyes. Deeper, hiding beneath the surface is something a little darker and more intense. Want. Desire. Something that lingers, waiting for you to call it forward. You love him so much that in that moment you almost cry more, feeling overwhelmed with everything you’ve buried down for years.

“I want to make up for it,” you whisper, stealing a kiss that is more teeth than anything. He makes a noise in the back of his throat. Your hands sink to his waist, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. “I was actually going to tell you tonight, before you canceled.”

“What a stupid man I am.”

You smirk a little. “Yes.”

“Let me apologize,” he murmurs, voice low. You feel yourself shiver as he pushes you toward your room, connecting your mouths again. The kiss is messy and needy, so different than the one moments before. You tangle together, stumbling toward your room. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh?”

The crash landing onto your mattress is not graceful. Chan’s full weight falls on top of you and your foreheads smack a little. You yelp in paint and Chan groans, burying his face in your neck. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles to the surface, exploding out of you as your hands press flat on his back, soothing as you hold him to you.

“First step of apologizing,” you wheeze under him. “Give her a concussion.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, burying his face further in embarrassment. “I’m a little eager.”

His breath tickles your neck, making you squirm under him. He seems to notice, opting to press open-mouthed kisses against your throat. You hum, eyelids fluttering at the stimulation. “It’s okay,” you breathe, fingers turning to claws against his back. “It’s cute.”

Chan leans off of you, properly supporting himself with arms on either side of your head, caging you in. His knee slots between your legs, making your stomach leap in excitement as he scoots it up a little, almost pressing against you.

“You’re cute,” he notes, kisses getting messy as they go up your neck toward your ear. He nips your ear and you let out a sound. His laughter is warm against you and you shiver. “You’re in my clothes.”

“I wear them all the time.”

He groans. “I know. Fuck I know.”

“Is that what does it for you?” You move your hands from his back to his waist, pulling the tucked shirt from the waistband of his slacks. His hips twitch forward, excited. He busies his mouth with pressing wet kisses to your jaw. “Me in your clothes?”

“Everything does it for me. I am down horrendous for you.”

“I really didn’t know.”

He moves a hand to pull at the collar of his sweatshirt, exposing more of your collarbones to him as he kisses. “Everyone else did,” he assures you. You hiss when he bites down and licks over the sting, looking up through dark lashes to gauge your reaction. You nod a little and he grins, doing it again. “Biting. Got it.”

With trembling fingers, you work the buttons on his shirt. You steal touches as you go, greedy for him. Too long have you hidden what you want in the shadows, too long have you resisted this. Now, you take.

You brush your fingers against the flexing muscle of his stomach as you pull at the shirt, making him moan deep in his throat. His skin is like fire as you brush your fingers across its warmth, shoving his shirt off. He leans up, letting it fall from his shoulders, rippling to the ground.

The light from your hall glows behind Chan, haloing him in golden light. Your breath catches in your chest as your fingers press to his skin, brush over his shoulders and chest, down his stomach. You feel him twitch beneath your hands but he lets you explore, breathing hard under your reverence.

Golden boy, so full of fire. It’s all you can think of as you stare up at him, equal parts light and dark in your bedroom. Your hands drop to his belt and you tug him to you, desperate for him.

“Kiss me,” you beg.

He does. His mouth is greedy, stealing your breath. A thrill shoots through you when he slides his knee up higher, pressing it between your legs. You breath the kiss to gasp at the barest amount of pressure and Chan grins, watching your reaction through a heavy gaze.

“Take this off for me,” he asks, voice raspy. He pulls at the hem of his sweatshirt on your frame. “Please.”

You lean up, pressing your mouth to his collarbone in a sweet kiss as you pull the shirt over your head. He helps you, tossing it somewhere else. His hands go to your sides, fingers tracing up your curves as he pushes you back down, claiming your mouth again.

It feels like you might go crazy. Your bare chest presses against his, the friction turning your blood to liquid fire. His knee is firm between your legs, and when his hand slips to your waist, squeezing you and urging you to roll your hips you can’t help but let out a moan in the shape of his name, helpless.

“Fuck,” he swears, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he helps you move against his thigh. “If you say my name like that again I might bust in my fucking pants.”

“Chan.”

“Don’t,” he laughs, biting your shoulder. “I want this so bad.”

“I want you.”

“I might pass out due to sheer joy.”

“I have some ideas on how to revive you.”

He lets out a swear and you laugh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Maybe.”

Truth is, you think he might be the death of you. You’d die happily in his arms, completely swept up in the feeling of Chan’s tongue as it skates across your skin and up the swell of your breast. When he pauses, you look down at him. He smirks, happy to have your attention before he flicks his tongue lightly over the peak of your nipple.

You squeeze your legs around his thigh, back bowing off the bed. He lets out a chuckle, repeating the flicking motion as he watches you with dark, satisfied eyes. It drives you insane, the way he watches you with equal parts reverence and determination to find out what makes you squirm.

Chan is a fast learner. His teeth scrape against your nipple and you whine, thrashing under him as he teases you, pulling gently. The sting feels so good, making you melt into the mattress underneath him. He makes a sound of appreciation, sucking gently and sending you to the moon before trailing his mouth toward your other breast.

The hand on your hip squeezes you, reminding you why it had been there in the first place. “Keep going.” His breath fans against your skin and you tremble. “I like seeing you worked up.”

“God,” you whisper, trying to roll your hips against his leg again. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and as he sucks greedily at your chest you feel like you might rip at the seams. “Who knew you were so… this.”

You feel his wet grin against you, tongue flicking against your pert nipple. Your head falls to the side as you pant, trying to catch your fucking breath.

Of course he can reduce you to nothing so easily. No one knows you better than Chan, the two of you like twin flames. Every touch of his tongue, every press of his fingers into your skin, every breath of your name on his lips were made to unravel you because it’s Chan. Your Chan.

Your Chan who gently pulls the sweatpants from your hips, groaning low and slow when he sees the way your panties stick to your folds. Your Chan who kisses and bites the softness of your thighs, breath ghosting across sensitive flesh, fingers prying your legs apart when they start to twitch shut.

You’d always been made for him. To think otherwise was folly. You know that now, hand gripping his bones tight as he pulls your hands to the side, the cold air hitting your aching cunt. He lets you squeeze his hand, not caring that your gripping is bone-breaking.

“Hmm.” He looks up at you and you look down at him. His eyes are blown and he grins, shaking his head a little. “This for me?” You nod, your thoughts banging around the near empty space in your head as you do. “Fuck.”

And then his tongue presses against you, flat and warm and fuck fuck fuck. You can barely function as Chan drags his tongue slowly up your pussy, avoiding your clit entirely before dragging it back down. He makes a sound in his throat that sounds like a whine and you nearly lose it there, driven insane by him.

Chan takes the hand he has linked with yours and rests it on your hip, pressing into you to keep you still. You buck under his mouth and he laughs, unbothered as he looks up at you. The vision of him between your legs makes you dizzy, his hair mused, tongue pressed between your folds, eyes starving.

Your other hand grips his wrist where his opposite hand holds you open. You cling to him, thighs twitching as he licks you at his leisure. His mouth is a weapon, bringing you to the edge of insane easily. When he closes his lips around your clit and sucks gently, you fear you might break.

He can sense it too, setting himself to the task of pushing you over the edge. Chan learns you so quickly - maybe just knows you intuitively - alternating between circling his tongue around your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking on it gently.

“I am going to die,” you gasp between ragged breaths. “Your fucking mouth.”

“Yeah? Feels good?” The buzz of his words drive right into your lower stomach where your orgasmed has so much compacted pressure you know you’re going to snap any moment. “Taste so good. I could eat this pussy all fucking night.”

“Fuck, Chan. I’m gonna come.”

He gives a harsh suck to your cunt, the wet sound obscene. “Good.”

“Like that.”

“Yeah?” he asks, panting. He does it again, following your instruction. Your mouth falls open as you nod, unable to string together more than. “Mmm.”

Chan doubles his effort, the wet sounds of his mouth making it all the harder to keep it together. He keeps you in place as best as he can, but his little hums of pleasure and the combination of his mouth and tongue send your orgasm slamming into you.

You think you say his name. You have no idea if anything comes out at all. You come hard, thrashing against the bed as he licks you through it, uncaring. Every nerve in your body is on fire, limbs tingling as you float in the momentary high of your peak before you start to come back down, breathing raggedly.

A cramp throbs in your fingers that are still twisted in Chan’s grip. You loosen your grip a little bit, feeling a little bad about almost snapping his fingers. He doesn’t seem to mind, head still between your legs, tongue gentle and pressed against your twitching entrance. He avoids your clit, letting you catch your breath.

“Chan,” you mumble. He lifts his head, your arousal spread across his mouth. He is a mess, spiking your need for him. You pull at him, wild. “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He scrambles up to you, letting go of your hand in favor of cradling your face. The kiss is hungry and wet, your heady taste on his mouth as you drink him in. You don’t care, desperate to have him close, pulling him into you.

One of your hands snakes between your bodies, pressing against the firm outline of his cock through his pants. He lets out a whine, shaking his head as he breaks the kiss, breathing heavy.

“Don’t,” he begs. “I will cum right now.”

“Oh?”

“I’m so serious, I almost came untouched.”

“Wow, I really do it for you, huh?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His sincerity makes you flush and you peck him on the lips. “I cannot promise I will not come apart after a single stroke.”

“Don’t care.” You undo his belt, pulling. “Want it. Want you. Please don’t make me wait.”

He curses. “I can deny you nothing.” He sees your wicked grin and shakes his head, laughing as he pulls away to kick out of his pants. “You like having me wrapped around your finger, huh?”

“You’re not the only one whipped.” He looks at you, doubtful. “You think I share my fries with anyone? Be so real, Chan. That’s something only you can do.”

“Got it. French fry privileges, what else can I weaponize?”

You don’t answer his question, distracted by him as he peels his briefs off and fists his heavy cock. You lick your lips, drinking in the length and thickness of him, the sticky, swollen tip, the way he pumps himself when he kneels on the bed again.

“Hmm?” he asks, noticing you're distracted. “Everything okay?”

“You have a nice dick,” you blurt. He pauses, raising his brows, thighs pressed to the back of yours. You fold your lips flat, a little embarrassed by your outburst. “Thank you is the proper response to a compliment.”

He bursts into laughter and you can’t help but join him, covering your face as it heats up. “Don’t hide from me, wanna see you,” he teases, grabbing your hands and pulling them from your face. He pins them above your head. “And thank you.”

Chan runs the head of his cock along your sticky folds, both of you moaning in unison. His hand still pins yours above your head, making you feel open and vulnerable. Your knees squeeze his hips as he ruts against you a little, eyes focused while he uses his other end to guide himself to your entrance.

“Mmm,” the sound escapes you as he presses in, the ache in your core doubling for a second as he sinks further. “Fuuuck.”

“Okay?”

“Very. Just- slow.”

“You got it, baby.”

The term of endearment hits you low in the stomach. Between him whispering baby and sinking into the hilt, you don’t know what drives you crazier. The easy answer is just Chan. It’s simply Chan who does this to you, who turns you inside out, who reduces you to a whimpering mess.

Chan lets go of your hands and brings it to your face. He leans down, supported by the other hand as he kisses you gently, letting you adjust to his girth, pussy spasming around him as you try to keep it together. The kiss is slow and sweet, in contrast to the feral kiss you shared earlier.

“Fuck,” he breaths against you mouth, laughing. He presses his forehead against yours. “You’re fucking squeezing me. I might die.”

You do it on purpose this time and he hisses, all of his muscles clenching. “Like that?”

“Doonnn’t. If I come right now I’ll be so embarrassed.”

“Why? It’s just me.”

“I don’t want to one-stroke my dream girl, are you serious?”

“Dream girl, huh?” He pulls out a little before shallow thrusting back in. “Mmm yeah. That feels good.”

Instead of answering your jest, he kisses you slowly. His strokes are slow but deep, making you sigh. He feels so good, having him like this. Chan presses his body against you, melding the two of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, squeezing to keep him as close as possible.

Your name falls from his lips as you move in sync. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, feel him shake in your hands. He buries his face in your neck, mouth pressed against your skin as he breathes heavily. You cling to him, as though you could press your love into him, as though you can transfer it through touch.

Chan slides a hand between the two of you, reaching down to circle your clit gently. You whimper in surprise, squeezing around him and drawing out a low sound. “I’m gonna come soon,” he murmurs. “Do you have another one, baby? Can you try for me?”

You nod. He presses his lips to your temple, driving his hips faster, fingers firm. You feel yourself wind up again, desperate to catch up to Chan, to give him what he wants, to come undone together. You’d do anything for him - anything he asked. You always have.

A glint of metal catches your eye. You see the necklace you gifted him hanging around his neck, tapping his collarbone in time with his movements. The sight of it makes you possessive, your desire for him surging. Gripping the back of his neck, you bring his mouth to yours. You don’t kiss him, but your mouths are pressed together as you mutter, “I love you, you know?”

He groans, hips stuttering, fingers firm. You’re so close, you feel yourself right on that edge again. “I do know,” he admits, his cock pressing that perfect spot inside of you that has the room spinning. “I love you too, you know?”

You feel him smile against you. The kiss he gives you is so gentle that it sends you over the edge. You hold him tight, coming undone around him as he groans into your mouth, unraveling with you. When he stills, you keep holding him to you, his embrace warm.

Chan nudges your nose with his. You open your eyes to find his dark ones peering at you. You smile, lifting a hand to trace your fingers along his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, the roundness of his cheeks. You note the faint freckles under his eyes, his long lashes, the way one side of his lips lifts before the other when he smiles.

“Hmm?” he asks.

“You’re so pretty.” You trace your finger to his nose and then flick it. He frowns and pulls away, making you laugh. “There is cum leaking down my leg to my ass.” He thrusts once sharply and you whine. “Chaaaan.”

“Hmmm?”

“Can we shower?”

“We?”

You grin. “You speak French?”

“I speak pussy.”

“Ew, get off of me!” you laugh, hitting him in the shoulder. He laughs too, rolling off and pulling out. “Take me to the shower, you loser.”

“Oui.”

“Then I want to watch Buffy - oh no.”

“What?” He stands and reaches a hand out to you, helping you up. “Are you alright?”

“I ordered pizza and they probably tried to deliver.”

“That’s okay.” He pulls you toward the shower and smacks your ass lightly, making you yelp. “Start the shower, I’ll call and get it re-delivered.”

You pause, looking at him, unable to bite back the smile. “I love you.”

“Mhmm. Love you too, Bambi.”

“I know I’m good looking,” Chan murmurs, eyes on the screen. “But you’re staring very hard at me.”

You’re laying against his chest, head tilted up to look at him. You can’t help it, watching the blue light from the TV dance across his face, reflected in the glasses he put on after the shower. His hair is still damp and fluffy, skin glistening from the skincare post-shower.

“You are good looking.”

“Damn. Only like me for the looks?”

“Well your jokes aren’t very good.”

He levels you with a glare and you laugh, kissing him quickly before settling down in his arms again. His embrace is warm and he smells like your shampoo. You press yourself into him further and he grunts, letting you.

“Can we do Blood and Popcorn forever?” you ask, watching him fondly. He smiles and kisses your forehead, flooding you with warmth. “Please?”

“Anything you ask, baby. Blood and Popcorn forever.”

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elliesbelle · 9 months ago

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 14

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, some setting is in a hospital, mentions of catheters and needles, descriptions and talk of anaphylaxis, mentions of financial difficulties, mentions of alcohol, mentions of toxic parents, mentions of death and suicide, minors do not interact

word count: 7.9k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

palestine will be free

The first thing you feel is something plastic poking the inside of your nose. It smelled of chilly, medicinal air conditioning.

