#let me give you the best star seeing head of your entire life <3< /div>
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need to binge the masterlistâŚ. long overdue but ŕšÂˇÂ°(âďšâ)°·๠(ËĚŁĚŁĚĽáŻ
ËĚŁĚŁĚĽ) "(ăŁ- ⸠- Ď)áśť đ đ° (ęŠáŻ
ęŠď˝Ą) ŕ´Śŕľŕ´Śŕ´żË á´ Ë ) interpret this message
also i have almost (almost......) forgiven you for The Crime⢠but i will be mourning its loss while i read this #seventeen fluff ficâŚâŚ.. also canât say iâm surprised about mingyu being bullied but mc better than me because i would Not let him be my EX
vernon already going through it at work and then thereâs mc god (Pretending I Donât Know What Vernonâs About To Be Put Through) but oml him geeking over how pretty she is what if i Die <///3 the disney movie discrimination is CRAZYYY if vernon was woke enough he wouldâve been even More down bad after the disney princess movie question
He tried, as confidently as he could, to voice out his supposed opinion. âNolanâs Inception is one of the greatest films ever made.â
LMFAOOOO THIS MADE ME LAUGH TOO SORRY VERNON of course heâs a christopher nolan fanboy đ¤Ž
HIM TAKING HIS SISTERS MOVIE SET IS INSANEEEEE i would never forgive him fr but also from mcâs perspectiveâŚâŚ waoww â¤ď¸ he want me so bad â¤ď¸
vernon: Mingyu was the biggest piece of shit to grace the halls of his university me: đđđđđđđ #NEEDTHAT
Your smirk deepened. âJudging by your blush, youâre either terrible at lyingâŚor,â you offered, voice lowering a little as you drummed your fingers against the counter, âYouâve never had a hot girl this close to you.â
my queen why en GET HIM AGAIN!!!!!
this might as well be a contract killing with the way theyâre about to swipe mingyuâs entire collection Tbh but ACTUALLY SO VALID BECAUSE WHY IS MINGYU SLANDERING MC LIKE THIS đĄ also vernon feeling guilty for being an asshole because of his hate boner for mingyu #truelove
AND VERNON AGREEING TO THIS PLAN WITH ZERO CONTEXT OF WHAT IT IS LIKE HE IS DOWN HORRENDOUSSSS heâs so valid tho donât let anyone hurt ur queen <3
âPlease tell me, Miss Bond, how are you planning to carry this out?â You offered him an incredulous look. âI donât know what that reference means, Iâm too pretty.â
LMFAOAOOA THIS IS THEE BEST TWO LINER ok three but like. ok just the dialogue. ok.
vernon malfunctioning because he insinuated he wanted to see mc again and in the context of robbing mingyuâs house again GODDD WHAT A LOSERRR (i want him so bad u have no idea) (god i shouldâve bullied u harder into writing that smut scene)
You still could not believe how your ex-boyfriend was taking this long for the realisation to hit. Even when Eric jumped up on the screen, holding onto the shipâs ropes, the watcher only regarded the character intently, as if he was somehow part of the stranger film.
LMFAOOO WHY DID IT TAKE HIM SO LONG TO REALIZE FUCKKK he just secretly really enjoyed watching it â¤ď¸ AND HIM TAKING SO LONG ON MULAN TOO i love my men useless with innate babygirlism so somehow this isnât even giving me the ick .
VERNON HALFWAY OUT THE WINDOW AND MINGYU STILL CALLING HIM A NERD GODDD HOW ARE U GONNA ROB SOMEONE AND STILL GET GAGGED . okay wait my bad i read further and he actually followed up with the craziest line ever #ThankYouAmourCheol like wow. true literature
the way heâs so endeared even though sheâs geeking out to disney Omg that is called real true love <3 UR KIDDING HES GONNA KISS HER TO THIS SONGâŚ.WWAOWW oh i killed myself i really did <3//33 WOW WOWWâŚ.. and she likes him sm missing out on TANGLED for a man like gawd. and the shrek reveal was so perfect he really matched her freak in the end
worst timeskip of my life TELL US WHAT HAPPENED IN BETWEEN. also the fact that it was to shrek goddd they were boning to all star
THE BARBENHEIMER SCENE LMFAOOOO kitten and the reader killed themselves after reading that thank u mc Okay waow. CUTEST FACKING FIC EVER i need to die at the way he was ready to commit crimes for mc from beginning to end. his down badness needs to be studied. in a lab. with me as head scientist. anyways that was beautiful and i think fia ficology also needs to be studied because how does it hit every single time!!!!!!!
đđ˘đĽđŚđđŤđ¨-đłđ¨đ§đđ
âWho knew all it takes is a hot girl with top-tier taste for a man to admit he's wrong?â
đ đ đ đ đ : fluff, comedy, suggestive, college! au
đ đ đ đ
đ đ đ đ đ : 21.7k words
đ đ đ đ đ đ đ : self-proclaimed movie mastermind chwe vernon minds his businessâwhether that be avoiding the popular, problematic kids in his college to reducing customer interest in his parents' film store. his plan of isolation, however, is completely destroyed when you, a seemingly insane disney fan, slam his perfect movie taste and ask for his help to take down an evil ex.
đ đ đ đ đ đ đ : loosely inspired by watching the detectives, film major! vernon who owns an outdated film store, fem! reader is the baddest (but also the craziest) bitch in this fic, vernon is a loser, film major! mingyu who will be violated many times in this fic sorry king, mentions of many filmbro films which will also be violated, self-indulgent mentions of some of my favourite films, a few super dark jokes nothing serious though, kissing, mentions of sex and the act of cumming (all joking wise) but no actual sex because im fearing god today (super suggestive at best), barbenheimer reference <3
đ đ đ đ đ đ đ : @hyuckworld @junyangis @hiraethmae @lllucere @intoanothermind @kokoiinuts @shnnzsworld @lilifiedeans @talkyoongitome @vanishingboots @cookiearmy @person1fys
đ đ đ đ đ đ ' đ đ đ đ đ : she is finally here !! so so sorry for taking so long </3 i never thought it would be finished atp but thank you addy and alice for pushing me to complete this lil fic !! addy ur film major info birthed the filmbro slander, and alice...no smut LMAO LOSER anyway do enjoy homies <33
đ đ đ đ đ đ đ đ : if you're too shy (then let me know) by the 1975 || q&a by seventeen || wonderful women by the smiths || confidence by ocean alley || talk talk by charli xcx || oh my! by seventeen
back to masterlist
âNO, THE HOBBIT IS SET BEFORE THE LORD OF THE RINGS.â
This particular customer, however, refused to grasp the concept. âBut the Hobbit was released after,â he repeated, as if he had not heard twenty minutes ago, when he first entered the store. âWouldnât it make sense to watch the more recent movies?â
Vernon clamped his lips together, stopping himself from saying something that would lose him a potential buyer. Well, not that it would matter much, considering the man before him could not comprehend what a prequel was, but stillâhe had to make this idiot understand.
âI understand that, sir, but the Hobbit is a prequel to the Lord of the Rings.â Holding onto the DVD set, he pointed to the grand picture of the movieâs protagonist. âItâs based on Bilbo Bagginsâ adventures.â
âBut was that not the little fellow from the Rings?â
âNo, sir, that was Frodo. Bilbo is Frodoâs uncle.â The boy then clarified, tone heightening, âYou know, where he reclaims his home from Smaug?â
âSmog?â The customer parroted incorrectly, scratching his hair as if the action would jog his memory. âNow why does this hobbitâs home have health violations?â
The twist of his lips was inevitable. âSmaug,â he corrected. âThe dragonâŚthe villainâŚthe whole reason the movie was created?â
âSee, I only know that one slimy creature with the ring. What was he always sayingâŚâ The man snapped his fingers, a lightbulb switching in his otherwise empty brain. âAh, yes!â He then completely distorted his voice, rasping, âMy presh-shious!â
For a split second, Vernon was a little gob-smacked at the impression. Then, he remembered he needed sales, and made sure to laugh as if that customer was the funniest man that ever stepped foot in the store.Â
This particular joker, who was clearly not understanding Vernonâs analogies, instead asked, âWell, which one do you recommend?â
Ah, the fated question.Â
Besides from the Lord of the Rings collection, he had been asked this very question a few too many times, when customers would browse the films on offer and ask for his opinion. Not that he considered himself an all-knowing master of moviesâ
He smiled. Now that was something he could chuckle about.
âWell, sir, the Lord of the Rings is a timeless classic. I would recommend it to anyone interested in a well-written, well-produced fantasy.â
The man twisted his lips. âBut I donât really like fantasy, though.âÂ
Vernon could not help his smile dropping. I donât get paid enough for this.
With as much strength he could muster, he persuaded the idiot to get a rom-com instead, and ushered him out.Â
He sighed, going back to the desk. The store was never busyâunsurprising, since nobody buys DVDs anymoreâbut that was how he liked it. The less customers that bothered him, the better. He did not want to be that type of guy, but he would rather have his own company than those who thought that the Marvel movies were Godâs gift to man. (The Spiderman movies, however, he had to leave out of his apparently controversial statement).
Vernon was about to close the shop out of pure boredom when someone stepped in.Â
His eyes darted to the newcomer.Â
They stayed as he beheld you.
Perhaps this was a gross generalisation, but he did not expect someone so cute walking in a store this run-down. Maybe you had mistaken it for a vintage shop, planning to rob the CDs, or thought there might be decades old clothing in here. He was certain you had walked in by mistake, but then you began to browse the movie sections.
His first thought was that you seemed to have excellent taste.Â
You slowed your steps in the classics section, eyes roaming at the Fan Favourites shelf which was simply movies Vernon had seen this week. Still, they were amazing fucking movies, hence their place on the shelf, now being admired by the likes of you. He wondered what you thought of the one DVD you picked up, assessing the blurb at the back. Roman Holiday. The boy could have smiledâyou truly had a knack for picking out special films.Â
Your fingers lingered on the movies for only a couple of minutes before you saw the deskâfirst the counter, and then the person behind it.Â
The fact that your first instinct was to smile at the boy behind the counter had a profound effect on him.
Now, he did not want to sound pathetic; he did not know you, had never seen you before, but someone this aesthetically pleasing did not come to stores like his. Someone who picks up Roman fucking Holiday and be this cute did not acknowledge boys like him.
But Vernon Chwe will be cool about it. He will not look like a loser in front of you.
He pretended to look over some DVDs on the counter desk as you approached him. âHey, there,â you greeted, and only then he allowed himself to look up, glancing you over. Already you had propped your arms on the top, eyes darting around the store as if finding something which deserved your attention. âI wanted to ask about a specific film. Well, films.âÂ
Films? Vernon really thought all the intelligent minds had rotted in this lifetime, but clearly you were an exception. âOf course,â he said, setting the movie on the side. âWhat genres are you interested in?â he ticked his head towards the Fan Favourites. âYou were looking in the right place, to be fair.â
âHmm?â you only spared that shelf a momentaryâdismissive��glance. âOh, sorry! I was looking for a specific box-set, but I canât seem to find it on the shelves. I was hoping you could have it out back.â
Specific box-set? Vernon tried to contain his smile. Of course you were looking for a collection of timeless classics. âWhatâre you looking for?â he asked you, hoping you were going to request Hitchcockâs best. If you asked for Wong Kar-Waiâs trilogy, he might have fallen to his knees.Â
You smiled at him.
Then dropped the bomb.
âI donât know if youâd have the Disney Princess box set? You know, the complete edition?â
Vernonâs eye twitched a little. What the fuck?
Your gaze on him did not shift. âAre you okay?â
It took a moment for him to realise that you had asked him a question. âHuh? Right, sorry,â he said hurriedly, mind rushing for the many possibilities as to why you had requested a set like that. Perhaps you were braindead? No, that was too harsh. But then, who was watching Disney movies at that age?
Then an idea came into his head, and it made him feel much better.Â
âSo sorry about that,â he reiterated, scratching the back of his neck. âAnywayâŚDisney Princess set, huh?â He sighed out a laugh. âA sweet treat for your younger siblings, then.â
âYounger siblings?â A swift shake of your head, still smiling. âHavenât got any of those.âÂ
The twitching was back. â...anyone under the age of 12 you know?â
âNow youâre making me sound like a freak,â you mused, locking your hands together. âIs it that shocking that Iâm getting the set for myself?â
Vernonâs any attempt to diffuse the conversation died the moment you said those words.
Disney. Princess. Movies. The box-set you wanted was a Disney. Fucking. Princess box-set.Â
At this rate, his eye-twitching was very much visible to you. âDonât tell me no oneâs ever bought a Disney movie from you,â you said, surprised by his change of attitude.
âWell,â he jeered, âI usually have first-time parents with their toddler kids asking me about sets like that.âÂ
You then titled your head back a little, taken aback with the comment. âAre you saying Iâm too old to watch Disney movies?â
âNo!â he instinctively defended himself, though he had virtually no defence to offer. He had, in his own words, called you a hag.Â
This was itâhe was usually stellar at keeping his opinions to himself. Now, the one time he could have kept his mouth shut, it spluttered open and not only embarrassed him, but one of the only cute potential customers. He was his own saboteur. His own destruction.Â
After catching the flurry of emotions on his face, you had a realisation.Â
Did his stupid comments get to you? Perhaps they would have, had you not seen his like before. Not only that, you had a sneaky feeling he himself had no clue on what category he was slotted into.
So you let the corners of your mouth curve upwardsâup to the point where you were smirking, completely catching the boy off guard.Â
âMy god, youâre a filmbro!âÂ
Those emotions that you had witnessed now all conjoined into confusion. âHuh?â was his intelligent answer to the accusation. Filmbro?
And then you began to chuckleâlittle bursts of soft giggles, which escaped your mouth the more the revelation settled over you. âWait, wait,â you began, âI need to ask this first!â You wiggled your finger at him. âWhat is your favourite film?â
Again, the fated question. This time, though, he felt as if his answer would not be the right one. Stillâif there was one thing he was confident about, it was his expertise in films.
He tried, as confidently as he could, to voice out his supposed opinion. âNolanâs Inception is one of the greatest films ever made.âÂ
There was one, solitary, quiet moment.
It was ruined by the subsequent laughter, courtesy of your mouth, which could not shut after his answer. You had to grip the counter, cackling at the response, and Vernon could only gawk at you, face reddening with every second spent watching you keel over.Â
After what seemed like a lifetime (but was only about thirty seconds), Vernon finally cleared his throat. âAlright now, thatâs enough comedy,â he muttered.
Another thirty seconds later, you finally seemed to calm down. The mischievous mirth on your face, although would have had any man swooning at your feet, seemed to irritate him all the more. âIâm sorry,â you gasped out, wiping a slight tear from your eye, âYou justâŚyou reminded me of my boyfriend.â
Of course. Vernon nearly clicked his tongue in disappointment. Of course the pretty, borderline-mean, borderline-terrible-taste-in-movies girl was taken. Fuck my life, son.
Your smile flickeredâalmost as if it turned cruel. âMy mistakeâŚex-boyfriend.â
His eyebrow then raised a little. Maybe life can be unfucked; maybe the pretty, not-that-mean-as-he-thought, changeable-taste-in-movies girl was still attainable.Â
Your eyes wandered once more, but this time to your hands. âI was actually going to get the Disney Princess set for him.â
The eyebrow decided to raise further up. He was dying to know why you were 1) getting your ex-boyfriend a present and 2) getting your ex-boyfriend the worst fucking present. But of course, due to the lack of balls in his pants, he did not ask you.
The crazier notion was, maybe you knew the lack of balls that should be present in his pants, because you iterated for him. âIâm surprised youâre not asking why Iâm giving my ex a Disney Princess movie set, Mr. Filmbro.â
That term had him immediately frowning. âI donât particularly care,â he lied as best as he could. He then crossed his arms. âPlus, Iâm afraid the store doesnât have the sets. Iâm gonna have to order them in.â
A tilt of your head. âAre you lying?â
The cross of his arms was goneânow his hands were raised in surrender. âNo, no!â At least not the set order bitâŚ
Although it was quite clear that you did not believe him, you spared him this once. âAlrightâŚâ you receded your arms from the desk, taking a step back. Instead, you pointed at him. âBut donât think Iâm gonna leave you alone on this!âÂ
Vernonâs insanely suave, cool, mystique response was giving you a thumbâs up. âOf course.âÂ
As you walked back to the entrance, hand on the door, you looked back at him. âI���ll see you soon, Mr. Filmbro.âÂ
The eye-twitch was about to come back. He did not bother waving as you left the shop.
VERNON COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU FOR THE SEVEN DAYS BETWEEN YOU AND TODAY.Â
It was slightly embarrassingâhe supposed he should have expected some extraordinary meet-cute, where someone who looked and acted like you would waltz into his dusty-ass film store and ask for possibly the worst movie collection to grace the western cinema.Â
But then you called him a fucking Filmbro, and now the self-hatred might bubble to the surface of his usual calm demeanour.Â
The boy scoffed as he fixed the alphabetical order of the CD covers, located in the Classics section. FilmbroâŚwhat the fuck do I look like a Filmbro forâŚ
He firstly supposed that he should consider it a complimentâso what if he had superior knowledge of movies over the average morons that wandered into the store? He was paid minimum wage for this knowledge! Fuck, he was doing a degree within this field! (Not that he was quite sure he would end up as a blockbuster director at the fine age of 21, but the arts majors were always told to dream beyond the realistic limits.)
The more he contemplated over the vicious term, the more it began to bother him. FilmbroâŚFilm. Bro. God, it sounded like a classist cliqueâa club where the members considered themselves above the laws of society, but were horrendously ridiculed by the outsiders. At the end of the day, he had always been an outsider in these clubsâhe did not enjoy being the laughing stock, even if it meant being a member of an elitist group.Â
Whatever. So what if you called him a Filmbro? He had only spoken to you once; the opinion of one girlâregardless of how pretty she wasâwas not of any relevance to him.
But then you sauntered into his store, and suddenly he forgot that he was seething over you for an entire week.Â
There you were, footsteps harmonising along the bells of the entrance, and he swerved back to see you. You, in all your frill-skirted, layered-shirted, gum-chewing glory, catching his eye and bringing back the smile which you had offered him the moment you bestowed him that term of little-endearment.Â
âHello again, Mr. Filmbro.â
Donât be a prick, donât be a prick, donât be a prickâ
It was fineâit was okay. Vernon was a man nowâno longer in his teens. He could have a normal, pleasant conversation. He was mature and able enough to interact with a girl who just happened to disagree with him on certain interests.Â
He would be cordialâkind.
âHow can I help you, Miss Disney-Hag?â
His skin nearly crawled. I need to kill myself immediately.Â
A bit of a low blow from his nickname, but you were laughing, a silly little melody. You must have been crazy, because any other sane, rational human being would have been offendedâshould have been offended. Vernon fought to keep his face straight.Â
âI see youâve been thinking about me then,â you said.Â
That had him looking away, walking behind the counter. âItâs not everyday I get a grown-ass woman asking me about childrenâs films.â
You mocked a gasp, slapping a hand over your chest. âOuch. Do you hurt every girl that walks into your filmstore, or is this special treatment reserved for me?
Vernon focused on the cash in the register. âWhen another girl asks for the special edition for the Cinderella trilogy, then Iâll hurt her just the same.â
You clicked your tongue. âI should have known all men suck in their own ways.â You then approached the counter, propping your elbows atop the surface. âAt least show me youâre good at your job and bring me the movie set I ordered.â
At this precise moment, all the thoughts about your stubborn addiction, playful smirk and how terrible the Little Mermaid was had completely vanished.
Shit.Â
Maybe his irrational dislike ran further than he thought.
âYeahâŚâ but then he realised he sounded incredibly suspicious, and cleared his throat, forcing a little assurance in his usual monotone. âYes! Yeah, of course! The movie set.â He took a step back, nodding his head ever so slowly, as if his head was not churning out a million different plans. âGive me one secondâŚâ
âSure,â you could barely get out before Vernon whirled on his heel, bursting through the backstage door, and into the Chwe flat.Â
He did not know whether this was going to work out.Â
Like lightning he ascended the stairs, hands brushing against the bannister as he went past his bedroom, door slightly ajar. Not the destination he was seeking, he stopped before the neighbouring doorâthis one firmly closed.Â
The boy made sure to knock first. No answer. Perfect. Slowly turning the knob, he opened the door, peeking around just in case there was someone in the room, and then he would have to resort to more planning. Since the coast was crystal clear, though, he put his mind at ease, only focusing on the main plan.
The room he had entered was a myriad of pop culture references and childhood memories, plastered on the butterfly-covered walls, sitting atop bedside tables or hanging off the hooks. Vernon never realised how invested his sister was with certain TV shows or films till he saw Lindsay Lohanâs mugshot plastered next to her bed. He had asked about it once, but she only waved him off. You wouldnât understand her impact, she had said to him, and went back to shitting about him to her friends.Â
Prying away from the poster, his eyes settled on what he came for, settled in the middle of the huge book shelf.
Sofia prided herself with her book and movie collection, a hereditary trait which Vernon shared: the top and bottom shelves were filled with her all-time favourites, even resorting to furthering her obsessions with the merch related to her treasured characters. He remembered laughing at her ideas until he saw a Barbie FunkoPop figure staring back at him one day. That notion was already horrendous, but the black, soulless eyes had guaranteed its spot in his sleep paralysis the next day.
Thankfully, the little horror was not on show on her bookshelfâthis time, right in the middle, was the very prize that he sought.Â
The Disney Princess Movie SetâComplete Edition.
Packaged in pink casing, Sofiaâs most treasured piece sat, almost with its head held high as the other movies orbited around its pull. As far as Vernon remembered, it held all the Princess movies, and was worth at least 6 hours of his wages.
The boy looked around the room, as if his sister would appear any second.
Then, like a thief in the night (even though it was broad daylight, and would definitely be caught), he swiped the set off the bookshelf, and hurried out of her room.
âSorry, Sofe,â he could only murmur under his breath as he dashed down the stairs, hoping you had not been bored by his absence, and left him with stolen goods at the scene of the crime.
He opened the door adjacent to the shop, and he almost sighed in relief when you perked up, eyes darting straight to your apparent order. When he saw your face light up like fireworks in the night sky, he titled his head back a bit, stunned by your boisterous reaction.
âYou actually bought it!â you exclaimed, drumming your hands against the counter as he set the movies down. âI had a feeling you would blow me off.â
âBusiness is business,â Vernon said, crossing his arms, âShit taste in movies will not stop me from making my money.â
You clicked your tongue. âSpoken like a business major.â
âFilm major, thank you. I would rather kill myself than submit to the horrors of finance.â
âDonât die on me just yet.â Bringing out your purse, you fished through its contents, first setting your card on the counter. Then, you brought out a crumpled piece of paper. âI actually have a few more films I want to ask about.â
The boy was expecting another long list of early 2000s rom-comsâperhaps an opinion for every Disney movie ever made in its existence. He swore if he had to hear about Rachel McAdamsâ versatility one more time, he might blow his brains out in front of a customer.Â
Then you dropped the names, and he had to surge his head forward.
âWhat are your thoughts on Wolf of Wall Street, American Psycho, Pulp FictionâŚFight Club, Saving Private Ryan, ScarfaceâŚâ You squinted at the list, finding the names neverending. âJeez, this list keeps going, huh?âÂ
He could not help the scoff. âAnd you called me a Filmbro.â He set his forearms on the counter, locking his hands together. âWhat do you need these movies for?â
âTheyâre for my ex-boyfriend.âÂ
The term had him pausing. Of courseâthe ex-boyfriend. How has he heard of this man, but not know a thing about him? Shit, he did not even know your name.
âThis ex of yours hasâŚan interesting taste,â he said slowly. âWhatâs he like?â
âI can tell you he attends the same college as you. Well, us,â you clarified, jerking your head towards the college colours of your serverâs hoodie. âFilm major. Just like you, actually.âÂ
âOh?â Small world. âWhatâs the name?â
âKim Mingyu. Do you know him?âÂ
Vernon Chwe nearly shit his oversized jeans.
A hesitant nod of his head. âI have a few classes with him.â
âOh?â Your stare was a little more intense now. âWhat do you think of him?â
Right.Â
Another fated questionâthe people around him had to stop asking him such controversial questions, or else he was bound to piss someone off. You were already letting him off the hook too many times; one more judgemental comment, and he was having that Princess movie set smashed on his head.
Kim Mingyu. Fuckass Kim Mingyu. Film majorâjust like him. One of the most popular boys in the yearâvery unlike him. All the teachers love his essays, all the girls love his freakishly-perfect six-pack, which Vernon is extremely irritated (and devastatingly intimidated) by.Â
What all these people failed to realise, though, was that Mingyu was the biggest piece of shit to grace the halls of his universityâand the planet, if dramatics were in order. If you thought that Vernon was a filmbro, then Mingyu was Filmbrother. Filmcomrade. Filmnemesis.Â
It was as if you could hear the thoughts churning in his head. âYou can be honest, you know. He did dump me at the end of the day.â A smirk began to appear. âSay your worst.â
The reassurance did not help. âI mean,â he started, swiping your card, âHeâs okay? I havenât talked to him enough to have an opinion on him.âÂ
A half-truthâthat should suffice.Â
But because the fates like to shit on his head every now and then for kicks, they decided to leave you unsatisfied with his answer. âOr, you can keep lying!âÂ
Excellent intuition, really. âIâm not!â he exclaimed, slapping the card back on the counter. âI really donât know much about him.â
The big man upstairs was testing him even further, when, with a determined gaze, you set your elbows atop the surface. You leaned closer, tilting your head to the side as you inspected him, and Vernon blinked back at the sheer lack of space you had created. His mouth twisted, eyes frantically darting at the features of your face, not quite taking in the entirety of your being. Your vision seemed to work perfectly, because it caught the slight flush at the tops of his cheeks, where it was just pale skin seconds before.
Your smirk deepened. âJudging by your blush, youâre either terrible at lyingâŚor,â you offered, voice lowering a little as you drummed your fingers against the counter, âYouâve never had a hot girl this close to you.âÂ
Fuck everything and everyone, because that only made him blush more furiously. You could not help the chuckle that escaped, deciding to cease torturing him and take your card. âIâll not say the answer, Mr. Filmbro, but I think you already know.â
Since he had no plans of turning into a human form of a ketchup bottle, he evaded the topic entirely, instead focusing on interrogating you. âYou still havenât told me how Mingyu is related to the movie list you made.â
That seemed to hold your interest. âOh, of course!â Putting the list back into your bag, you began, âWell, the list holds my ex-boyfriendâs favourite films. I wanted to know your opinion on a few.â
He could not contain his sigh. Oh, he had an opinion on these films that you mentioned. Again, he would rather be buried with his thoughts on the specific genre than ever tell you. The curiosity, though, was eventually going to eat him alive.
So much for minding his business.