The next thing you feel is a massive, unpleasant weight on your chest. Then at the crown of your head. Then some weird pressure squeezing your calves every few seconds. Then an entirely full bladder.

“I need to fucking pee.” You mutter, voice dry and raspy.

“I think you can just go, dude.” A familiar voice replies.

You fight against the crustiness of your eyes but immediately regret it. All you can see through the slits of your eyelids is a harsh, white light.

“Am I… Am I fucking blind?” You whine.

“I’m pretty sure that your eyeballs are still inside your head. So hopefully not.” You hear the voice chuckle.

You fight against the unforgiving glare from above, forcing your eyes open. It takes a few moments to gain control of your body, but you’re eventually able to crane your neck towards where the voice had previously echoed from.

“J-Jesse?” You croak.

“Yeah. I’m here, bud.” Your raven-haired friend smiles.

You spot him to your left, sitting in, what appears to be, an uncomfortable armchair. He wore a blue disposable mask over his nose and mouth, his hair looking unkempt and unshowered, and you notice how his clothes look wrinkled and slept in.

“What happened? Are you alright? What’s going on?” You groggily inquire.

“You’re the one all strapped to a hospital bed, but you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

Jesse takes your hand and squeezes it appreciatively. He flashes you a soft, warm smile.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

“I-I’m not sure…” You admit. “What… what the hell happened?”

“Well,” Jesse starts slowly. “You went on a date with Anderson to Orchards yesterday. At the end of it, you were being a total dummy and made out with her after she ate a whole plate of shrimp.”

“N-no, no,” You interrupt, scrunching your face up as you try to recall the previous day’s events. “She ate this whole soup thing for dinner. Some weird French dish with some weird-sounding name.”

“Bouillabaisse,” Jesse clarifies. “It’s a fish soup. It doesn’t always have shellfish in it, but hers apparently did.”

You groan.

“Oh, I am such a dumbass.”

“Please explain to me exactly how you were being a dumbass in this situation.”

“You literally just said that I was a dummy!”

“That was Jesse of the past. I’m a much more mature man now in my old age.”

You attempt to smack his arm, but he’s saved by the many coils of IVs attached to you, pulling your hand back.

As he playfully rebukes you for attempted physical abuse, another person enters the room. A kind-looking nurse walks in with a clipboard in hand. Wearing dark blue scrubs, a low ponytail, and a surgical mask, she greets you with a friendly wave. She approaches your bedside opposite Jesse, and her glasses-covered eyes indicate a friendly smile.

“Hi there,” She nods. “My name is Yoojin. I’m your nurse today. I’m so sorry for not being here when you woke up. I had to step out for a few seconds, but your brother here assured me that you were in capable hands.”

You turn to Jesse and mouth in amusement, “Brother?”

He suppresses a laugh.

“Later.” He whispers through his mask.

You turn to Yoojin with a small grin.

“No worries. I only just woke up now.” You assure.

She gives you, what you assume, is another smile under her mask.

“So how are you feeling?”

Jesse remained by your side the entire time, only leaving briefly when he needed to use the bathroom or take a call. He sympathized with your gripes about being bedridden, making lighthearted jokes about your catheter, messing around with the IPC devices off your legs over and over until a nurse came in and kindly asked him to stop.

The TV in your room wasn’t working, so he kept you entertained, cracking his usual dad jokes and telling some old stories of Jackson you hadn’t heard yet. You pretended not to notice that the anecdotes he’d recall always excluded an essential person in his childhood, and you tried your best not to remark on it.

After a couple of hours, Dina finally came around to visit. She walks in as you’re berating Jesse for stealing a fruit cup you knew you weren’t going to eat. The sight of her immediately warms your heart.

“Dina!” You exclaim. “Oh, I missed you.”

Dina sets her bag down next to Jesse, lowers her face mask for a moment to give him a quick peck on the cheek, and pulls up a chair next to him. She takes your hand and beams at you graciously. You notice that her eyes are slightly glassy.

“Oh, babe,” She sighs. “I missed you too. Sorry that I’m just getting here. Had to deal with a few things before I came over.”

“Don’t apologize, D. I’m just glad to see you.”

She squeezes your hand softly.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” She gulps. “You worried us so much.”

“Sorry about that,” You grin sheepishly. “I was being a bit of a dummy.”

Dina blinks for a moment before giving Jesse a smack on the back of his head at this.

“Oy vey. You asshole.” She chides knowingly.

“Hey! No need to abuse me! I’m delicate.”

He caresses the spot where she hit him as you laugh heartily.

The couple recounts the events of last night for you, explaining in detail as much as they know. You listen without interruption until they reach the topic of your EpiPen.

“But how’d you guys get to my EpiPen so quickly? Did you pass by my apartment?” You ask them curiously. “I don’t mind if you guys did! It’s just not that close to the restaurant. Wouldn’t have made much sense to book it back to my apartment, honestly.”

Dina and Jesse share a look you don’t understand. Your eyebrows furrow, confused by their hesitation. Eventually, Dina responds.

“Uh, well…” She begins slowly. “Jesse actually happened to have a spare EpiPen at his place. Thank god, right?”

“You did?” You turn your head towards Jesse. “I didn’t even know you had one, Jesse.”

“Y-yeah,” Dina continues cautiously as you notice Jesse’s expression shift to a poker face. “He used to have an, uh, egg allergy growing up.”

“What?” You ask incredulously.

“Yup,” Jesse chimes in. “I grew out of it when I was in high school. But my mom still insists that I have an EpiPen on me. Just in case.”

You continue to look completely discombobulated. You don’t fully buy their story, especially since neither were looking you directly in the face. But you’ve always trusted Dina as a sister and Jesse like a brother, so you half-heartedly accept the tale they’ve decided to present you with.

“Oh, okay,” You say, slightly unconvinced. “Well, thank god for that, I guess. Is it okay that you used it on me, though? What if you suddenly need it again?”

“No worries,” Jesse assures you. “I’ll call my mom and ask her to send me a new one.”

His poker face improves, so you concede for now.

The couple continue to recount the previous day’s events until they eventually catch up to the present.

“Only family is technically allowed to visit you in the ICU,” Dina confesses at one point. “Jesse had to say he’s your brother to get past the nurses' station. The nurse manning the desk at the time could definitely tell we were lying, but she was really nice and allowed it anyway.”

“Oh, gotcha,” You say. “Well, you’re basically my brother, anyway.”

“You should feel so lucky to share the same genes as me.” He boasts, stealthily avoiding yet another smack from Dina.

“What about you, D?” You ask, turning towards her. “What did you say you were? My sister?”

“Nah, I didn’t wanna be siblings with Jesse, even just as pretend.” She grimaces.

“Okay, yeah, didn’t think of that,” You realize, scrunching up your nose in total disgust at the thought. “Gross.”

“Wouldn’t be able to get that image out of my head.” Dina shudders. “Anyway, I told them that I’m your life partner.”

“My what?” You giggle.

“Hey, it counts!” Dina defends. “Well, kind of. The nurse had to list me as your ‘spouse’ instead, which feels like a hate crime.”

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh as Jesse chuckles.

“What? You don’t wanna be married to me?” Dina asks in mocking shock and offense.

“I am absolutely honoured to be married to you,” You assure her. “I’m just worried about poor Jesse. How in the world are we supposed to break it to him that we’ve actually been married for over ten years?”

“Oh, please, Jesse’s known from the start that he’s always just been a side piece.”

“Hey!” Jesse interjects in indignance. “I’m right here.”

“Be quiet, side piece. The wife and I are speaking.” Dina waves him off.

You burst out into laughter at Jesse’s playfully hurt expression.

The three of you discuss what the doctors have told you, and you eventually bring up the conditions required of you to be discharged.

“I know that the doctors and nurses saved my life and whatever. And of course, I’m very grateful. And I truly do not mean any disrespect,” You say. “But I want to get the fuck out of here, uhh, right fucking now.”

Dina smiles and Jesse chuckles.

“I know, babe.” Dina sympathizes.

“You’ll be out sooner than you know, bud,” Jesse adds. “Don’t stress over it. We’ll get you out as soon as possible.”

“Oh!” Dina suddenly pipes up and reaches into her bag. “I can’t believe I forgot. I brought your phone. I was able to grab your purse for you before the paramedics took you away. I turned it off and charged it at home, so it should have some juice.”

She places your phone in your hand, and you flash her a grateful smile.

“D, you need to be canonized for your good deeds, I swear. With a statue and everything.”

“Oh, I know,” Dina smirks. “Brought your wallet too. Not sure if you wanna keep it here or bring it back to your apartment, though.”

“I’ll ask them if I can keep it here with me.”

A thought suddenly hits you.

“I’ll… I’ll have to figure out how to pay for all this when I get out.” You sigh.

“Oh, babe,” Dina says reassuringly. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. Just focus on resting, okay?”

“Your insurance will hopefully take care of a huge chunk of it,” Jesse contemplates. “It’s through your dad, right?”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” You say as your hands begin to fidget anxiously. “Something as big as this, they’ll probably contact my parents. I… I can’t let them know I’m in here. I know it’ll start shit and… I just know it won’t be good.”

The couple give you identical, concerned looks.

“D-do they know? Th-that I’m in here?” You ask timidly.

“Not that we know,” Jesse replies. “Neither of them is on your emergency contact list. And you know that Dina and I would never speak to either of them. Unless it’s to tell them to shove a stick up their respective asses.”

You and Dina giggle.

“Speaking of which,” Dina adds. “You can ask your uncle. I called him yesterday while you were still out. I hope that’s alright.”

“Oh, that was so thoughtful of you,” You say gratefully. “What did he say? I hope he didn’t worry too much.”

“Honey, you almost died. Of course, he’s worried. He loves you.” She checks the time on her phone. “He should be arriving sometime later today, actually.”

“Shit,” You groan. “He didn’t have to do that. He gets so busy with work during this time of the year. This must have been so inconvenient—”

Jesse suddenly takes his thumb and middle finger and flicks you on the forehead.

“What the fuck!” You exclaim in indignance, rubbing the spot you were hit, as Dina gives him another hard smack on the head. Jesse ignores you both.

“You are more important than any goddamn job that exists in the world, in the whole motherfucking galaxy. Your uncle loves you, just as we do. So no more complaining about it, dumbass.”

You give him a pouty look, but his words fill your heart.

Your best friends stay the rest of the time until your uncle arrives around midday. Relief and affection overwhelm you when he enters the room. You squeeze him with the tightest embrace you can possibly give for someone essentially strapped to their hospital bed. You ignore the loud beeping resulting from the tangling of your many IV wires.

After your friends help you unravel all the cords, they gather their things and get up from their chairs.

“We’ll let you guys talk.” Jesse says, offering his seat to your uncle.

“Oh, you don’t have to leave.” Your uncle graciously assures them.

“It’s alright; have some family time,” Jesse insists kindly. “I’m pretty sure she can only have two visitors at a time, anyway.”

The couple make their way towards the sliding glass door.

“I cannot express how grateful I am for you two,” Your uncle says before they exit. “Thank you for saving her life. And thank you for keeping me in the loop.”

“Please, no need to thank us, really.” Dina nods kindly. “She’s family. We would do absolutely anything for her.”

“That means you’re both family to me too.” Your uncle concludes. “Thank you.”

You hold back tears of vast emotion from three of the most important people in your life exchanging such caring sentiments. You’ve never felt luckier.

“We’ll be in the waiting room,” Jesse promises. “Let us know if either of you needs anything, okay?”

Jesse and Dina take their leave, and your uncle subsequently takes a seat next to you.

“Oh, Uncle,” You start before he can speak. “I’m so, so sorry. You shouldn’t have flown all this way. I can’t believe I was so stupid to have—”

“Hey, hey,” Your uncle interjects. “None of that. You have no reason to be sorry. You needed me, so I’m here. I’m not mad, and this is not your fault.”

Tears form in the corners of your eyes.

“I just feel like I’ve inconvenienced so many people. If I could have just paid attention…” You lament. “And now I’ve totally made you drop everything to be here. I know you’ve still got work—”

“You are a thousand times more important than my job, sweetheart.” He shakes his head and squeezes your hand, echoing Jesse’s previous words.

“But…”

“You are my family. Nothing is more important than that.”

You smile at his adamancy.

“And especially since losing Rafael,” He continues. “I think of you as my own.”

“I know, Uncle.”

You squeeze his hand back in affection.

“D-did…” You suddenly say. “Did you tell—”

“No, your mother and father don’t know a thing about this.” He answers insightfully.

“Thank god.”

“Did you want me to tell them?”

You grimace. Your uncle chuckles.

“I figured as much.” He surmises.

“I just don’t know how to keep this from them forever, though,” You continue. “They’ll see it through the insurance company. I…”

“Don’t worry about that. I can talk to the nurses later today before I leave, see if I can pay it in full myself without needing to use your father’s insurance.”

“Uncle, please. Please don’t do that. This is going to be so costly, and you’ve still got your mortgage and Raf’s leftover student debt—”

“I just want you to focus on getting better, alright? I don’t want anything else on your plate right now.”

“Uncle, promise me. Please. Please promise me. Do not spend a single cent on this. I want to do this on my own. I’ll figure it out. Please promise me.”

He gives you nothing more than a smile in response.

Your friends and uncle take turns rotating as your company for the rest of the day. They’d only leave your side when the doctors and nurses needed to conduct extensive tests to ensure that you were still stable. You were never on your own for more than a few seconds, your loved ones determined that you not feel alone.

You’d turned your phone on almost immediately after Dina’d handed it to you. But as a small, gracious gesture of appreciation, you had set it aside to give your visitors your undivided attention for the rest of the day.

It wasn’t until the evening, when your friends and uncle waved you goodbye as visiting hours ended, that you allowed yourself to finally glance at your notifications.

Anxiously picking your phone up, the first thought you have is to call Abby. Jesse and Dina had mentioned she was with them in the waiting room the night before. But, like your friends, she was informed that she wasn’t permitted to see you in the ICU as she wasn’t family. Dina and Jesse sent her home with the promise to let her know as soon as possible when you finally woke up and that you were alright.

You notice that she’d messaged you earlier in the day. But much too embarrassed to face her just yet, you decide instead to first call your old freshman roommate.

Tara picks up after only two rings, almost as if she’d been waiting by the phone for your call. She greets you with a happy shriek of your full name, an amused giggle escaping your lips as a response to her sudden enthusiasm.

“Thank fucking god!!! I’ve been waiting all fucking day to hear the sound of your voice!”

“Umm, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You reply, smirking. “This is actually Satan, here to leave a message. I’m calling to let you know that I will be collecting your mortal soul sometime during the next 24 hours.”

“Oh nooooo,” Tara plays along. “What on earth have I done to warrant eternal damnation, Miss Satan?”

“Not sure if you know, but homosexuality is actually a cardinal sin. And unfortunately, you seem to be a notorious, flaming homosexual. I know, I know; it’s quite disappointing. But alas, I do not make the rules.”

“But Miss Satan, are you not a homosexual too?”

“Well, that’s exactly how I know it’s a sin.”

The two of you crackle at each other’s banter, and you make plans in your head to spend more time with Tara and the rest of the girls after you’re released from the hospital.

You and Tara chat for a little while about the most mundane things, like her classes the day before and her plans for the weekend. She apologizes for not having more to say and for “being so boring,” but you’re genuinely happy to just hear her prattle off about anything.

At some point, she hands her phone over to Astrid, who greets you with a similarly delighted shriek that her girlfriend had received you with prior. She gushes over you with love and concern, insisting that she and all the Wilson girls come to visit you as soon as you’re out and adjusted.

“Tara just about broke down when I told her about it.” She reveals. “She was about to leave for her shift at Ruston’s when Dina called, and I’m pretty sure the whole dorm could hear her sobbing.”

“What?! I did not!” You hear Tara shout from a short distance.