âI meanâŚâ he began to think, trying to find the right words. âI donât mind them? Godfather is a good film, but Iâve seen better from Brando. I like American Psycho, but again, people tend to miss the point of the movie.â
As you nodded, listening to his two-cents on the movies you mentioned, he paused, furrowing his brows. âWhy do you care about my opinion?â
You smacked your lips together, folding the list back. âI donât know much about you, Mr. Filmbro,â you began, âBut you donât run a filmstore without knowing a thing or two about the films you sell.â
âSo?â He crossed his arms atop the counter. âShouldnât you have asked the guy who you made the list about?â
âTrust me,â you said, your smirk turning more into a rageful flash of teeth, âI know exactly what he thinks of these films.â
Donât particularly know what to make of that comment. âWell, I donât know what my opinion for these films is going to help you in any way.â
âIt has helped.â You paused then, waiting to see if he would egg you on, asking how his seemingly tame opinions would play into the grand scheme of things. âAll part of my master plan.â
Master plan? Vernon may have been interested before, but he was certain that, before, he could have hid it without letting you catch onto it. In a sudden flash, though, as if his mouth was beyond his control, he regrettably slipped out the words which had you smiling more than he would have liked.
âWhat master plan?â
He almost closed his eyes. Shit. Now Iâm fucking invested.
The corners of your mouth, lifting upwards, had him almost nervous. âI was hoping you would say that.âÂ
Great. Brilliant. Fantastic. Fucking Stupendous. Vernon could not think of other pretentious synonyms. âI will tell you, Mr. Filmbro,â you began, once again settling your locked hands on the counter, âIf you help me out with it.âÂ
That had his eyebrow shooting upwards. âWhat does that mean?â
âExactly what I intended.â A pause. âLook, I know itâs a little crazyâŚbeing asked by someone to help in some mysterious plan. But hey!â you added, âYou know who the target is, and you know I can be trusted.â
âCalling your ex-boyfriend a target makes this sound like a contract killing. Also, I actually donât know that,â he corrected, crossing his arms. âThe only thing I know about you is your weird obsession with childrenâs movies.â
âWell, buddy, thatâs basically my entire personality, so you donât need to know any more!â
Vernon sucked in a breath. âI donât even know your name.â
Your eyes darted to his features, the sharp brows, the speculative eyes, the flared nostrils. His lips, which were twisted in a curious, bemused line. âThatâs an easy problem to solve.â You decided to battle his frown with a smile. â_____.â
_____. At least he knew one important thing about you. He swore Mingyu had mentioned your name before, but then he should not also hold certaintyâthat boyâs favourite subject had always been himself.Â
You snapped him out of his thoughts. âThis is when you tell me your name nowâŚor do you enjoy being called a filmbro?â
ManâŚhe could not look you in the eye afterwards. âI donâtâŚâ he got out, stuffing his hands in his pockets. âAnd itâs Vernon. Chwe Vernon.âÂ
âVernon,â you repeated, lips curling upwards. âAlright, Vernon, since both of us know each otherâs names, you can definitely help me now!âÂ
The said-boy tried to smile, which was more a grimace. âWellâŚâ
âTell you what,â you said, trying to find something in your bag. âWait, give me a secondâŚshit, where is that piece of paperâŚ?â You finally managed to fish a crumpled piece out. âRight!â After catching sight of a pen lying around the counter, you took it and scribbled something quickly, sending it his way.
Taking it, he looked at the messy scribblesâyour number. âYouâre looking at it as if I passed you a death threat,â you snickered. Vernon gave an uneasy smile. âJust think it over. I need movie expertise, and thereâs no one else I know who can help me more than a guy who runs a film store.â
The boy behind the counter listened to you, paper still in hand. Maybe Mingyu made some points breaking up with youâyou did not know who Vernon was, save for the name that was tied to him, and the job he was forced to do by his parents. Realistically, he had to decline, because if he has ever learned something in his lifeâor from watching a myriad of golden age romantic tragediesâis that you never trust the beautiful, crazy girls.Â
âHey,â he heard you say, and he swore your chirp had softened. âIâll go ahead with my plan in a weekâs time. If I donât hear from you, then Iâll know your answer. You donât have to tell me now.â When he looked at you, he saw your expression shift. âThatâs why I only gave the paper.âÂ
He supposed he could appreciate this sentiment. âThanks,â he could only say, pocketing your number. âIs thereâŚanything else you want? Aside from theââ a snide glance at the DVD setââthe movie?âÂ
âI saw that,â you scoffed, taking hold of the movie set. âAnd no, Iâm alright. Iâll bother you about childrenâs movies another time.âÂ
âIâll make sure these childrenâs movies are all conveniently sold out when you come,â he countered without thinking.Â
You could only shake your head, trying to contain your laugh. âCareful, or I just might bother you after the plan.âÂ
Vernon did not know what he felt at that notionâwould he want that? However, he did not have time to ponder, since you were already heading for the door. As you nearly left the store, bell ringing, he did not hear the door close. He glanced up, catching you looking at him with an indecipherable expression. âYes?â
You waited a moment before parting your mouth. âI hope to hear from you, Mr. Filmbro.âÂ
With that, you swiftly exited the store, leaving this Mr. Filmbro even more helpless than he was between the seven days between your first encounter, and now this very second.Â
âJO MADE SENSE WITH FRIEDRICH AT THE END. SHE SIMPLYâŚNEEDED A MAN AFTER PINING FOR LAURIE.â
The professor listened in the small circle, the rest of the students typing or writing down the answer. âLike, realistically,â Mingyu went on, twisting his mechanical pencil between his fingers, âThe whole point of the movie is her relationship with Laurie, and that was shattered the moment he married Amy. Friedrich was likeâŚâ he pouted in thought, furrowing his brows. âThe light at the end of the tunnelâŚdoes that make sense, Minghao?â
The said-man nodded. âInteresting take,â he noted, walking closer to the circle he was teaching. âSo you agree that Jo needed Friedrich at the end of the film?â
âAbsolutely.â
There were a few murmurs around the room, majority of them agreeing with the golden boy who was sitting at the head of the circular, white table. Vernon, who was sat one girl away from him, typed furiously in his laptop, adding to his notes. MINGYU IS A FUCKING IDIOTâŚCINEMATICALLY ILLITERATEâŚBORDERLINE MISOGYNISTâŚOkay, perhaps he was exaggerating on the last one, but his analysis of the question pissed him off.Â
Did Jo need Friedrich at the end of the movie? Was what Professor Minghao had asked them about an hour ago. Vernon knew the answer immediately, and, although did not share it with the seminar, was surprised to be disagreed by the majority of the class. Not surprising, however, when his class was filled with men who could not imagine a woman in a film wanting anything else but a man beside her.Â
Whatever, he thought, straying from the web page and instead checking the release date for Oppenheimer when he heard your name crop up amongst the discourse in the table.Â
âDid _____ actually?âÂ
âOh, yeah, said she thought Jo should have been on her own.â A click of tongue. âNot surprising, coming from her.âÂ
Vernon instantly perked up, fingers pausing on the keyboard. Not surprising? The boy was actually floored at that opinionâand how valid you were for expressing it.Â
âI mean,â another girl, right next to him, chimed in, âDidnât you say she was really stupid, Gyu?â
âGod, I donât know where to begin,â Mingyu said, aghast, and the boy who eavesdropped felt a little dread at every word that escaped his mouth. âEverytime I watched a movie with her she always got bored, or argued with me when I tried to explain shit to her.âÂ
âI remember we sat with her while we were tryna do our film project last semester,â the boy beside Mingyu recalled. âShe had no fucking clue who Martin Scorcese was, man!âÂ
The group audibly gasped, save for Vernon, who could not help himself, refusing to mind his business. Nasty habit thisâhe made a note to call you out for this later on, should you walk into his store again.Â
Fuck. He did not want that. Of course he did not. He should stop thinking about it too.Â
You, that is.
âSheâs gotta be the dumbest one yet, Gyu,â the boy snickered, snapping his laptop shut.Â
âYou donât even know the half of it,â the dumper groaned, raking through his locks. âYou know she was always watching those fucking Disney princess movies?â Vernonâs eyes widened a little. âMan, I remember she wouldnât get enough of them. Like, what are you, six? Why the fuck am I watching a movie about a midget dragon?â
Then, Mingyu said the words that made the eavesdropperâs spirits shot down.Â
â_____ may have been hot, but she was one stupid bitch. Thank god I got rid of her.âÂ
The others agreed. He may have spoken more on the matter of your lack of media literacy, but the professor was back, and the seminar had quietened, all in focus.Â
All except for the boy who had not given his two cents on the matter, frozen solid at the conversation that occurred. What the fuck was that? He had first thought, over and over to the point that he nearly typed it in the seminar document. He had always known Mingyu was an asshole, but what he said about you gave him a very uneasy feeling. Â
What sent him over the edge was that a lot of his grievances sounded identical to Vernonâs own words.Â
Miss Disney Hag he had called youâto your face he had insulted your taste in films, and you had only laughed. He wondered how you felt when it was Mingyu amplifying those very opinions on a daily basis.Â
A frown marred his features. Damn it. He knew he was a loser, but he did not know he was an asshole. Like MingyuâŚ
Vernon visibly shivered.Â
As Minghao voiced out the objectives for the second half of the seminar, the boy brought his hand into his trouser pocket, slipping out the paper. He looked over your number, the messy scribbles dancing in his eyes. Darting to his phone on the table, he held it in his free hand, looking over the contacts.Â
âDamn it,â he said under his breath.Â
Was he going to regret this? Most probably. Will you probably make him do something that would result in a fatal injury, and land a permanent stain on his social record? One hundred percent.Â
If he knew these things already, then what he should have done was toss the paper in the nearest bin. What he did instead, as he typed in some vital information in his phone, was something that changed his life (or at least the life he will live for the next few weeks).
vernon: u dont have to wait till next weekÂ
vernon: ill help u with the plan
There. And now, he shall wait.
Which, he pondered as he saw the immediate response, was not very long.Â
normal disney enjoyer: wait who tf is this??
Oops.Â
vernon: oh mb this is vernon lmao
vernon: from the filmstore
normal disney enjoyer: oh damn why didnât u say so !! freaky ass textÂ
vernon: ??? ive said it now tf
normal disney enjoyer: and im happy u have ;)
Well. Vernon sighed a little, trying to focus back on his work, but to no avail.
Letâs see what you have in store for the next week.
VERNON WAS WONDERING WHETHER HE STILL HAD TIME TO KILL HIMSELF.Â
It could be quickâmaybe if he jumped in front of the next incoming car, full speed, he might suffer a haemorrhage in his brain, and die bleeding out as his parents took him to the hospital. Of course, that does mean that it would be slow and excruciating, but he thought that nothing would be as painful as whatever you had planned for him.
Come onâŚmaybe it wonât be that bad. Perhaps his thoughts were spiralling too quickly. Perhaps his assumptions of you were a stretch, and that all this anxiousness, pent up in him, would wash away the moment he saw your car pulling up to the storeâs driveway.
He felt himself prepare mentally as, eventually, your small, red car slowed in front of him. Right before him, he saw the passenger window roll down, and he caught sight of your smiling face, teeth showing.Â
Perhaps it truly would not be as bad as he imagined.Â
âGet in loser, weâre going trespassing.â
Nevermind.
âOh my God,â was the unsatisfying answer to your perfect reference. Seriously, you should not bother saving your precious material on such a lame boy, but there was something so exciting about his eyes sharply rolling, colour staining the tops of his cheeks. âIâm not doing this if youâre going to quote terrible movies the entire night.â
âFirst of all, fuck you. Mean Girls birthed half of your customers.â You flicked the lock on the passenger door, pushing it open. âSecond, you donât have a choice. Youâve agreed to ruin Mingyuâs life.â
âFirst of all yourself, I did not agree to that.â Begrudgingly, he settled shotgun, snapping the car door shut. âSecond, Mean Girls was a waste of Rachel McAdamsâ talent.âÂ
You scoffed, starting the car. âI donât take opinions from men who canât drive.âÂ
This shut the boy up nicely, clamping his lips together in quiet shame. He wished he could argue with thatâyou, he feared, had a good point. Despite that, it was not his fault that his parents insisted on the reliance of public transport; the bus was his greatest villainâaside from the middle school kids in his store that always ask for the next FIFA game.Â
You could not help taking a second glance at him, chuckling at his defeat. âDonât be sad, Mr. FIlmbro,â you reassured him, changing gears. âI like my men a little pathetic.âÂ
That did not help at allâhis eyes widened, gawking at you, but you were already looking ahead, pressing your foot on the accelerator.Â
âJesus!â he exclaimed as he held onto his seat, taken aback by your sudden rush of speed. âI thought you wanted to kill Mingyu, not yourself!â
âMy bad,â you only said, turning right. âIâm just so excited! You know, getting there.âÂ
âI can see that,â he mumbled, looking away from you into the back. Strapped in with the seatbelt, bizarrely, was Sofiaâs Disney Princess Set, as if the dozen-movie box was a toddler in need of extra assistance. What the fuckâŚ?
âIâm having these films in pristine condition, Vernon,â you explained, though it still made no sense in his head. âYou understand, donât you?â
Of course not. âSure.âÂ
He waited for further explanation, which, as the silence continued, you decided to throw him the conversational bone. âI donât just carry the set around with me, you know.â
Sure. âOf course not.âÂ
âItâs relevant to todayâs plan,â was all you would offer, speeding more to reach the destination quicker. Vernon held onto the belt a little tighter, still eyeing the movie set rather suspiciously before focusing back on the road.Â
The drive was not longâperhaps thirty minutes at mostâbut he knew he was leaving the rougher parts of the city when nicer neighbourhoods welcomed his vision, the litter on the roads disappearing, instead trees in an orderly line painting the sides of the pavement. The further you drove into these suburbs, the more he was surprised at the sheer luxury of the exterior of these houses; granted, he did not originate from poverty, but his idea of a holiday was three days in the comforts of his bed, bingeing the Miyazaki collection with a lifetime supply of mint chocolate chip ice cream on his lap.Â
Vernon had to save his mouth dropping to the seat of the car floor when they rolled into the Kim householdâs drive.Â
He was aware that Mingyu derived from wealthâthe former could not help noticing his pricey, flashy brands every time the taller boy sauntered into the Film Sound classes, but he did not expect this Bridgerton-ass looking house, nestled in between the other million-dollar homes in the neighbourhood. He was greeted with a clearer picture the closer you parked in their drive, surprisingly empty; it was around that moment that you noticed that all the lights were turned off in the house, almost a haunting image.Â
The boy was on his way to make a comment about your terrible spying skills when you rebuffed him immediately, saying, âI know what youâre thinking. I have it covered.â
âPlease tell me, Miss Bond, how are you planning to carry this out?â
You offered him an incredulous look. âI donât know what that reference means, Iâm too pretty.â
His answer to that was a thin, long line of his mouth. You chose to ignore it completely. âMingyuâs parents are out of town right now, and his sisterâs on a ski-trip in Austria.â
A glance of confusion. âIn the middle of March?âÂ
A shrug. âYou know what rich people are like.â Weirdly enough, he knew exactly what you were talking about. âBut it worked out great for us.â With a hard exhale you got out of the car, the boy beside you reflecting your actions. âAll the easier for what we have to do.â You opened the car door behind the driverâs one, unstrapping the seatbelt and carefully bringing out the movie set.Â
âHowâre we getting into the evil lair, then?â he asked dryly, crossing both his arms. âI assume the millionaires donât happen to put a spare key under the carpet?â
âImagine,â you said, sighing melodramatically. âI tried making them do it so I could sneak into his house, but for some reason, Mingyu never agreed to it.âÂ
âI wonder why,â he muttered.
âWorry not, young grasshopper!â You strolled to the very right of the house, where a thin wooden door was almost hidden from view. âWhere there is a door closed, another is mysteriously open.âÂ
With a hard push, the door trudged back, swinging heavily away. He stared at it, not quite believing how someone can be so careless to keep their gates unlocked. âAnother weakness of Mingyuâsââ You pointed at the cleared path into the houseââwhenever he leaves from the garden, he never locks the gate.â
Vernon could not quite believe it. âEither the wealthy are incredibly secured in their safety, or stupid as fuck.â
âI think you know the answer to that,â you joked, going further into the journey, ushering him over. Like a siren calling his name, he followed you, unaware of the shit you might be getting him into.Â
Into the fancy garden they arrived, clean-cut hedges bordering in dozens of flower bushes, peppered also with a few fruit treesâberries of every kind ripening on the green. While Vernon admired the natural luxury, you hurried to the nearby shed, where a ladder was situated right beside it. âQuick, help me out here!â you shouted in a whisper, ushering him over. Dropping the DVD set for a moment, you grunted as you held the large ladder up with his assistance, slowly making its way to the brick wall of the house. âWait, line it up against that window over there,â you instructed, jerking your head towards the far right window, no doubt on the second floor. Once the ladder was lined up properly, you moved the boy out of the way, shaking the rails to make sure it stayed put.Â
âI canât believe weâre actually doing this,â Vernon muttered, watching you take the Disney Princess set in one hand, the other making the first step on the calendar. âWe can stillâŚyou know, not commit breaking and entering.âÂ
âYou can happily leave, Mr. Filmbro,â you offered, looking up at your destination.Â
That had him scoffing. âMy ass is not walking two hours back to my house.âÂ
âThat seems more like a you problem then!â you chirped. âNow are you following me up, or pussying out?â
Once again, pussying out seemed like the obvious choice for the boy. He was not made for missions such as theseâhe was merely meant to watch other people act out said missions in front of his television. Unfortunately, because he was too far away from the film store, it was either sitting it out, waiting for you to come out and do something diabolical, or at least watch over you should you cross a line (if the latter were the case, then Vernon had already failed).Â
âFuck, fuck, fuck,â he kept uttering like a mantra, waiting for you to climb up enough to hold onto the ladder as he began to follow after you. He made the mistake of looking up as you climbed up, and he got a full, HD view of your ass. He tried his very best to look away out of some semblance of respect, but you also made the mindful decision of wearing the shortest skirt known to man. His fuck, fuck fucks! rang louder, causing you to shush him.
âStop freaking out, my guy!â you called out, right on the top of the ladder. âI know my ass is crazy built but this is not the time.â
âThatâs not why Iâm freaking out, _____!â he countered, but knowing you, you did not care for his explanations. He only waited as you pushed open the slight-open window, all the way to the top before climbing inside.
As he reached the top of the ladder, he watched you dust yourself before glancing back at him, ushering him inside. âHere goes nothing,â he said to himself, hands on the top of the window ledge as he put his foot on the sill, pushing himself inside.Â
Vernon dropped into the unknown room, an oof! leaving his mouth as he landed rather ungraciously on his feet. Quickly, he looked up, surroundings rather dimmed due to the lack of lighting. Still, with the help of the moonlight, he could slowly make out the huge smart TV in the middle of the bedroom, beneath it a wide shelf filled with DVDs, some opened and scattered on the carpeted floor. The bed was on the opposite side, right next to the window the two of you had entered in, black and gold sheets tousled and unmade.
As you turned the light on, the boy then made out that Mingyu, in fact, did not have a bed frame, but just a mattress, with the sheets barely done properly. The wall on his left was a full black-shutter closet, where he could see the collection of his designer clothing behind the gaps. Posters were plastered on the rest of the walls, most of them being the Tarantino classics âa reclined, raven-bobbed Uma Thurman watching him with bedroom eyes being the most prominentâwith certain papers of autographs also stuck next to the posters. There was another posterâAmerican Beauty and the girl surrounded with rose petalsâwhich had him quickly looking away.
âJesus,â was all he could say, but he supposed he should not have judged. He himself had only his posters in his roomâexcept he did not have the same taste as a middle-aged incel.
âI know.â You looked around at the familiar space, and the memories you had made here. âImagine having sex in this hellsite.â
Then the image of you having sex with Mingyu on that messy bed came into his mind, and Vernon could have combusted then and there. âI canât imagine,â he mumbled out, walking to the door, opening to make sure no one was inside. â_____, are you sure no oneâs here?â
âSwear on my life, Mr. Filmbro.â
He had to trust you nowâor you had very little respect for your life.Â
He kept eyeing the DVD set you had in your hand. âAre you still not gonna tell me what weâre doing with that?â
You marched over to the shelf beneath the TV, settling yourself down. âCome here and Iâll show you.â You patted the empty carpet space next to you for added emphasis.
Hesitantly, he obliged, sitting cross-legged next to you. Finger pointing as it scoured the shelf, you carefully brought out one of the films from Mingyuâs selection, all the while sliding out a Disney film from your own set. âNow, tell me,â you began, as you showed him the two movies. âDo you think The Dark Knight and Mulan are a good match?â
First pulling a face at the choice, he then resorted to keeping his twist of features as he turned to you. âWhat the hell are you talking about?â
âSo like, you know Mulan is a woman disguising herself as a soldier in order to defeat the Huns and save her fatherâs honour, right,â you explained, though you had a small feeling he was not particularly listening. âAnd Batman is the same thing, except he dresses up as a fucking batâŚstupid furry.â
Vernon could not understand how you compared one of the most beautiful, nuanced depictions of a broken, three-dimensional superhero into a furry, but he needed to get to the bottom of your plan, once and for all. âNo, I mean, what are you doing? Why the hell are we here?âÂ
You tutted extra loud. âIâm gonna swap the CDs, dumbass!â You held up the princess movie. âThought Mingyu could say to me that Disney princess movies sucked, huh?â Then, the classic DVDâs turn to rise. âLetâs see how heâll like watching a talking dragon in China instead of a talking bat in Fantasyland!âÂ
The boy could only watch, shock growing with the successful swap of the movies, the secret Mulan CD safely tucked into the The Dark Knightâs DVD case. âItâs Gotham, actually,â he murmured, but he knew you were not listening. âWait, _____, we really just snuck into your exâs house to swap a few movies?â
You looked up briefly as you began opening another DVD case. âI mean, if you want to trash the place, thatâs fine, but you canât do anymore than what Mingyuâs dirty ass hasnât done already.â
Fair point. âI think youâre going insane. Like, clinically.â He kept looking at the door, which was closed shut. âHeâll kill us if he catches us.âÂ
âForget about us, youâre barely doing anything!â you exclaimed, tossing some of Mingyuâs movies to him. âCan you actually help me instead of complaining?â
What he should have done was argue with you properly, perhaps even make his escape and leave you to dig your own grave. Sure, he could not drive, but was it not just three pedals, a wheel and a dream? He could have left, never to see you again.Â
But then his eyes wandered to the Inception DVD scattered beside you, no doubt collateral damage as you took out the other Nolan films, and saw a Disney Princess movie sitting beside it. Sleeping Beauty, it read out, with the picture of some skinny blonde chick slumbering with a man overlooking her. He thought it a bit strange, almost creepy how this brunette was watching her.Â
And then an idea came into his head.Â
He closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, clamping his lips together. Please forgive me, Mr. Nolan, for what Iâm about to do.Â
Hand reaching out to grasp both DVDs, he opened one of his favourites, unclipping the CD. You glanced at him, swapping the movies around. You could not help your stare lingering a little, watching his lips pout, brows furrowed as he fixed the new CD in the Nolan set, as if the task was a serious one. Well, it was a serious task for you, but you expected more complaining.Â
When he looked up, he managed to catch a small smile on your lips before he quickly looked away. âAnd now youâre slacking,â he accused, closing the DVD and setting it atop the newly improved.Â
âWhatâs the plot for Inception?â you asked him, cracking open The Princess and The Frog.Â
âI thought you knew, since you laughed at me for saying it was my favourite.âÂ
âI donât know the full thing,â you admitted. âThe only reason I knew about it was because Mingyu never shut up about itâŚsorry about that, by the way.âÂ
Vernon sighed. âItâs fineâŚif I made fun of your Disney favourites, then bullying me for Nolan isnât the worstâŚI think.â He looked at your new suggestion before picking out Alien from Mingyuâs selection. âA thief has to implant an idea into this powerful guyâs mind, and he does this through infiltrating other peopleâs dreams. However, he has to be asleep while he does it.âÂ
As you began to laugh, he threw you an irritated look. You shook your head, unable to erase your smile. âThatâs a really good match.âÂ
His eyes widened for a moment, mouth parting. For a moment (and he did not know whether he was going to regret making this assertion), he did not care for Christopher Nolanâs disrespect, after seeing your reaction.
With that, the two of you sat in near silence, the crisp opening and closing of the DVDs, the sliding of the discs being the only sound between the two of you. The Princess of the Frog was successfully matched with the Alienâyou, unsurprisingly, had not watched the movie, but Vernon had watched both (one against his will, which you could guess), and thought it the best match. Brave was slotted into The Revenant's case, while Beauty and the Beast went straight into Panâs Labyrinthâs.Â
âOkay soâŚâ the boy held up the Pocahontas CD. âNative American princess falls for the coloniser? How the fuck are you defending this?â
You could only offer a sheepish smile. âThe soundtrack is really good?â
âKnowing Disney,â he crowed, cracking open the DVD, âThey probably have a song on how terrible the poor Natives are.â
You eyed him, surprised. âHow the hell did you guess that?â
First, Vernon made a face, as if he himself could not believe his excellent intuition. Then, he only laughed a little, taking out the Dances with Wolves DVD from the shelf. âIâve watched enough Disney movies with my sister to know how they work.â
âOh, so you have watched them?â you mused, watching him exchange the discs. âAll that time I thought you only watched what Mingyu watched.â
âNo, I watch foreign indie films like an asshole,â he clarified, shutting the cases, and putting Dances with Wolves back on the shelf. âThe thing is, I still have my grievances against the super popular films. You know the list you mentioned to me the other day?â You nodded. âMost of these film junkies get off on those movies. Iâll admit I like them, but Iâve seen so much better.âÂ
You snorted. âLike Inception?â Vernon watched you for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. âWhat? You asked him, tilting your head.Â
He followed your movementâhe too, craned his head, his brown curls cascading along his forehead. âLike InceptionâŚand better.â
âBetter?â you gasped out, fingers rising to your bottom lip in shock. âDoes Mr. Filmbro prefer a movie over Nolanâs grandâno, best release ever?!â
âHa, ha,â he monotoned, only adding to your amusement. âItâs still his best film! But,â he added, shrugging a little, âI may or may not have lied to you the first time we met. Inceptionâs not my favourite movie.â
âWhat?!â you could barely contain your grin. âOh my God, if I find out itâs a fucking Disney movie, Iâm never letting you live it down!â
âLetâs not go that far,â he jeered, earning a harsh nudge of your elbow. âHey! You should be thanking me for my honesty.â
âHow about you extend that honesty and tell me which movie is your favourite?âÂ
Vernon mocked a ponder. âItâs a hard pass.âÂ
âCome on!â you pressed, scooting a little closer, almost reaching out as if to nudge him some more. âYouâve already committed a felony with me. Telling me your favourite movie is naturally the next step.âÂ
âBecause thatâs obviously how normal human interaction goes,â he countered, sarcasm clear in his voice.