“You had so much snot running down from your nose that I just about hosed your face down before you left!” Astrid yells back.

“Stop telling her that! She doesn’t need to hear all that!!”

You giggle at the couple’s repartee.

“Anyway,” Astrid continues. “Kris, Sid, and I tried to come down for a visit, but they apparently only let family in. Jesse and Dina seemed to have monopolized the fake roles of being your family already.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Addy.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” She brushes off. “I’m just glad that you haven’t been alone there. Those two really care about you, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Dina started to make a whole fuss when they wouldn’t let us past,” Astrid continues. “Threatened to sue the nurses, all the doctors, the entire hospital. The receptionist nurse didn’t even get a chance to kick her out ‘cause Jesse himself forced her to go leave and take a walk to calm down. I don’t think she came back until a couple of hours later.”

“Yeah, that sounds like our Dina.” You snort.

The two of you discuss what you’d like to do whenever you finally get released, Astrid swearing to get you out of your apartment nearly every day after your discharge.

“I don’t think I have all the stamina for all that, babe.” You chuckle.

“Then you better get yourself to the gym with Jesse, and build that stamina the fuck up! I want your sexy self at parties and clubs, living your best 20s life with us!”

You chuckle warily at this, simultaneously pushing away the reminder of who Jesse’s daily workout partner is.

After saying your goodbyes to Tara and Astrid, you make brief calls to the rest of the girls of the Wilson Crew. They all answer your calls with an assortment of jubilant greetings, each girl expressing their elation and gratefulness that you’re finally awake and safe.

You send individual texts of love to Dina, Jesse, and your uncle, thanking them extensively for coming to your aid and expressing your excitement to see them again very soon.

Having done your rounds of gratitude, you finally acknowledge that you can no longer ignore the unread texts of the blonde-braided woman you’d had your near-fatal dinner with. You open up your message thread with Abby to see that she’d sent you only three texts earlier in the day.

You stare at her text.

Oh. Huh.

No part of you blamed Abby for the incident; in fact, you’d been feeling a tremendous amount of remorse for putting her through such a traumatizing and jarring ordeal. It had been plaguing you so much since you woke up that you were far too embarrassed to ask Jesse and Dina more about her.

But something about her texts bothers you. There was very little warmth and familiarity in her messages. Her words didn’t seem that of the woman who had been walking you to your classes every day, who showed you off to her friends at the Bow and the Arrow, who treated you to a lavish restaurant on a fancy date. Who kissed you with so much passion on the sidewalk of that same restaurant the evening before.

Is… Is she angry with me?

You continue to stare at her strange messages for several more minutes, unable to process the situation you’re somehow in now. You can’t think of an appropriate response that would lead to something honest, so you decide to put your response off.

A-at least until after they release me… At least until I get home…

The doctors only began to discuss the possibility of your discharge early Sunday morning. Though it hadn’t even been a full two days since your admittance, it took everything in you not to practically beg them to let you go. You’d been insisting to anyone who’d listen that you were completely fine, that you’d walk right out yourself if you weren’t strapped to your bed with a million wires.

It wasn’t until midday, as you were mercilessly beating Jesse’s Shy Guy as Pink Gold Peach in Mario Kart, that Yoojin walked into your room with good news. You don’t notice her at first, too busy taunting Jesse for landing in 7th place while you scored 1st.

“You only won because I got Lakitu’d in the second lap! Fuckin’ Isabelle was sending red shells at me nonstop…” Jesse gripes.

“Sucks. Sounds like a personal problem, man.” You shrug.

“Alright, I want a rematch, but on the Egg course this time.”

“You’re such a sore fucking loser!”

“There’s a shortcut on Yoshi’s circuit close to where the finish line is, by the way,” Yoojin interjects, eyes smiling. “If you use a mushroom and drift to the hidden waterfall on the right, it’ll get you pretty far ahead.”

You and Jesse look up, a bit sheepish at her witnessing your juvenile behaviour. The nurse looks completely unbothered by it, however, and she approaches your bed as you place your controller down.

“Aww, come on, Yoojin,” You whine. “Don’t tell him that! I’m on a winning streak!”

“Shh,” Jesse shushes you, attempting to cover your face with one hand. “Don’t listen to her, Yoojin. She’s delirious from all the drugs you’ve been pumping her with. I must know all your secrets, ‘cause I swear, this one is cheating.”

“Maybe later,” Yoojin laughs as you flick Jesse’s forehead. “Because you might want to hear what your doctor just told me.”

Your ears perk up at this.

“I can go home?”

“Your most recent labs just came back, and everything looks good.” Yoojin nods. “And your vitals have been stable for the last 24 hours. So unless you plan on wolfing down ten pounds of shrimp sometime before leaving, we can get started on getting you released sometime later today.”

Your face breaks out in a huge smile, and you turn to grasp Jesse’s arm.

“Dude! I can go home!” You exclaim.

“Yes, I heard,” Jesse says. You can feel his smirk through his face mask. “Finally.”

You turn back to Yoojin.

“I can go right now?” You ask.

“It’ll take a couple of hours to make sure everything’s set for your discharge,” Yoojin says, chuckling at your eagerness. “But just hang tight, and you’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Why don’t you guys settle things here while I go tell your uncle?” Jesse offers.

Your uncle had stepped out to get some lunch at the hospital’s food court not too long ago. He and Jesse had arrived on the dot when visiting hours began earlier in the day. Dina had accompanied them but left shortly after to take care of other obligations, promising to be right back the second she was done.

“Oh, that’d be great,” You say. “Thanks, Jess.”

“No worries, bud. I’ll be right back.”

He gives you a pat on the head before leaving you alone with the nurse.

“So before you leave, we’ll go over a few things to make sure you don’t suddenly relapse during the next few days,” Yoojin begins. “And we’ll make sure you go home with a couple of new, unexpired EpiPens, just in case.”

You nod as she goes on to explain the plans for your discharge. You listen attentively, determined not to end up back in the hospital like this again. As Yoojin wraps up, you work yourself up to ask her a question that’s been at the tip of your tongue since the beginning of the conversation.

“Hey, umm, before you go,” You mutter nervously. “I wanted to ask about how much all of this will cost me. I-I know it’ll be pricey and all, especially with two brand new EpiPens, so I just want to be prepared.”

“That’s not really something I can help you with,” Yoojin replies apologetically. “That’s the jurisdiction of the hospital’s billing department. But I’m sure you can get it all settled with your insurance after you’ve been released. Depending on what you have, they should cover most of it.”

You give her a tentative smile as you wring your blanket between your fingers.

“A-alright then.” You sigh defeatedly.

It takes about two hours for you to finally be released from all your restraints and another hour until you’re finally walking out of the hospital and into the sunny parking lot. Yoojin allowed you a quick embrace before you left, insisting that you promise to be much more careful from here on out.

You lean against your uncle and Jesse for support as you exit the hospital’s automatic sliding doors, legs still a little shaky after being bedridden for so long. Dina pulls up next to you in her car and gets out to open the passenger door.

“M’lady.” She says with a bow, gesturing to the seat.

“Shut up, D.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“You sure you’ve got everything?” Your uncle inquires.

“I think so,” You reply. “Didn’t really bring anything with me.”

“Alright, well, I’ll head to my hotel room first so I can take care of a few things. I’ll meet the three of you at your apartment sometime later today. Sound good?”

You, Jesse, and Dina all nod in unison. Before he walks away, you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much, Uncle,” You murmur. “It means so much to me that you came.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Anything at all.”

He gives you a quick squeeze before releasing you, promising he won’t take very long before walking away towards his rental car.

“So,” Dina chimes. “Wanna grab some gross, greasy non-hospital food on the way home?”

When you finally cross the threshold of your apartment, you’d already wolfed down the majority of your fries along with half a chocolate milkshake. You collapse onto your couch with a relieved sigh, your best friends falling next to you on either side. You lean your head onto Dina’s shoulder as you take her hand between both of yours.

“I think I’m about to go into the world’s longest food coma.” You decree.

“I’m right alongside you, dude.” Jesse agrees, having devoured one and a half burgers himself on the way.

“No comas, please, or we’re gonna have to turn right back around and readmit you into that hospital.” Dina says.

“Never again, please,” You beg. “If I have to hear the nonstop beeping of a heart monitor for one more second, I’m going into straight-up fight-or-flight mode.”

Your friends chuckle.

“Alright,” Jesse eventually says as he sits up straighter. “Now that you’ve been freed, what do you want to do first?”

You hum as you ponder his question.

“Get so blackout drunk that I totally forget this entire experience ever even happened in the first place?” You offer.

“Right, well, perhaps we can do something that isn’t completely stupid and detrimental to your health. Especially after you were just in the hospital after almost dying.” Dina retorts.

You boo her as Jesse chuckles.

“Well,” You continue. “I guess I should tell the girls I’m finally out. I promised them I would. Or did you guys say anything to them already?”

“Not yet,” Dina says. “They’ll probably want to hear it from you.”

You groan.

“You’re right. Ugh. I don’t think I can handle the sheer amount of screaming and excitement that’ll come with it, though. Kris sounded like she was going to smother me with so much love that I’d suffocate from it.”

“You can always put it off, at least until tomorrow.” Jesse counters.

“I guess so. You think they’ll be mad?”

“Babe,” Dina says, squeezing your hands and rolling her eyes. “You almost died. I think they’ll survive a day.”

“Alright, alright,” You giggle. “I probably should focus on getting work done before class tomorrow, anyway.”

“Ma’am, I know you are not thinking of going to your classes right after you were just in the hospital all weekend.” Jesse scolds sternly.

“I’m fine!”

“Dear lord.” Jesse sighs, exasperated.

“Like I said,” Dina repeats. “You almost died. School is not a priority right now. You need to be resting, not writing essays and doing homework.”

“I don’t want to fall behind!”

“Didn’t your doctor give you a school note before we left earlier? She said you can give it to your professors to excuse you from your classes this week.”

“Yeah, but it’s not mandatory or anything. I’m fully recovered now, so it just seems totally unnecessary.”

“Like hell it is!” Dina bellows before releasing your hands to stand up from the couch. You fall flat on your face onto her spot when her shoulder disappears from under your head, and you muffle irritated curses into the couch cushion. You look up to see she’s disappeared momentarily into your bedroom.

“D… What are you doing?”

Dina reemerges after a few seconds, your laptop in her hands.

“Babe. What’d you get that for?” You ask suspiciously.

“I’m emailing all of your professors myself to tell them that you will not be attending any of your classes this week. Especially since it seems that you want to be such a stubborn dumbass about it…” Dina says matter-of-factly, shoving your head away from her spot on the couch to sit beside you once more.

“Never should have given you my password.” You grumble as Dina opens up your laptop and easily bypasses your lockscreen.

“Alright, who are all your professors again?” She asks, opening up your browser to access your email.

“I’m not telling you!” You reply stubbornly, crossing your arms.

“Hmm… I know she’s got Olinick’s double class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Mulligan at least on Mondays—” Jesse lists, counting your professors on one hand.

“No, no, no, I don’t!” You turn towards him, shoving your hands in his face.

“—I think Joslin from the English department too, but I can’t remember if that was last year or this year.”

“Jesse!”

By the time your uncle arrives at your apartment, you’d conceded to your best friends and allowed them to draft an excuse email to all of your professors. Dina opens the door for him after he knocks while you make final edits to your letters, and he settles into the ratty, secondhand armchair right next to the couch.

Your uncle chuckles at the scene before him: you with a focused look on your face typing rapidly on your laptop, Jesse leaning back into the couch while gently patting the top of your head as he continued to make suggestions to your email, and DIna taking her seat right back next to you before kicking her feet onto your lap as you lift and place your laptop on top of her legs. It had been a while since your uncle had seen you so relaxed around other people, the last time being right before your freshman year of college. His fondness for your best friends quickly grows by the second.

You look up from your work for a moment to smile warmly at your uncle, and he returns it with one of his own.

“Hi, Uncle! Sorry, I’m just finishing up this email to my professors.”

“No need to apologize, sweetheart. You telling them you won’t be attending any classes this week?”

“Yup,” Jesse answers for you. “Took a lot of bullying on our part to convince her not to overwork herself with school right now.”

“This dummy wanted to go back to classes right away as if nothing happened.” Dina rolls her eyes as she extracts a foot from underneath your laptop to kick you softly, earning her a stern “Hey, hey, hey!” from you.

“Well, thank goodness she has you two to set her straight.” Your uncle chuckles.

“Oh, she’s absolutely lost without us.” Jesse says, continuing to pat the top of your head.

Your uncle smiles. He can tell that Jesse’s joking around, but he knows that the couple have both been selflessly keeping you alive for the past few years.

“So how are you feeling?” Your uncle continues with concern etched on his face.

“Not so bad,” You admit. “Just so glad to be among civilians once again.”

You feel Jesse rub your upper back kindly.

“I’m sure,” Your uncle smiles kindly. “How about we talk about what you’re going to do now that you’re out?”

The four of you discuss what the next, post-hospital visit steps would be. They remind you of the check-up appointment you have later in the week, caution you once more about what foods you need to constantly be looking out for, and double-check that you have your new EpiPens handy and within constant reach.

“I still have my current EpiPen in the bathroom,” You say. “It hasn’t lapsed yet. So maybe I can give you each of the ones they sent me home with, if that isn’t too much of an inconvenience to either of you guys?”

You turn towards Dina then Jesse.

“You sure?” Jesse asks.

“Yeah, I mean, I obviously don’t want something like this to happen again. But if, by some hideous trick of fate, I end up in a repeat situation, it might be smart to just have one in multiple places. Just to cover my bases, I guess.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Dina nods. “As long as you have easy access to one at all times.”

“Yeah, that was my thinking too,” You agree. “Plus, I don’t want to have to use one of yours again, Jess.”

“Mm, I guess.” Jesse hums.

Your eyes meet his and you once again recognize his poker face.

“That sounds like a good plan,” Your uncle agrees. “Let’s try not to rely on just luck next time around.”

You give him an apologetic smile.

The sun had been set for at least an hour when Dina and Jesse finally took their leave. Both offer to stay the night, in case you suddenly need either of them, but you assure them that you’ll survive one night alone just fine. You embrace each of them tightly, putting every ounce of gratitude you have into your hugs.

You settle back onto the couch after you see them both out the door, and you turn towards your uncle still sitting in the armchair.

“I know I’ve said this probably a hundred times the past day or so,” You begin. “But thank you for coming, Uncle.”

“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t come,” He replies. “Neither would Raf if he was still around.”

You both share a sad smile.

“I miss him, Uncle…” You whisper suddenly.

“I know. I do too.”

You sigh before continuing.

“I wish he was still here. I feel… I feel so incomplete without him around. Like this has all been an awful nightmare that I have yet to wake up from.”

“I know just what you mean,” Your uncle laments. “But our lives still go on, sweetheart. I think it’d make him sad to see us grieving him for the rest of our lives.”

“But… it just feels so wrong. It feels so wrong to stop grieving for him, to move on from him.”

“It’s not exactly moving on from him,” Your uncle ponders. “It’s more like… We make a place for him in our hearts. It’s sort of like he becomes a part of us. He’ll always be in everything we do.”

Your eyes well up as a childhood memory floods your thoughts.

When you were eleven years old, you had your first anaphylactic experience. You and Rafael were hanging out at his house, your uncle at work all day. You were making a mess in the kitchen, developing concoctions with half the contents of the pantry. As you were dumping a bag of marshmallows into a blender full of graham crackers and banana slices, Rafael fished an old bag of chips out of one of the cabinets.

The writing on the bag was all in a language you couldn’t understand, but the superheroes on the front seemed to be enjoying the crunchy snack. Raf was tearing the bag open before your greasy fingers started grabbing at its contents.