âTell me.âÂ
âNo.â
âTell me!âÂ
âHmmâŚno!â he repeated, assembling the last of the DVDs. âMaybe if we raid Mingyuâs house next time.â
âOh?â Leaning closer, you paused his hands on the movie sets. âDo you want there to be a next time?â
It was then Vernon realised the implications of your question, a consequence of his own suggestion. It was almost comical, how his eyes widened like full moons, and he immediately shook his head. âNow you know thatâs not what I meant.âÂ
âThen what did you mean?â you asked him, and the way he exposed a slight stutter at your question had you laughing. âWould you want to see me again?â
What Vernon wanted to tell you was no, no, no, because another second with you would end with all the blood in his system rushing to his head, and other places. Damn everything and everyone, he would want to see you againâno. No. He wouldnât. He would not.Â
âYou havenât answered the question,â you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.Â
The boy was about to stutter out an answer when the two of you heard a door slam downstairs.Â
You whirled back, eyes instantly darting to the door. They then focused back on you, widened very much like his not long ago. â_____,â Vernon muttered.Â
âMr. FilmbroâŚâ
The furrow of his brow appeared for a split-second before it disappeared at the shuffling underneath. âWhat the fuck do we do?â he gulped out, looking around to find anywhere to escape from. This was itâhe thought he was getting away with trespassing just because you had convinced him to, but that fuckass ex-boyfriend was going to catch them in his bedroom, two inches away from kissing you, andâ
âWait,â you then said, catching his wrist in your hand. He barely had time to react to it before you shot up from your seated position, hauling the boy along with you. He stumbled, but then you nearly made him fall flat on his face as you ran to the shutter closets, sliding them straight open. The inside was a mess of branded clothing and boxes of sports equipment, but there was one opening with just enough for two people in trouble to hide.Â
You first went in, and, with a harsh tug, pulled him in with you. He crashed into you, but you had enough control to slide the shutter door shut. There was so much commotion that when you both finally stilled, breathing harshly as you heard Mingyu enter the room, Vernon blinked back to see your face about two inches away from him.Â
He was going to yelpâstrong on going to, because you sensed his incoming shock, and smacked your hand against his mouth. His eyebrows could have touched the top of his forehead, but what you noticed the most was the warmth of his skin, burning the longer your touch lingered on his lips.Â
The smile you offered him as you put a finger to your lips had him almost passing out.Â
âYeah, man, come round whenever,â was all Vernon could hear, still not comprehending Mingyuâs speech due to your hand. âNo, Minseoâs not here, what the fuck? Why do you wanna know where my sister is?âÂ
Slowly, ever so carefully as not to alert him, you pulled down on one of the blinds of the shutter, spying the movie which he was about to see. Vernon should have been following your movements, but he could only sense you, inching closer and closer to him till you were pressed against him. Of course, you were only trying to better your vision of your ex-boyfriend, but the boy beside you could not focus. The hand on his mouthâGodâhe needed, so badly, to be put down. Your fingers were soft, and although his lips could not help brushing against your palm, everything in him resisted the urge to react.
Quickly glancing at your accomplice in glee, you dropped your hand from his mouth, silently urging him to watch. He could have rebelled against your pulling away, but he instead obliged. Bringing his face next to yours, he glanced at you one last time before peering at the vision that welcomed.Â
There he was, the golden boy, raking his hair as he strolled into the middle of the room, observing the TV before him, and the DVD player sitting at the bottom. He kept humming, as if agreeing with whoever was on the phone. âYeah, yeah, Iâll go to that party laterâŚno, Iâm not bringing _____! You know about that already!âÂ
The boy in hiding quickly snuck a peek at you, who soured a little at the mention. âHmm? Yeah, whatever. What? Nah, Iâm just gonna watch a chill movie before leaving.â Mingyu scanned the films on his shelf. Walking over, he leaned down, sliding out The Shape of Water from his collection, cradling his phone between his shoulder blade and his craned head as he opened the DVD.Â
Vernon could not help pulling a face at Mingyuâs choice of a âchill movieâ being a film about a mute woman wanting to fuck a water creature. You probably did not understand the reference, but by the growing anticipation on your face, you only cared about the scene you two had created, and was about to unfold just then.Â
Mingyu slid the CD into the player, pressing play as he made his way to his frameless bed, settling down in the sheets. âYeahâŚno, no, itâs just starting.â
The two of you could hear clearly the opening credits, which began with the most obnoxious opening music of Disneyâs intro. Vernon was taken aback by how Mingyu did not realise it from that very moment, but considering he was too busy chatting pure shit on the phone, laughing to himself, the boy assumed he was simply waiting for the action to occur.
âAny minute now, Mr. Filmbro,â you whispered, oh-so-fucking close to him. He did not respond, merely a nod.
Craning his head to see through the shutters, he noticed the animation come to life, the ship within dangerous waters sailing with uncertainty. He snuck a quick glance at Mingyuâs face, which started garnering a little confusion.Â
âAre these extra credit scenes? I donât remember any of this,â he heard the OG filmbro complain.Â
You could not help the snort that escaped you. Vernon glared at you, but with little effect. âWhat?â you whispered. âI donât remember him being this thick.âÂ
âWhat the fuck is this cartoonâŚâ the two of you heard Mingyu pipe up. Finally, the buffoon is realising this is not the two-time Oscar winning animation, but the four-time Oscar winning CGI. âThis wasnât in the directorâs cut.â
You still could not believe how your ex-boyfriend was taking this long for the realisation to hit. Even when Eric jumped up on the screen, holding onto the shipâs ropes, the watcher only regarded the character intently, as if he was somehow part of the stranger film.Â
Only when, fifteen minutes in, Atlantis is finally introduced that something clicked in his brain. Mingyu tilted his head, thinking out loud. âWhat the fuckâŚ?â
Getting up from where he sat, he ended the call, informing whoever was on the other side that he would meet later. He took out the CD from the player, examining its exterior. âCanât see shit on this CDâŚâ He was not wrongâyou were smart, choosing the discs which did not have any images, confusing the boy all the more. âMaybe I put in the wrong oneâŚâ
He shrugged it off, taking out The Dark Knight instead, another easy, breezy movie to watch when The Shape of Water did not pull through. Now Nolan was a hard one to criticiseâVernon himself was a huge fan, but seeing Mingyu try to watch it irked him. A good thing, then, was it not, that he was bound for a second surprise?
Repeating the routine, he slid the secret CD, settling back into his frameless bed. âGreat minds, huh?â you whispered to him, and Vernon only rolled his eyes, not enjoying the dig against him in the slightest.Â
âYou dated him,â he griped, watching the movie start up.
âWaste of good looks,â you whispered, your partner-in-crime nodding in agreement. The movie beginning had you both falling silent as a bird of prey hits on one of the soldierâs heads. The scene is set in the cold mountains of China, but the sole audience does not catch it immediately.Â
âSo fucking weirdâŚâ Mingyu trailed off again, leaning forwards. âThis isnât the robbery sceneâŚâ
Of course it was notâthe idiot would not witness one of the best film openings in Vernonâs humble opinion. He would not feast his eyes to the workings of Jokerâs bank robbery, nor the cold one-liners from the incapacitated bank manager.Â
No, what he was served was the Huns crossing the Northern border, which, as the boy finally began to clock after a good ten minutes, was not what he was expecting.
âWhat theâŚâ once again, he heaved himself up, walking over to the player. âNow I know somethingâs wrongâŚâ
Both you and Vernon stretched further close, as much as the closet would allow, to peek at Mingyuâs frustration as he brought the CD out once more, examining the back and front. He then took out some more of his favourites, opening their cases and taking out the CDs, observing them closely. He was suspicious now. How could he not be, when he was expecting incel excellence, but was greeted with the same shit his younger sisterâhis crazy ex-girlfriend, evenâwould usually watch.
He blinked back.Â
His deathly stillness had the two trespassers pausing. You two looked at each other, faces losing any humour, perhaps recognising that he had clocked on. You watched the scene as Mingyu rapidly added one CD after another, expecting one movie only to have a Disney-fied replacement, completely botching his plans. Every movie that received such Disneyfication further enraged him, the grit in his teeth heard, the tick in his jaw visible.Â
The final straw was when the Godfather was slotted in, his all-time, unmatched favourite. There was darkness for the first few minutes, and he sighed too quickly in relief, about to lay back on his mattress.Â
Then, a curly-haired girl, a toddler at best, in huge green glasses becomes visible, being told to open her eyes.Â
âIs this where magic comes from?â
âWhat the fuck?!â
And as a conversation between the little girl and her elderly grandmother blossomed, there was a specific dialogue which sent the young boy over the edge.
âThis candle became a magical flame that would never grow outâŚand it blessed us with a refuge in which to liveâŚa place of wonderâŚAn Encanto.â
You nearly burst out laughing.Â
Mingyu, on the other hand, could have seen red.Â
âWho fucked with my CDs?!â he demanded to no one in particular, though in his mind he knew there was a culprit. âMy fucking CDs, man!âÂ
âDid you do the Godfather swap?â you whispered, barely able to contain yourself.
âTwo special families with one heir that doesnât feel connected to their lifestyle.â Vernon grinned at you, impressed with himself. âIt was too easy.â
âWhere did you even find the Encanto DVD? It wasnât in our set.âÂ
âI found it in his little filmbro shelf.â He ticked his head towards the boy in physical agony. âMy guess is that his sister is a Disney fan and left it in his mancave.â
âOh my God,â you got out, watching the melodramatic scene of your dear ex show rage akin to a teenage boy losing Call of Duty online.Â
âThat fucking bitch,â he guttered, over and over again as he threw the Encanto CD across the room. Those words came out, and the boy behind the shutters stiffened. Okayâthere is rage, and then there is straight up promise of violence. Vernon may not be much of a knight, but if they were caught, he knew he would have to protect you.
He hoped to everything that existed that it would not have to come to thatâVernon would rather fake having a heart attack and have you drag his body out of the Kim Manor.Â
It seemed as that might have been a real possibility, until the boy called out a threat to a name they were not expecting.
âMinseo, Iâm gonna kill you!â Mingyu roared as he stormed out of the room, undoubtedly on his way to destroy her room, even take his anger out on her Jellycat collection.
As you heard his frenzy disappear down the halls, the trespassers took this as the opportunity to escape the closet, Vernon already creating a little distance in case you come too close and cause his passing out.
âWe need to get out now,â he declared as you crept out of the wardrobe, his head whipping to the door which Mingyu left from.Â
You nodded, not quite looking at him as you dashed straight for the final DVD. âOh, Jesus,â He groaned, watching you scramble for the movie, trying horrifically to hide it within your clothes. âYou do realise he can come in any second!âÂ
âOkay, okay,â you said, hurrying over to the window. âWait, you can go first.â
Vernon raised a brow, following after you. âHow come you donât want to go first?â
You only ushered him further, grinning. âYou can peek at my ass again.â
âMy eyes will be closed,â he sniped, already carrying it out, trying his absolute best not to imagine your ass in his mindâmaybe stakeouts for goofy purposes were not for the weak-willed. âYou know, just for that alone, youâre going down first.âÂ
âWhatever suits you, Mr. Filmbro,â you almost chanted, aggravating him all the more as you stepped out of the window, beginning the trek down.Â
He looked down as you descended with one film in hand, still stealing glances at the only door in the room, terrified that the boy would burst through the door, see you both and bring about his downfall. Subconsciously, his fingers hovered just before his mouth, biting the skin around his nails. He knew he should have run himself over with an oncoming vehicle. A messy plan, but still fool-proof.Â
âStop panicking and come down here!â your voice snapped him out of his anxious frenzy. âI know youâre biting your nails off right now!â
The boy instantly repelled his hand, instead furrowing his brow. A little irritatingâscary, as well, reallyâhow predictable he was in your eyes. How quickly you had figured him out.
âAlright,â he said, absent-mindedly as he reached for the windowsill. He peaked down again, not realising how far down the descent truly was. Rationally, he knew it was not the worst drop heâd seen on the first floor, but the nerves had started affecting his mind. Now, this entire time he was watching you take one step, two steps down, but he did not have the strength to follow you.Â
Still, he knew it was now or never.
Vernon was going to be at your heels (or, more anatomically correct, at your head) when he heard a shuffle from behind him.
He whipped his head around, anticipating the worst.
The worst arrived in all his golden-skinned, empty-headed glory. Holding one of his DVDs, Kim Mingyu stood at the doorway, his eyes widening with every second they beheld the intruder, one leg out of the house, the other a moment away from heaving him up.
Oh. Jesus. Christ.
âThe nerd from film theory?â
Vernonâs face dropped.Â
The Nerd from Film Theory? The Nerd from fucking Film Theory?Â
It was then and there, in that exact moment of time, that the filmbro in question did not give a single care for what the popular boy thought of him. Vernon knew everything about this boy (whether he wanted to or not); his every class, his every terrible friend, even his film preferences, thanks to yours truly. Yet Mingyu did not even know his nameâdid not even bother to remember.
It was because of that that he managed to garner some essence of his bravado, finally settling both feet on the ladder steps.Â
He also decided to add in some corrections to Mingyuâs knowledge.Â
âJo March did not need any man after LaurieâŚin fact, she did not need any male support, asshole.â
For added effect, he raised his middle finger, as if the burn was sick enough to hurt.Â
Mingyuâs devastating response was a confused tilt of his head, clearly not understanding his reference.Â
It was enough time for Vernon to hurry his descent down, catching the former more off guard.Â
âWhat the fuckââ was all the boy heard before he quickly tried to travel downwards, feet nearly slipping on the steps by his sheer carelessness. Mingyuâs head popped out from the window, and saw the great ladder leaning against the sill, shocked gaze lowering to where Vernon was descending to.
When his eyes found yours, he could have choked on his gulp. Even more so when you smirked at him.
â_____?â
As Vernon finally dropped off the ladder, dusting himself off, he watched the two of you, staring each other down. When he gauged Mingyuâs fear of you, there was a small part of him that was filled with admiration.
Mingyuâs demand sounded more like a whimper. âWhat are you doing here?â
You only curled your lips further upwards, grinning like a wild animal. It chilled your ex-boyfriend to the bone when you held the Tangled CD up for him to see, with your other hand raising your middle finger.Â
âThis is for calling me a stupid bitch.â
His mouth dropped open. That gave you just enough time to grab onto Vernonâs hand, enveloping your fingers around his wrist.Â
And run for your life.
Vernon let out a yelp as he was yanked forward by your hold, barely hearing Mingyuâs loud curses and retreating back into the house, no doubt to follow after you twoâthe trespasser could only guess, much too occupied by your hand, a guiding beacon of mischief, never absent in his life as you ran and ran and ran out of the garden, out of the sleek maze which you two first entered, catching sight of the open garden gate.
The boy heard distant footsteps coming from the house, and as you both saw your car parked beyond the greater gates, you fished out your keys, finally letting go of his hand to dash over to the driverâs side, jamming the key in the lock. Vernon let out a startled noise as the car unlocked, wasting no time to jump inside, heart beating loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear. Mingyu appeared at the main doorstep at the exact same time, even more shocked to realise he had not noticed his ex-girlfriendâs car casually parked before him.Â
Just as you climbed inside, swivelling the keys into ignition, Mingyu began to run after the car, a mere ten seconds between him and catching you two.
âFuck, fuck, fuck, _____, just start it already!â the nervous boy in shotgun begged, his head swivelling back at every chance, heart lurching at every metre closer the filmnemesis crept.
The car revved to life at your signal.
It was time to get the fuck out of here.Â
âGO, GO, GO!â Vernon screamed at the top of his voice, fisting the handle at the roof of the car as you slammed on the accelerator, racing out of the driveway with Mingyuâs bellowing following after you. Of course, since he was a mere, enraged college student, and you both were in a (slight) state-of-the-art vehicle, you zoomed out of the neighbourhood, his curses fading with every turn further out, you managing to escape.Â
Vernon, because he had never done such a thing before, was still screaming to leave for the next ten minutes until you had had enough, swerving to the side of the road, not far from his DVD store. You almost crashed into the nearby park, frightening a few birds that expected peace within the sidewalk trees, only to be disturbed by a troublesome ex and a film-obsessed loser.Â
You gushed out an exhale, fingers gripping tightly to the wheel, almost as stunned as the boy beside you, who seemed to take in the townâs worth of air in his little body. But then, you realised the gravity of the situation, the sole movie at the back which could not be swapped, and the valiant escape from something you never thought you would come out of alive.
Just then, you burst into laughter.Â
The boy whirled his head to you, who could not stop the tumbles of laughter that escaped your mouth, hanging on to the car wheel as you cackled and cackled like the Wicked Witch of the West. Well, that was what you thought you sounded at that time, but you, as always, did not care.
Only that you were wrongâat least in Vernonâs eyes. You were wrong, because if you were laughing like some Disney villain, then he would have been more pissed offâenraged even. He was instead in awe, shocked at the raw guffawing that spluttered out of you without shame. Had the two of you not evaded a great danger? Nearly been arrested for your legally ambiguous behaviour?Â
For the first time in his life, he was not embroiled with dread.Â
There was no anxiety in his body, no essence of panic at the consequences of your actions. No, he could only stare at you and your mirth, and find himself raising his brows, the beginnings of a scoffed laugh creeping from his lips.Â
The more he looked at you, the more his own laughter joined yours.Â
And then you were both laughing, giggling beyond control at the narrow escape, and the near crash against some tree. Vernon knew how stupid this whole situation was, but strangely, he did not seem to careânot when you did not see it like that. A very odd prospect.Â
After a few minutes, when it finally seemed as if you would settle down, you sighed, leaning back into the driverâs seat. âWe should do that again.â
Despite the amusement lingering, he immediately shut the idea down. âNot a chance.â
You admired the ancient lining of the treeâs bark in front of the car. âThe way you were laughing with me just now, youâd think you want to commit crimes from now on.âÂ
A dramatic roll of eyes. âIâm not going to jail. They donât even have a TV there.â
âYou and your fuck ass movie collectionâŚâ
That brought out another chuckle from the boyâyou smiled at the notion. He then looked at the rearview mirror, where the last movie was splayed, all alone and away from the others. âKind of a shame we missed out on one last movie.â
âRight?â You followed his line of sight. âFuck, Tangled of all movies?â
âWait, isnât that the one with Rapunzel?âÂ
You let out an impressed hum. âA week of seeing my face, and youâre already catching on!â A mischievous raise of brows. âAnother month with me and you can sing all the tracks from the film.â
âYou really shouldnât have this much faith in me, _____,â he said, shaking his head. âPlus, this might be the one movie I didnât watch with Sofe.â He saw you perk up at the new name. âMy sister. Sheâs the one who forced me to watch all those Disney films years ago.â
âI like her already,â you mused, a finger on your chin. You paused for a bit, looking down at your shoes, settled lightly upon the pedals. Then, you started the engine once more. âSoâŚTangled is the only one you havenât watched, huh.âÂ
A glance at you. âYep.âÂ
You looked back, hoping to reverse away from the tree. âRightâŚâ You checked your watch, the car slowly moving out of the pavement. âInterestingâŚsuper duper interesting.â
It was something insane, fantastical the way Vernonâs nerves seemed to hum at the implications. âI donât like where this is going.â
âWhat? I just said that itâs interesting youâve never watched TangledâŚâ
The boy scoffed, crossing his arms. âThis is where youâre gonna force me to watch the stupid movie.âÂ
But then he caught the look of surprise on your face, as if you had been caught. âOh, Jesus, youâre not gonna let me out the car, are you?â
âNo, no!â you countered at once, raising your hands. âWell, yes as in I was hoping you would watch the movie with me, and no, I wonât force you.â You sighed a little, fingers back on the wheel. âYouâve already done so much today. If you want to go home, Iâll drive you straight there.â
He watched your expression, the prepared acceptance, the anticipationâthe sliver of hope, hiding itself amongst the flurry of other emotions. In all honesty, he was tired; the entirety of this evening had exhausted his social battery (which he doubted he had to begin with) and he still had some sound image work left back at the college studio. If it was any other person asking, he would have happily bunked them offâpretended that he had suddenly developed a terminal illness in the span of minutes, and begged them to drive him back home to âlive out the rest of his daysâ.
You, on the other hand, were a problem. He could not let you downânot anymore. Not after today.
When he let out a soft sigh, you were anticipating the worst. Then, he revealed the answer.Â
âLetâs watch a fucking Disney Princess movie.â
VERNON DID NOT WANT TO WATCH A FUCKING DISNEY PRINCESS MOVIE.Â
The moment you opened the door to your houseâa shabby, student house about twenty minutes from campusâstepping inside, he realised there was no way back, and that he had to humour your wish, or else lose respect in your eyes.Â
As you brought him down the small hallway, leading into the little living room, you quickly grabbed the takeout boxes of your flatmates, murmuring hurried apologies as you left the room. The boy looked around, the slight cracks of the blue walls, the 32â TV sitting at the opposite end of the fraying couches. Posters of Bridget Jones, Notting Hill, and other Hugh Grant movies were plastered on one end of the wall, while Vernon nearly had a jumpscare when he caught a life-size cardboard cutout of some Disney heroâthis one unrecognisable.Â
âThatâs the love of my life youâre staring at,â came the voice behind him, and he whirled to see you, a huge bowl of popcorn cradled in your hands. âWhyâre you standing in the middle like an idiot? Sit, sit!â Vernon obliged, making to settle on the sofas when you tutted. âAre you mental? No, sit on the bean bags near the TV!âÂ
How stupid of me to assume I could sit on furniture designed for sitting, he meant to crow, but the moment he settled on the bean bags, he instantly preferred their malleable comfort. When he let out a relaxed sigh, you huffed out a laugh, propping the bowl before him. âSee?âÂ
âI was gonna sayâŚâ Vernon trailed off, watching you press a few buttons on the DVD player. âWhereâs the CD?â
âAlready in,â you said, picking up the remote as you settled in the beanbag next to him, scooting closer. Catching a look at his face, you bellowed, âYes, Mr. Filmbro, I watched it recently!â
âHow recently are we saying?â
â...yesterday evening.âÂ
âAnd this is the masterpiece you wanna show me,â Vernon murmured, sneaking a look back at the cardboard cutout. âDonât tell me heâs the floozy thatâs leading the film.âÂ
You turned the TV on. âFine. I wonât tell you.â
He then looked at you. âOh, Jesus.â
âTrust me!â you then reasoned, putting a hand on the boyâs kneeâthe mere touch had his brain rewiring, nerves all ceasing to work on the one point where your touch remained. You really had to stopâfirst your hand was on his mouth in that damned (blessed) closet, and now this soft reminder. He tried his best not to fix his eyes on your lingering fingers as you carried on, âThis film is a modern classic. I promise.âÂ
Well shit, he thought. When you looked at him like that, you could have convinced him that Quentin Tarantino was a better foot fetishiser than a filmmaker.Â
âOkay,â he said, almost believing in your words.Â
With that, the landing page for the movie turned on, and there were the main characters; he assumed the chick with the long, blonde hair was Rapunzel, and the man behind herâwhich, Vernon thought, did not deserve to be celebrated as a life-sized cardboard cutoutâwas the love interest. Whatever.Â
âLetâs just get this over with,â he mumbled as you pressed the fated Play, anticipating the worst.Â
And as the two of you fell silent, Vernon still holding out on the popcorn, watching suspiciously at the screen, the voice of a man flooded the TV speaker.
âThisâŚthis is the story of how I died.âÂ
The boy immediately reacted, face dropping. âThe fuck?â he got out, catching the WANTED! Poster of the very man he bad-mouthed not two minutes ago.Â
âBut donât worry, this is actually a fun storyâŚand the truth isâŚit isnât even mine.âÂ
âWait, this dude is already dead?â he asked.
âJust watch the movie!â you answered impatiently, making the boy sigh and lean back into the bean bag.
âThis is the story of a girl named Rapunzel. And it starts��with the sun.â
You wanted to keep your eyes rooted to the screen, watch the unfurling of Mother Gothelâs backstory, but that was precisely when the incessant complaining began.Â
âNow why are we already getting context of some random witchâs actions? Less telling, more showing, man!â Vernon kept his arms crossed, shaking his head at the TV. âOh, great, poor little king and queen in their big ass castle!âÂ
âHaving basic sympathy will take you great places, my guy,â you merely said, scoffing down the popcorn in the bowl. âTheir kid just got stolen by some crazy bitch.â
âYeah, yeah,â he murmured, piping down once more when the flashbacks ceased, and the present day was introduced into the story. On the screen, a small, green chameleon entered, camouflaging himself behind a pot of flowers. He guessed that the chick with the long hairâRapunzelâwould be finding him, and, lo and behold, he was right. In all fairness, though, it did not take a film degree to work that out.
He also did not need a film degree to guess that a musical number was about to be introduced, not even ten minutes into the movie. That he worked out all by himself, when the guitar riffs sounded. Beside him, you instantly brightened, smile widening as TANGLED morphed on the screen, the song about to begin.Â
It was around that point when, as he spared you a glance, he realised you were about to sing along.
âOh, Jesusââ
If his life was a romantic film, this would have been the perfect setup; the girl that made his heart flutter was seated dangerously close to him, bean bags already touching with shoulders barely following, watching the cheesiest animated movie. He could have seen the shot now, with his gaze turning rose-y as you would open your mouth and sing along to the song. Of course, you would sing beautifully, better than the original singer, and he would sit there, absolutely mesmerised.Â
Oh, he was stunned alright.Â
âSEVEN AM THE USUAL MORNING, LINE UPâ!â
The boy flinched at the sheer volume of your chantâscreech would be the better word for it, for he guessed singing was not one of your natural talents.Â
You could not see his judgement at all, eyes closed and clutching your fists to your chest, continuing the song. âSTART ON THE FLOOR AND SWEEP TILL THE FLOORâS ALL CLEEEEEANNNNâ!â
A scoff escaped him, not quite believing the scene before him. He was shocked to silence, the movieâs music now in his background, the forefront being your attempt to outsing the princess. Either no one had told you how horrendous your singing was, or you simply did not care for the opinions of others. A part of him hoped that it was the latterâfor you to be so comfortable in singing away, despite what others thought, made his judgement disappear.Â
Shamelessly you sang the entire number, up to the point where the scene cuts and the supposedly hot love interestâwhose name was Flynn Rider, apparently, which he should have known if he just read the poster at the start of the movie like a normal viewerâwas now trying to steal the crown jewels.Â
Vernon was too busy thinking about how stupid âFlynn Riderâ was as a name to realise that another song had just started. Immediately you changed your tune, your tone lowering, almost sultry.Â
This time, you looked at him when you started singing.Â
âLook at you, as fragile as a flowerâŚâ
âAyo?â A glance at the TV screen, where Mother Gothel was now singing. âAnother song?â
But you did not answer his question, only singing further as you reached your hand out to him. âStill a little sapling, just a sprout!â You continued, and, at that, your hand patted his mess of curls atop his head, mirroring Mother Gothelâs actions.Â
Blinking back repeatedly, he could not even shrug it off, stunned once again by how you were casually able to touch him and not feel anythingâwhile his entire system shuts down like a lagging desktop when it tries to run the Sims.Â
The overdramatic flair was present in your singing, changed from the sweetness of the previous song. It was crazy how you remembered each word, not slipping at any chorusâyou were a true fan, a committed admirer of the film. Even he could not comprehend knowing every single line of his favourites.Â
It was admirable indeedâto love a film as you did this one.
It was what made Vernon smile a little, turning away from your melodrama and focusing on the screen, where Mother Gothel now threatened to never be asked to leave the tower. Again.
This time, he would give the movie a chance. Thank God he decided to wake up.
The movie picked up the pace instantlyâhe had not expected Flynn to meetâand be whacked out by Rapunzelâs frying panâso quickly, and had reflected her dejection when the mother screamed at her. He could tell where this was going, especially with the thief now in the closet, but he found himself grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl without turning away from the screen.
By the time the third song of the movie came around, he was taken aback that it arrived further in, surrounded by the thugs of the Snuggly Duckling. Without realising, he turned to you, anticipating you breaking out into a song, but you were merely watching the movie, bobbing your head along to the beat.
Noticing his stare, you glanced at him. âExpecting a show?â
âSince you were giving them out without request, I figured this time would be like any other.â
You snorted, grabbing the popcorn. âIâm saving my heavenly voice for the best song, actually.â
Vernon mocked a gasp. âSo youâre telling me Mother Knows Best isnât the best feature?â
âDonât chat shit, Mr. Filmbro, because Mother Knows Best is one of the top five.â
âI look forward to seeing which song youâre holding out for,â he only said, turning back to the movie again. The popcorn ran out about this time, and you shot up from your bean bag, promising more as you exited the room, leaving him to continue.Â
By the time you returned, the protagonists were escaping, chaos ensuing all around them with the guards, his partners and that eccentric white horse chasing them. Ending up in the cave, they recognise a lack of way out, and although Vernon was aware that the movie ends on the happiest note, a small part of him filled with dread.Â
That dread disappeared instantly when Flynn confessed his little secret.
âEugene Fitzherbert?!â The boy demanded.
You chuckled at his disdain. âYeah, Flynn Rider was hotter. Eugene Fitzherbert ages him about forty years.â
âFlynn Rider was silly, but Eugene is straight up diabolical.âÂ
âHe is still fuckable regardless!â you shushed him, raising your pointer at him. âYou wish you had his sex appeal.â
The boy rolled his eyes. âYeah, let me just change my name to Bartholomew Whiteman real quick.â
âHey!â you whacked him on the arm, this time laughing heartily at his quip. âLet my man live!â
He decided to spare your fictional man any more bullying, taking in the town atmosphere where the two adventurers and Maximus had now ended up. âOoooo, the castle dances are my favourite scenes!â you gushed, scooping popcorn in one hand and eating with the other. âWait, look, look at the braid!â
âJeez, Iâm looking!â he insisted, watching the girls braid Rapunzelâs hair. Flynnâwhich Vernon is continuing to identify him as, because Eugene was too much for himâstared at her longingly at the results. Vernon used the popcorn as an excuse to gaze at you matching Flynnâs longing at the screen. Your head rested on your knees, locking your hands in front of them, forming a lazy smile. This smile remained throughout Rapunzel and Eugeneâs activities, even to the point when the couple were settled in a boat, waiting for the lights.Â
âItâs happening,â you declared, the smile widening as you released your legs from your hands. âOh my God, itâs fucking happening!â
Raising the volume, the boy watched the screen, where thousands of lanterns were sparking alight at the king and queenâs signal. The lanternsâ lights broke across the borders of the town, melting into the sea, the docked ships. Rapunzel had not noticed though, too busy dropping flower heads upon the waterâs surface, Flynn helpfully holding out the bunch.Â
As the princess dropped another upon the waterbed, she finally noticed the beginning.
It was then Vernon heard your favourite Disney song.
âAll those days, watching from the windowâŚAll those years, outside looking inâŚâÂ
You followed this time, not as loud as the other songs, quiet and soft, as if letting the blonde shine in her song. âAll that time, never even knowing, just how blind Iâve beenâŚââÂ
You exhibited the same excitement as Rapunzel, who, noticing the lanterns, threw off Flynnâs balance, hanging onto the curling bow of the boat.
The boy, however, was not really focused on the screen.
Because the music that surrounded the two crept into his ears, playing the strings of his senses; because the lights were off save for the TV, shining its dimmed lighting upon your face, making you glow with the dark purples, blues, golds of the Tangled scenery. He lost all interest in everything because you were looking something out of a daydream, watching the events of the movie as if they were scenes of salvation. The two of you were definitely not on any kind of boat, merely sitting on bean bags. Despite all of that, he began to floatâswaying from where he sat, as if he was truly settled on water.Â
âNow Iâm hereââ You put your hand to your chestâ âBlinking in the starlightâŚnow Iâm here, suddenly I seeâŚâ
You kept singing the lyrics, voice more subdued than your last outbursts, and Vernon could only watch you, the pure love of this song radiating off your very pores. Vernonâs anticipation rose with every octave of the singerâs voice rising, eyes never leaving your face, the parted mouth.Â
âStanding here, itâs oh! so clearâŚ!â
As the viewers themselves were about to observe the thousands of lanterns Rapunzel witnessed, Vernon himself waiting, he made the mistake of averting his gaze from you, if only to see the grand reveal.
It was what made you unconsciously envelop your fingers with his, clasping his hand with yours.
He whipped his head to yours, eyes widening to the point of spilling.Â
You were already looking at him.Â
When you sang the next lyrics, Vernon could have melted molten.
âIâm where Iâm meant to be!âÂ
And as the lanterns surrounded the protagonists, lighting up the entirety of the night, you sang the chorus to the boy in your little college flat, no one to witness it but two of you.
âAnd at last I see the light! And itâs like the fog has lifted!âÂ
Your voice was hoarse now, all the screech-singing catching up to you. Vernon, in another lifetime, would have instantly resisted, ran for the hills if it was literally anyone else in the room but you.
âAnd at last I see the light! And itâs like the skyâŚis newâŚâÂ
But it was youâyou holding his hand tightly, you looking at him with the light of the lanterns in your eyes, you opening up to him in your little haven, away from anyone else. Granted, you could have offered this performance to anyone, but he liked to thinkâshit, he was truly hopingâthat you would not have done this for anyone else.Â
You would have only sang your favourite song to him.Â
âAnd itâs warm, and real, and bright! And the world has somehowâŚshiftedâŚâ
Vernon watched you halt a moment, waiting for the next verse, your hand tightening in his.Â
âAll at onceâŚeverything looks differentâŚâ
You were rightâthe world had shifted underneath him, stilled under the dimmed lighting of this dingy living room. The two of you now faced each other, music still tuning from the TV, but the characters long forgotten, as if they never existed. Yes, you were right in that everything looked different, seemed different, as if he was seeing you for the very first time.Â
âNow that IâŚsee you.â
Shit. You were rather beautiful before him.
You paused then, watching his reaction. You tilted your head, thoroughly amused by the sheer awe that radiated from his face, but then you noticed his chest rise and fall, more unevenly the longer you observed him.Â
The next detail you caught was how his eyes darted downâdown to your lips.
It was the lips, which were watched so intently, that parted.
You attempted at a little humour. âOut of all my talents, I guess singing isnât one of them.â
But Vernon did not respond with words. Sure, he would have agreed with you, but singing was irrelevant now. Out of all these infinite talents you possessedâyour natural charm, your ease in making him laugh, your trespassing and eventual escaping of such crimesâVernon could not have given less of a shit about singing. Not when you were before him, bathed in an unnatural, extraordinary light, soft music playing in the background. Almost as if he had adorned the rose-tinted glasses, courtesy of the universe.
In any romantic comedy, he would have kissed her.
The boy was not known to be courageousâanything but brave. Real Life, Not Clickbait Vernon would have left by now. The Real Vernon should have pussied out.Â
You, however, looked a little too beautiful to be treated with cowardice.Â
âAre you going to kiss me, Mr. Filmbro, or are you gonna make me wait till the end of the movie?â
He parted his mouth for a split second, gob-smacked at your question. The twinkle in your gaze, though, had him spluttering out a harsh chuckle, craning his head down at the sheer absurdity of it all. But then he looked up, smiling, not quite believing what he was about to do.
âI should make you wait.â
That was what he said. What Vernon instead did was finally grow the two balls that were supposed to be hidden in his pants, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.Â
Now the boy always wondered whether the movies were rightâwhen mouths would touch, move against each other, whether a fire would ignite between souls, whether one really felt as if they were not of this world.
It seemed like Hallmark-level bullshit to him, but the moment his lips touched yours, he began to float out of this room. A soft hum reverated from you, approval at his actions, and he could have burst as he felt you smile against him.Â
Maybe Disney was right. God, he really did not want to be in such accord with that stupid corporation, but they were onto something with the fireworks, the orchestral singing when couples kiss. He himself felt a choir-like chant all around him as he brought his hand to your face, angling it slightly so he could gain better access, boost your pleasure as he delved slightly deeper.
He was unstoppable. He was alive and ecstatic and delirious, opening his mouth wider, his other hand now finding your waist, snuffing out any distance between you two. It was not like he was a pro in these situationsâhe had only ever had one serious girlfriend, and that was at an age where a boy could get away with merely âfrench-kissingâ (as the kids back then would have gloated) your significant other. Again, he may have fooled around a little in college, too, but never had he experienced this haze of lust, this newfound desire.Â
This desire enhanced further when you slipped your tongue from the seams, sliding it along his as an invitation for more, and he could have honestly thanked that heinous hag Walt Disney for making movies you adored so much, to the point of showing him and landing him in this situation. Of course he indulged you, opening his mouth enough to let you inside. The sensation of your tongue slipping past his lips had a soft noise releasing from his throat.Â
Tangled was all but forgotten, the two of you too occupied being entangled with each other. You pulled him even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers brushing against the ends of his hair. The soft touches had every strand of his locks standing on edge, a wave of delight washing over him.Â
You were sagged into the bean bag, Vernonâs weight upon you sinking you further, but you did not mind itârelished it, his scent engulfing you, the sighs and soft murmurs of his every exhale haunting your eardrums. Who would have thought that a boy who could recite every Joker quote from The Dark KnightâVirgin Supremism you termed the talentâhad this kind of game hidden underneath? How was he able to ignite such powerful emotions from you?
How was Vernon âFilmbroâ Chwe able to make you feel so good you did not realise Tangled finishing right before you?
The two of you could have spent all night intertwined in each other, perhaps would have gone past the boundaries of mere making out. However, between the haze of his soft whispers to you, your own mist swimming in your head, you heard the starting music of the DVD reverting to the home page, and like instinct you opened your eyes, finding that the movie had ended.
You must have paused, because Vernon immediately stopped, concern staining his pretty features. His knitted brow, eyes laced with nervousness, shamed you for ever stopping. âWhatâs wrong? Did I do something?â
âOh, no, no!â You felt like a fool for the answer you attempted to give him. âItâs just, umâŚâ
He followed your line of sight, turning around. Once he realised, he looked back at you, you surprised to find a little shock replacing his concern. âWe were going for that long?â
Your smirk had his stomach knotting. âThis is what happens when you make out with someone you like, Mr. Filmbro.âÂ
He could not respond, looking away as his flushed face managed to redden some more. You only laughed at him, playing with the hem of his shirt, his arms still steady as they caged you. âYou are so lucky, you know.â
He quirked a brow. âAnd why is that?âÂ
âI would never miss the second half of Tangled for a man.â
It was so incredibly stupid, how he felt a semblance of pride at the notion.âHappy to know Iâm an exception.â
âYou do know Iâm gonna make you watch it again so you can say youâve watched it.â
Vernon tilted his head to the side, lost in thought. You watched him, anticipating. âThis is the part where you say youâd rather Mingyu jump you than rewatch Tangled.âÂ
âWell yes, butâŚâ He glanced over his shoulder, where your shelf of DVDs were stacked, a particular movie which had caught his eye previously now standing out all the more. âI, uhâŚâÂ
He looked back at you, and the self-conscious glint in his gaze had you watching his every movement. âI was hoping to show you my favourite movie instead.â
You were ready to make a comment on how you prided on avoiding Nolan films like the plague, but then you remembered the conversation at Mingyuâs house. Your eyebrows could have touched your hairline. âYou said I could never know.â
âWellâŚâ a small smile escaped him, slowly pulling himself away. âIf I am to be your exception, _____, then I suppose you can be mine.â
Gaping at him, you could only keep silent as he, with great effort on his part, heaved off you, making his way to the shelf. He was lucky, you thoughtâhad he been a moment slower, that comment alone would have had you kissing him again.Â
What quickly caught your attention was him sliding his pointer finger through your collection, a series of your favourites. The anticipation was rising, you not quite believing that Mr. Filmbroâs favourite film was within your arsenal. Weeks ago, you would have bullied him relentlessly for the ironic hypocrisy.
When he pulled out the fated DVD, you let out the greatest laugh.
The boy instantly frowned, but you did not realise, cackling and cackling away at the selection, the final boss of Vernonâs favourite film, nestled between his fingers. âShut up,â he mumbled, but again, you did not hear him, lost in the shrill sound of your laughter, erupting the room to life.Â
âOh, Jesusââ Your chortling did not seem to stop, almost to the point of hiccups. âYour assâŚthis entire timeâ!â
âAnd suddenly Iâm leaving!â Vernon announced, getting up and about to drop the DVD.Â
He did not last long in his determination when you grabbed onto the end of his shirt, grinning still. âThank God youâre not a Nolan kiss-assâŚthatâs all Iâm saying.â
All he could do was stand like an idiot, the tips of your fingers caressing the skin just above his trousers. âBut I am a Nolan kiss-ass,â he murmured, crossing his arms.Â
âThatâs what I thought, too, but this filmââ you jerked your head towards the prize in his hand. âYouâve redeemed yourself.â
âStop it,â he only said, crouching down to pull out the Tangled CD, replacing it with the new, and, in his opinion, improved movie. âThis is why I didnât want to tell anyone.â
âAnd nobody will know,â you assured him, watching the movieâs main menu pop up, the PLAY option highlighted. âThisâll be our secret.â
âFirst the trespassing,â Vernon began, sitting down beside you, âThen the tampering of movies, and now this.â He grabbed the remote, about to play the movie. âHow much more are we gonna sneak around?â
You looked at him, and the smile you offered him had him glancing awayâonly for a second. âHave you not had fun, though? Sneaking around with me?â
Normally, in a situation where he had zero balls, he would have evaded such a question, not fanned the flames of your fire. But tonight he had watched a Disney movie with you, felt your fingers caressing his skin, had even kissed you in the purple hues of Tangledâs light. Tonight, he could conquer the world.
What would answering a heated question do any harm?
Vernon locked eyes with you then, trying to fight his smile. âI think I could have fun with you anywhereâŚin secret or for anyone to see.â
As something in your gaze shifted, he turned the film on (an entendre which was completely intentional).Â
Once again, the two of you were in the same position, watching yet another film, this time anotherâs all time favourite. The narrator began in a strange, European accent, explaining the tale of an unfortunate princess, much like Rapunzel, and her dire situation.Â
Although it was undoubtedly his most treasured film, the boy had a very hard time paying attention when all he could feel was that penetrating stare of yours, capable of revealing his very soul from beneath his measly shirt. Even when the stranger main character was introduced, following his main routine in his strangest abode, Vernon was not particularly concentrating anymore.
Not when he heard your voice, a soft question amongst the gaudy music of the 2000s. âDo you mean that, Vernon?â
And perhaps it was because you said his actual name, especially when your voice sounded likeâŚlike that. Like something from a perfect movie soundtrack, akin to the end-credits of an unforgettable TV show.Â
Because he was too occupied with simply admiring you, he merely nodded, biting the inside of his cheek.
And because you were too busy admiring him, his words, the entire night where you had felt pure, euphoric joy, you did Mr. Filmbro a little dirty by making a decision that negated his film.
You shifted closer once more, hands reaching out to hold his face.Â
This time, Vernon was prepared when you kissed him.
There was a certain eagerness in your lips this time which was newerâmore enjoyable to his senses. It made sense now, why all these couples in movies made out for hours and hours on end. He felt as if he could kiss you forever, move against your mouth, delve inside until his tongue memorised your very imprint.Â
You moaned a little louder this time, and the very sound had his heartbeat racing, moreso when, as he pressed you against him, shifting upon his beanbag, he knew then and there that something in the air shifted.
Last time, you had stopped. This time, there was no such indicationâthe very thought had him skirting his hands around you, holding you tight enough to never let go.
Stillâeven with such possibilities, there was no way you and him would escalate to the point of losing his virginity.
Whatever happens though, he will still watch the end of his favourite film.Â
Whatever happens, Vernon would not be having sex with you if Shrek was playing in the background.
VERNON LOST HIS VIRGINITY WITH SHREK PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND.
Certainly not his greatest achievements, considering he could not focus on his favourite movie, but it was certainly not his fault. You wereâto put it quite plainlyâhot as fuck.
He did not leave until the very next day becauseâas he had stated that nightâhe still wanted you to watch Shrek, and did, somehow, end up watching it properly. You did not stop teasing him, and he did not stop shutting you up by kissing you senseless.Â
Unfortunately, the boy did have college the next day, so he had to leave at some point, but not without promises of meeting you again. This time, however, you two did not continue the crimes he committed with you. You and Vernon were not modern-day Joker and Harley Quinn.
When the two of you were not terrorising Mingyuâs livelihood, you decided to hang out at the filmstore, where it all began. Vernon would host weekly movie nights, and both of you would eat popcorn and watch each otherâs recommendations, scoring them differently in accordance to what was most important for each other.
For the film majoring student, the rating was influenced not only by the actorsâ performances, but also from the intricate storyline, the character developments, their relationships. A story, for him at least, was about relationships. Good cinema was about the chemistry between two actors, the emotional connection they had not just with each other, but also their effect on the audience. The actual editing of the film, too, was another bullet point in his criteria.
Your rating, on the other hand, differed slightly.Â
âMichelle Yeoh is such a MILF,â was your only comment upon finishing Everything Everywhere All at Once.Â
This comment nearly made Vernon lose his mind. âOne of the greatest movies of this decade, and this is your only input?â
âBut am I wrong, though?â
Vernon sighed a little at thatâat the end of the day, you were absolutely in the right. There was a reason Crazy Rich Asians went platinum in his dingy little room.Â
Of course, it was not just his personal recommendations that played. You had compiled a list of your all-time favourites, going beyond Disneyâs borders, and Vernon was introduced to the dashing timeless genre of the rom-com. Now having a younger sister who (he thought) was a basic bitch meant he did possess some knowledge of the genre, but he had never really sat down and watched a rom-com without falling asleep in Sofiaâs bed.Â
For you, though, he braved the most famous romances, which he found himself enjoying more than he would have likedâmore so when he found one of his favoured actors in 10 Things I Hate About You.
âHeath Ledger singing was something I never thought I needed,â Vernon commented as the ferocious couple finally kissed.Â
âAnd this is the same fella who was the Joker in your little Nolan film,â you reminded him, as if he was not aware already. âOh, and he was the gay cowboy in that movie.â
âGay cowboy?â His confusion lasted for approximately thirty seconds before he groaned, pushing you over on your beanbag. âMy god, are you talking about Brokeback Mountain?â
âYes, that one!â you exclaimed, picking up the TV remote. âMy guy has range, but him as a high schooler is still my favourite role.â
âYou do realise how bad that sounds, right?â
âYou know what I mean,â you said, waving him off as you began searching for the next movie. âNow, Two Weeksâ Notice or The Proposal?â
Vernon endeavoured to weigh in on the options. âWhich one do you think Iâd like?â
âWell, both have Sandra Bullock in themâŚâ
He looked over both DVDs. âNow thatâs a white woman I can get behind.âÂ
You scooched a little over to him, locking your hands together. âWe can watch something you likeâŚâ When he knitted his brows together, not quite answering you, you went on, almost unable to look him in the eye. âYouâve been super nice, you knowâŚsitting through all my favourites.âÂ
The boy could not help it, unable to let a smirk slip. âIs this _____ appreciating me for once?â The beginnings of his shit-eating attitude did not develop, since your smack on his arm completely snuffed it out. âOw, damn!â
âYou deserved that,â you muttered, beginning to scoot away until Vernonâs hand on your wrist stopped you.Â
When you focused your gaze at him, he already beat you to it. âLetâs watch both today.âÂ
It was silly, how that made your heart beat faster. âReally? You would watch two rom-coms in a row?â
As his hand pulled you closer, his stare had you almostâalmostânervous. âIâve done worse for you.â
âVery true,â you said, absent-minded, more lost in the twinkle of his eyes. âVery, uhâŚgood point.â
Vernon thanked all the higher bodies that may have existed for the pure, unadulterated rizz he was attempting to spew. âIâm full of good points,â he crowed. âNow, are you going to stare at me all night, or are we going to watch Sandra Bullock?â
Although your cheeks burned, you pushed him off, earning a chuckle from him. âDonât get ahead of yourself, Mr. Filmbro. The only man Iâll be staring at will be Ryan Reynolds in The Proposal.â
All of the boyâs suave attitude dissipated at his shock. âThe Deadpool guy?!â
âRyan Reynolds did have range before,â you explained, shaking your head. âThen the superhero bug bit him.â
âWhat a shame,â he only said, as if Vernon did not follow the Deadpool universe to the point of possessing special editioned comics in his room. Still, he happily slotted the CD inside the player, and excused himself to make more popcorn for the two of you.
As the boy prepared snacks, glancing back every time at the opening scene, he managed to sneak a look at you, eagerly watching the screen.Â
He could only smile, putting all the popcorn in the huge bowl before hurrying back to you.Â
THIS WAS PROBABLY THE FIRST TIME YOU WORE A SUIT TO A CINEMA. PERHAPS THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME YOU WORE A SUIT AT ALL.
Admittedly, it was not as if you had intended to go into the cinema in formal attireâor, at least the only formal clothing you had. Your first plan was to steal something from your fatherâs wardrobe, but when you tried it on, it did not fit properly, and you refused to look like an idiot in public.
Not that you cared much about looking like an idiot in public before, but there was another person to look out for. And that person, although had already done embarrassing enough actions for you, did not want to push it further. One more ceremonious act of humiliation, and Vernon would have run a thousand miles from youâor that was what you thought.Â
You observed your cinema fit one last time before your bathroom mirror, fixing the lapels for the nth time. Your rented three-piece suit was almost a second skin, waistcoat snug underneath the tweed jacket, matching coloured trousers adorned alongside. You borrowed some Oxford brogues from a friend, which made you realise that you had more posh friends than you knew. You tried to find a hat similar to the one Cillian Murphy wore in the promotions, but because you did not have the wardrobe of a middle aged man, you resorted to let your head rest.Â
All of this elaborate planning to see Nolanâs (apparently) greatest release yetâOppenheimer.Â
Because the cinema was not far away from you, you decided to walk, messaging your date to let him know that you were on your way. You were certain he was already there in the cinema; Vernon, since you had started hanging out more with him, had only ever talked about Nolanâs upcoming epic. You swore if you recited the IMDB plot out to him during sex, he would have spunked within minutes (a mental note to experiment on that later). His excitement had you booking midnight release tickets, which consequently made him so happy you thought you had invited Nolan to the town cinema.Â
The night, furthering along, had beautified the black sky, stars twinkling on your journey. The consistent vibrations from your phone indicated the boyâs imminent excitement, and you smiled, double-checking your formal attire once more. You would have romanticised the nighttime further but living in student area brought you right back to fearing slightly for your life, so you quickened your step, cinema already a close speck in the distance.Â
You knew you were nearer to the destination when the flocks of pink and black grew, the cowboy hats and fake pipes all piling up in your vision. Seeing the pink reminded you of Barbieâs influence, also being released tonight alongside the more serious counterpart.Â
A small part of you really wanted to see the midnight release for the new movie. The original plan most people were following was either to watch Oppenheimer and then Barbie, or the other way around. You were so close to procuring tickets for the latter, but decided that it was important to accompany Vernon to the seemingly bigger release. After all, you were never as excited about films as the dear film major you had rather grown to like.
Another vibration of your phone, and you finally decided to stop ignoring said-film major and text him, possibly informing you of his arrival.
mr. filmbro: yo where u at
mr. filmbro: theyâre too many pink mfs out here im getting suffocated
You rolled your eyes.
_____: im coming to save u kitten.
mr. filmbro: :0
Once you were inside, it was a complete sea of pink and black and grey. Two sides, which one would assume would be opposing, were all celebrating, sharing their drinks, anticipating when the theatre doors would open to let everyone in. Within this myriad of fans, you tried to search for the most mentally ill oneâthe one who you were certain had a finer three-piece set than you, who would have happily stolen Cillian Murphyâs set clothes to truly honour the movie.Â
Strangely enough, after a few minutes, you could not find him, even after confirming your seats. You searched for anyone wearing anything devoid of colour, but did not find the boy. This time, you decided to bother him, calling him and pressing the phone to your ear.Â
âWhere are you, kitten?â you purposely growled, lowering your voice an octave. âDaddyâs waiting.â
âKitten actually killed himself after hearing that,â was his purposeful monotone.Â
âCan you resurrect yourself for me real quick? Iâm tryna find where you are.âÂ
âIâm next to the Oppenheimer popup.â Immediately you tried to find it, scouring through the crowds. âI figured youâd find me easier.â
Scoffing, you ignored the Barbie stalls, walking further ahead. âHow very smart of you to wear Oppenheimer clothing while standing next to it. So much easier to find you, isnât it?â
He did not retort back, instead inciting your excitement. âWait, I think I can see youâŚ?â
Your eyes darted over to the fresh faces of the Nolan fans, all taking pictures of the cast pop-ups. What you were observing were the men and women, all lack of colour.Â
What your gaze ended up on was someone completely different.Â
What you were expecting was a mini-Oppenheimer, the too-large blazer, the sashed hat upon pretty brown curls. What you received instead was a boy engulfed in all the pinks of the colour wheel.
Pink was the colour of his top, bubblegum pink the colour of the stringy fur coat sporting over said shirt. Magenta was the colour of his flared trousers, whilst rose was the colour of his converse. What topped off the entire look was the hot pink cowboy hat, sitting perfectly upon his wavy locks, completing his fitâa fit which was perfect for the Barbie movie.Â
It was around that point that he caught on to your stareâthrough the oceans of opposing fans, he, too, finally found you.