It didn’t even take two minutes until Rafael realized something was wrong. You were annoyed and taken aback when he slapped the chips out of your hand. It wasn’t until he was hauling you to the garage and strapping you into the passenger seat that you began to feel dizzy. By the time Rafael had driven to the emergency room, your skin had broken out into hives and your throat felt completely swollen. The last thing that you remembered before blacking out was your faithful cousin scooping you up and sprinting to the emergency room’s entrance.

You didn’t hear the end of it from your parents when you’d woken up from being unconscious after a couple of hours. Your mother spared no shame in relentlessly admonishing you, regardless of who was in the room, for your “stupidity.” The doctors and nurses offered you continuous looks of pity as they had to witness your many verbal lashings, though none stepped in to interfere. You were blamed for inconveniencing the family, for forgetting your EpiPen at home, for “forcing” Rafael to drive a car when he didn’t have his driver’s license yet, for obligating your parents to pay for your medical bills.

From that day on, your fear of your parents’ wrath was far greater than the fear of possibly falling prey to your fatal allergy.

All that gave you hope was your uncle and cousin coming to your defense. Unlike your parents, they showered you with care and love, especially Rafael who felt guilty and responsible for your admission. They nursed you back to health after you were released, Rafael promising you that he’d never let it happen to you again.

“Can I tell you something, Uncle?” You ask. “I didn’t even tell Jesse or Dina this. And I don’t think I ever could.”

“You never even have to ask, sweetheart. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I…” You gulp. “There was a point… while I was in the ICU that I was a little lucid for a few moments…”

You wring your fingers together in uneasiness as you stare down at your lap, unable to meet your uncle’s eyes.

“I… I didn’t know what was happening to me. I didn’t know I was going through anaphylaxis again. But I just knew… I felt that something was wrong with me.”

Your uncle listens to you intently, his chin on his hands folded as if he were praying.

“Something inside me… Somehow, I knew that I was dying,” You continue. “Or I knew that at that moment, I could die. I could keep going… or I could choose to let my body give out completely.”

You finally meet your uncle’s gaze.

“And I wanted to. I wanted to just… go,” You confess. “Not in a s-suicidal way. Not exactly, at least.”

Your eyes fill with thick tears.

“But… I wanted to be with him again. I knew that if I gave in, if I succumbed to whatever was killing me, I would see him again.”

Your bottom lip shakes as you continue.

“I miss him so f-fucking much, Uncle. I don’t know how to go on without him around. I’m so l-lost and confused, and all I want to do is talk to h-him about it. But I can’t. There’s n-nobody else in this world that I’ve ever felt as close to as him. Maybe except—”

You break off before you can finish, shaking off the memory of ocean green eyes and a constellation of freckles. The look on your uncle’s face tells you that he already knows how your sentence was going to end, but he says nothing.

“He told me he’d never let anything happen to me. He was always supposed to be here with me,” You sob. “I know that’s selfish. I know that his life didn’t revolve around me. But so much of mine did. I planned… I built my life to always include him. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

Your uncle’s sad eyes watch as you roughly wipe your cheeks of the tears uncontrollably streaming down.

“Sweetheart…” Your uncle begins as he stands up from the armchair to sit next to you on the couch. “You are not selfish. I know how much he meant to you. How much he still means to you.”

He takes your hands between his.

“I just…” You sniffle. “It’s been years. I thought I’d healed from it already. I thought I’d moved past all the pain.”

“It’s not a continuous thing, dealing with your grief.” Your uncle smiles softly. “You’ll have moments, hard ones where it’ll all feel raw and fresh again. It doesn’t mean you’re weak or selfish. You just have your own way of handling your sadness.”

You nod in acknowledgement of his words.

“But I think we both owe it to Raf to live our lives, to be happy without him around,” He continues. “His gift to us was time. Time with him and great memories. Even if he’s no longer with us, we’ll continue to carry that gift with us wherever we go.”

Your uncle smiles and you return it, though wistfully.

“I’m very grateful that you trusted me to share this with me,” Your uncle begins. “But don’t be afraid to talk about this with your friends. Especially those two.”

“Jesse and Dina?”

He nods.

“I see just how much they love you,” Your uncle says. “They seem like they would do absolutely anything for you. And I am so grateful that you have people like that in your life.”

“Yeah, they… mean so much to me.”

“I’m glad. So, please. If I’m not around, don’t be afraid to confide in those two. I’m sure if the roles were reversed, you’d do the same for them.”

“I’d do absolutely anything for them.”

“Exactly. So don’t be afraid to embrace the love in your life. You deserve that. And that’s exactly what Rafael would want for you.”

You throw your arms around your uncle and sob into his shoulder.

You and your uncle continue to talk for a while until you realize that it’s nearly midnight. Like your friends, he offers to stay the night in case you need him. But you know his flight home was only in a few short hours, so you insist that he go back to his hotel to get a bit of sleep before he needs to leave for the airport.

It took everything in you not to beg him to stay, but you couldn’t bear troubling him further. And you longed to finally have some time to yourself, so you put on a brave face.

After your many assurances that you would take care of yourself better, you walk him to your front door. When you open it up, you both notice a simple brown box with a thin bow placed on top of your doormat. You pick it up, noticing how light it feels in your hands.

“What is this?” You mutter.

“You got a package?” Your uncle asks, looking at the box.

“No… I didn’t order anything.”

“Strange. Maybe your friends Dina and Jesse left it for you.” He offers.

“I… I guess,” You frown. “Although, I don’t really know why they wouldn’t just give it to me when they were here earlier.”

“Hmm, that’s true,” He hums, squinting his eyes at it. “A secret admirer, perhaps?”

“Ha ha, Uncle. Very funny.”

You give him an amused grimace before untying the bow and removing the lid. You gasp as you recognize what it contains.

“Oh…”

You drop the box and embrace its previous contents.

“My Barbie Bear…”

author's notes:

thank y'all so much for you patience waiting for this new chapter to come out. i literally wrote like, half of this while in the psych ward, and that was all the way in decemeber sldkfjlsdk

tbh i meant this chapter to be a lot shorter than it turned out to be but lskdjfs more content for y'all ig!

reader's first words after waking up is inspired by me saying, "i need to poop so bad" when the doctors were busy working on me in the emergency room lmaoooo

silver lining of me being in the icu back in december is being able to describe it in detail in this chapter hehe. being in the icu suuuuucked but mostly cause it was boring and cold and i wasn't allowed to get up to pee!!!

the nurse yoojin is named after one of my nurses while i was in the hospital. i loveddddd her, she was such a sweetheart and it made me so happy whenever she was assigned to me. i was rewatching arcane while i was in the hospital, and she saw and asked me about it, and then we gabbed about the show and league of legends (cause she religiously plays the game but hasn't watched arcane yet), and i eventually convinced her to actually watch the show heeeheee

reader’s uncle saying he sees reader as his own is what uncle iroh says to zuko in atla, fun little easter egg heehee (you know me and my love for easter eggs)

reader greeting tara on the phone as satan was how i first greeted my best friend when i was finally able to call her through the public phone in the psych ward (hi rhi LOL)

pink gold peach is my main in mario kart lol

reader's professors mentioned are all named after old professors from my former college's theatre department (rip dennis, miss you always ❤️)

reader’s uncle telling her “we make a place for him in our hearts” in regards to rafael is what tara in buffy the vampire slayer says to dawn when their mom dies (can you tell i love btvs)

working on the next chapter asap, lmk what you think of this chapter in the meantime!

also i made an ao3, so if you wanna read on there too, check it out!

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @keizzzn, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete

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#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes #Spotify

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love-hatred-stuff · 1 year ago

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»envious bucky«

genre: if u know me, u know it’s gon’ be angst, bestfriend/soulmate!bucky

warnings: drinking ig, mentions of being interested in another man (but not really), immensely jealous bucky, who doesn’t know how to process that feeling (he’s being mean), mentions of toxic ex

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

»I don’t like him.« Bucky grumbled under his breath.

You shoot him a look. »Yeah, but I do, darling.« Giving him a strict smile.

»Why? He’s like not even your type.« He sighs in frustration.

Your brows raise at that, looking almost offended.

»What would you know about my type?« You challenged.

The bar you’re sitting in is crowded and busy, much to Bucky’s dismay. But he stays of course, for you. As though it’s different than usual. You didn’t look at him much today, although you’re sitting right beside him, -barely touching each other’s knees, but the contact is there. You two live in the same apartment block and are used to seeing each other every day of the week.

He has a bigger problem with not having your full and honest attention than he would like to admit. You’ve been looking the opposite direction the moment you’ve found yourself these seats. Bucky hates it, because he can see what –or rather who– you’re stalking from his point of view –just as perfect as you can. It’s this french guy Gabriel. He’s new to town and new to your friend group now as well. Nat had brought him with her a couple weeks ago and everyone loved him. Well, except Bucky. But he wasn’t someone who particularly enjoyed meeting new people, everyone knew that. So they weren’t suspicious about it.

It’s not that he didn’t like the guy in general, it’s that you liked him. And every time Gabriel came up to you and started speaking french (because you apparently loved it when he spoke his native language) your eyes started to form into hearts and all those giggles and laughs wouldn’t stop flowing. God, James hoped he would survive tonight without lashing out on you or Mr. “I’m french and handsome so I’m going to steal your girl”.

»I know you prefer rough guys. You don’t like a baby face with a smooth haircut. You don’t like anyone ever actually. But especially not this kind of guy.« Bucky tries to wear his grin proudly, but he’s questioning himself when he sees your expression.

»Oh, is that so? Thanks for reminding me, Mr. Barnes.« You scoff and turn yourself away from him once again. Bucky feels crap after that reaction. He didn’t intend to make you upset.

»No- You know how I mean it, Y/n.« You ignore him and continue to look for your knew found bestie.

Bucky sighs in defeat.

»Do you actually like him?«

He didn’t want an answer to that question if it was a „yes“. So he felt like punching himself realizing what he’d done.

»Bucky, quit it? Please? I’m not talking to you about this.« You brushed him off, annoyed by his demeanor.

He breathed out deeply, looking at you and wishing once again, he would be the one you’re looking at the way you’re watching Gabriel learning billiards right now.

This never happened before. That’s why he was so determined to remind you that you don’t like anyone but him. To remind you you’re his. Except, you’re not. You never were. And realizing that made him physically feel sick to the stomach. He didn’t just not like the idea of you finding something in Gabriel, Bucky depended on you. If you were gonna fall in love with someone else, who would be there to take care of his broken soul? A soul only you had the capability of healing.

It was when you touched his shoulder and slowly gripped your hand around his bicep, that he came back to earth.

»Barnes? Baby, are you okay? You’ve been staring into space for the last ten minutes.« He looked at you, studying your facial expression. You were worried.

Although the nickname and your touch gave him comfort, he still felt like vomiting all over the place. His chest so tight, he struggled to breath normally, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

»I think I’ll head home. Had enough for the night, just feel tired, that’s all.« He tried convincing you with a exhausted smile hanging on his lips.

You figured it out in about five seconds. He never looked that crushed around his friends and you. You knew it had upset him what you said earlier, but you realized it too late. Preoccupied with thoughts of another man.

You mentally slapped yourself. You should’ve been more sensitive about it. Everyone knew how protective Bucky was over you. You suspected why. But you could never know to which extent his love went for you. Bucky himself couldn’t even form it into words, how important you were to him.

»Okay, I’m just gonna inform everyone that we’re leaving. Wait here for me.« You gently squeezed his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.

You were about to go do that but Bucky stopped you.

»Hey, no. You don’t have to go with me. Let Sam walk you home later. I’ll be fine.« His voice sounded almost strangled. So sharp and raspy. You could tell, something wasn’t right.

»Buck, I insist. You don’t look well. Let me take you home, please?«

It irritated him immensely how you went from scoffing at him earlier to wanting to take care of him now.

»I think you’d rather go sit beside Gabriel over there and tell him fancy things about yourself. You don’t have to act like you’re more interested in taking me home than staying here and spending time with him.« You were baffled by his brutal honesty.

He was often like that with others, but never with you. His gentle tone and careful, loving words were only meant for you. Until now it seemed.

Bucky studied your face once again and he could feel the hurt and confusion through your eyes, not making his already heavy heart any lighter.

»W-what are you saying?« You felt the air getting thicker inside your lungs.

»Oh please. You’ve been ogling that man since the moment we walked into this place. Why don’t you just go there? Maybe he’ll get lucky and you’ll even let him take you to bed.«

All that air made it’s way out of your system again and you stopped breathing for a moment.

Bucky’s eyes were telling a different story, but what he’d just said to you made you grow cold.

»Fuck you.« Was the only thing you were able to breath out, before snatching your coat and making your way out of this bar and onto the streets. Right now, you just wanted to wrap yourself in your sheets and forget his dumb face.

Barnes was not fast enough to get a hold of you and apologize. He realized it was the most stupid thing to say to you. It was just that he felt so jealous and hurt, his mind acted on instinct and wanted to hurt you back. Which obviously worked a little too well.

What was he expecting though, when he hit right inside your weakest part? The people who knew you well enough, had heard about your ex. And what he had done to still influence your decisions to this day. It was a long story, but one thing was for sure; you’ve never trusted anyone else with your heart (or body) since then. Only Bucky. But it looked like not even he deserved it.

…

»Fuck!« He punched the concrete wall of the building he was standing next to –leaving a hole– after landing on your voicemail once again for the nth time.

He felt horrible. Not being able to reach you. Not knowing where you were. Not being able beg you for forgiveness. And worst of all; not knowing what to do without you.

Pt.2

Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky moodboards

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cumulo-stratus · 1 year ago

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Communication Issues

(GIF NOT MINE)

Plantonic!BAU team x french!reader

Description: reader is from France and lived there until he was 11/12 and then moved to america and his first language is french. He also has a little bit of an accent. Basically reader is new to the team and it is their first late night back home on the jet with him. And basically they learn that when hes tired he reverts back to his mother tongue.

CW: possible swearing, I can't think of anything else

A/N: I'm thinking of making a series about this, like just funny scenarios related to the reader being French, if y'all have any ideas let me know! Also reader is gonna be loosely based off me when im rly tired cus i get kinda giggly/floppy/goofy. ( also sry it's short)

French, translation

3rd person POV:

after a hard, and long case the team was very ready to go home. They had found a 9 yr old girl and rescued her from a man holding her in his basement to torture her. And even though it took the profilers almost 3 full days with almost no sleep to find her. To say they were tired was understatement. It was almost 2 am when they trudged onto the plane, all tired physically and emotionally. Y/N was the last on the plane and decided to take the couch to get some sleep. Just as he was sitting down Reid plopped down next to him. (Y/N and Reid liked to sit next to each other so they could read together)

“Désolé reid, je veux lire avec toi, mais je suis trop fatigué pour ça” (sorry reid, i wanna read with you but im too tired for that) you said to him, slightly slurring your words. “Huh?” Spencer looked up at you with a small crease between his eyebrows. The switch in language caught the rest the rest of the team off guard as well (evidently by the looks on their faces) you peered at them just as perplexed and asked “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” (Whats wrong?).

“Dont worry guys I’ll talk to him” said spencer with a little giggle at his new friends antics. Morgan gave spencer a little knowing look and eyebrow wiggle at his conversation with Y/N, despite having no idea what they were saying. “Mon biche, tu parle français maintenant, pas anglais.” (Darling, you’re speaking french right now, not english) says spencers with a small smile. a look of understanding dawned your features and you said “je suis?! Oh c'est pas grave, Oh, tu n'as besoin que de me comprendre de toute façon.” (I am?! Thats okay, you’re the only one who needs to understand me anyways) you say with a wink ad a giggle. Spencers cheeks went red and emily gave him a questioning look. “Y/N, tu fais quoi?” (y/n, what are you doing?). you just gave him a mischievous look before putting your head on his shoulder and snuggling into him to fall asleep. The rest of the team got bored of making fun of the pair and began their own conversations or trying to sleep. But after a minute or two the team heard and hushed but strict “shhhhh!” coming from their resident genius. “You guys are so loud! hes asleep!” said spencer’s while he gestured vicariously to the sleeping figure drooped over his left side. “hush up pretty boy, your little boyfriend over theres out cold dont worry about it.” said derek with a teasing smile. spencers cheeks turned even more red than before if hat was even possible and started stuttering about the sleep man not being his boyfriend. “okay, okay, hes not your boyfriend,” said derek with his hands up in surrender after spencer kept spluttering on about y/n not being his boyfriend.