Vernon heard your curse murmur through the phone. âOh my fucking God.â
That was when his own gaze roamed over you, shocked and shameless amongst the crowds. Not that the crowds mattered, not anymore. He was a little nervous, he had to admit it to himself, only because there were so many people, and they were only watching for the fad, for the trend. A part of him wanted just you and him in this midnight cinema, the biggest official date yet.Â
But then seeing you here, in all your black-clad, Oppenheimered glory, had stunned him to his core. Although he had specifically brought you here to watch the movie, he had completely expected you to arrive in the pinkmania fit. Because you had kindly booked tickets for his anticipated film, he thought at least to participate in the Barbie craze fit.
It was like instinct, how his steps gravitated towards you, his phone still pressed against his ear, very much like you. You followed him slowly, hearing his ragged breaths through the speaker, watching him walk closer and closer until you both were a mere couple of feet away.
Only then did you drop the call, your hands at your sides as you admired him. It was a while before any of you spoke.Â
Like always, you spoke first. âTell me the fur coat is yours.â
A ghost of a smirk. âSofiaâs.â
âStealingâs like second nature to you now, isnât it?â you taunted.Â
Like always, he dodged your taunts. âI thought you were gonna wear all pink.â
âI thought you were gonna wear all black.â
He tilted his head. âWell, I thought since we were watching both moviesâŚâ
Your confusion was clear, the corner of his lips curling further up. âWasnât Oppenheimer first?â
He then went inside his flared trouser pockets, fishing out two ticketsâits colours matching his outfit. âI know how much you wanted to see Margot Robbie be silly.âÂ
âI did!â you exclaimed, taking the tickets from him, admiring how pretty they were designed, especially when compared to the Oppenheimer marketing tickets. In your admiration, though, you noticed a detail which had your excitement faltering. âWait, are you sure? It says the movieâs at the same time.â
Vernon then checked the timings, mouth parting. âOh shit. Didnât think about that.â He shook his head, mouth straightening in a line, dejected. âThis is what happens when I try to do something romantic.â
âI have to give points for effort,â you offered, bringing your hands to his wrist. âHey, itâs okay. Letâs watch Oppenheimer, honestly. Cillian Murphy is still hot when heâs old.â
âNo, no,â he countered, clasping your hands on his wrist. âItâs chill.â He glanced down. âLetâs do Barbie first.â
You attempted to argue him on this, but he simply let go of your hands, with his one hand wrapping around your waist, and the other handâs wrist being checked for the time. You bit back a smile at his mere actions, relishing his fingers skirting under the suit, the waistcoat. âVernon,â you attempted.Â
â_____,â he said back, staring at you with an awe that you would have deserved had you worn a couture gown, not some rented hand-me-downs.Â
You knew he would not take no for an answer now. âBut what about Oppenheimer?â you asked anyway as the two of you made your way to the cinema.Â
Vernon only pretended to think extremely deeply of the situation, making you elbow him playfully. âNow tell me, Dear Disney Hag, how did we enter Mingyuâs house?â
âWhy, we walked straight in!â you answered like an over-enthusiastic student, in which he sarcastically clapped for you.Â
âRight on.â As you both walked towards the Barbie theatre, the opposing movie was being screened right beside you, where people were bursting in. âSee how everyone is walking in right now?â He gave you a knowing glance.Â
That knowing glance had you scoffing in excited disbelief. âMy God! Look at you, all ready to commit crimes!â you looped a hand around his arm. âI have taught you well, young man.â
He patted your arm. âMr. Filmbro has come a long way from chatting shit about your movie taste.â
âSo you admit it?â you leaned in. âDisney makes better movies than your flop directors?â
âThatâs a completely different claim,â he clarified. âMy taste in films is objectively better.â
âStill doesnât change the fact you're watching the Barbie movie before Oppenheimer.â
He rolled his eyes, tugging you closer. âThatâs âcause I like you a lot, Disney HagâŚâ
You did not stop your smile from lighting up your entire face. âYouâre not the most insufferable filmbro Iâve dated I guessâŚâ
âI better be the last filmbro you date,â he muttered, watching over the last of the crowds, where they now stood, waiting to enter the theatre.
The longer you waited to answer him, the more incredulous his face became, brows knotted in disbelief. You only chuckled, leaning in and pressing your lips upon his. Of course, he was taken aback, but surprises like these were pleasant, welcomed with open arms as Vernon closed his eyes, pulling you in.Â
The moment the line started quickening you broke away, only to make sure no one skipped in front of you and him, and thus deal with yours and his passive aggression. You could not help the giggle that escaped you at breaking away from his lips, relishing in his dazed state.Â
Honestlyâyou truly would not have minded being anywhere with him.
When it was finally your turn to go inside the Barbie screening, you held tightly to his hand. âLetâs go, Mr. Filmbro.â
Vernon only smiled. âRight behind you, _____.â
And as the two of you entered the theatre, hand-in-hand, the boy learned that perhaps he, too, would have gone anywhere with you.Â
#alice recs#group: svt#member: vernon#genre: fluff#author: amourcheol#trope: college au#type: oneshot#fia sucks#fia loser#i guess you could sayâŚ.. they were filmnemesises to filmlovers#i have to respect the filmbro research you did for this fic#vernonâs so real for getting annoyed at that customer who asked the stupid ass lord of the rings question#iâm not even into lord of the rings like that but DONT PISS ME OFF#VERNON STOP THROWING DISNEY ADULT ALLEGATIONS AT HER đ#vernon internally beefing with mingyu during the little women discussion was cinematic in my head#AND HE'S SO RIGHT#JO SHOULDâVE BEEN ON HER OWN IDGAF#her contact name being normal disney enjoyer is killing me#mc asking him who it was as if she recruited several more people to carry out her plan#vernon being a mean girls anti i just killed myself#PLEASE FORGIVE ME NOLAN FOR WHAT IM ABOUT TO DO IS CRAZY#mc is so right about the pocahontas soundtrack#colors of the wind changed my life#âvernon may not be much of a knight#but if they were caught#he knew he would have to protect you.â#âvernon may not be much of a knight but if they were caught he knew he would have to protect youâ#đđđđđđđđđđđ WHY IS HE SO CUTEâŚâŚ.#MINGYU RUNNING AT THE CAR LIKE A VILLAINNN GOD I WOULD BE SCARED FOR MY LIFE#(jk mingyu i would be running back to u)
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he ! is ! so ! broad !
#iâm going to suck the soul out of him#god mick please just once#let me give you the best star seeing head of your entire life <3#mick schumacher#BROAD SHOULDERS BROAD NECK#he has the whole package#broad shoulders drive me absolutely fucking INSANE
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how seventeen react to their s/o backhugging them
requested ^_^ also junhui is in 2 diff bullet points bc i firmly believe he belongs in both categories teehee
masterlist
seungcheol, wonwoo, mingyu, dokyeom
see, here's the thing. he has a pretty broad and warm and sturdy back, and he's just so comfortable and always right there so of course you're gonna bury your face between his shoulder blades and never pay attention to the rest of the world ever again. you always collapse into his back after a particularly tiring day, while he's making dinner for the both of you and you want nothing more than to just bury yourself into his warmth and never leave. he's used to having you clinging to his back like a particularly stubborn limpet, and while he makes a small exclamation of surprise when you come out of nowhere to hug him, eventually he just smiles and lets you cling to him for however long u need
jeonghan, woozi, vernon, (junhui)
when you suddenly come up behind him and clamp an iron grip around his middle, he just pulls your arms more firmly around him, pats your hands and carries on with his day. you're holding him so tightly it's like you're afraid he's gonna disappear, and it's hard to move around bc you're plastered to his back and squeezing him kinda tight, but he does his best. that is, until he almost trips over your feet bc you're standing so close to him. he kinda feels like he's caught up in a trap, and tells you as such, every single time. âyou're holding me hostage now, huh?â âi'm not holding you hostage.â âthen are you gonna let me go?â âno.â but you're cute, so whatever. he'll happily be held hostage by you for however long it takes for you to decide he can finally be released.
joshua, minghao, chan
the moment he feels you burying your face into his back, hands around his middle, he's smiling and tilting his head back in response to your presence, murmuring a soft âhello, youâ as you mumble unintelligible words into his shirt. he's so fond, practically melting in your hold, and he lets you stay plastered to his back for however long it takes you to wake up from your latest drowsy state that had you craving back hugs from him. because you backhugging him is saved for sleepy moments, for times when you're not quite awake and cling to him like a koala until you've fully woken up. it's adorableâyou're adorableâso after a few minutes he's turning around and wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing ur cheek sweetly and asking if his lovely, lovely darling had a good sleep? <3
hoshi, seungkwan, (junhui)
yelps in surprise every time when you come up behind him and wrap around his back, before he realises that it's you and immediately relaxes. it's kinda comforting, feeling you and your warmth against him, but he gets kinda wriggly after a few minutes, wanting to see your face, so back hugs always end up turning into proper bear hugs where he wraps his arms around you and can look you in the eye properly before covering your entire face in kisses. he likes eye contact, likes seeing the love of his life right before him, and while backhugging is cute as hell do you know whatâs even cuter? the little nose scrunch thingy he does when he gives you fluttery soft butterfly kisses over your eyelids.
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reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @hanniehaee @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun
#fairyhaos.works#seventeen#svt#seventeen fic#seventeen drabble#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#scoups#seungcheol#jeonghan#joshua#hong jisoo#junhui#hoshi#wonwoo#woozi#jihoon#minghao#the8#mingyu#dk#dokyeom#seungkwan#vernon#hansol#chan
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hi, i've only discovered your writing recently but i can't even explain how much i love it đ it's like that one anon who i think said that it feels very real, like you're getting 4k ultra hd 8d view of the scene lol đŠˇ
i really like your bimbo reader posts but i also sort of enjoy seeing them from this point of view that's like.... "this is not his gfs """"constant"""" style but he just lets her be in this kind of persona sometimes because it's relaxing to let him do all the work and thinking for her from time to time".
i hope this makes sense đ thank you for writing something that's this cute and wholesome i just love it
Thank you so much sweetheart, this is really lovely!! đđđ<3
Yeah!! I totally get where you're coming from!! She's not exactly dumb, it's actually quite the opposite. I'd like to hc her as a girl who managed to get into a very good university and is studying astrophysics simply because she liked watching stars as a child. She's not dumbâ just a girl who grew up extremely sheltered and hasn't seen the world through the eyes of someone who has had a difficult life, like Simon.
There's certain naivety that while it can be dangerous, she's been learning more and more about with Simon's help about stranger danger and trusting her instinct, but the girl is always surrounded by people who enjoy seeing her thrive and always teach her the things that her parents didn't.
I'd say in general she has a very good life, and now paired with Simon, someone whose entire soul wants to see her thrive?? She gets to turn off her brain and simply let him take controlâ he sometimes picks her clothes for her, dressing her up to the best of his capacity even when he's not a fashion guy.
This man has studied all her Instagram pictures because she's mesmerizing and he loves her that much, yet it also gives him the chance to more or less know what combinations she likes to wear. He still remembers the time she looked at him like he grew a second head for trying to make her wear dots and linesâ but he never made that same mistake again.
They work surprisingly well together despite basically being on complete opposite sides of a spectrum, and at the end of the day, they work this well because they're both equally in love with the other.
Simon is level-headed and that gives her the chance to simply be herself without worrying about anything, he gives her a sense of security that she's never gotten with anyone else, while bimbo!reader gives Simon the love and affection he never even dared to think about. The main thing is that she looks and treats him like he's worth something how good of a soldier he is. Hell, she doesn't even know he's a soldier, she simply found the most brooding and intimidating guy and fell in love with him before she even knew it.
They both spoil each other a lot. Simon buys her things, treats her with patience and love, and generally treats her like the princess that she is, while she takes care of Simon like no other. She does face masks with him, gives him massages, does his manicure (trimming and cleaning his nails, putting lotion on his calloused hands), and is overall as patient as they come.
They're a pretty wholesome pair and quite honestly I enjoy writing about them a lot, the love they have for each other is fully pure and it makes me happy. :')
Sorry for going off here HJBEFJBHKFEHBKJEFHBJK I wrote too much but God, I love this pair SO fucking much
Bimbo!Reader Masterlist
#stray answers#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley#call of duty#cod mwii#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley#cod mw2#ghost x bimbo!reader#simon riley x bimbo!reader#bimbo!reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon x reader#ghost simon riley#ghost mw3#mw3#cod mw3#modern warfare iii#call of duty mw3#modern warfare 3
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heyyyy!! my brain gave me a half-assed thought in the nighttime starring best friend/perv!Lee Minho and bimbo!Reader. Minho's ALWAYS flirting with and staring at you, but you just (somehow) never notice. he likes seeing you wear those little outfits that barely cover you up and always mentions that you should only wear that stuff for him. one day he was just at his limit after another failed attempt at flirting. so, he just pushes you against the wall. you can feel how hard he is behind you, but you didn't see this coming so you're freaking out. and he just tells you "i'm gonna have what i want. so you might as well take what i give you."
-đ (p.s. i hope this was coherent) ((p.p.s. make sure you take time for yourself to rest and just breathe bc that beautiful mind of yours is so so important!! <3))
đđ˘đđ˛ đđđŤđđ˛
Lee Minho x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language, Angst, Insecurities, Jealousy, Possessive!Minho, Smut +18 (Minors DNI) dub/con, Bratty!reader, Brat Tamer!Minho, Perv!Minho, Dom/Sub Themes, Mean Dom!Minho, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Grinding, Mutual Masturbation, CNC, Overstimulation
Fueling the Dom!Minho agenda
You did not particularly deal well with being unliked. Everybody has to like you all the time and there is no concrete way to tell your best friend this. Especially while he's driving down the highway, with rain pellets beating down the windshield.
You did not look at Minho when you initially slipped into the car. So completely and utterly suffocated by embarrassment.
The call prior to being picked up had been less than savoury.
"Isn't it too early to be calling me to come save you from your date?" His voice was completely drenched in his ususual smug sarcasm, "Or was he just that fucking boring?"
"I've been stood up and I'm not exactly sure where I am."
Almost immediately, Minho forced you to send your location until he was speeding over to where you sat, in your little dress all alone under the awning of a Michelin star restaurant.
You had thought the worst of the evening was behind youâŚ
The car is completely drenched in silence with neither you, nor Minho knowing exactly how the broach such a sensitive topic. You're embarrassed. He knows this. The only thing evading his understanding is why⌠Why are you embarrassed when you shouldn't be?
"At least give me a name or an address or something," Minho's voice is dangerously low and you peer up at him with wide eyes from the passenger seat. Seeing him so put together is wholly off putting. Dressed in nothing but his sweats and a polo shirt- all black, all Tom Ford- Minho's gaze is fucking deadly as he glares at the road ahead. His frustration manifests in the form of whitened knuckles gripping a steering wheel for dear life.
"Minho, I'm not giving you his address just so you can go and harass him." The fact that you even had to reiterate this is beyond your comprehension.
"I honest-to-God, just wanna have a word with the guy..." Minho says, swinging his head towards you, completely paralysing you with the depths of his endless dark eyes. Instead of waging a war with Minho (one you knew you couldn't possibly win,) you choose to accept defeat. It consumes your entire countenance as you sink down into the passenger seat, avoiding eye contact.
"Why can't anyone love me?" The rain droplets rattling Minho's vehicle only amplifies the question and for the umpteenth time tonight, Minho is overcome with mass frustration. Again, you should not be the one feeling unwanted. You should not be letting scum of the very earth dictate the trajectory of your self worth. To make matters impossibly worse, another car swerves into his lane, completely cutting him off from a seamless drive.
"Jesus, Fuck!" While Minho curses out the driver, you keep your head against the window.
"I think I'm cursed to stay single and bitchless for the rest of my life."
You didn't get it.
You were a fairly good girl, never once stepping out of bounds. Not at work: where you worked so diligently for a boss who didn't always deserve it.
Not in your adolescence: Where you never rebelled, not even once. You lovingly spared your parents all the heartache even after you matured enough to go to college.
Perhaps the reason all your dates ended with a certified ghosting was because you simply weren't cut out for relationships. That is the most harrowing thought of them all...
Minho's voice pipes up from beside you, effectively saving you from slipping into self pity, "I think you're overlooking one major factor when it comes to staying single and bitchless for the rest of your life," You're already rolling your eyes, "And what's that?"
You can practically hear the pompous smirk as Minho says, "I'm right here. I'm always right here."
Instead of responding, your tone remains wistful and airy.
"The guy took one look at me and gassed the fuck out of the restaurant." Your blood pressure is being shot to hell at just the very thought of the man (who had contacted you first, thank you very much).
"It's like he decided reality didn't match what he saw on tinder and took it all back..." you conclude your rant with a heavy and listless exhale.
Minho, who continued to glare at the wet tar road ahead, allows his mind to conjure up every possible way your 'date' might've died on his way home. Instead of voicing these homicidal thoughts, Minho instead, cleverly and cooly asks, "What kind of weirdos are you going on dates with?"
Your reply comes sickeningly quick. "The kind of weirdos that give me the time of day," and to make matters impossibly worse, you attach a pitiful and dry chuckle to the end of your sentence. "Not everyone is like you, Minho. Not everyone has the luxury of being the object of everyone's desires." His stomach sinks deeper and deeper with the sadness that coats your voice. Anything that might save him from this suffocating feeling at the bottom of his stomach brought on by the sadness in your tone.
"I just don't get it?" Your sad eyes watch as Minho pulls into the parking lot of his apartment complex.
"I didn't smell bad âcus I made sure to wear Chanel number five-" Minho can do nothing except clench his jaw. His grip on the steering wheel is deadly as he eases his car into the vacant spot⌠âand this dress Lix bought me for graduation- I mean he assured me I don't look fucking bloated in it so I assume I looked fine." He tries to make it through your pity party, really, he does. Whenever you found yourself in this state, slipping deeper and deeper into your insecurities, Minho found it terribly difficult to pull you out.
Difficult but not impossible
"I'm telling you," he chooses to say instead, righting his shoulders and cutting off the engine as he forces that confident smirk back onto his face, "If you wanna get laid so badly I'm always a phone call away...."
Instead of entertaining Minho's words, your mind wanders, âMaybe I'm just not hardwired for a relationship. Maybe all I'll have until I reach my deathbed is my rose toy and 5000 cats-â
âFalse. You have my fingers any time. Or my mouth-â
And for some reason, that statement alone⌠that one little flirt becomes the undoing of your sanity. âMINHO BE SERIOUS FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS JESUS CHRIST!â You do not know, nor do you care if your voice is loud enough to bleed outside, enough to disrupt any passerbys. You've fucking had it.
With men who disappoint you.
With men who say they'll show up but choose not to.
âI'm telling you I fucking failed this evening! I failed and you're not listening-
In what appears to be a snarky remark to the side, Minho mumbles, âI'm not the one that's not listening-â
âI don't need your teasing right now, Jesus! The fact that I have to spell that out-â you release a sigh âFucking never mind,â you feel utterly defeated, and before you brain catches up to the movement of your hands, you're already typing frantically for a ride assistance app.
Minho scoffs incredulously. That sunshine smile bleeds quickly into a dangerous glare and he watches as you type frantically across your screen. âSay what you gotta say.â
âI didn't ask you to come pick me up, just so you could interrogate me-â before your sentence could become another uphill screaming match you shake your head in a way that has Minho's knuckles whitening across the inactive steering wheel. His patience was dwindling dismally and he had the vaguest suspicion that you know this.
In fact, you might have always known this: Which buttons to push to get which reaction.
He's noticed it for a while since the peroration of your âfriendshipâ. Something that blossomed into a friendship when he so very clearly tried to make it everything but.
âI'm gonna take an Uber home,â you say in a tone he can only describe as bratty.
âI swear to fucking God.â he says, manic eyes crinkling at the sides in a smile of disablief, his tongue jutting against the inside of his cheek.
Minho's not sure what he wants to do but he's damn sure you're not going to like it. âIf you set foot out of this car-â He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. Quietly muttering Korean expletives while you sit meekly, taking your scolding. âIf you set foot out this car-â
âYou're not my father, Minho,â he flinches. âI'm getting my uber-â
âTry it, see what happens.â
âMinho, goodnight.â
The last thing you expect to feel as your hand touches the car handle, is Minhoâs larger hand covering your wrist in a calloused grip. His hand is firm, almost concrete and before you're able to process this, he's already dragging your face towards him.
âW-What the f-fuck, Minho, let me go!â the words come out mangled and squashed because Minho has his hands squishing your cheeks in an equally iron grip. Enough to have your teeth pushing against the inside of your cheeks. Enough to have tears stinging your eyes.
âWhy the fuck do you never listen?â He whispers, almost to himself. As if he's completely forgotten about the girl, leaning over the centre console because he's squishing her cheeks for dear life. You anticipate the bruises. You can almost feel them coming on.
âIt's like you purposely want to piss me off-â
Despite the aircon pouring warm hair to combat the Korean chill you feel very much icy all over. It's as if the chill has seeped into your very bones and it's not long until you're completely wracked in a series of violent shivers. You have never experienced anything like this.
Minho watches in apparent awe at the way your pupils, dark as they, dilate into even darker slits. His hand shifts silently from your cheeks, to your jaw, and lower until his hand is wrapping around your neck.
âAre you wearing panties right now?â
The question hurtles through your foggy brain like a runaway train until you're forced to bore your eyes into his, âWhat?â
âWhich pair are you wearing right now?â He asks, despite the hand already drifting from your neck, all the way down your body. He swipes his hand against your slightly damp skin, prying your thighs apart with his hand as if it were nothing. âI wanna see which you were planning to have on for him,â he knew he wouldn't like, whatever the outcome may be, but he's only just begun this game and he's not ready to stop.
âMinho.â Your hand shoots out to cradle his bicep, which proves to be a deeply harrowing mistake for someone as inexperienced as you are because his arms are so firm, so taut. You instinctively find your thighs opening just a fraction wider, even as you say, âI don't think we should do this.â You begin oh so slowly. Hoping to convey with your eyes, that which you refused to say with your lips. âI want you to stop.â Minho is absolutely breathless at the sight of the stars sparkling in your dazed eyes.
He knows exactly what you want and he's damn well going to give it to you. An escape.
âI've never known a bigger slut than you, you know that?â So casual. So forward. His words nearly have you whimpering into the quiet air.
âI can see how badly you want this,â Never ever letting his gaze stray from your helpless expression, Minho pushes his hand further into the apex of your thighs and you wait. You wait with bated breath for the euphoria to trickle in by the cold tips of his fingers touching the lace of your underwear. âYou want it so bad, don't you?â
âI-I- don't,â you force the words out with your hands unknowingly wrapping themselves around Minho's forearm. âThis whole time, you knew,â he laughs dryly as he lets the pad of his fingers finally reach your clothed cunt. Your legs are trembling. âYou fucking knew I wanted you and yet you still went on your little date anyways,â
That has you momentarily slipping out of your subspace, but before he lets that happen, he's rubbing slow circles against your cunt, with his right hand, a hand closest to the console, easier to reach the most intimate parts of you.
âdidn't know, Minho,â the whimpers leaving your mouth are soft, so intimate, like the colour pink personified and it has Minho squeezing his eyes shut for all of a few tense seconds.
When his eyes flutter open again, the old Minho is nowhere to be found. Gone is the overly flirty best friend. Gone is the unnecessary jokester. Gone is the dry humour. The only thing in its place is a stone whisper of a smirk as he says, âRide my hand.â
âW-What-â
âYou don't talk,â he says, before sliding your panties to the side, âUseless little girls don't get to talk.â He says, racking a moan from straight out your throat as his hand presses against your drenched heat. âUseless little girls don't even get to speak.â
âMinho-â
âAll you think about is getting to cum, right?â There's so much of a condescending nature in its tone, it almost has you instinctively tightening your grip on the forearm between your legs and pushing your heat against his fingers. The sight of you so worked up by his bad words have Minho cursing under his breath.
You're watching him as if he invented the stars, as if to say âWhat elseâ, and it drives him to complete madness.
âF-Fuck,â
âShe knows how to say bad words,â he cackles as you squish your soaked cunt against his calloused palm. His knuckles are pressed firmly into the seat and his wrist is giving out but his horny brain fog is far too powerful.
âThat's it, Petal,â he says, watching almost as if slipping into his own trance, âfuck my hand, I wanna see how bad you want it-â
âP-Please-â You whisper, âI need your cock-â
âYou donât get to make demands when you're being punished,â he mumbles, before leaning his head back against his seat, watching you desperately try to bring yourself to orgasm by rutting your hips against his hand. âUnless, you don't need my help and you'd rather just make yourself cum-â
âNO!â you keep a firm grip on his forearm, bottom lip quivering as you stare at him with wide eyes. âI'm s-so close, please.â
Minho can't help it. The very act of you asking him for something as sacred as an orgasm⌠It has him trying to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpants.
âYou're close, yeah?â He asks, now entering his own pleasure. He slips his left hand into his boxers while he watches you ride his hand.
âYouâre close from humping that wet pussy against my hand?â
âOh god, yes,â
âYouâre such a good fucking girl you know that?â His breathing is heavy now because he's jerking himself off to the same pace as your cunt rubbing itself against his hand.
âYou're such a good whore,â he whispers.
âCall me that again- p-please Iâm gonna cum!â
âI've always wanted to treat you like the whore I know you are,â he whispers, watching as your eyes slip to the back of your skull, âI hated watching you go on those dates.â
âM-Minho-â
âKill them,â he whispers silently, âIâve fucking wanted to kill every single one of them.â he squeezes his cock, feeling his own ripples of pleasure shoot down your spine.
âY-Yours,â you whisper, âI'm yours-â
âF-Fuck baby-â Sensing Minho slipping into his own prgasm, you grind your cunt harder against his hand. It doesn't take much for you to make a complete mess all over his seats. You're both wracked with a wave of shivers and Minho tries to keep his eyes open as he milks his cock for all it's got. He wants to watch your hips stutter. He wants to see how you look when you cum and he wants to commit it to memory.
He decides it's the most addictive thing he's ever seen.
âNo fucking way you made me cum all over myself like some fuckcing teenager,â he grumbles, staring down at the mess he's made all over his shirt.
You're still a panting shivering mess and you yelp when Minho squeezes your sensitive, overstimulated clit.
âHey,â he says, gaining your attention immediately, âNo more dates yeah?â
You do nothing but nod.