(small time skip)

As the plane landed people began packing up their things and getting ready to get off the plane. But y/n and Spencer had moved and when the team looked over they found the two agents passed out on top of each other and snoring lightly.

THE END

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x male reader #Criminal minds x French reader #Criminal minds x autistic reader #French reader #French speaking reader #bau team #Bau #Male reader #ftm reader #Spencer reid #spencer reid x male reader #Spencer reid x ftm reader #Spencer reid x French reader

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mushyblushyredhead · 2 months ago

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TickleTober 2024 🎃

♡ Aug’s TKTober2024

DAY 18: Tickle Fight

“You Can Relax”—an SCP Foundation Story

♡ Also available on my FanFiction! (Autobot-Tiff)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: It is late at night of the weekend Travis sought sanctuary at the SCP Foundation, but he is still anxious to go to sleep. It’s everyone’s favorite SCP, 999, to the rescue. Takes place in its own timeline at the Foundation, in an AU. This is a tickle fic, obviously. X3

TW: Mentions of past abuse.

Travis Blanche belongs to me!

Agent Simon Fisher belongs to my best friend who has allowed me to use their OC for this story. :3

A/N: Apologies if there’s any errors with the French words that are written throughout this story. Although I do not speak French (kinda wish I did) I did my absolute best translating some words and phrases so forgive me if they’re not all correct.

A rather eventful week had occurred for Dr. Travis Blanche and the batch of anomalous kids he had saved. In actuality, the last six months have been nothing but eventful, but not as much as the previous week that took place. So much had happened in the span of one week; teaming up with the SCP Foundation—a place he was told and believed was the enemy—to rescue a group of anomalous children he once took care of who were being physically altered and bid to be used as living weapons.

Despite the many setbacks and near casualties, in the end, Travis and the Foundation had successfully managed to rescue the kids and shut down the evil Foundation for good. Everyone who was a part of that operation were already taken into custody and being dealt with, courtesy of the Foundation. It seemed everything was going to be okay finally, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for someone in particular.

That night, one of the MTF squadron captains, Captain Simon Fisher, had been casually strolling down the hallways in the middle of his evening patrol, when he noticed light coming from one of the lounge rooms up ahead. That’s odd, he thought. Who could be up at this late hour?

Curious, he cautiously peeked inside the doorway and his eyes widened when he saw their newest Foundation member, Travis, was the one awake. He was sitting alone at the lounge table, listening to his Walkman, and clutching a mug of steaming tea with an exhausted and nervous look on his face.

How long has he been up like this? Simon wondered. Is he not happy to be here after everything that happened? He hoped not. After all the crazy things that everyone had been through, the SCP Foundation had graciously offered a permanent sanctuary for Travis and the children he helped save. Although Travis was skeptical about having the kids stay in containment chambers as SCPs, everyone assured him that the kids would all be treated with care, given proper housing and food, and would no way ever be abused like they were before. They even offered Travis a dorm room to stay in at the Foundation site so he could still be close to the kids and see them whenever he pleased.

That seemed to calm his overprotective nerves, but the young scientist still had trouble fully relaxing. It was obvious he was still traumatized after everything they went through. Despite being safe at the Foundation, Travis couldn’t put his overthinking mind to rest. What if the evil Foundation wasn’t defeated entirely? What if they still had another secret base somewhere that they didn’t know about? What if they had more anomalous children hidden underground? What if they would eventually find out where he was?!

Travis clutched his mug tighter, shaking his head. He just couldn’t shake off the fear. He knew from his previous time with these people that they had such volatility. He often compared them to the Galactic Empire from Star Wars; that evil foundation was able to bounce back from scratch like the second Death Star being built. He worried for himself, the kids especially. He would never want to break his promise and put them in any sort of danger again.

In an attempt to calm his anxious mind, Travis tried making himself some maple tea while listening to his Walkman. It was usually a good remedy whenever he couldn’t sleep, except tonight it didn’t seem to be working. He kept taking sips of the hot liquid, but couldn’t taste a thing. His mind just could not stop racing.

Agent Fisher could not bear to watch the poor scientist like this. It was so heartbreaking to witness. Travis deserved a break, just like those kids deserved a proper home and childhood. But even here, in the safety of the SCP Foundation site, he was still scared. And the officer couldn’t blame him. The poor guy probably thought the evil foundation was going to jump through the walls at any moment and harm him. After suffering in that cruel environment for so long, who wouldn’t still be scarred?

But at the same time, everyone hoped that Travis could learn to relax a little at the site now that he was safe. The kids has already settled in their new rooms just fine, happy to call the SCP Foundation their new home. If only Travis felt like doing the same same…

Not wanting the poor sleep deprived scientist to suffer any longer, Simon walked into the lounge room and waved to get Blanche’s attention. Travis jumped, startled, but his body relaxed when he saw a familiar face. Pulling off his headphones, Travis forced a smile on his face. “Oh, good evening, Captain Fisher, sir.”

“Hm, good morning is more like it,” Simon stated back, gesturing to the clock on the wall. “It’s 3:30 in the morning. Why are you still up?”

“Why are you up?” Travis countered back.

Simon quirked a brow. “Because I’m in the middle of my night shift,” he replied as-a-matter-of-factly. “But seriously, is something wrong, Dr. Blanche? I thought you had retired to bed along with the kids hours ago.”

Travis weakly chuckled. “First of all, no need to address me as Doctor all the time. Just Travis is fine.” Simon nodded understandingly. “Second,” Travis shrugged with a sigh. “Can’t sleep, I guess. I…guess I am still shaken up after everything that happened recently. I still have nightmares; nightmares of…them. Of what they d-did to me…to the kids..!” He heaved a shaky sigh. “I don’t know, I just—can’t seem to erase that from my mind. A part of me is still afraid that they’re still out there, waiting to come after m-me and the kids..!”

Travis quickly turned his head away as tears were threatening to spill from his eyes. He cursed himself for getting so emotional so quickly. He hated crying in front of others. But Simon didn’t mind. He rested a delicate hand on the scientist’s shoulder, squeezing affectionately. Travis turned around, meeting Agent Fisher’s warm eyes.

His smile was comforting and his voice was gentle. “Hey, I get what you’re going through. I really do. None of us here are expecting you, nor the kids, to get over what happened to you all so quickly. That’s traumatizing, and that’s not something you can simply get over overnight.” He squeezed Blanche’s shoulder once more. “But, know this: you do not have to carry this burden alone like you did before. You’re safe here, and you know we would never let anything happen to you guys. You’ve got to believe that.”

Travis nodded softly. “I know. I know you all mean well, and I am so very grateful for you all to let us stay here…even after everything before…”

“Hey, what’s past is past, kid. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“Thank you. I…just wish I could stop having these nightmares. These people are defeated and yet it still seems like they torment me.” Travis groaned and rested his head against the table. “That’s why I’ve been listening to my music and drinking some maple tea. It’s usually a good remedy when I have trouble getting to sleep, but tonight it’s not as effective.” He sighed miserably. “I suppose I just won’t sleep tonight. But that’s alright…I’m sure I can busy myself for the remainder of the night by working on one of my unfinished projects. Maybe that will tire me out.”

Simon couldn’t believe what he just heard. Travis was really willing to work himself to exhaustion because of his nightmares? He pitied for the poor scientist. But what else could he do? His words didn’t seem to help.

And then suddenly, it clicked. “SCP-999!” He suddenly blurted his thought out loud.

“Huh?” Travis tilted his head.

Simon cleared his throat. “I meant to ask this earlier, but…have you had the chance to interact with SCP-999 yet? Or at least read its file?”

“Actually, no. I assumed since I am new here, I don't get to read any of the files you have for these SCPs like library books."

The agent chuckled. “Yes, well, there’s certain files that are classified for good reasons. But there’s files that newbies like you can read, like SCP-999’s file, for example.” He paused. “Funnily enough, the kids got to interact with 999 the other day and they loved it! They even requested another session with 999 as soon as possible,” he added, as if he thought that would convince Dr. Blanche.

Travis’ heterochromatic eyes lit up, intrigued. “Oh, really now? I’m assuming it’s a safe anomaly then?”

Simon nodded. “Oh, of course. One of the safest and harmless anomalies on this site. In fact, 999 is more than just a safe class anomaly. It’s actually therapeutic; simply touching 999 can bring immediate euphoria that intensifies the longer you are exposed to it. Heck, the euphoria lasts long after separation from the anomaly. Everyone here, myself included, has had at least one encounter with SCP-999, and it’s helped us all greatly when we were struggling mentally. I really think you would benefit from one visit with 999.”

Travis seemed hesitant and unsure. “Uhh…well…I-I’m not sure.”

Simon gave him an encouraging smile. “C’mon Travis. I really think this would do you good. SCP-999 loves all people, but has a special interest in those who are hurt, depressed, or suffering from PTSD. It’s no wonder why it wanted to interact with the kiddos immediately when they arrived here. And I know it will want to interact with you, too. Let 999 help you, Travis…Just this once? If you like it, you like it. And if you don’t, that’s okay, too. Although I find it damn impossible that anyone would be able to say they disliked their encounter with 999.” He chuckled again. “What do ya say?”

Travis gave in with a sigh. “Oh, all right. Just hurry up before I change my mind.” Simon nodded, taking Blanche by the hand and leading him out into the hallway.

A therapeutic anomaly that seems to cure depression and trauma? Well, I’m not at the evil foundation anymore, Travis joked to himself. If the kids enjoyed their encounter with this SCP-999 then maybe I will, too? Fisher would never lie to me. Could this anomaly really help me with my nightmares and PTSD? I guess we’ll see. *sigh* Whatever, just get this over with quickly. What’s the worst that can happen?

“Here we are.” Simon’s voice abruptly snapped Travis out of his thoughts. They had arrived at SCP-999’s containment chamber. While the agent stepped aside to quietly have a word with the security officers and another researcher over comm. link, (no doubt requesting permission to allow him to see 999 at this hour) Travis suddenly grew nervous.

Despite being told that 999 was a safe class anomaly, the thought of meeting an entirely new anomaly that he knew nothing about was enough to make him anxious. Normally, he liked to know at least a little bit of background of an anomaly before he charged headfirst into interacting with it. Now he was really starting to regret not taking the time to read more on 999’s file before coming here. But he had nothing to worry about, right? If the kids said that they had fun with this creature, then he would trust their judgement.

He was snapped out of his thoughts again when Simon handed him a top tab office folder. “What’s this?”

Simon smiled apologetically. “The entire information file for SCP-999. I should have given this to you first so you could read it over. But you can still read it when you’re inside 999’s chambers. Y’know, learn along the way.” He winked, smiling.

Travis blinked. He could have sworn he detected something sinister in Fisher’s tone when he said that. Like he knew something that he didn’t yet. Did he set him up?

“Well, go ahead,” Simon urged. “Go cure that trauma. We’ll be right outside monitoring everything in case you need us, but you’ll be fine.” He and the other security guards seemed to be stifling back laughs. Travis frowned. They were definitely setting him up for something. Why couldn’t they just tell him what it was already? After spending so much time at the previous evil foundation, he grew to hate surprises. Even good ones because in the end, they never turned out to be good.

As Travis stepped through the doorway, Simon quickly added, “Oh, and don’t forget to read that file! Better read it quick!”

Travis shot him an incredulous look, but opened the file nonetheless. Alright let’s see…Item #: SCP-999. Object Class: Safe…Special Containment Procedures…yada yada…File Name…wait WHAT?! The Canadian scientist’s heart skipped several beats. File Name: The Tickle Monster.

He quickly spun around, locking eyes with Agent Fisher, who merely just waved with a smile that said “sorry not sorry” before shutting the door.

This was a setup! He had been duped! Bamboozled! “Fisher!” Travis growled, banging on the door. “You set me up! You…You mother-honking HOSER!”

Okay, okay. Don’t freak out. This…This has gotta be some kind of blizzard joke, right?

Travis didn’t know why, but something about reading that file name quickened his pulse and made anticipatory butterflies fill his belly. Something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. He was flustered.

His train of thought was interrupted when the sound of high-pitched gurgling sounded behind him. He whipped around, his blue and green eyes widening at what was in front of him: a large, gelatinous blob of orange slime with big black orbs for eyes that seemed to shimmer like puppy eyes. Travis didn’t know what to think. This was supposed to be the site’s so-called “Tickle Monster��? It certainly didn’t look like anything he had pictured. But he knew from experience that looks can be deceiving; something so innocent-looking could be extremely dangerous.

“Um…h-hello there,” Travis shyly waved to the anomaly. The creature happily chirped, and slithered towards the young scientist. Travis gasped and backed away until his back hit the wall. SCP-999 emitted a confused gurgle and stopped in its tracks. It suddenly seemed concerned from Travis’ reaction.

Taken back, Travis tilted his head and was surprised when the orange creature mimicked his movement. Curious, he tilted his head to the other side, and it copied his movement. Travis blinked twice, and 999 also blinked twice. Feeling a little more relaxed, Travis knelt down to its eye level. “Huh. Well, you’re quite the precocious little anomaly, aren’t you?” 999 let out a happy coo. “You know, I’ve never encountered an anomaly like you before. I was actually told by Agent Fisher that you could help me with my recent nightmares and PTSD?” 999 perked up, bobbing its gelatinous dome head up and down like jello. “I take that as a yes then? So—oh?”

999 slithered closer to the scientist, extending a pair of orange pseudopods and wrapping them around his neck. Emitting cooing and purring noises, the anomaly leaned close to nuzzle against the young man’s chest. Immediately, Travis was hit with a wave of mild euphoria, just like Fisher had said. But that was not all. Travis also detected something on 999’s gelatinous surface; there was a pleasant odor. It smelled like…fresh pine trees from the forests of his hometown in Canada. Along with the scent of freshly baked chocolate cake from Tim Horton’s, his favorite dessert.

Travis felt like crying, but they were happy tears. All this comfort and nostalgic scents this anomaly was giving him was unlike anything he ever felt before. He let out a shaky sigh, allowing his body to fully relax and melt against the warm embrace. 999 simply took that as its cue to continue nuzzling Travis like a kitten, all the while continuing to purr and coo lovingly.

It wasn’t until he felt 999’s orange tendrils suddenly tighten around his torso that he started to feel nervous. “Sacré bleu!” He exclaimed. “I uh, heh, almost forgot the other thing that makes you so infamous here…Now I’m starting to see why Agent Fisher set me up with this little…play date,” he muttered that last part under his breath.

999 simply chirped and glomped the scientist, ready to engage in one of its favorite activities it was best known for: tickle wrestling. Travis, already anticipating the oncoming attack, let anticipatory fear get the best of him and managed to wriggle out of the creature’s near death grip. Giggling breathily, he stood up on shaky knees to try and escape. Except there was nowhere else to go. He was trapped in a containment chamber with a very playful anomaly that look like it wanted to tickle the ever living daylights out of him.

With a wobbly smile already visible on his face, Travis shakily tried to make a run for it. 999 excitedly chirped, thinking Travis wanted to play chase! It gurgled enthusiastically, beginning to chase after the flustered scientist who, in return, bolted away.