<3
Š to @mphountitled on tumblr; do not repost
#lee minho#lee know#lee know x reader#lee know x you#lee know x y/n#lee know smut#lee minho x reader#lee minho smut#minho smut#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#stray kids
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if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | ONE
á°.á after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men â especially athletes. your publicist doesn't get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn't just a pro soccer player, but also your ex's rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )
pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 2.9k chapter synopsis there are certain perks to having a relationship that operates on a "private not secret" basis. for example, you're allowed at least two weeks before the batshit crazy people online figure out that little miss it girl just got her ass dumped. chapter contains partying to cope, social drinking, diet culture, this fic is so chronically online LOL author's notes so normally, i would organize the fic's different arcs or acts by explicitly saying "act 1" or whatever. like i said, we're gonna be chronically online, so the arcs are described as different "eras" and when it's a new arc, we'll get a new era đ¤ each era has special graphics for it: what the media sees vs what's actually going on. think of the era intro as a moodboard for the chapters that'll follow <3
âËŕż CURRENT ERA: PARTY GIRL đđËâ from the outside, it's giving irl serena van der woodsen but even better, no one can possibly have the same 24 hours as you, someone needs to convince you to drop the skincare routine STAT, matter of fact - we just need your whole game card
â guest starred on the hottest pop culture podcast where it was basically just a glaze session for you (besides the last 10 minutes where the host started asking about rin), articles that want to help readers live your (unattainable if you're not rich!) lifestyle, and a devoted fanpage that updates your every move... every move.
on the inside, it's actually giving listening and actually relating to sad music, asking an 8 ball if you're the problem, being desperate enough to believe those tiktoks that say if you claim this sound and interact 3x he'll text you back, wondering when you should mail him back his stuff, keeping busy in the public eye so no one suspects how miserable you are right now
â even spotify clocked you and it's auto-generated, customized playlist perfectly depicts what you're going through (talk about the saddest soundtrack to your life), got desperate and consulted quora (this is how you know you're at rockbottom). not shown: your credit card statement (retail therapy works, right? right?!)
âPromise youâll be on your best behavior?â Yukimiya peers over his sunglasses so he can give you a very pointed look. You tilt your head innocently.
âWhen am I ever not?âÂ
Yukimiya lets out a very loud, very drawn out, very exasperated sigh. When have you not been on your best behavior? Well, just last month, you got drunk, stumbled out to your garage, hopped in your custom-wrapped pink Porsche, and somehow ended up falling asleep on top of the hood. (In your defense, at least even in a drunken stupor, you werenât stupid enough to drive.) Last week, you collected the numbers of about eight different athletes and models, sufficiently led every single one of them on, and are now actively ghosting all of them because they committed the cardinal sin of not sounding like, feeling like, or being anything like Rin. And speaking of the devil, Rinâs the reason why just last night, you ended up blocking not just him from your social media, but his whole entire team, too. You felt vindicated when you did this at 2 AM. Yeah, because thatâll sure show him! He hasnât looked at your story once since the breakup (not that youâve been keeping track or anything), but in case he tries to play it cool and gets one of his teammates to view it on his behalf, youâll have put a stop to that plan.Â
(Even when youâre spiraling, youâre still painfully aware of the fact that Rinâs most likely doing okay, if not still performing at his best. He is most certainly not doing something as childish as getting his teammates to relay info on you to him. Meanwhile, you are apparently a social liability for your closest friends. Spectacular.)Â
âDonât answer that.â You tell him. âI donât want to know what my life looks like through your eyes.â Itâs bad enough that every little thing you do gets documented, photographed, and then sensationalized on the Internet, but itâs one thing for strangers to commentate on your behavior when they donât even have the full story. Itâs another thing entirely when itâs your best friend criticizing your current lifestyle.Â
âIâm just saying, itâs going to be a very casual lunch with my favorite people. Not a party.â Yukimiya clarifies.Â
âKenyu, you do realize that inviting me to a birthday party, and then saying âitâs not a partyâ is kind of giving mixed signals right now.â Now itâs your turn to give him a pointed look, but just like his, thereâs no true venom behind it. Itâs Kenyuâs birthday celebration, anyway. Youâre not about to corrupt Mr. Catholic Private School and tell him to throw a fucking rager.Â
âIf my team gets their way, there probably will be an actual party. If there is, youâll be the first one I give the details to.â Thereâs a distant shout in the back; the photographer is done with his lunch, and heâs ready to wrap this shoot up. Kenyu examines his hair in the vanity mirror before getting out of his chair and giving you a quick hug. Your photos have already been taken, and thereâs really no point for you to be on set still.Â
However, Kenyuâs on set. Your only other viable option is to just go home and hide under your covers, rewatching Someone Great on Netflix and Doordashing Ben & Jerryâs. Juliette is home in France and wonât be coming back until the end of the month, and youâre not really in the mood to see any of your other friends. Itâs tiring being around people who canât separate front-cover-of-Vogue you from the real you. If youâre going to have to fake a smile, it might as well be on set rather than grabbing brunch with people who would kill to be able to leak something as headline-inducing as your breakup.Â
âPinky promise?â You look up at Yukimiya. âYou promise to tell me about the party even if Iâll make a fool of myself because apparently I donât act on my best behavior?âÂ
He rolls his eyes at your comment. âI didnât mean it in a bad way, and you know that. Besides, you could never make a fool of yourself. Anything you do is declared iconic, anyway.â
Having a famous movie director as a father and a certified Hollywood starlet as a mother, life wasnât just set at easy mode for you. You practically were given an unlimited money hack and started off with like, five times the XP compared to any other beginner. At thirteen, you told your parents that for your birthday, you wanted to become a model. Two phone calls and a private jet flight later, and you had signed with the best modeling agency in the country and had your first ever photoshoot booked.Â
Fate gave you parents with connections, and youâd be a fool to not use it to your advantage. Fate also gave you the same photoshoot as another young model, and youâd be a fool to not befriend Kenyu Yukimiya immediately. Out of all the friends youâve ever made, fate only gives you good luck twice: first with Yuki, then with Juliette. You used to think you got lucky three times â meeting Rin for the first time was like experiencing something cosmic. Now you know better. Even rich people can have shit luck, too.Â
Todayâs unlucky situation is the way Yukimiyaâs âfavorite peopleâ all happen to be athletes. Thereâs not a single person here who isnât his teammate or somehow related to Bastard Munchen, except for you. If you didnât love Yukimiya so much, you would have hauled ass. Itâs normally easy enough for you to avoid soccer players at parties because they donât normally get invited to the same social events you do, but now youâre the odd one out.Â
At least the food is good. You donât have a photoshoot scheduled until next week, and thatâs exactly why youâre comfortable with choking down half a bagel sandwich rather than socialize with the guys seated by you. Yukimiyaâs real big on intimacy and the power of friendship or whatever, which is probably easier to achieve when you play a team sport versus the modeling industry, where good jobs are few and far between, and the reason why some models are so skinny is because they canât afford to eat â literally and figuratively. If theyâre not booking jobs, thereâs no way they can buy groceries in this economy.Â
He has everyone assembled at one long table in the massive backyard of his mansion. Itâs honestly kind of Last Supper-core, but it fits him. Little Yukiâs finally old enough to have a seat at the big kidâs table. Heâs sitting across from you, and youâre sandwiched between Kunigami and Hiori. Next to Yukimiya is Isagi. Out of everyone at this party, soccer player or not, Isagi is the person you want to avoid the most. So far, you think youâve managed to skirt under his radar. If everything goes as planned, youâll be able to leave this lunch with your belly full and not having to interact with anybody. Itâs looking like you wonât even have to drink in order to get through this.Â
âHey, out of all of us at this table, who dâya think would have the best shot at being a model?â Hiori is clearly speaking to you. The blue-haired player is looking directly at you, for Godâs sake. You wonder if itâll be mean to blatantly ignore him, but considering how this little question seems to have captured the attention of the surrounding players, it looks like pretending youâre hard of hearing is out of the question.Â
Inside, youâre dying. The last thing you wanted to do was socialize, but itâd be selfish and bratty to request that Yukimiya find more time in his busy schedule to have a one-on-one celebration with you. Youâre here to support your friend. You can stomach being friendly with boys who have probably seen Rin more recently than youâve last seen him. Fuck â why are you thinking about Rin? Do not think about Rin!
You grab one of the premade mimosas from the tray in the center of the table. You down the glass in one swift gulp. On the outside, you flash Hiori a bright smile and give an airy giggle. âWhy? You trying to get a foot into the industry?âÂ
Hioriâs cheeks turn a light shade of pink. âW-well, no. Just wanted to make conversation.âÂ
âNo worries! Iâve been trying to keep up with whatever you guys are talking about, but even after all this time being friends with Kenyu, I still donât really get soccer.â Your smile is still intact. You reach for another mimosa.Â
âRin didnât teach you anything?âÂ
Ever since you entered the industry, you knew that you had to get comfortable with standing out. No â you needed to thrive on standing out. You needed to crave, to rely on, peopleâs undying attention in order to survive. In the eyes of the media, youâre the center of attention. You got what every girl your age wants. At this table, everyoneâs eyes are focused on you. What you want is to be back in your room, away from their prying gazes and curious stares.
But youâre a trained professional. Your smile never slides off, never turns into a grimace. You give a casual shrug, directing your answer to the person who mentioned Rin in the first place.Â
âI make it a rule to not discuss work when weâre together.â You look at Isagi, asking him with your eyes if thatâs a good enough explanation for him. He holds your gaze, looking at you like he sees right through you.
You drink another mimosa.Â
After loosening up because of the drinks, you find casual conversation with the Munchen players to be easy. The boys honestly never shut up, and you donât know what theyâre talking about half the time, but youâre cracking genuine smiles every so often, and by the time Yukimiya is going around and saying his thanks for everyone showing up, you areâŚ
Not drunk, per se. Youâve built up quite the tolerance these past few weeks, and itâs hard to get wasted off of drinks that are basically three-fourths orange juice. (Seriously, was Yukimiya getting stingy with the champagne? Sober You might be able to acknowledge the fact that Yukimiya might have just been preparing for the Worst Case Scenario, which would be you hogging all the drinks to yourself. Which sort of happened. Fuck. Sometimes it sucks to be known so well.) Youâre definitely tipsy, though. Maybe half a tier above tipsy? Whatever the case, you are definitely in no shape to drive.Â
âKenny,â you whine out his nickname, trying your best to pull out your puppy-dog eyes. âPlease take me home.âÂ
âAh, damnnit, [Name].â He runs his fingers through his dark curls. âDid you seriously get drunk off of orange juice?âÂ
âChampagne drunk is the best drunk. Iâm pretty sure People Magazine quoted me on that like, last year, so itâs basically fact.â Yukimiya doesnât seem overly impressed. âAnd Iâm not drunk, but my alcohol levels right now are definitely above the legal limit. Sorry, but I donât plan on making headlines for a DUI. Hard to spin that into something iconic.âÂ
This gets Yukimiya to crack a smile. âI thought you were leaning into the party girl look?âÂ
âYeah, but after Justin Timberlake got caught for intoxicated driving, he made it look totally lame. He ruined it for us!âÂ
âI wish I could drive you back, but I have to retake some photos for this sneaker ad Iâm doing, and with traffic, Iâm really cutting it close already. Do you want to just come with, or hang out at my place until I get back? You shouldâve said something sooner; I couldâve asked one of the guys to drop you off.â
You crinkle your nose. âNo, thanks. Iâm not a fan of strangers knowing where I live.â Becoming a model at such a young age thrust you into the spotlight. With media attention comes total pervs who lurk in Reddit threads and 4Chan, and stumbling upon some of the things said about you, reading the things they would do to you if they found you, all laid out in disgusting, graphic detail, left you kind of paranoid. Getting doxxed might be one of your worst fears. No Ubers. No car ride homes with strangers. âIâll wait here. Itâs been a while since I went through your things, so Iâm sure thereâll be enough of your dirty secrets to uncover to keep me occupied.âÂ
âDid you need a ride?âÂ
Shitty luck, indeed.Â
The teammate who decided to stay behind to help clean up (because heâs just that outstanding of a guy) is the sole reason for why you went buckwild on the mimosas. You can see why Rin was always frustrated with him.
âNopeââ You say, at the same exact time as Yukimiya nods enthusiastically.Â
âWould you mind? [Name] actually lives pretty close by, so it might not be out of the way.âÂ
You shoot Yukimiya a scathing glare. He ignores it completely, smiling at Isagi.Â
âI donât mind. That is, if you donât mind.â Isagi is looking at you expectantly. Yukimiya trusts him. And you trust Yukimiya. By some sort of logic, you should reasonably be able to trust Isagi. Itâs clear that Kenyu wants you to carpool with him, anyway, otherwise he wouldnât have been so happy to dump you onto him.Â
âSure. Iâm ready to go whenever you are.âÂ
What would happen if you jumped out of a moving vehicle?Â
At best, youâd get your pretty skin all scraped up, meaning your photoshoots would either have to be delayed, or you would have to endure all the clear distaste for your âunprofessionalismâ in the workplace from the people who actually had to work to get to where theyâre at. At worst, you end up hospitalized. Somehow, it seems easier to photoshop out a few cuts and scrapes than working with someone in a full-body cast.
As you weigh the pros and cons of jumping out of Yoichi Isagiâs vehicle â a sleek, black sedan thatâs top of the line, sure, but understated luxury; itâs not flashy like the sports cars you see most athletes sporting â he smoothly reverses out of Yukimiyaâs driveway. Isagi does that boyish thing where he ignores his backup camera completely and opts to rest one hand on the back of the passenger headrest, the other hand on the steering wheel. Fuck. Maybe itâs not a boyish thing. Maybe itâs manly. Isagi leans a bit into your space; not enough to bother you, but enough to where you can smell the scent of his cologne. He smells clean and fresh. Maybe itâs not cologne, but laundry detergent and fabric softener. Somehow, you find this very fitting of him.Â
He glances out the window to check for traffic and eases you two onto the open road.Â
Heâs not playing any music, and youâre sure as hell not about to ask for the aux. You look out the window instead, watching the world pass you by through tinted glass. It makes everything around you appear darker. Somehow, you find this to be very fitting for you.
âYou live around this area, yeah?â Isagi asks you, and youâre reminded that if you want to go home, you actually have to let the driver know where home is.Â
âYeah, sorry. Keep heading straight, and Iâll let you know when thereâs a turn coming up.â Talking to Isagi shouldnât feel so awkward. After all, you managed to talk (and actually enjoy talking) to all of Yukimiyaâs teammates. You even got along well with Kaiser. But it just feels weird â youâve never met him directly, but youâve heard so much about him, that itâs hard to not see Rinâs rants every time you look at Isagi.Â
So you donât â look at Isagi, that is. You look at everything else. His car is clean. There are air fresheners in the AC vents. The floor of the passenger seat is oddly clean, like no one ever sits here. If thatâs the case, you hope your heels didnât track in any grass blades or dirt.Â
âUm,â Isagi awkwardly clears his throat at a red light. âWhen I mentioned Rin earlier at the partyâŚâÂ
âWhat about it?â Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Since the car is stationary, youâre in the clear, right? If you just unlock the door, you can escape on foot. Your house is now close enough that itâll just count as todayâs exercise.Â
âSorry for bringing him up. I didnât knowââ
ââdidnât know what?â You turn to face him. His jaw is surprisingly sharp, and you watch the way he swallows before he answers you.Â
âI didnât know that you two broke up.âÂ
No one knows that you two broke up. Youâre still in the process of making sense of it all, and because youâre so messed up over it, naturally you had to confide in Yukimiya and Juliette. Neither of them would ever share that secret, though.Â
So why the hell does Yoichi Isagi know?
âThe lightâs green.â You tell him, shifting your body in the seat, avoiding him by positioning yourself even closer to the door.Â
Neither of you say anything else during the drive.
#yoichi isagi x reader#isagi x reader#rin itoshi x reader#smau#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#series: if you feel like falling#fluff
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ⳠIndex [Snippet #51 - Sad Boy]
"When Jungkook comes home sad from work and you cheer him up."
Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life
Warnings: mention of losing one's partner to death, Koo is a sad boi after work, but she cheers him up, he is a little shit and she is just as much of a little shit, hehe they're annoying <3, and sooooooo in loveeee!!!, casual non-sexual nudity, backhugs with non-sexual fondling of the teeds, he is just the cutest <3
Wordcount: 1.8k
a/n: i was struck by the random thought that ogc!koo would most definitely cry to his wifey if one of his customers had a tattoo wish with a sad backstory, so this snippet was born hihi he is actually the patootiestest <3 i luv him <3
You didnât have work today and therefore made dinner. Jungkook should be home any second now and you are really excited for it. You made some of his favourite tonight because you wanted to make him happy. Not that there is a day where you donât want to see him happy, but you felt like surprising him tonight.
Bam has been in the kitchen with you when his ears suddenly perk up. He lifts his head and sniffles, then suddenly stands up from where he was resting to run away. You know exactly what this means. Jungkook is home.Â
Feeling like greeting him by the door tonight, you follow Bam.Â
You find him and Jungkook in the hallway. The latter is kneeling, hugging Bam as tightly as possible.Â
âHey there, my sweetheartâ, you greet him.Â
Jungkook lifts his head, giving view to his teary eyes.Â
âDid you cry? What happened?â you gasp, instantly jumping into worried mode. âKookie baby, what happened?â
Jungkook stands up and closes the distance, âI had a really sad dayâ, he says, hugging you tightly. He lets out small sound, melting into you.
âNo, Iâm sorry to hear this. Did something happen that made you sad?â you ask him, holding him and rubbing the back of his head.
âYesâ, he squeaks out, having to sob.Â
âNoo Googie, Iâm here. Let it all out.â
â___ you, you canât ever die. You have to promise me to, to never die.âÂ
âI mean thatâs a rather ambitious wish. Why are you asking me that all of a sudden?âÂ
Jungkook coughs out a sob, making a sad sound.
âLetâs sit down first, okay?âÂ
âYes, okayâ, he whimpers.
You guide him to the living room, sitting down next to him and holding his hands. The walk from the front door to the sofa gave him enough strength to finally tell you what made him so incredibly sad today. He does so with his head lowered and his sweaty hands clasping yours as if he needed your touch to survive.
âI had a customer today and, and he wanted a tattoo and it wasâ, his voice quivers in tears, âit was his wifeâs star sign and then I started and he cried and told me that his wife died a week ago and that he wants to keep her with him always. It was so sadâ, he whimpers, âhe cried through the entire session and I cried with him and it made me so sad and made me think of how it would be lose you and, and you canât die, ___ please you have to let me go first, I canât go through losing you.â
âOh Kookie, you sweetest person youâ, you breathe, scooting closer to drape your arm over him, âthis must have been such an emotional moment. Iâm sorry that you had to go through this.âÂ
âIt was so sad. I had to, to take breaks because I kept crying so muchâ, he drops his head on your shoulder, âmy head hurts so bad and I have ringing in my ears. Iâm sad, please can you promise me not to die before me?âÂ
âSo I should deal with you losing you?â, you ask in a chuckle.Â
âYes.â
You laugh. He laughs with you, but sniffles vividly.
âYouâre a doofus.â
âA really sad doofus.âÂ
You snicker, kissing his forehead.
âMhm, I promise you that I wonât leave you for a long time. I donât wanna think about this day for too long because itâll make me sad too, but I promise you itâs still going to be a long time till it happens.â
âI promise you too. And I love you so much. Youâre my soulmate and my best friend and my life partner. Everything I do, I do for you.â He lifts his head, cradling your cheeks. His eyes, although teary, are filled with love. âLife for me began when I met you. I knew from the very first moment I saw you in Seokjinâs diner that I loved you. And ever since that moment, everything I did was for you. I love you, ___, I always have.âÂ
âOh god Googie, I love you too.â You cup his cheeks. âMy soulmate, my best friend and my parter for life.â
Jungkook smiles, leaning into your touch.
âAlso my cute, sappy doofus.â
He giggles, agreeing with a nod.
âIf I didnât tell you how I felt tonight, I would have imploded. Witnessing my customer grieve so deeply really hurt me. I felt his pain as if it was mine.â
âOf course you did. You have such an empathetic, loving soul. Iâm sure that he felt deeply comforted to be understood this way. Iâm sorry that it made you feel so sad though.â
âThank youâ, he mumbles and sniffles, âI feel better already. Talking about it really helped. Thank you for listening. I love you so much.â
âI love you too and Iâm always happy to listen. Weâre a team, we go through everything together.âÂ
He nods his head, eyes softening.Â
âMaybe we could die together. When we're old like in- Oh no Iâm crying again - like in The Notebook. ___, Iâm so sadâ, he wails, throwing his head back dramatically.Â
âGosh you, come hereâ, you chuckle fondly, hugging him again.Â
âThey were so in love and went together. I canât do this today.â
âGosh you, itâs okay. Iâm right here.âÂ
âI canât do this, please just melt into me.â
âIâm trying, I really amâ, you tease, ruffling his hair. âYou know I love you, donât you?â
âI love you too, so much.â
âAnd I made Tangsuyuk tonight with lots of different sides.âÂ
âWow, Tangsuyukâ, Jungkook whispers, forgetting all about crying at the mention of his favourite dish. âMy favourite. Thank you so much.â
âOf course, everything for you my darling.âÂ
He lifts his head, letting you wipe his tears and snot.
âNo, donât. Itâs yucky.â
âIt is. So yuckyâ, you agree and scrunch your nose, âyou snotty baby you.âÂ
A shy smile washes over his face. It morphs into a shocked gasp when seconds later you wipe his snot into his shirt.
âDid you just wipe my snot on my shirt?â
âMhm I didâ, you grin, standing up to run away from him, âwhat are you gonna do about it?â
Jungkook feels his heart flutter. When you are being playful like this, he forgets all about his sadness. He jumps to his feet, chasing you all the way to the kitchen.
âCome here youâ, he calls after you.
You squeak and increase your steps, making him laugh and do the same.
He catches up with you, swooping you off your feet. You squeal and cackle, throwing your head back in joy as he twirls with you.Â
After the twirling he has the audacity to wipe his nose into your shirt, snickering boyishly at the yelp of complaint you let out.Â
He sets you down, laughing giddily when you push him away gently.
âThat was so much. Why did you have to do that? Eww I can literally see the slime stick to the fabric.âÂ
Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back and rubbing your waist.Â
âTch, youâre rancidâ, you say, swiping his hands away. You pull your shirt over your head.
âBaby wowâ, he gasps, eyes instantly landing on your bared chest. âNo bra?âÂ
âWeâve been living together for how many years and you still get surprised that I donât wear that shit at home?â you ask him, leaving the kitchen.Â
Jungkook follows you. You take the stairs down to the cellar where you have your laundry room. It is a very beautiful and homely cellar and feels more like an underground living area than an actual cellar.Â
âYour boobs never lose their power. Obviously Iâll keep being surprised by themâ, Jungkook says.
You scoff in amusement, wiping some disinfectant on the fabric. Jungkook is going to do laundry tomorrow either way, but you just want to get rid of the worst.Â
Suddenly you have two hands on your breasts and two arms around you, a naked chest against your naked back and lips on your shoulder.Â
âWhat are you doing?â you ask him in a chuckle, leaning into his embrace.Â
âJust making sure that youâre realâ, Jungkook whispers, guiding his kisses up to your neck and ear.Â
âAnd you had to take your shirt off for that?âÂ
âIt was dirty tooâ, Jungkook says and takes your earlobe between his teeth to tug on it gently, giving your breasts a playful squeeze at the same time.Â
You shiver and laugh at the same time, placing your hands over hisâ.Â
âFor someone who had a sad day, youâre being very touchy right now.âÂ
âIâm not trying anything justâŚâ he sighs against your neck, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as possible, â...I get happy when you laugh. And if my goofiness makes you laugh, I keep doing it.â
âIt does. You do. You make me laugh a lotâ, you say, having to laugh a second later when he blows raspberries on your neck. âNot like this! I hate this, it ticklesâ, you squeal in giggles, fleeing him as he goes in for a second attack. âJeon Jungkook, keep doing this and Iâll die right now out of spite.âÂ
âNo, you wonât. I wonât let youâ, he says, picks you up and sits you down on the laundry machine. He is between your legs, hands on your waist and lips claiming yours in a kiss.Â
You smile and hum, tangling your fingers in his hair. He smiles as well, tugging on your lower lip before putting distance between your faces.
You cradle his cheeks, rubbing them softly. He leans into your touch, rubbing your waist. His eyes are spilling over with love and as he speaks, he does so in a soft voice.
âI just love being alive with youâ, he says. He caresses your waist, your hips, your stomach and chest before landing on your face. âI love the way your skin feels, warm and soft. I love the way your hair falls, so beautiful and perfect. I love the way your eyes are so full of life and beauty and love how soft your lips are. Youâre perfect and I love you.â
You smile, kissing his thumb as he guides it over your lips.
âI love you too, Kookie.â
âNo but, I love you.â
âI love you too.â
Jungkook lowers his eyes shyly, âIâm sorry, itâs getting too much, right?â
You tilt his head back up, mirroring his adoring gaze, âthis could never get too much, my sweetie.â
He smiles giddily.
âAlthough I do fear that dinner might be getting cold if we keep being so sappy.â
âOh dinner! I totally forgot. Wow baby, Iâm so happy to be homeâ, he says, widening his eyes dramatically and rubbing his own tummy, âIâm so ready to eat, wah baby seriously.â
You snicker, âme too, baby.â You jump off the washing machine and take his hand. âFirst I wanna put on a shirt though. Iâm not down to get sweet and spicy sauce on my titties.â
âWhy not? You have me. I can clean everything you get on your boobs. I promise, Iâm an expert.â
âYouâre a dork, thatâs what you areâ, you say in a chuckle and a fond roll of your eyes.
#jungkook fluff#jungkook romance#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook scenario#jungkook drabble#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fluff#bts romance#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts scenario#bts drabble#bts x you#bts x reader#bangtan fluff#bangtan romance#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fanfiction#bangtan scenario#bangtan drabble#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you#fanfic: ogc
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spiderling ; peter parker.
sequel to particles!
pairing ; peter parker x stark!reader
synopsis ;Â peter was supposed to find you after strange wiped everyone's memory of him away. instead, you found him.
words ; 2.0k
themes ; angst, mild fluff and comedy
warnings / includes ;Â lots of feels crammed into this, peter is a flustered mess, reader is an insanely smart kid of tonyâs, mentions of may and the rest of the spidey gang :(
main masterlist.
Ever since Peter had asked Strange to wipe the entire worldâs memory of him, things had been⌠uneventful to say the least. He studied, he worked two boring jobs for a low minimum wage, and he visited Mayâs grave every afternoon.Â
There wasnât much else to do when nobody knew him as Peter Parker.Â
Sometimes, heâd go out in his itchy, make-shift spider suit that heâd fashioned with bright fabrics from a corner store that also sold his most favorite orange-flavored popsicles, stopping common crime as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
Other than that⌠he slept. He played Crossy Road on his phoneâor heâd rewatch the Star Wars movies for the billionth time.Â
He thought of his best friends, Ned and MJ. He thought of his brothers, Peter 2 and 3. He thought of his Aunt May, and Happy, who visited her grave almost as frequently as he did. He thought of the closest thing he had to a father figure, Tony Stark. He thought of Mr. Starkâs oldest kidâwhich he used to refer to as his significant other.Â
The love of his life.Â
Y/N Stark.