Outside the containment chamber, Agent Fisher and the other security officers were laughing at the cartoon spectacle from their security tablets: Dr. Blanche running laps around the room while SCP-999 followed close behind, trying to grab him with his pseudopods.

“Oh mon dieu! Mon dieu! N-No! Don’t! Don’t you dare!” Travis exclaimed behind him. He heard the creature emit a series of chirps, but he could’ve sworn it sounded like it was taunting him; laughing at him.

He suddenly heard Simon‘s voice from the overhead speakers. “C’mon, Blanche! We brought you here to interact with 999, not to run away from it!”

“Firstly, you never said anything about this anomaly being a Tickle Monster!” Travis shot back as he did another lap around the room. “And second! I am not letting said monster…well…tickle me..!”

“And why not? You wouldn’t happen to be…ticklish, would you~?”

The blush on Travis’s face said it all, yet he still denied it. “N-No..! I’m not!”

“Then quit trying to escape if you’re not ticklish.”

Ohhh how Travis so desperately wanted to make Agent Fisher eat those words. He knew he couldn’t keep running in circles forever; he was already sleep deprived and was losing strength in his knees. Cursed his flustered state. It’s not that he didn’t want to be tickled, he didn’t know if he was ticklish in the first place. Up to this point in his life, he couldn’t recall a time where he had ever been tickled. And now, getting a chance to experience it for the first time, he was trying to avoid it. But yet at the same time, he secretly wanted it to happen. He wanted to experience that silly, uncontrollable feeling that he recalled reading about during his early days of becoming a doctor. Unfortunately, his fight-or-flight instincts got the best of him.

He didn’t have time to debate it any further because he yelped in surprise when something suddenly wrapped around his ankle, tripping him. Whipping his head around, he saw 999 had one orange tendril wrapped around his ankle like a lasso. It chirped and tittered as if to say, “got you!”, and proceeded to envelope its victim’s boot and calf into its gelatinous body.

Travis yelped again in alarm at the feeling of feeling his lower leg being swallowed by this orange slime anomaly. He grimaced. This creature wasn’t seriously planning on eating him instead, was it? His question was immediately answered when his knee was engulfed in the slime trap next. Instead of feeling a row of hidden razor, sharp teeth tear into his flesh, he felt something entirely different; as soon as the orange slime touched his knee, Travis felt a fluttery almost feather-like feeling, followed by a growing bubbling sensation in the pit of his stomach. The urge to laugh.

Qu’est-ce que c’est?! Is this really what being tickled feels like?

Reflexively, Travis began kicking out his trapped leg, trying to free it. Except he couldn’t. He was taken back at how strong 999’s grip was. No matter how much he twisted and yanked and pulled on his leg, he couldn’t break free. 999 simply cooed a response, no doubt teasing about how he wasn’t going anywhere.

Kicking his way out wasn’t going to work. In fact, it only seemed to make the situation worse because the fluttery feeling around his knee simply increased. It spread behind his knee and even squeezed around his knee joint, making him reflexively kick out his other leg that was free. He was worried at first if all his uncontrollable kicking would hurt the anomaly; he didn’t want to accidentally kick 999 in its eye or mouth and hurt it. Fortunately, his kicks didn’t seem to harm the anomaly in any way. Its orange slimy surface seemed to absorb any blows it received, seeming to be indestructible.

Travis stubbornly clapped a hand over his mouth, refusing to crack. Blush was already starting to reach the tips of his ears. Could this get any worse?

Apparently, it could.

999 right away noticed the stubborn scientist trying to muffle his laughs as well as his fruitless attempts at trying to escape on his one free leg. So it simply caught his other flailing leg in its slime, swallowing it, too. It wasted no time and began tickling behind and around the scientist’s knees.

Travis couldn’t hold it back any longer. Having his other leg held into place and subjected to the same tickly feeling behind his knee ultimately made him crack.

“Kkthpbblt..! …MmHHHmhmhEEAAAhehahaha! W-Wahahait! Nohohoho!”

“Well, that certainly didn’t take as long as I thought,” Simon’s voice cut in over the speakers again. “I thought it would take longer for you to crack around SCP-999, but it looks like it doesn’t take more than a minute. Good to know!”

“Ohoho shuhuhut uhuhuhup!” Travis pressed through giggles. He hated to admit it, but he was really hoping he would be able to outlast 999’s playful attack. This just proved he really was a super ticklish person. He just hoped the kids would never find out about this…

999, pleased that its victims was finally laughing, decided to continue and increase the ticklish feeling. Still keeping the scientist’s legs in place, it suddenly leapt on top of him, tickling all over his torso with its tendrils.

Travis let out a rather girly shriek as he felt a weight suddenly on top of him. But that quickly switched to loud, bright laughter when he felt his entire torso being scribbled and poked erratically. There were tendrils squeezing and poking his sides, vibrating against his rib cage, tracing across his stomach, and even trying to slip under his arms. And all the while, his lab coat and purple dress shirt did nothing to protect his sensitive skin.

“WaHAAAHAHAIT! AAAH! HehehAAAHAHAHA! N-Nohoho! AAAAH! EEEHEHEHEEHEE! S-StAAAHAHAHAP! WHAAAA! Mon dieu! OH MON DIEU! OH MON DIEU! D-Don’t you dahahahare!”

Travis frantically batted at 999’s dome head as he felt sneaky tendrils trying to untuck and unbutton his purple dress shirt. Ignoring his panicked request, 999 swiftly yanked up his shirt, undid the buttons, and pushed the fabric aside to expose the pale belly underneath.

999 immediately buried its face against the warm surface, nuzzling and nipping and extending two more tendrils to furiously dig under the doctor’s arms.

“NonononAAAAAAHAHAHAHAO!! ARRÊTER! ARRÊTER! A-ARRÊHEEHEEHEETER!! NAAAAHEEEEHEEHEEHEE!! NAHAHAHAO PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEASE!!”

Travis screeched and squealed, trying to twist away from this evil tickle attack but it was no use. 999’s grip was like a boa constrictor’s. And it made sure he couldn’t escape because any attempt he made, resulted in the creature mercilessly tickling another bad spot he didn’t know about.

The tickly nibbles on his belly made him want to reflexively curl and protect that spot, but the second he tried to curl inward or on his side, 999 immediately dug and vibrated against his spine, forcing him to uncurl once again.

“EEEEHEEHEHEEEEEK!! STAAAAHEEHEEHEE!! S’il vous plaît! StAAHAhap doihihing thahahat!” Travis giggle-whined as 999 made him uncurl again. “Thahahat’s soho nohohot fahahahair!”

999 simply tittered at his response, clearly enjoying the playful suffering it was putting the young scientist through. But it wanted to hear more of his sweet, childlike laughter.

So it inched its face higher so it could bury its face against his neck. Travis let out another high-pitched squeal when the side of his neck was attacked with tickly nibbles. Even 999 simply purring against his neck tickled just as bad.

“EEEEEEHEEHEEHEEEEEK!! NAAAAHEEHEHEEHEE!! NOHOHO PLEAHEHEEHEEHEASE!!”

He tried scrunching up his shoulder to protect his sensitive neck, but that in turn made 999 nibble at the other side of his neck.

Travis gave up trying to protect his neck, settling for trying to guard his torso and underarms instead. The scientist tried to clamp his arms down while attempting to button his shirt back up. Or at least try to get it to cover his stomach once more.

But 999 noticed his attempts, and released his neck, diving back to tickle his belly again.

“Wait! WAHAHAHAIT! NON! NOHOHON! NAHAHAT AGAAAHAHAHAIN! S’il vous plaît! S’IL VOUS PLAÎT! Go bAHAHACK to my neheheheck again!”

But 999 didn’t listen. It came to the conclusion that this was clearly a bad spot for Travis, and that just encouraged it to stay here!

The poor flustered doctor frantically batted at 999’s head like an angry kitten, trying to get it anywhere else but his stomach. This couldn’t possibly get any worse, could it?

One sneaky stray tendril brushing over his navel did it. Travis screeched and accidentally sucked in a breath too quick, he snorted. Even 999 paused its tickly assault to gurgle curiously and tilt its head like a confused puppy.

Blush consumed Travis’ entire face as he hid behind his hands, clearly embarrassed at the weird sound he just emitted. He never even knew could make such silly sounds like that.

Intrigued, 999 lightly brushed over the scientist’s bellybutton. Travis jolted like he had been electrocuted, emitting another muffled snort behind his hands. He frantically shook his head and babbled incoherently as he felt 999’s tendrils peel his hands away from his face, pinning them up next to his head.

“Nonononononono! Oh mon dieu! Oh mon dieu! N-No! Don’t..! Don’t you dare! Don’t! You! Dare!”

999 cheekily tittered, bringing the single tendril back to softly trace circles around his tummy, slowly inching towards his bellybutton.

“Oh MON DIEU! NahaHAHAHAO!” Travis panicked as the tendril traced agonizing circles around the little spot, his tummy quivering madly. His stomach was tingling with so much anticipation; it felt like he just ate a swarm of live butterflies.

Travis tried curling up on his side and sucking in his stomach as much as he could to avoid that evil tendril, but his efforts were useless. 999 simply grabbed onto his hips, and straightened him back onto his back.

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwait! Je t’en prie! NO! D-Don’t..!” Travis screamed like if he was being murdered before laughing his hardest as 999’s tendril plunged into his bellybutton and wiggled rapidly. “AAAAAAAHEHEHAAAAAAHAHAAAA!! OH MOHOHON DIEU!! *snort* NAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAO!! STAAAAAA—*snort*—HAHAHAHAHAAAAAP!! NAAAHEEHEEHEEHEEAAAHAHAHA!!”

Ohhh how Travis hated all the involuntary snorts he kept emitting between hysterics. He wished he could stop, but these accursed snorts were like a dam; once broken, there’s no stopping it. The poor doctor’s entire face was the color of a cherry tomato. His glasses were askew on his face from how much he was whipping his head from side to side. Tears were already threatening to spill from his tightly shut eyes. He was sure his sides were going to split any moment. But yet, despite all that, Travis was actually having fun. He was enjoying it.

He never recalled a time before this when he had genuinely laughed so hard. Well, maybe except that one time where he encountered his first cryptid, but did that really count? It was too short and too quick to even count it as a true experience. Here, being at the playful mercy of SCP-999, it felt different. Intense euphoria rushed through his entire body like adrenaline. In that moment, he couldn’t think of anything else but the ticklish torment. No fear, no nightmares, no trauma, no memories of his dark past, no sadness. Just pure joy. And, of course, the unbearable tickly assault on his navel. So embarrassing…

999 was very pleased that it was able to make Dr. Blanche make that funny, adorable snorting sound. It made him sound like a little piggy! Which 999 just couldn’t seem to get enough of. But it knew it had to stop soon. So, to finish it off, 999 engulfed Travis’ entire torso in its slime, vigorously vibrating its surface; the equivalent of giving multiple big raspberries.

Travis just about died. To him, his entire torso was being assaulted from all angles by these evil raspberries. His sides, his ribs, just right below his underarms, his upper and lower stomach, his waistline, and his bellybutton all at once.

His laughter went silent for a moment before he snorted rather loudly, and laughed his absolute hardest. “…AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHEEHEHAHAHAAAAAA!! NAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!! *snort* NOHOHON!! NOHON S’IHIHIL VOUS PLAAAAA—HAHAHA—PLAIT!! *snort* STAAAAAAHAHAHAAAA!! *snort* NINE NIHIHINE NIIIIIHIHINE!! PLEEEEEAAHEEHEE—*snort* JE T’EN PRIE—HEEHEEHEEHEEEEEE!! I-I CAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAKE IHIHIHIT ANYMORE!! *snort* JE T’EN PRIE!! JE T-TAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!! JE T’EN PRIE!! *snort* PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEASE!! STAAAAAHAHAHAHAP!! NOHOHO MOHOHOHORE!!”

Hearing the desperate cry and feeling Ike he had had enough, 999 finally released Dr. Blanche. It sat next to him, quietly gurgling while waiting patiently for Travis to recover. Travis laid there motionless on the floor for several long minutes, panting heavily. His hair was a mess and his glasses were crooked on his forehead. He just wanted to get the air back into his lungs. 999 nudged and softly cooed at the scientist. It seemed like it wanted to check and see if he was okay.

Travis slowly sat up, clutching his sore stomach. He fixed his glasses before meeting 999’s concerned gaze, giving it a warm smile. “Hey, don’t feel bad. You stopped right when I needed you to. It’s all good, okay? I actually feel a lot more better now thanks to you, 999.” 999 chirped happily, glomping the doctor in another tackle hug.

“Aaah! Sacré bleu! Non! Don’t go starting this whole little chaotic game of yours again!” Travis nervously joked. As fun as that whole tickle game was, he didn’t want to be the victim of another one again. At least, not right now.

999 tittered and slid down to cuddle in the scientist’s lap, purring like a cat. Travis chuckled and began buttoning his now wrinkled shirt back up. When that was done, he rested a delicate hand on top of 999’s head, who purred louder. Then, just to be cheeky once more, 999 tittered like a gremlin and shoved its head underneath the purple shirt. Travis let out a surprise squeal at the feeling of a purring mouth pressing threateningly against his bellybutton again. “N-NAAAhahao! Pleaheeheehease nohohot again! Misericorde! Misericorde!”

Fortunately, 999 took pity on the poor tired scientist and slithered out of his shirt. Travis let out a huge sigh of relief. He had to admit, despite being tickle tortured for what felt like an eternity, he was feeling a lot happier than he had ever been in a long time. It felt like the biggest weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he could breathe again. His mind didn’t feel so foggy with nightmares or visions of his past anymore. In fact, he couldn’t even recall his nightmares or any other negative thoughts. He felt genuine euphoria and this mild feeling of optimism; that same optimism that any happy kid would have, like he was sure everything was going to be okay from now on.

“Thank you, 999,” Travis whispered to the anomaly. “I mean it. You really helped me with something I never thought I would be able to let go. Thank you for that.” 999 beamed and happily gurgled as if to say “you’re welcome”.

After all that laughing and screeching and squirming, and being sleep deprived, Travis’ remaining strength and energy had been sapped up. He couldn’t stifle back the big yawns. He longed for the comfort of his bed, but was far too tired to even get up. Even his eyelids were starting to droop.

999 noticed how visibly exhausted the scientist looked so it carefully lifted and cradled him, carrying him to the door.

“Annnd that’s our cue that Dr. Blanche’s ‘play date’ with 999 has finally ended,” Simon stated, nodding to the personnel to fetch their sleepy victim.

“Okay, 999, hand him over. We’ll take it from here,” one of the guards spoke.

999 emitted a little whine and hugged Travis closer. Simon chuckled, knowing that reaction far too well. “Don’t worry, 999. You’ll get your chance to play with Blanche again another time, okay? Right now, he really needs to get some sleep.” 999 cooed understandingly and released the doctor.

Simon helped Travis stand up, and assisted him back to his dorm room. He had to bite back another laugh because he honestly felt like he was lugging a drunk friend back home. “So…didn’t I tell you this would be a great experience? Learn on the job, eh?” Simon joked.

Travis rolled his eyes, blush coating his cheeks again. “Oh, shut up, ya hoser! You’re a filthy, lying…dip twit!” He tried to sound mean, but the smile on his face proved otherwise.

“Aw, c’mooon! No ‘thank you, Fisher, for making me experience my first meeting with the Tickle Monster?’”

Travis sputtered and blushed harder. “Stohohop saying that!”

Simon couldn’t help but tease. “Why? Is it the Tickle Mosnter part that gets you flustered or just hearing the word tickle?”

Travis giggle-whined, burying his face against the older agent’s shoulder. “Staaaaahahahap! Just…stohohop sahahaying thaaaat!”

“Haha! I knew it!” Simon laughed. “It does fluster you! You just seem too adorable to be a researcher here.” He ruffled the younger scientist’s hair.

Travis giggled and batted at the other’s hand before muttering something in French that sounded like cuss words.

“Hey, hey, hey, watch the language,” Simon half-joked. “Or else I’ll throw you back into 999’s chambers and keep you there until tomorrow.” He poked him in the side. “Got that?”

Travis yelped and giggled once more. “Understood.”

“Good. Alright, well get some sleep, okay? We’ll be here for you tomorrow when you wake up, but no rush in getting up early. Sleep in if you’d like. You and the kids are going to need to fix that awful sleep schedule of yours, and it starts with getting proper rest.” Simon smiled and gave Blanche one last hair ruffle. “Sleep tight, kid.”

Travis sleepily smiled. “Thank you, sir. Good night to you as well. And…thank you…for everything. I never would have gotten through this without you and 999’s help.” He paused with a shy smile. “Especially 999’s.”

“Anytime, kid. Good night.”

“Good night.” Travis let out a happy sigh as soon as he closed his dorm door. “Wow…what a night!” He said to himself. “But at least I don’t have to worry about any nightmares anymore. Hopefully. And if not, then I’m sure I can go to 999 again…right? Oh mon dieu, whyyyy am I actually thinking about going back and willingly allowing 999 to…torture me again?! Geez! Now I’m getting all fluttery thinking about it!”

That fluttery butterfly feeling in his stomach came back at the mere thought of getting tickled by 999 again. He blushed when he remembered how Simon set him up with 999 earlier. Then his blush darkened when he realized that Simon and the other guards now knew of his silly weakness from watching him on the security footage. And all of the embarrassing sounds he could make when tickled in certain spots. Ohhh so embarrassing!

Travis just hoped that Simon and the others would keep their mouths shut and not mention this to anyone, especially to the kids. They didn’t need to know about this. If anyone found out, he would never live it down.

Shaking the thought off, Travis changed out of his work clothes. He slipped on a baggy black shirt that read: Area 51 Escapee in bright green lettering, and a pair of light gray pajama pants with UFOs on them. Then, he tossed his worn clothes into a heap by his bed before crawling into bed. He snuggled under the covers with a happy sigh.

Things were definitely going to be different from now on with him and the kids now joining the SCP Foundation family. But they were in a better place now, and they were free. They could finally be happy and together like the found family they always wanted to be. Granted, they were a very strange, albeit dangerous-looking family, but they were a family regardless.

Travis closed his eyes with a smile, dreaming about what games he was going to play with the kids tomorrow as soon as they all woke up.

THE END

#mushy writes stuff #my fic #tickle fic #sfw tickle fic #tickletober2024 #augtickletober2024 #scp foundation tickle #scp 999 #lee!oc #lee!travis #ler!999 #scp au #scp oc #travis blanche #tickle fight #tickle monster #oc tickles #sfw tickles #sfw tickling community

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keelt9 · 7 months ago

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Chapter 2

Masterlist

It’s what I like to call my day off; Anton gives me Sunday so I can rest and enjoy the day. I would love to see his face if he knows that instead of going out, I’m sitting in the living room seeing my little sister Mia struggling to brush her hair while we do our daily video call.

“That’s why you should use a conditioner.” Mia is a diver, even though she has practiced since she was 5 years old, she normally is careless with her hair, she takes a deep care of her body but her hair seems to be in another world. Mia keeps making funny faces as she tries to get the comb out of her hair.

“Auch!”

Liam even getting his keys, he chooses knocks first, waits for a couple of seconds and opens the door.

“Morning, morning.” Liam enters with my new supplies of ice bags, bigger ones.

“What about if…” As he passed to the kitchen leaving the bags in the cooler, he noticed who I’m speaking to. “Oh, hi Mia.”

Mia with a comb stuck in the top of her hair and taking a bite of her sandwich smiles and waves her hand.

“Hi Coach.” Liam smiles and lets us talk.

“Show me, show me.” My hands fake the sound of tambourine on the table, Mia takes out a silver medal under her shirt, she got it this afternoon. “Congratulations! Oh, I would love to be there.”

“I love having you here too, but first you need to recover, I mean, I want the next medal we celebrate be from you, and if I don’t ask too much, a golden one.” Mia is my personal cheerleader and I’m hers, since she was little it was easy to recognize her in my junior competitions for her big pink poster in the crowd.

“Breathe and feel the air in your lungs.” We spoke at the same time, the words our dad always repeated to us when we were so overwhelmed.

Talking about the king of Rome, we hear him shout for her. “I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?” Mia smiles before ending the call, still I was able to see her picking her sandwich and running to dad.

“Hey, you have really cleaned the apartment.” Liam is observing the kitchen and the living room, I stand not before grabbing the ice bag one more time and putting it over my shoulder.

“It’s my way to pass my free time.” Liam lends his head and his face turns serious. “Come on Liam! Don’t look at me like that, I go out for groceries… Oh! And I found a really nice place where they prepare delicious french toast.”

He doesn't need to tell me anything just grabs the keys one more time, takes the ice bag from me and drags me out of the apartment.

“Fuck” I whisper lowing my head not before dropping the scapular to the floor. “Sorry, it's just…”

“It’s ok Y/N, it’s a different exercise, take it easy.” This week the towel is left aside and I start to use the scapular, for a scapular stretch. To be honest I try to use scapulars.

“Here.” Liam gave me an ice bag, and lately it became my best friend. The ice bags help to reduce the swelling and minimize the pain, always wrap around a towel. “Let us talk a little, I will make sure to call you for a check up.”

That means they will talk about things I shouldn't hear, yet. So, I grab my bottle of water, my phone and the ice bag with me walking straight to the garden.

“That’s a better hack.” I turn around when I hear Max's voice. My bottle now has a strap avoiding it rolls out of my wrist.

“Oh, yeah, it makes my life easier.” Max nods and points to the chair next to me.

“Can I?” I nod so he can sit. “Are you all right? I mean, the ice bag is not a good sign, right?”

“It’s a small inflammation, I’m ok, thanks for asking.” I don’t want to mention right away anything he probably hears the first two minutes someone mentions when meeting him for the first time.

“You? Are you all right?” My questions take him by surprise but he presses his lips in a smile and nods.

“Just a little bit of physical conditioning.” The silence that follows, he cut it out with a question. “You mention about being ready, what do you mean?”

“Amm, well, there is a competition in a year, but the test begins in 10 months, so if I want to be there, first I need to be in the tests. It's a long story.”

“I love to hear it.” I am getting goosebumps all over my body.

We talked for 40 minutes, in the middle of our talk he already mentioned what he does and his really impressive achievements and his goals, naturally, not trying to brag about just as he’s telling his day by day.

I felt comfortable talking with him about my goals too, how I terribly miss grabbing a bow and shooting arrows over a field, even allowing myself to tell him things I usually don't tell anyone who I just meet.

“Y/N, ready?” Liam appears in the crystal doors with my bag over his shoulder and his in the other one.

“I have to go, thanks for listening to me.” The ice bag stops being ice now just a liquid gel forgotten in my lap.

“Please, thanks for hearing me too, Y/N” Max stands with me, however he remains in the garden as I walk where Liam is waiting for me.

“Ready.” I plan to take my bag but he moves faster and takes it out of my hands. “Is everything alright?”

Liam smiles and puts his hand carefully over my right arm. “Just good thighs, just good things. So…”

“HEY Y/N!” Max shouts at me. I don’t know if Liam recognizes Max or he is pretending not.

“I’ll wait for you outside.” Let me alone so Max can reach me.

“It’s ok if I… well… If I talk with you when we meet here, you know, just a simple talk.”

“Are you really asking me if you can talk with me?” Eyes hide just a little bit between his eyelids, smiling.

Can it be cuter?

“I mean, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.” He jokes, making me laugh.

“I'm already feeling the pressure.”

Max’s smile is contagious, now I know that.

That's how our small talk happens every time we meet in the center, varying each one of them; sometimes long, sometimes short but each time I get something meaningful from him and I give him something meaningful from me.

“That's nice! Well done Y/N.” My exercises of internal rotation have been pretty well, the swelling slowly decreases; Anton hopes in a few weeks, we will introduce advanced ones.

A soft knock on the door calls for our attention, one of the nurses of the center told us she has an envelope for me.

Mia has been sending me photos, not for email, not for a message, a palpable ones; for at least I make the apartment look a little bit like home.

“I have to fill some papers, I’ll wait in the reception.” By the time Liam ends that phrase leaving the room with Anton, the third beep of the call I made was interrupted.

“What about if instead of a boring Sunday shut in your four walls you spend a full package all included for a F1 race?” The train tickets, the name tag with my photo, and a strange brochure from 3 different restaurants are in my hand.

“Max, I really, really appreciate it…” He won’t let me reject him so easily.

“No, no, wait, let me finish, have you ever been in a F1 race?”

..............................................................................................................................

Thank you so much for reading.♥️

#fic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine

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bluetimeombre · 1 year ago

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What it would be like to date Timothee Chalamet:

First of all, as has been stated before, he’s like a horse. Always nudging you with his head and his curls. No matter what, no matter where,

We all know his love language is physical touch but i reckon also words of affirmation,

Dinner with friends, alone at home, in an interview, anywhere

(Please, you love it)

I just imagine him to be the best boyfriend ever,

He talks about you all the time because he just loves to experience everything with you and when he’s not around you he just wants everyone to know that he’s still you boyfriend,

Imagine in an interview and he’s just being asked something about his movie:

‘Yea it was great fun to film, loved working with the director (etc.) my girlfriend LOVES it,

He’d FaceTime you every night if he was away filming, just telling you about his day and asking about yours,

When he comes home from filming he drops his bags at the door and rushes to you with flowers,

You wear his clothes all the time,

(I think he’d enjoy wearing yours too)

He’d follow one person on instagram and that would be you,

His socials is basically a Fanpage to you,

I can imagine fans loving the two of you,

Like obviously there’s some who are super jealous but most love you,

He takes you to every premiere, arm around your waist, kissing you on the forehead every five minutes,

He wouldn’t even let go of you for solo pictures. If they want a picture of him, they get a picture of you too,

He’s also holding your hand during interviews, even if you’re standing away from each other, your arms are stretched out reaching,

He’s just be so happy around you,

He’d compliment you in French (I’d die)

Imagine you’re just sitting there doing work and he’s just babbling about you in French and you have no idea what he’s saying,

Because he’s so famous it’s hard to do dates so the two of you just walk around NYC and hang out at coffee shops whenever you can,

I like to think he’d also have a fascination with your hair. Having a sister and all he’d love to just brush through your hair after a long day,

You camera roll is just him taking ridiculous selfies and gorgeous poses,

I imagine if you were an actress to he’d always come to your premiers and just gush in your success and he’s post a picture of you on insta with a caption on how proud he is,

And when you two finally have nothing to film or nothing to promote you are around each other 24/7,

You guys will cook together, eat together, go food shopping together, go on walks together, gym together, bath together, shower together,

Literally not parted ever,

You guys share rings and you probably have some sweet ring with an engraving of his name or some loving phrase in French,

You go on holiday to italy every summer,

You are his best friend and visa versa!!

#timothée chalamet #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothee imagine #headcannons #love #i need him biblically #stop it #regulus black imagines #regulus black

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reverie-starlight · 1 month ago

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gn!reader, no physical descriptions but the fic states that reader doesn't drink often/is inexperienced with it and that they're a bit of a lightweight. the "very giggly but refuses to accept that they're inebriated" type of tipsy that's interesting to experience for the first time. fluff fluff fluff. also this should go without saying, but everyone including reader is over the legal drinking age.

I meant to post this back in august/september but never got around to finishing it. might as well do it now while I'm clearing out drafts!!

it's a bit of a rare sight to see you like this.

you don't drink often- a glass here or there when you're in the comfort of your apartment, or out at a restaurant with friends, but you're adamant about not going past that without some level of planning for it.

but tonight seems to be unfolding a bit differently than you anticipated. (he, however, saw this coming the second you got excited over how good your drink tasted and downed it on a nearly empty stomach.)

"I told you to eat something before we left," he said with a bit of a sing-songy tone. quite truthfully, he's never seen you this close to being drunk before and he's thoroughly amused with your behaviour.

you roll your eyes and lean back against your chair, watching your friend and her boyfriend on the dancefloor. "I'm not even drunk, baby, I barely had anything to drink. besides, she said she didn't like her drink and she offered me some!"

he snorts. the “barely anythings” in question were a lot stronger than you expected them to be. and it's true, your friend asked you to drink half of hers on top of your own so she wouldn't be forced to drink it all- apparently you were the only one at the table who actually enjoyed the taste of it.

the only issue is that the base of the drink was a type of juice he knows for a fact that you hate.

you would get tipsy trying to help out a friend, he thinks fondly.

his heart warms at your generosity, and also at the way you're now staring up at the ceiling with an analytical look on your face, like you're trying to solve a difficult math problem.

"y'know, I'm actually so fine," you seem to conclude.

he chokes on his soda, trying not to laugh at you. "yeah? so you could walk from here to the wall without stumbling even once, no issues?"

you try to match his gaze, but you see his raised eyebrow and dissolve into a fit of giggles, leaning forward to rest your head on the table. you've been doing that a lot tonight. you suddenly sit up straight, very serious look on your face. "okay, but to be fair, am I ever able to do that?"

he shakes his head with a slight smile. "okay, fair enough."

you frown and press your palm to your head. "ughhh, why am I so dizzy?" you whine. "it won't go away."

he quickly leans over and steals a few french fries from your friend's nearly empty plate, feeding them to you slowly. having a full belly doesn’t seem to be helping your state, but it’s the first thing he thinks of. "you wanna know what I think?"

you nod and rest your head against his shoulder.

"I think you're definitely not sober, sweetheart. despite what you're saying."

you look up at him with narrowed eyes. "fine... maybe just a bit... can we go home now?"

he thinks that's the most logical thing you've said since finishing dinner.

your friend must see him helping you stand up and grabbing your coat, because she quickly steps off the dance floor to assess the situation. "hey, are you guys leaving?"

your boyfriend nods. "yeah, I think I'd better get them home."

she takes in how you're leaning against him, eyes shut in an attempt to stop the temporary vertigo, and shares an amused look with your pillar before hugging you both goodbye. "get home safe, you two. call me if you need anything!" and then she's back on the dancefloor, her boyfriend waving from where he's stood.

"alright, baby, let's go."

you nod and try to lead the way, before reaching out behind you with a small "oh."

he's steadying you in an instant and making sure you're okay.

"c-can I just hold onto you until we get to the car?" you ask sheepishly.

he snorts and crouches down a bit to pick you up. You're definitely able to walk with his support, but quite honestly, he'd use any excuse to have you in his arms. "I wouldn't let you walk on your own right now even if you insisted."

you direct a dreamy sigh towards him. "you're so good to me, baby."

he's thankful you're more focused on the city's nightlife with a dazed expression than the pink blooming on his face.

ATSUMU, kuroo, kirishima, geto, isagi, akaashi

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yippee for rushed endings!!! I definitely had more planned for this fic but I can't remember exactly what those plans were LOL

i got tipsy/mildly drunk on vacation for the first time and it got me thinking about who'd be best at handling you while you’re inebriated. this is just a silly little fic *partially* based on true events. "I'm actually so fine" might've been my most repeated phrase of the evening. (I was in fact not fine)

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x reader fluff #bnha x reader fluff

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xhoky · 10 months ago

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° PE teacher

° still kinda bad at any kind of games, even if he is a somehow good PE teacher.

° The one who is most likely to get hit by a ball.

° at least he got used to it.

° Chara is a student that have good grades mostly on PE lesson (maybe a little bit on French lessons too bcuz he likes Ani more than other teachers).

° Chara is in ski team. He also Participates in championship matches, that's why he is really close to Cross in sports thing.