Peter missed you. He missed you more than anything in the entire world. He missed your wide smile and the specific way youâd throw your head back and laugh so hard youâd be grabbing onto his arm, gasping for breath. He missed how youâd press your chest into his back and kiss along his neck while he did his physics homework, quietly mumbling corrections to his calculations when heâd distractedly scribbled down the wrong formula. He missed how Mr. Stark would pull him to the side to give him the âResponsible Dad Talkâ just about every time the two of you hung out together, and how youâd have to tell your dad that you could make your own decisions and you didnât need him to hover over the two of you.
Besides, you used to say with a soft smile, itâs Peter. You know Peter. Heâs⌠heâs Peter. Heâd never hurt me, pops.
But he did hurt you. He erased all the memories you had togetherâhe completely wiped himself out of your life.
You loved himâand he had taken that away from you.Â
âI love you,â you had whispered into him as you hugged him tight, a tear slipping down the corner of your misty eyes. Peter wrapped his arms around your waist and held you all the closer. âCome back to me, Peter. Or⌠or I swear to fucking GodâIâll find you myself andââÂ
Your words died on your tongue as he surged forward and kissed you, hard and desperate. The kiss tasted of salt from your tears, of coppery blood from his throbbing, split lip. Neither of you cared.
You hiccupped a sob when he reluctantly pulled away, pressing one last kiss to your grimy forehead, before letting you go entirely. He turned before he could see you crumpling into MJ and Ned, who had roped you into a pained embrace, your shoulders trembling with wracking cries.Â
That was five months ago. Five months after Strange wiped everybodyâs memories of him.
Heâd wanted to find you againâhe really did. Obviously, you were an extremely busy person, not only being the oldest kid of Tony Stark, but also a genius student, a researcher, the heir of an entire company, and an older sibling to Morgan. But, if he was completely honest, he didnât really know what to say.
Hey, Iâm Peter Parker and Iâm in love with you, but I never got the chance to tell you because this wizard thatâs sort of a friend of your dadâs erased everyoneâs memory of me because the multiverse broke and a bunch of bad guys from other universes slipped into ours because I ruined my friendâs chances of getting into their dream collegeâ
Yeah. That wouldnât really work out, would it?
So he put it off.Â
Put it off for a week, which rolled into two, which became three, which became three months.
All of a sudden, it was summer, and he still hadnât seen you.Â
He made sure to go to the coffee shop MJ worked at, just to see how she and Ned were faring. From what he heard while he eavesdroppedâthey were doing great at MIT.Â
Peter tried his best to keep up with you through those news articles that kept flashing him ads like You Wouldnât Believe What This Celebrity Looks Like Without Makeup! or Learn All About Steve Rogersâ Exercise Routine!Â
There wasnât much that he could find about you, other than a couple pictures of you with your little sister, Morgan, chowing down on cheeseburgers at McDonaldâs. After all, youâd always been a rather private person, which was the one jarring difference between you and your infamously public father.Â
Your social medias were, expectedly, all privated. Peter doubted youâd accept his follow request, anyway.
It was an ordinary TuesdayâPeter had a shift at a car garage in a couple hours, which left him quite a bit of time to burn. He had ACDC softly playing in the backgroundâa band that both you and your dad had been completely infatuated withâhalf a dozen books spread out around him as he multi-tasked studying new chemical compounds for his web fluid, and rotational mechanics for an upcoming exam.Â
Then, much to his surprise, the doorbell rang.Â
Itâs probably the landlord, Peter thought with a grimace, thinking of the old woman who always had a cigarette between her coarse fingers, despite her own strict policy of no smoking in the building. He turned the music down to a low thrum, before swinging the door open.
And⌠there you were.
Peter could feel his heart drop to the floor.
You were⌠God, you were beautiful. There wasnât much about you that changedâyou got a new pair of glasses, he could see, and youâd cut your hair shorter. There was a tattoo peeking slightly out of your loose-hanging t-shirt etched over your skin, depicting a sketch of an arc reactor, in memory of your late father.Â
Besides that, you were the very same. The same bright, intelligent eyes, the same lips that puckered ever so slightly to the side in thought, and the same brows that knitted together whenever you were concentrating.Â
Your hands were shoved into your jeans as you cocked your head, studying him with narrowed eyes.
âErm,â Peter started, mouth opening and closing as his brain struggled to comprehend that you were here. In the flesh. Fuck, you were gorgeous. âWh⌠Y/N?â
Your eyebrow arched high up, closer to your hairline. âFirst name basis already, huh?â
âIâmââ
âYouâre the Spiderling, arenât you?â you asked abruptly, nearly giving him whiplash. Before he could say anything else, you were swiping your phone open, a hologram of a Youtube video playing right in front of his face. The video displayed Spider-Man swinging from building to building, stopping a car from ramming into an elderly woman crossing the street with nothing but brute strength. Peter didnât even remember that happening. To him, that was just an ordinary day. âThat mustâve been, whatâlike, thirty-five hundred pounds, about fifty miles an hour? Impressive.â
âWhââ
You brushed past him into his tiny apartment. Peter cursed himself for not throwing away the pizza boxes stacked on his kitchen counter, and for leaving his sketches of web shooters out on his desk.Â
A small smile graced your lips as you spotted the blue and red scrap fabrics discarded into the trash can. âHm. You make your own suit? My dad did, too. Godâare those goggles?â You picked up his vision goggles from his unmade bed, peering through them as you snorted in amusement. âHow on earth do you see anything though these?â
âIââ
You turned to him with an intrigued grin. âIâm sure you already know who I am, seeing as you knew my dad. Itâs nice to finally meet you, Spiderling.â
Peter blinked. The overwhelming sense of deja vu washed over him like a tidal waveâyou were behaving eerily similar to when Mr. Stark had approached him to go to Germany back in 2016.
âI⌠howâŚâ
âWhatâs your name?â you asked, gingerly stepping over his textbooks to stare at his pinboard, where his calendar hung.Â
âPeter,â he finally mumbled in reply, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. âAnd itâs Spider-Man, not Spiderling. What are you doing here? I mean, not that I donât want you here, but, uhmâhow did you find me?â
You looked over your shoulder with a knowing glint to your eyes. âI keep tabs on everybody my dad used to work with. Honestly, it wasn't too difficult to track you downâgiven the radius of where Spider-Man usually frequents and his response times to local crimes, it was easy to pinpoint where you lived. After my AI ran a couple voice recognition tests and estimated bodily proportions, that led me right to you.â You leaned against his rickety wooden desk with a curious grin. âThought youâd be a bit older, though. Looks like youâre around my age.â
âI⌠thatâs⌠wow.â
Wrinkling your nose in amusement, you turned back to his full calendar.Â
Peter prayed you wouldnât flip over to your birthday monthâheâd circled your birthday with bright red sharpie and drew loopy hearts all over the little square. Thankfully, you stopped skimming through, pausing at the relatively empty weeks where he had nothing planned other than a few work shifts.
âLooks like youâre free from school in a couple weeks,â you said. âI know this is really sudden and very abrupt of me, butâIâd love to offer you a job at Stark Labs. You must be crazy smart to design synthetic webs with a Youngâs modulus thatâs off the charts. Could really use that brain of yours at my company. Plus, youâve got a lot of work experience in the bag.âÂ
There was a beat of silence. Peter stared at you with parted lips.Â
A bit more timidly, you added on, âAnd⌠itâd be nice to work with someone that knew my dad.â
Well, Peter didnât want to brag, but heâd definitely say that he didnât only just know Tony Stark. But you didnât need to know that right at this moment.Â
âYes,â he blurted out, a bit louder than necessary. âAre you kidding me? Thatâs⌠thatâs amazing! Yeah, oh my God, Iâd love to! Thank you!â
Before he could stop himself, his body moved out of pure muscle memory and excitement, stepping forward to wind his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. Your familiar perfume made his eyes well with tearsâfuck, he missed you so fucking much.
âOhââ you began to say, muscles tensing. âOkay, then. Youâre welcome, pal.â
Rouge flushed hotly over his cheeks as he realized that you werenât his significant other anymoreâin your mind, this was the first time the two of you were meeting. Quickly, he let you go, backing away with a grimace.Â
âSorry,â he winced. âSorry, I justââ
âHave we met before?â you asked, cutting him off. âI donât know⌠it just feels like⌠nevermind. Iâd probably remember a cute face like yours.âÂ
Peterâs face burned an even brighter shade of red.Â
âHereâs my contact information. Iâll send you any contracts, NDAs, legality issues, dates for any research projects you might be interested in joining, payment negotiations, all that jazz,â you told him, placing a card onto his desk. âI look forward to working with you, Patrick.â
âPeter,â he corrected.
A smile played with the corner of your lips. âRight. Peter. Nice music taste, by the way. I love ACDCâI can see why my dad liked you so much.âÂ
With that, you ambled over his scattered belongings on the floor, flashing him one last beam, before striding straight out the door.Â
Peter stared at the open doorway for a minuteâor was it an hour? He really couldnât tell.Â
He collapsed into his bed, the goggles youâd dangled digging into his back. He arched up just enough to pull it away, clutching it to his chest with a goofy smile.
You found him.Â
Against all odds, youâd found him.
Fuck, Peter loved you so much.
Telling you thoughânow that was a different story entirely. One that Peter knew was going to take time.Â
But for youâŚÂ
Heâd wait centuries.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x you#marvel fanfiction#peter parker angst#marvel angst#mcu!peter x reader#peter parker fluff#mcu!peter parker#mcu!peter parker fanfiction#spiderman x reader#spider-man x reader#spiderman fanfiction#spider-man fanfiction#spiderman fluff#spiderman angst#peter parker x stark!reader
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Can I Be Him â A Pazzi Fic
Wherein Paige Bueckers, UConnâs prolific point guard, has been in love with Azzi Fudd, her longtime best friend and current teammate for the longest time. The persistence in scouting the girl to the huskies was not for nothing. But of course, Paige kept this fact to herself. Yet, even after all these years, behind the basketball starâs confident and cocky-like attitude, lies insecurities for seemingly not being enough for Azzi. Azzi constantly reminding Paige of the reality that she may never have feelings for the girl the same way the girl has for her when she repeatedly talks to Paige about her boy problems, deflates the latterâs self-esteem, while Azzi remains unaware. With the next season around the corner and Paigeâs newfound courage to move on from Azzi, what would become of their relationship?
CHAPTER 3.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
word count: 1,127
âYou know you canât just bribe me with a Shirley Temple and not explain your side of what happened earlier.â Azzi laughs at Paigeâs way of getting her to speak up and communicate. She sure knows how to make the younger laugh and open up to her.
Azzi places down her drink and gives in, âI was jealous of you and Nika.â
Paige, shocked by Azziâs confession, chokes on her drink. Azzi panics, standing up and getting behind Paige, then proceeding to hardly slap her back repeatedly as an attempt to âsaveâ the girl.
âAzzi what the hell are you doing?!â Paigeâs face was red from choking and was even struggling to question Azziâs action.
âHelping! What does it look like Iâm doing?!â Azzi seemed offended Paige was even asking that question.
âWell, stop it! Youâre making me choke even more!â Azzi lets out a low âohâ in realization and scratches her head, âMy bad, went a little overboard.â She apologizes and sits back down, now avoiding eye contact with the blonde.
Silence followed Paigeâs choking incident, but she wouldnât let Azzi not expound on what she just said a while ago.
âWhat did you mean when you said you were jealous of me and Nika?â Paige breaks the silence and Azziâs face turns hot in an instant, something Paige was oblivious to but Azzi felt like she was literally in the Sahara while being in an airconditioned establishment.
âAzzi?â Paige noticed Azzi looked out of it, growing concerned.
The older girl stretches her arm and feels Azziâs face. When Azzi flinches, Paige grips her arm tightly but not roughly, âAre you sick?â
âWhat? No?â Azzi answers with a short and fake laugh to break the tension she felt.
Paige had her hand on Azziâs face longer than she should have, not even realizing that she has been longing for Azziâs presence after an entire summer of not seeing each other because of Azzi spending more time with Parker. She sees Azziâs intense stare at her and pulls back her hand, clears her throat, and recoups herself.
âHow are things with you and Parker?â Paigeâs questions catches Azzi off guard, making her uncomfortable, but she plays it off not wanting Paige to think sheâs the one making her feel that way when in fact it was the mention of Parker.
Azzi takes a sip of her drink before answering, âHeâs funny. Nice. Great at basketball.â
âAre you interested in him?â The blue eyed girl asks Azzi with softness written all over her eyes and at this point, Azzi knew they were eyes she wanted to keep seeing for the rest of her life. So, despite knowing the answer to the question deep inside her heart, she chooses to lie.
âI am.â Two words that were enough for Paigeâs heart to drop. Yet, she loves the girl too much. Enough for her to choose to lie to herself if it was to make the girl happy. She gives Azzi a genuine smile, âThatâs all I needed to know.â Paige wanted to say so much more, but it was all she could get herself to say.
She was in pain, but that didnât matter because her best friend had finally found herself someone and what she felt didnât matter. She should be happy for Azzi and she was trying. If it was for Azzi, thereâs nothing she wouldnât do.
Seeing how Paige was seemingly happy for her, Azzi thought it was the perfect time to explain herself and the incident regarding Paige and Nika earlier, âAbout Nika. Ice made me realize I was jealous of the fact Nika and you are starting to have the friendship we share. Which sort of aggravated me once I saw you were also starting to care for her the same way you care for me, leading me to say those words to you.â
Paige just listened to the girl carefully, her heart too heavy to even say a word.
âIâm sorry for what I said, Paige. I truly am sorry. You are not careless nor stupid. If anyone was at that moment, it was me and I justââ Azzi starts rambling out of guilt and as Paige recognizes it, cutting off the curly haired girl immediately, âCan you stand for me?â
âHuh?â Azzi, confused, doesnât do what Paige asks of her.Â
Paige is forced to leave her seat, walks up to Azziâs side, gently grabbing her arm up for her to stand, and hugs her. She hugs her tightly and although the shorter one was puzzled, she hugs her back in the same intensity she was being hugged. Azzi craved Paigeâs presence just as much as Paige craved Azziâs, yet none of them knew that. But for a moment, their hug communicated the longing the two had for each other.
âClose or far. With me or without me. Even if you see me or you donât. Youâll always have me as your best friend, Paige.â And that was it. Azziâs words were enough for Paige to hug her tighter and make up her mind about moving on because in the end this was the extent of their relationship.
Azzi will never see you as more than her best friend and it would be unfair for her if you do. A tear falls from Paigeâs eye and she sniffles as a result, making it known to Azzi that her best friend had gotten emotional, but when she attempts to check up on Paige by releasing herself from the girlâs embrace, Paige repositions her left arm to Azziâs head, pushing it gently back to her shoulder.
âYouâll always have me as your best friend too, Azzi.â This time, it was Azziâs turn to be teary eyed and bury her head deeper into Paigeâs shoulder.
âLet me make it up to you. From now on Iâll be a better best friend.â Paige promises and Azzi wasnât so sure if she even wanted Paige to fulfill it.
I donât want you to. A thought that stayed in Azziâs mind, unable to get past her tongue because she was too scared. Too caught up in the possible consequences. Too frightened sheâd lose the best thing sheâs ever had.Â
Iâm yours. Words that Paige always told Azzi and she always never knew what to say in response, but right now, she did, although it may have been too late. Paige Bueckers was the best Azzi Fuddâs ever had and sheâs known it since forever, but has been too much of a coward to admit it. Not until now that sheâs starting to lose the girl. Meanwhile for Paige, all the years of her asking herself the question âCan I be him?â has finally been answered: She no longer can.
a/n: here's a sort of filler chapter. sorry to have kept those who anticipate updates waiting. hopefully everyone's doing well. much love. <3
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Hi! if you take requests I would like to make one where tf 141 + Los Vaqeros reaction to r/n coming back to the base/common room covered in blood, hurt and tortured (I love angst ngl)
( if its okay can you make a Platonic r/n with little sibling energy)
Last Words of a Shooting Star -141+ Los Vaqueros
I love angst too and because I love hurting my own feelings.... here goes a little something. Not sure if it needs a warning but, just read at your own risk babes, bc I do talk abt I guess heavy stuff (as you can tell,,,I can't tell what is and what isn't traumatizing anymore so be careful.) This one gives me Every Since New York vibes
Pt. 2
----
You had been on leave after a mission back in November. Price made sure you stayed off base for 3 months. The excuse was: they need peace for a few months, they deserve it." But instead of being home you had been captured, tortured and almost trafficked. You fought for ever second of life you knew you deserved, while being captured. No one in the team knew about any of this.
*3 MONTHS BEFORE*
"see ya later boys" you said and got in your truck. (yes you drive one bc ghost said it was a better vehicle.) Soap waved until your cars silhouette was no longer in view. He knows you'll come back with home back goodies for him. But before you passed the first stop light one car crashed into yours. Another pulled over, 4 men with guns got out. You quickly held onto your pistol, but you knew best and didn't fight them. Your left eyebrow dripping blood. You got off the car and held your hands up. "Get in the car with them" he ordered you and a big buff man pushed you around until you sat in their vehicle, "My team will be here any minute now you know." you bluffed.
"Well by the time they get here we'll be gone." and off they drove. The man sitting next to you hit your head with the end of his gun, you blacked out.
These men had carefully planned the hold kidnapping. From taking your car elsewhere to texting Price that you made it home, the same way you would've texted him.
For 3 months they tortured you, asking questions you swore you didn't have an answer to. For 2 months you believed that the team would know you'd be missing. For 1 month you planned your escape.
And as the near came close, you heard them talk about trafficking you. "Think about it boss, anyone will pay good money for a member of that task force." That's when all hope was gone. Your limbs had been slowly giving up. By this point you were sure that your plan wouldn't work.
Until you saw the perfect opportunity.
"When kidnapped remember there is a window of opportunity when being transported from location A to B, so be wise and use that."
So you did, and now you had found your way back to the base.
You managed to get pass security and into your part of the base, there you heard Gaz and Soap laughing. Your eyes watered. You walked in and held the floor as everyones eyes met you.
"Kid," was all price could let out, he soon ran to your side. Holding on to you with so much care. Soap ran out for a medic, Ghost made way as you were taken to the infirmary.
Gaz held your hand the entire time. But your grip wasn't too strong. They were all losing you.
"CariĂąo, don' close your eyes." fear taking control over Alejandros' voice.
Rudy ran behind you all. But soon stoped when he got a call from his team. He soon found the footage of your kidnap. Los vaqueros were all informed of what had happened. They had taken you under their wings when you first met them. You reminded them of their siblings at home. How energetic and funny you were. You like a storm, took over their hearts. "Le dirĂŠ al coronel de esto." He walked away from his team and to the infirmary.
These are their own personal reactions:
Price:
The second he held you in his hands his heart completely shattered.
He hated how your body leaned against his, this time your weight much lighter.
He didn't care about anyone else in the room
There was hesitation, his first thoughts were on taking care of you, but he is a soldier first. He must know what happened and who is to blame.
For hours while the medical staff was treating your injuries, he would leaved the room, making phone calls and deals with old colleagues of his.
Ghost had to stop him from hitting a medical staff member, "sir you can't come in," "that's my soldier in there, kid needs me!" he'd say. "c'mon old man , sit down" Ghost would try and guide him back to his seat.
For minutes he was close to loosing his shit.
Once Rudy walked in with information, he went hysterical
He cursed every one and everything
He never lit a cigar, because if he did, he was afraid shit would hit the fan and he'd burn that last gift you gave him.
Soap:
He never spoke, the man that had been talking for hours before you arrival stopped.
He couldn't form any words, he thought of when he last saw you, how your eyes were so full of life, and now that image replaced a much weaker version of you.
The blood around your body he hoped was someone else's
He left the room when Price and Ghost were talking to doctors.
He discovered you had to be put in the ICU,
He cried, and as tears fell down his face, his hand made way to the cross that hanged from his neck.
The same one you gave him on his birthday, after you had found out he lost his.
He cried even more thinking of the times you and him had laughed together. How much Gaz and you made him miss his family back home.
"r/n's okay...they'll be better tomorrow" he assured himself and repeated it like a mantra.
"Please be okay" he whispered as kicked a rock while walking around.
Gaz:
Like Soap, he stayed quiet, only spoke when he made calls to his friends at the local police station.
He cried too, but he soon left once Price told him to. "take time son"
Once he reached his room, he got on his bed and hugged a pillow.
it was times like this when you'd come in and hug him. "Everything will be fine" you'd say as he embraced you.
He called him mom, something you had taught him to do, incase things went south and you wouldn't be there to listen.
The images of the torn clothes and frail body of yours came to mind every time he closed his eyes.
It was always you and Gaz who at times would fall short on the kindness of Ghost.
When he least needed it, a joke you once told him came across his train of thoughts.
He called every doctor he knew
He walked into your room and laid in your bed.
" just tell me something George,...what do you mean you don't know nothing...okay can you just pretend you do?...I need something, so tell me something"
Ghost:
This man had it bad. When he first saw you, his mind when to when he discovered his family had died
He swore he only let you in because you somehow creeped into his heart
Your jokes and attitude reminded him of his brother Tommy
"Look ghost..look" you would say as you attempted a cart wheel. 'You'll only get hurt" he'd reply. But when you did things like that, he looked at you with such adoration.
Between you two, it was black cat and golden retriever type of vibe.
He stayed next to price, but once he was alone in that hall, he almost let the guilt win.How can a man as strong as him let this happen to you
The first time he knew you'd be his family was when you held him in your arms as you two laid in a field
His tears falling down as he heard your heartbeat, "close your eyes, have no fear, the monster's gone and r/n is here," you softly sang, a giggle mixed with the melody
"beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy" you whispered as your hands caressed his hair. He closed his eyes slowly drifting to sleep. "Good night Simon, see you in the morning" you whispered against his head.
When he stopped Price from hurting that staff member, he went out and picked any flowers around base. He came back with a handful, so tiny on his palms, but so meaningful to him
He sneaked into your room, no one noticed and he sat on your bed, holding you so close to him.
"Before you cross the street, Take my hand, Life is what happens to you, While you're busy making other plans, Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, Beautiful r/n" he quietly sang to you.
Alejandro:
Once Rudy had told him they had footage of your kidnap, he lost his mind.
this man went feral, Rudy would try and stop it, but man was he furious.
"No hagas algo a lo pendejo, coronel" But he'd discard his friend and eventually after 4 hours of search, he'd find the perpetrators
We've heard people say "met hell" but these men met Alejandro and boy did they met more than hell
Idc what you say he prayed for the first time since he was a child.
While on search this man swore he heard your voice, "r/n?" he would walk around a crowd of people
for moments he believed it was all a dream or a horrible prank you managed to pull. But once he saw Rudy wipe a few tears, he knew it was real
He went numb when his hand met your skin
I swear this man got sick the moment he saw you, he never got sick when looking at anyone in the condition you were now in.
His mind went back to the times he was teaching you Spanish.
"el helicĂłptero no puede volar" he said, to which you replied "volar? the helicopters got no balls?" you asked and he bursted out laughing
Rudy:
this man was devastated, but he had to be the strong one while everyone wasn't
he was the one to pray while looking at the footage. "Dios mĂo" he kept sayin as he repeated the video.
But soon emotions took over and he left the room.
He held onto the bracelet you two bought while he showed you around his town, you had visited Las Almas long after your mission there. You two ate and ate until your stomachs hurt. "Eres mi mejor amigo Rudy." you hugged him, Alejandro sat in the front, content with you for speaking Spanish.
When he first saw how bloody you looked he went pale. It was one of the things he never knew he would see
You remind him of his siblings, annoying at times, funny, but understands his humor like no other.
This man is the biggest softie, he was always Rodolfo on the job or Rudy, but man he was someone else with ya, always soft and kind to you, his voice would switch so fast when speaking from soap to you.
He was a trained solider to withstand any form of torture, but seeing you hurt would've made that soldier talk.
When no one looked he walked into a church and confessed to a priest, then asked "por favor dime que estarĂĄ bien"
When all else fails, you pray, mijo, his mother would say.
a/n: I absolutely adored writing this, so I hope you all enjoyed!
REQUEST ARE OPEN!
#141 x reader#mw2 141#cod 141#task force 141#141#gn reader#simon ghost riley#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#los vaqueros#alejandro x rodolfo#alejandro x reader#alejandro mw2#alerudy#rudy call of duty#rudy mw2#cod rudy#rudy parra#alejandro#rodolfo rudy parra#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod#ghost cod#mw2#price mw2#ghost mw2#mwii#call of duty mwii
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Loser!Ellie x Vampire!Reader
Authors note: hii guys, this is my first time posting on tumblr so please go easy on me lmaoo, also English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes, please donât hesitate to call me out im always open to criticism!! (just donât be mean about it lol)
>loser!Ellie whoâs life is just so mundane and boring until she finds out the new girl in her class, who she has a little crush on , is a vampire but instead of being scared,she falls even more for the girl and offers to be her personal blood buffet.
>loser!Ellie that spends entire nights researching about vampires so she can know more about you but eventually develops into a hyperfixation .
>loser!Ellie that canât help but whimper every time your fangs pierce her skin, it hurts but it feels so good at the same time (she canât help but get a little turned on).
>loser! Ellie who would lay her head on your lap demanding that you play with her hair while she babbles about space and dinosaurs, stumbling on her words,all dizzy after you drank from her.
>loser!Ellie who would blush so hard when you tell her how delicious her blood is.
>loser!Ellie whose favorite book is now âCarmillaâ (iykyk).
>loser!Ellie who gets addicted to your bites to the point she makes herself bleed around you in order to tempt you to bite her again.
>Loser!Ellie that could hear your stories of many year ago for hours. Sheâs so fascinated by all the lives youâve lived (and sheâs really grateful she can be part of one of your many stories).
>loser!Ellie who thinks you are the stylish person on earth.
>loser!Ellie who looks up at you with the prettiest green doe eyes you have ever seen after feeding on her.
>loser!Ellie who finally finds courage to kiss you, your mouth still stained with her blood, but she doesnât care( she thinks itâs hot), a soft loving kiss that eventually gets more heated and aggressive, your fangs poking her lips,your blood red lipstick living kiss marks all over her face, Ellie is having the time of her life.
>loser!Ellie whoâs addicted to your natural seductive vampire scent, always with her head somewhere on your neck, collarbone or chest.
>loser!Ellie that finds you the hottest when you just finished drinking from her, your mouth is covered in her blood, your chest rising from your heaving breathing, your eyes rolling back from how good she tastesâŚ
>loser!Ellie that gets so shy and flustered because of the amount of expensive gifts you give her. She likes this new guitar? Itâs hers. She needs more art supplies? You buy her the best ones. A telescope so she can see the stars and planets? Already in her room. When you have been alive for so long itâs not weird to have an insane amount of money to spend on your sweet girlfriend <3
>loser!Ellie who feels bad for not being able to buy you a bunch of stuff back,she wants to spoil you too :â)
>loser!Ellie whoâs eyes water and is left speechless when you tell her that she is the greatest gift you could have.