° Says that students should have better and healthier food rations, while hiding chips and chocolate under the desk (Coaches don't play).

° Nightmare: "You should think more when you throw the ball into the net! Look, it's easy"- while starting another physics lesson individually for Cross.

Cross: "You know I didn't understand a shit, right?"

° Literally can't tie his shoelaces and wears velcro sneakers.

° steals chocolate from other teachers (especially on teacher's day). Nightmare just give it to him cuz he doesn't like sweet anyway and Error doesn't mind when he does this.

° He can't steal sweets from Ink though. Bro won't allow him to do this.

° He doesn't hate Dream, he just doesn't like him as he is already in friend group with Nightmare (the one who actually mocking Dream) and Error. Just like Ink, Dream and Ani in their own group.

° one of a students gifted him a rainbow colored ball instead of usual orange/white. Now it's his favourite ball.

° He will allow students that don't want to attend PE lessons to sit on the bench. Also he belives every lie students say even if he hears it 100th time from the same kid.

° Loves penguins and also have penguin handmade pin from one of the students on his jacket.

#dreamswap #teacher au #ds #dreamtale au #undertale au #au #dreamswap cross #ds cross #fanart #art

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this-is-my-funny-reblogs-account · 2 years ago

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I didn't double read it or check this after writing. It's just pure - fast before I'd be too lazy to write this! So I'm sorry for any typos.

So y'all I'm typing this on my phone in English with Canadian French keyboard, before my hype dies out! This one is set in the @uselsshuman 141 families AU. I know that the idea behind the 141 wives is to keep them as blank slates for anyone to picture themselves but I can't help but give them distinguished personalities because why not 👀.

You can treat it a sort of

'what kind of girl I see each 141 guy with?'

Let's begin! I wrote those with civilian partners in mind 👀.

Warning: sex mentioned (it's a normal part of being in a relationship but minors better sit this one out)

John 'Soap' MacTavish

I picture him dating a daydreamer, someone who has imagination and a dash of wildness in her. Soap is an adventurous guy and he'd like to share this with his love. They definitely travel a lot together because world is beautiful and they want to experience it with one another.

Soap's girlfriend can allow herself to be a bit idealistic, with her mind in the clouds, because it keeps Soap's mind away from the harsh reality. In case he dies, she still will have a strong support system in his family, friends and community. She's not alone.

Their relationship is very affectionate and like a never ending honeymoon phase. Basically both of them are aware that what Soap does is dangerous and their relationship can end on a dime with his death. That's why they try to keep it constantly fresh and exciting. Who knows how long they can enjoy one another's company so they better spend it in the best possible way.

I think that they're the kind of couple that doesn't have big arguments. They're a team not rivals. Sure, Soap sometimes leaves the toilet lid open and his girlfriend tends to burn dinner a bit because she's been focusing on some random idea instead of paying attention but at the end of the day those things don't really matter - they're together for the good time and not necessarily long time (as in he can die at any moment, because those two are together for life.)

If any big arguments happen, they're regarding their son. As in "I know what's best for him" kind. Whenever arguing they do try to not yell at one another, and go to bed angry. Banishing to sofa doesn't really happen because both of them have hard time sleeping alone when they know their partner is nearby.

Sue me but I really like John dating a Polish girl 🫣 and I guess I'm not the only one. Soap surely gets protective of her and is ready to throw fists if anyone disrespects his missus. Sometimes he'd just annoy her how she's constantly grumpy because of the 'no smiling in public spaces' culture in her country. Other times he'd say she's like a model on a runway "because I'm so hot 😍? No, because you never smile 🤣. John!"

Their relationship is very physical, both romantically and sexually. They boink a lot and it is usually pretty funny. They do laugh a lot because sex is awkward sometimes and they are a playful couple altogether. Sometimes Soap will romance his way like Gomez Adams, other times he'd just put his penis on his girlfriend's shoulder while she's reading a book and say in a high pitched voice "hello" and that's his idea of charming his lady. I feel like they'd be the couple on a search for the most wacky condom. Neon green, glowing in the dark, and tasting like bacon - they've tried all of those.

MacTavish duo definitely cuddles a lot. Both at home and in public. It's not unusual to see Soap's girlfriend just nuzzling him or Johnny holding her tight and giving her forehead kisses.

Some might think that Soap's girlfriend is just a damsel in distress, waiting patiently for her prince charming - nothing further from truth. Since her boyfriend disappears for months, she has a life outside of the relationship. She goes to work, meets with her numerous friends (her skill of finding accidentally everyone's identity because she's friends with X wife is quite famous) and has her hobbies. She probably likes nature and keeps multiple plants (only after making sure those won't hurt their three cats) so her and Soap's place looks like a jungle on occasion. She might have some artistic hobbies like writing, painting or drawing. She's self sufficient on her own, but her life is better with Johnny.

She calms him down and grounds Soap in reality. After all she's mostly in Hereford so whenever Johnny gets back she informs him what has changed in the town or their house and how they're now doing certain things.

While Soap is a clown, she's his audience and even though she tends to react like she's annoyed with his antics, she loves how playful he is. Like Jessica Rabbit - he makes me laugh.

She's the disciplinary of the family, mostly because she knows that Soap won't be. He wants to be the fun dad for Fergus, because again he doesn't know how long he'll be there to cherish this life. Nevertheless, sometimes you have to lay down the rules and here's where Soap's girlfriend enters the scene. They're both pretty chill and loving parents though.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Simon's wife is pragmatic and doesn't accept any bullshit, she has a job to be done and that's her focus. Unlike Soap's darling, she's on her own if something happens to her husband, and she knew it upfront before getting into the relationship with him.

Ghost got serious with her because he knew that she can carry on if he's KIA, he knows she can handle his emotional baggage and his character. She's not the one to cry or complain about her life, she just gets shit done, no questions asked.

Sometimes she gets frustrated with Simon's bullshit (who wouldn't honestly) but she's the only person whose opinion really matters to Ghost. She can lift him up and knock him down like nobody else. She's equally calm and understanding person who soothes Ghost, and the force that pushes Simon to be a better person if he needs to be told off.

I think that's the main reason why he married her, she makes him a better person. She's strong but calm, patient but reasonably so, and she cares about him. He had difficult life and his upbringing was anything but perfect but this woman makes him care. She makes him feel something else than anger and pain and for that he's forever grateful.

Their love language is quality time but since they're unusual couple it's not what you think. Their home is their castle and they relax the best while at home. Even if their house is full of children they do bond together via chores. Soft conversations while folding the laundry together, sprinkled with jokes, Simon fixing the leaking pipe without being asked to do so, her making his favorite dish just because he'd enjoy this, cooking together - Simon as an ex-bucher appreciate would handle meat while his wife prepares veggies, on occasion they'd compte who can make their part of the dinner faster. Just mindlessly watching TV together with their dogs and commenting how ridiculous Come Dine with me is or how "this blonde chick should have picked Zack rather than Jacob! Zack at least tried, and prepared his dessert from scratch to impress her" while watching Dinner Date. Trash talking game shows participants is their definition of entertainment.

When his wife was expecting their first daughter Simon panicked. He was sure he'd be a horrible dad and kids aren't for him. His wife was quick to knock him down to Earth - you're a dad now so step up. She'd remind him that he's his own person and regardless of how shitty his dad was, he turned out to be a good guy and he's so caring he'll be an amazing dad.

Their sex life is a mess. I think they're the kind of couple that gets so into it that sometimes wrapping it takes a back seat. Hence the five children they have together. With brood this size, it's difficult to take time for the proper intimate time but they're doing with what they have. Unlike Soap and his girlfriend, Riley's have the bunny phase behind them. They still boink and it's still very satisfying when it happens, just with five kids it's not always possible. Sometimes they're just too tired and it's ok. There are days when Ghost doesn't feel like having sex and his wife gets it. Sometimes she's not in the mood and he's ok with that. Their need for intimacy can be fulfilled by just having a moment for themselves to cuddle and hold one another.

Mrs Riley has her own business. Idk why but I can see her having a very niche, online business. Like she's making stained glass windows and decorations. She has her own workshop and she's making money on her hobby. It lets her stay at home with her daughters (and later with her son) but she's not fully dependent on Simon's income.

I remember someone mentioning that she's an American so I'm going with that. She has the 'fish out of water' moments, even after years of living in the UK. Like the little moments of 'right, you guys do/don't do that'. She's probably fascinated how old/small everything is in England or how brick house are basically a standard instead of drywall.

Even though both she and Simon are similar when it comes to discipline, I think their children are more likely to ask her as she's a bit less strict than their dad. When her daughters start dating she's more calm about it. Simon isn't the shotgun dad, but he does feel uncomfortable that his girls are growing and he was often absent. He would do the whole "scary dad show" but it's nothing more than a show. He's not intimidating his daughters' boyfriends on purpose. It's like a by-product of him looking like a tree trunk. His wife definitely plays along and they later laugh about it together when the young couple leaves on their date. She also supports their kids no matter what and she's as proud of Lottie making a cake as she's from Aya getting an A from the test. She knows that her kids are different people and she supports their decisions and goals for the future.

Mrs Riley isn't much of a romantic soul. She'd take a practical gift over flowers any day. If Simon isn't there to fix something she'll do it herself because there's job to be done. She's a hard-working person and someone very practical. She's calm but not beyond calling her husband a dumbass if he deserves this. However, she'd never call him names when she can see he has one of his episodes. She's ultimately there to support him through thick and thin.

John Price

Mrs Price is the OG wife as a captain's spouse. She and Ghost's wife are the OG 141 wives so she's a bit like a mom-friend to the group. She's the closest to what a typical army wife would be (in non Karen way) as she's the only homemaker in the group.

She is a bit old fashioned, just like her husband she's in her late 30s. She's still a sassy lady so you better not underestimate her as she's the ultimate leader of all military wives in Hereford. Not because of her husband's position but because she's a nice person and a true leader. She's not the queen B who makes everyone bow down to her, but rather someone so helpful and wise that people are willing to follow her lead.

She's engages in her community and is always there to help, especially the new girls and guys who just learn what's like to be a spouse of a soldier. She organizes a lot of events and get-togethers for them so they'd develop a nice support system to comfort one another, whether it is because of the distance or death of the spouse. While Soap's girlfriend knows everyone on accident, Mrs Price knows people on purpose and can match friends perfectly.

She's from New Zealand so she does bond with Mrs Riley over being a non-European in Europe. She misses the Pacific Ocean, hence trips by the seaside are pretty common in the Price household. She makes sure her children are at least familiar with their Kiwi side.

She and her husband are something between MacTavish duo and Riley's when it comes to affection. They do like to stroll together, hold hands and share soft kisses, but you won't see them glued to one another like the MacTavish Turtledoves. However, she finds them adorable and likes to reflect on "young love" with her husband. Little does people know that back in the early 2000s when not-yet-captain Price was on his training in New Zealand he was quite a romantic when he tried to woo a nice, Kiwi lady. One could say that they were whipped for one another.

She's super confident in herself and her relationship, without being narcissistic. She knows where she stands with her marriage and she knows her value as a person. If anyone tries to knock her down from her throne, they're in for a surprise. Mrs Price is nice and very motherly but you don't want to get on her bad side. Remember she's a well respected member of the community and an influential figure without pulling the "My husband is a captain of an elite squad" card.

Her and her husband sex life is very fulfilling and they still keep things fresh. Just because they're reaching their 40s doesn't mean that the passion just died out. They might not have sex every day anymore but when it happens, oh boy they're definitely very VERY satisfied afterwards. Both sides try to look desirable for one another so no boredom in bedroom for sure. Price probably still keeps a sexy pic of his wife on him when he's deployed.

Even though Mrs Price is very wise and responsible for everyone she's not boring. She's pretty chill person who avoids conflicts. Like the perfect client who once told there's no chicken salad, instead of wanting to talk to the manager would just order Greek salad because people working in services have difficult job already. She likes to joke too and it's not uncommon to hear her make fun of herself or her husband.

She could run for a local politician office and would win because she's clearly the most competent person for this job. She's aware of this but we're back to her pretty chill personality - she doesn't want to. Official function would keep her busy and away from her family and friends. It would make her unhappy in the longer run. Just because she's not employed doesn't mean that she has no work experience or experience in case she'd have to/want to work. She's constantly learning new things and developing as a person. Organizing the school's Christmas Market that turns out to be bigger than the Christmas market organized by the town surely counts as management skills.

Just like Ghost's wife she can handle being left alone if her husband dies, but just like Soap's girlfriend, she has a strong community to rely on if something happens. She has been there for others so the others would be there for her.

I picture her as a very elegant lady. She'd wear pearl earrings and pencil dresses. She always looks very elegant and professional whenever she's outside. At home it's a different story altogether and Price (and their children) is the only one who gets to see her in yoga pants and a hoodie.

She's the disciplinary parent for sure but just like in case of Riley's it's 50/50 when it comes to being the responsible parent. Mrs Price does points out to her husband whenever he's not as strict with their daughter as he was with their twins.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Now Kyle is a pretty chill guy so I can picture him as the soothing partner to his wife. Mrs Garrick is definitely the louder and emotional one of the two. Ironically she's the one that brings chaos into their lives but Gaz is into it actually.

Mrs Garrick tends to overthinking and overreact a little, and Kyle is the only person who can calm her down almost instantly. Just knowing that she's enough to him and he's proud of her, calms her down a bit.

She's a primary school teacher and she loves her job. Kyle just likes to hang around her when she's grading tests and sometimes she'd read him funny and stupid answers her students put on the tests. Yes. They're making fun of how stupid children are sometimes. Nothing against children themselves, they're just funny.

Just like Mrs Riley and Mrs Price, she's a busy woman who loves her job. Gaz support her and encourage her to develop her career. Sometimes Mrs Garrick feels insecure but her man is always there to proof to her that she's amazing. He admires her a lot and how she's putting an extra mile to help children from the poorer communities because everyone deserves good education in her eyes.

Both she and Gaz would like to see the world as a better place, that's why they're doing what they're doing. Their relationship is also very funny, as they have many inside jokes that started as something awkward. Like Kyle saying that his "friend thinks you look cute" then pointing out somewhere and running to that exact place, and the time he tried to come up with the conversation started so he asked "Sooo...do you like ducks?"

Their idea of romance is watching Bee movie together and laughing. Garrick's also like to walk together in a park, feed ducks and enjoy the outdoors. Not in a wilderness sense like MacTavish but in a nature in the town sense. They like to go on a little trips in their county and visit unusual places that they know one another would like Cider museum or The Chained Library. They can be unapologetically themselves when they're together and they embrace their weirdness. They definitely attend the annual Cheese Rolling Competition at Cooper's Hill, near Gloucester. Now whether or not Gaz actively participates and tries to catch the cheese is only for his wife to know.

Gaz didn't want any children and his wife always said that she already has 18 children in her care so she doesn't need more. So Rose was a very much an unplanned child but she was still a wanted one. Both parents were panicking once they've learned that there's a bun in the oven but in the end they decided that parenthood is yet another crazy thing in their life that they'll embrace together. Both parents love Rose and after she was born they felt even more happy and in love than before. Neither of them thought it was possible.

Mrs Garrick is a Welsh woman so her mom is a very important figure in the family. It often causes arguments between her and her husband because he feels like his mother-in-law's influence on their family is bigger than he'd like it to be. However, he understands that when he's gone for months it's good for his wife to have someone to rely on.

Garrick's are still a young couple so sex is a pretty common activity they engage in. I'd place them 2nd after the MacTavish duo (3rd place is Price's and 4th belongs to "I pity your wife if you think 6 minutes is forever" Riley's) they tend to treat the activity more seriously than Soap and his girlfriend. I'd say that they are the old school romantics in this department but whatever floats their boat is still there. They want to please one another so they definitely discuss kinks and what they want to try next time.

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