>loser!Ellie that paints and draws you over and over again because youâre her muse. She also makes paintings to decorate your big mansion, every room has at least something made by her.
>loser!Ellie always losing card games against you, who after so many years became a master in them, but Ellie still has hope that sheâll win against you someday( when she does its because you let her win).
>loser!Ellie whoâs had many sleepless nights thinking (and crying) about how sheâs going to get old and die while you stay young forever :â(
>loser!Ellie that begs you to turn her because thereâs nothing she wants more than to spend eternity with you.
Thinking of writing a full fic on this, i just need the time lmao
#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie x you#ellie williams x reader#ellie tlou#loser!ellie#the last of us
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Man After Midnight - Matpat x reader
TW: Collen Balinger, mention of death
The air was still. No breeze. No wind. No rain. No warmth. It was haunting. The group of youtubers had been at Everlock for about 3 hours, making it half past 12. Y/N Davidson had been constantly on edge. She had won about 2 challenges out of the 4 that have happened. She had just witnessed her best friend, and crush, die. He lost a challenge to Manny, and it was heartbreaking to see. She looked at him before it happened, he couldn't move which triggered her to do the same.
She hoped all this was a nightmare and she would wake up and watch the late show in her flat all alone. Normally she would hate to spend the evening on her own, but right now. She would take it. Y/N couldn't bring herself to watch another friend die. She was currently fighting survivors guilt.
Currently, she is sitting next to Joey, listening to him rant on about something to do with the league of evil he's with. She just wanted him to shut up. That league is the reason Mat was dead. Nothing could convince her otherwise. Autumn winds started blowing outside the window, possibly a sign the curse was wearing off maybe? Probably not!
It made her so depressed to look around the room and see the gloom. However she didn't blame anyone, the best player had just died. Who wouldn't give up? By this point all the players had. Y/N found herself praying to herself. Praying for someone to come and save them. 'is there a man out there? Someone to hear my prayer?' she wondered, looking around the room.
Suddenly, Nikita placed a bottle in front of her. "Drink up sunshine, you can't give up now!" She stated "Mat would want you to fight for your survival, to live your life, not to give up!" All Y/N could do is nod and take a swig of her drink. "Gimmie gimmie gimmie a man after midnight" she thought to herself as she took the sip. "Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away"
All Y/N wanted to do was go home and give her brother the biggest hug ever. Tell him she's sorry for everything she had ever done to him. This mission really made her realize that tomorrow isn't always promised. "Gimmie gimmie gimmie a man after midnight" she repeated hoping something would happen. "To lead me through the darkness to the break of the day"
This seems like something a movie star would film for a horror film. It's crazy to think she was living it. Looking around, she realized the next task was being read out loud. She needed to stop day dreaming and get her head into focus. She needed to survive. For George (her brother) , for her family. She couldn't let them down by giving up and dying.
"Find the end of the rainbow, with a fortune to win! It's so different from the world you're living in" Calliope states, great another riddle. After a while of thinking, Y/N finally says something.
"It must be about children, they live in the same world yet it's so different to the world we live in. They have an imagination, and see the world in bright colourful rainbows."
"True, but why would there be a task involving children?" Manny asks, raising an eyebrow
"Well this entire carnival is messed up, it wouldn't surprise me if there were children involved"
"Wait! Y/N/N you're onto something there! Think about it! Maybe there are not fully children. Maybe they are dolls. They are so common at these things, aren't they? Think about it! It makes so much sense!" Colleen agrees
"So you mean to tell me that we might have to fight killer children!" Rossana comments
"Doll children but basically" Joey says
Y/N found herself hoping again that all this was a nightmare, she was going to stop day dreaming and then be in her living room. She would be tired of the TV and she opens a window and she gazes into a night but there's nothing to see, no one in sight.
Y/N doesn't know when, she had been silent and following the others, but they had found themselves in a room with a maiden of madness. God help whoever had to be put in there. It's gonna hurt. She hoped it wasn't her. The tarret cards were put at the front and Calliope brought Colleen up to do the first vote.
She looked around the room, at all the people who were there. Somehow she wondered who would most likely go after her. Y/N! It clicked! Y/N would want revenge about what happened to Mat. Of course she would vote for Colleen. She debated on whether to tell or not. In the end she decided to.
"I'm voting for Y/N" she said emotionless "she wants me dead, and I am planning on surviving!"
"Is there a man out there, someone to hear my prayers!" Y/N screamed internally, hoping if she prayed hard enough she wouldn't be put in the box.
Before Colleen could step back from placing a vote, Safiya said something "why would Y/N want you dead. In every challenge she has voted for herself of Joey!"
"I voted for Matt Safiya! She's going to want me dead!"
Y/N's heart broke. She had defended Colleen to Mat almost a dozen times and yet this is how she repaid her. "You voted for Mat?" She whispered
Colleen didn't know what to say, she assumed Y/N knew, and had voted her into a death trap. No one said a word, until Joey went up, "look I'm sorry Colleen but, I'm going to vote you in, you can't just vote someone in for a reason like that!"
"Gimmie gimmie gimmie a man after midnight! Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away!" Y/N said internally as she stepped up, she looked at all the names. She didn't want to start drama, and so she subtly put Colleens card forward, making her vote hidden!
Quite a lot of people voted for Colleen, there were a few random votes here and there due to lack of cards in Colleen's pile. "Gimmie gimmie gimmie a man after midnight, take me through the darkness, to the break of the day!" Y/N internally prayed again, nerves twisting in her stomach, her heart beat quickening by the second. She feared that she was going to be the one to go in.
The cards were shuffled, and a card was chosen. "Gimmie gimmie gimmie a man after midnight won't somebody help me chase the shadows away" another silent prayer. Calliope took a card and looked at it, "gimmie gimmie gimmie a man after midnight take me through the darkness through the break of the day!"
"The disco dancer" Calliope announced showing the card to the rest of the group. Colleen shook her head, as Joey and Safiya grabbed her. Y/N stood at the back of the room with Rosanna as the rest of the group put Colleen in the box, despite her screams and pleas for mercy. None were listened to. As the doors shut, Colleen let out a scream as powerful as banshee, causing the group to cover their ears.
A tear gently fell down Rosanna's face, this felt immoral to her. Slowly, the group headed back to their safe space, making sure they had the artifact. Through investigation, the group found out that they could revive one person. Y/N was laid on a sofa as Safiya and Joey discussed who to bring back. Manny and Nikita sat on another sofa, while Rossana sat on her own playing with Matt's badge.
Y/N found herself drifting to sleep, she needed the sleep, she couldn't sleep though. She needed it though. Before she could properly drift off, the two came over and announced they had chosen someone. The group sat and looked around, wondering where the said person was. Wondering, if it even worked.
"Is there a man out there? Someone to hear my prayers?" Y/N internally prayed again. "Gimmie gimmie gimmie a man after midnight, won't somebody help me chase the shadows away" there was still no sign of life. Just as the group were about to give up, a crash was made, followed by a yellow flash. "Gimmie gimmie gimmie a man after midnight, take me through the shadows, through the break of the day"
She exhaled slightly, and sat up a little and repeated the thoughts in her head. "Gimmie gimmie gimmie a man after midnight, won't somebody help me chase the shadows away, gimmie gimmie gimmie a man after midnight take me through the shadows to the break of the day"
Suddenly, a confused figure walked into the room, Y/N couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Mat walk through the door. Carefully, she rubbed her eyes and watched Rossana walk over and hug Mat, giving him back his badge.
Mat proceeded to hug everyone in the group, how her he saw no sign of Colleen, or his crush Y/N which made a sort of anxiety rise inside of him. Mainly directed at Y/N. Once he hugged the others, he looked over at the sofa and saw a tired, unmotivated and emotional Y/N looking at him. He ran over and gave her the biggest hug he could possibly give. He was thankful to be alive. And he was reunited with Y/N.
"I'm sorry for leaving you" he muttered, looking at her, admiring the twinkle in her eyes. He quickly looked down at her lips and then back at her own, realizing she had done the same. He thought nothing of it.
However, once it was all over, and the five survivors (Joey, Matt, Nikita, Y/N and Rossana) walked out, Mat carefully pulled Y/N aside. "Y/N, please, we've been friends for months now, and I always feel this feeling around you. Like there's butterflies in my stomach. And it took dying for me to realize this, but I like you! Not in a friend way, or a platonic way, as In I want a relationship with you" he confessed.
Y/N didn't even answer, she just crashed her lips onto his, that gave him his answer. The answer is that they were official. "I like you too!"
if you want to support this account; please like and follow, maybe even repost and go look on my AO3 and Wattpad - both under the name teen_antisocial. and if you're feeling up to it, please buy me a coffee but please don't feel pressured to.
masterlist
#escape the night#season 3#escape the night season 3#matpat#matpat x reader#the detective#its also on my ao3
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Haiii!! These headcanons have been amazing!!! Could I perhaps ask for a Dr.Flug X Reader where they're a famous popstar, please?? tysm!! <3
Dr. Flug X Popstar!Reader
a/n: eeee of course I can write this!! This is a really cute idea, I hope you enjoy!! Im working my way through a few of your guy's requests so bare with me! I plan on maybe doing a few drabbles or headcanons for some other fandoms within the following days so keep a look out for that!
fandom: Villainous/Villainos words: 1026 cw: none! just super cute fluff!
(PLATONIC):
Now that you were starting to gain more and more popularity amongst people, you had been wanting to expand your musical talent to all reaches of life, whether it be good or bad.
Being a famous popstar made it easy to get connections, thankfully, and a little birdie had told you about the infamous âHat Islandâ that was rumored to be crawling with villains, owned by none other âLord Black Hatâ himself.
You were by no means a saint, let alone a hero, and thought that everyone deserved to have the joy of music, even those of lower status. So what do you do? Schedule a meeting with the most feared villain known to man!
Imagine Flug's surprise when he opens the door to see you standing there.
The man about damn near faints on the spot. A famous super-star, standing right in front of him? AND they're cute?? Oh boy.
He had heard of you when Demencia would loudly blast her music from her boombox, Obnoxious yes, but he would absentmindedly find himself humming your tunes or tapping his foot to the beat while he worked in the lab, much to his dismay.
Eventually that led to him listening to you in his (very little) free time, and he, actually?? Enjoyed?? It??
Now, the tricky part was going to be trying to convince Black Hat to let you hold a concert on his island, This old man intimidated tf out of you, if looks could kill youâd be dead before you even stepped into his office. But, you tried to remain confident.
You offer to pay him for compensation, and give him a small percentage of the profits from your show. How can he refuse that offer? Itâs money! He reluctantly agrees to your proposition, and you sign a temporary contract.
For extra gratitude you offer him and his henchman VIP tickets for your show, Black Hat scowls, saying something along the lines of âthat frivolous techno music gives me a headache..â But! He doesn't deny his henchmen going!
Of course you don't leave without the eldritch putting the fear of god into you.
Demencia vigorously shakes Flug in excitement, when she finds out they have VIP tickets to your performance, for once the doctorâs eyes light up.
The night of your performance happened to be one of his best memories, he was absolutely enthralled by your singing, and he got to witness all up close!
When he comes backstage to meet you after the show he nearly faints again. You thought he was kind of cute for that really.
You excitedly greet him and his group and chat for a while. Answering questions and sharing stories, you actually find out the two of you have a lot in common! As the evening wraps up you pull him aside privately to give him your number, if he ever wanted to chat. HE NEARLY FAINTS AGAIN.
(ROMANTIC):
Thatâs how you two began talking. You texted frequently, excitedly sharing each other's interests. Sometimes youâd snap a photo before or after a performance, and heâd send you pictures of his latest invention, or his model airplane collection.
Itâs actually you, that ends up asking him out on a date. Through a video call, his reaction was adorable, he looked almost in disbelief but dumbly nodded his head to your confession.
The both of you lead busy lives, so you carefully plan out when you can visit and when he can get the time off. (He sucks up to Black Hat for an entire week).
You settle on something quiet and not far away, you didnât want to be bombarded by fans or paparazzi during your small visit. Itâs at a small cafe, Flug claimed it made the best coffee heâs ever had.
He watches all of your shows btw. Manâs is committed. Whether that be streaming the concert on his phone while he works or going to your shows/events in person whenever you visit the island again. Itâs also a plus that he enjoys your music!
You singing to him, ouGHHHH. Heâs starstruck every time, entranced by your voice. He really thinks of you as an angel, maybe a siren.
Love songs!! You write several dedicated to him while your dating, he nearly cries when you reveal this to him. Who am I kidding? He totally cried.
He makes you cute little gadgets to make your life a little easier. Like a custom-made microphone for your shows, you use it every time <3.
You SPOIL him. You get that bag (pun intended) and you think he deserves to be treated with everything he could possibly want.
If you ever meet 5.0.5 you best believe youâre treating that bear like your own son. Heâs such a sweetie, how could you not? And if you sing him little lullabies to help him fall asleep?? Flugâs heart almost bursts out of his chest. How did he get so lucky??
He often wonders how he bagged you (pun intended). He's pretty insecure of himself already, it really is a mystery to him. He almost feels like he doesn't deserve any of it at all. But of course, you see right through his act, and reassure him endlessly.
You both keep the relationship on the downlow, mainly for your sake. He didn't want your reputation to be ruined if the press found out you were dating a notorious supervillain. You had told him you didn't care what the public thought, but he insisted.
There are numerous photos of you on his phone, not in a creepy way though. Most of them are selfies of two of you, or from photoshoots/concerts. He def has you as his screensaver.
You loooove peppering his bagged face with kisses. He gets so flustered it's adorable!! He secretly loves them. If you wear lipstick, you love seeing the aftermath of your kiss attack, his face painted in a lovely shade of red.
Overall, being in a long-distance relationship definitely has its ups and downs, but Flug thinks itâs all worth it, especially for you, heâs willing to give it a try. How romantic.
#black hat organization#villainous#dr flug#x reader#dr flug x reader#headcanons#villainos#dating headcanons#black hat villainous#blackhat#drflug#drflugxreader#plsprotecthimatallcostoHMYGOD#gender neutral reader#popstar!reader
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Old Bones | Chapter Five
Summary: After fleeing a toxic relationship, you fear for your safety and hire a bodyguard. He's masked, impassible, and damn good at what he does.
Warning(s): strong language, gore, violence, blood, mentions of guns, depictions of injuries
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: new hiding spot, or just an excuse for them to cuddle for warmth later?? you tell me ;) also, not proofread so don't mind grammar mistakes pls<3
ęŚęˇ MAIN MASTERLIST ęˇęŚ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? âĄÂ¸.â˘*' â â đ Ë⧠âËĘ prev. chapter | next chapter | ao3 ver. | playlist ęŚęˇ O.B MASTERLIST
Metanoia
Simonâs eyes crinkled in defeat. It was a double-edged sword no matter what he said.
âYou shouldnât be out anywhere right now, you realize that?â He remained stiff as if that was going to stop you.
Weeks before, it was him shutting you down; stunning you into silence. The tables turned on that dynamic at about the fourth dayâthe fourth day of hunkering down in his disarranged apartment. Sure, the place was nice, the couch was cushy, and the view of the stars was quite literally out of this world.
However, the honeymoon phase of limited amenities had faded away, and you were on the verge of ending up in a padded room with a lifetime ticket clenched in your fist.
âSimon, if I donât see some sunshine, Iâm going to strangle you myself.â The sarcastic, jovial grin on your face remained, even after threatening to squeeze the life out of him.
And not to mention, that goddamn tea; seemingly the only beverage he had to drink aside from dodgy tap water. Every morning youâd sit there, sipping on it like you werenât on the brink of throwing it all out. All while you do it, heâs drinking his own, letting out a âhmmâ like itâs the best thing heâs ever tasted.
âSunshine?â He asks rhetorically, eyes now squinting. âGo to the roof, wave your arms around, and absorb it. Thereâs your sunshine.â
Next thing you know, one of the pencils from his workspace is hurling toward his face. If you canât get your enrichment time outside, you might as well find it in the little things.
His hand is out in record time, catching the pencil before it touches him. His head cocked downward slightly as if completely bored by your âeffortsâ already. He tosses the pencil back onto the table, watching as it comes to a stop when it collides with your mug.
The rest of your face remained stoic, except for your lips, which have pursed into a displeased arch.
âFucking hellâŚâ he repines, this time under his breath.
The usual glare he gives in an attempt to end the argument has fallen void against your stubbornness, causing his posture to drop in defeat.
âOne hour, and not a minute more.â
â
For the first time in weeks, you can finally stretch your limbs. Being planted in front of a television is enjoyable until the couch starts to memorize the shape of your hipsâthen it becomes downright depressing.
Youâre pulling at the grass and rubbing the strands between your fingers, savoring the feeling of Earth below you, rather than a foam cushion. This was all you wanted and more. To enjoy the last few sunny days of autumn, before the entire city is covered in blankets of snow.
âYouâve got thirteen minutes left.â Heâs either been looking at the ticking watch on his wrist, or around at the surroundings for threats. Itâs no wonder heâs so miserable in the heat; heâs in his typical sauna of a black bomber jacket.
You reach for your bag and pull out a few bills, starting toward the vending machines. âDo you want something?â
Simon waves his hand, nearly rolling his eyes. Inside heâs probably cursing himself for saying an hour, instead of thirty minutes. But if heâs anything, heâs a man of his word.
When you return, you slide a can of soda across the top of the bench regardless. The can is swallowed by his large fist and stuffed into one of his bottomless pockets. Heâd rather die than let you watch him enjoy the soda he refused.
You, on the other hand, feel like youâre drinking a delicacy; itâs practically by the time the one you bought him reaches his fist. Miles better than hard tap water, or the goddamn tea he buys.
Considering how far youâd wandered from the lot when you arrived, you take him standing as your cue to trek across the park. Instead of staying a few feet behind this time, Simon walks side by side, nearly causing you to walk halfway in the grass. He has no perception of how large he truly is or just doesnât care toâeither way is plausible to you.
Although his instincts told him not to let you come out here, deep inside he was savoring any moment he was not dodging a bullet, or reaching for his pistol.
Once youâve reached the lot again, youâre peeking at his watch when it comes into view, watching as each second ticks away. Heâs holding open the passenger door, leaning his hip against it in impatience.
âI still have two minutes of air.â
This time, the look in his eyes actually causes you to drop any further argument about to come out. Once heâs climbed inside the driverâs seat again, he makes a show of locking the doors right away.
Click.
He shifts the truck into drive, looking down at the gas icon, which is nearing empty. He grumbles something under his breath as if threatening the truck like a hostage who heâs finally fed up with. Simon pulls around and finds the nearest gas station, pulling up to the pump closest to the entrance.
You reach over to the buttons on your side, unlocking the doors when he parks. Youâre determined to savor those two minutes you were denied.
He keeps his eyes on you as he begins pumping the gas, watching as you lean against the bed of the truck, nose in the air to spite him.
Once he returns the nozzle to the pump, he shuts the gas cap. âStay by the truck.â
Heâs gone inside to pay, and youâre relishing in the breeze blowing on you. Half of it is annoying him with punctuality, and the other is genuinely minding the freedom. Youâre shielding the top of your field of vision as you peer up at the cerulean sky, for a few seconds forgetting about the horror show this endeavor has been.
The crinkle of a paper bag rips the tranquility out of your hands, snapping your vision to the man in front of you. Heâs digging through the paper bag, unkempt brows tightened. Your posture straightens, and your hand is already on the revolver tucked in your waistband.
Although, itâs not a gun youâre greeted with, nor a weapon at all for that matter. Itâs a boxâa small, nicely embellished gift boxânow outstretched to you.
âWhat is it?â You question, hand still resting on the grip of the pistol. His expression is as unsure as yours as if he isnât privy to the details either.
As soon as youâve gripped the box with your other hand, the man tosses the bag aside and begins walking back in the direction he came.
Simon noticed the man approach as he was collecting his change. His reflexes allowed him to tuck his wallet away, all while watching the encounter without breaking his glare. He takes the side route, going through the aisles so the clerk doesnât notice how heâs reaching for his iron.
Youâre holding the gift box, and the stranger has walked around the building, now out of Simonâs sight. Every bit of this put a sour taste in his mouth. More so the man he could no longer see, than the gift you were holding.
Youâd thrown the box on the floor, scrambling back into the passenger seat. Your face had lost its blood flow from the shock of the giftâs contents, while Simonâs was turning red in agitation.
Instead of stuffed into a trunk, or spurting blood from a bullet wound, it's still you standing there; unscathed, confused, and peeling the lid off the arcane gift box.
Gold tissue paper to match the outside, paired with small sapphire confetti blowing away with the axis of the wind. You took one last look around the side of the building, where the man was still nowhere to be seen, then pulled back the paper.
You felt like you were going to squeeze the life out of the cardboard box at the sight of it. Your fingers felt clammy, and the tremble youâd finally gotten over had returned. It was the ringâthe one youâd left behind several towns ago, hundreds of miles ago, and most of all the one you had to fight so hard to finally rid yourself of.
But yet there it was, glimmering in all its glory, tinkering from the sun rays just as it did during the outdoor reception Cal insisted on.
You shook your head visibly as if to physically rid your body of the vivid memories coming back to you, causing the box to tumble to the cement below you. Any semblance of survival instinct you had moments agoâthe compulsion to search for any threats, had fizzled away the second you laid eyes on the salient diamond.
You climbed back inside the truck and locked the doors, finding the burner phone in your pocket. Simon had disappeared from the spot in front of the cashier counter, nowhere to be found. The jitter caused a few typos in your text, but you sent it in nonetheless. Your head hit the headrest behind you, as you were now white-knuckling your revolver, searching for any sign of a tail in the neighboring vehicles.
One thing was clear nowâyou were being surveillance again and probably watched the entirety of your hiding at Simonâs apartment. Cal had stepped up his game.
It was no longer gunmen, nor a petty attempt to corner you at the courthouseâit was mind games. The last play he had, was a futile attempt to break you without breaking the skin.
You could lie to yourself, and hide behind Simon, but once he was inside your head, he was winning the game.
His phone chimed in his pocketâthe ringtone heâd picked for your SOS messages only. He wasnât going to check it and be sure; he was going to find the bastard that brought the gift to you and get his answers. That was the only thing he was sure of right now.
He concealed the hold he had on his pistol with the flap of his jacket, exiting the gas station the way he came in. Simon snuck around his truck first, stuffing the ring into his pocket once he spotted it. Then, kept moving to meet the man around the other side.
Simon noticed the man within seconds; the back profile of him as he made his attempt at stealth. Skittish feet wearing sneakers a few sizes too big, stumbling as he looked over his shoulder constantly.
His hand clamped around the shoulder of the stranger, forcing him to whip around. Simon gave no attempt at a greeting, nor any negotiation. Simon pistol-whipped the captive with only a sliver of his strength, as to stun him, not crack his skull openâyet.
He merely dragged the man into the bathroom of the gas stationâthe only single stall left unoccupied. A grimy box with a toilet and sink, clearly accumulating the filth from years of no maintenance. To Simon, it was a perfect room for âconversationâ with the manâany knocks given, or screams of agony would be drowned out by the constant passing of eighteen-wheelers.
Simon shoved the meek captive against the door once heâd slammed it shut, gripping him by the t-shirt swallowing his wimpish body. He was much younger; youthful clothes, a dingy appearance, and widened eyes spilling over with alarm.
Not a plea in the book could phase Simon, or make him loosen his grip. Whether he was given specifics or not, he gave you something that unnerved you, he put you in harmâs way, even if only mentally.
âWho gave the order?â He spat, only giving the man mere seconds to reply. His mouth quivered, left agape like he was still too disoriented from the blow.
There was no time for negotiations, waiting, or pandering. That got him nowhere before.
Simon held onto the collar of his shirt and plummeted his head into the edge of the sink, each throw given with pure brute force. The impact echoed off the walls of the roomâthe deep thunk of a metal sink against a brittle skull. His brutish grip was the only sense of balance to the man, now sputtering as the crimson dripped from the exposed flesh on his forehead, all the way down to his neckline.
Patience was wavering as was the manâs ability to enunciate a single word. âWhoâŚâ Simon began, blinking away the splatter that found its way to his lashes, â...gave the order?â His tone was more of an inhumane growl.
âNo idea,â the strangerâs eyes began to waver shut, as the blood trickling began to stain the whites of his eyes, ââjust the money and a picture of her, I swearââ
Simon's umbrage only worsened at the sight of his cluelessness. He gave a few blows, each one causing a more audible snap; one on the cheekbone, then the jaw, and a final one on the bridge of his nose.
He released the now-soaked fabric, letting the man slump to the ground. His face was now nothing but a repulsive bundle of blood and bone. Simon looked down at his knuckles; spots where abrasions had swelled when the manâs bone sliced him, as well as the familiar, chronic stinging of a hairline fracture from his metacarpals down to the heel of his hand.
Rage didnât blind him, nor did it controlâhe was solemnly aware of the carnage caused by his own fist. He was the one propelling each knock, every squeeze of the trigger, every trained maneuver.
The man was somehow still conscious after the beating, but unstirring as he croaked pleas for someone, anyone to find him. Simon tossed the ring into his lap, figuring that would be a sufficient message toward Calâthe crook he hired beaten to a pulp, while still clutching the item he failed to deliver.
It seemed like an eternity, how long Simon had disappeared into the back somewhere. And yet, no suspicious cars, no eyes watching youâno one to be suspicious of. The scene around you remained the same; a bustling gas station.
Each time you looked in the rearview mirror, you could see the crumpled box still laying on the pavement where you left it. The holographic diamond would bounce off the shine of a passing car, sometimes projecting the hue of it onto the mirror, like some sick hypnosis to further remind you of the past you thought was left behind.
When he returned, his shoulders were hunched forward in discomfort as he massaged his right fist. You could spot the stains on the pale skin of his eyes, as well as the ones seeping into the fabric of his mask.
You remained as still as the captive, refusing to look at his bloodied fists. Heâd just tortured a man for you. Simon wasnât going to patronize you, nor was he going to bother to hide the taints of what he did.
This was his job; his disquieting, gruesome jobâone he carried out with regrettable necessity.
Simon went through his pockets, finding the cold soda youâd bought him, holding it against the bruising skin for a few minutes, until the flesh was iced enough to drive the next several hours.
âWeâll need to keep moving. Today.â You were already familiar with the routine; settle somewhere, bloodbath, keep moving. It was second nature by now. His words were just an attempt to cover a pained groan as his throbbing fingers wrapped around the steering wheel.
â
Straight out of a storybook, thatâs how youâd describe the new hiding place.
A spacey cabin somewhere in the mountains, supposedly used by his old Task Force as a hideout at one point. Although, it was less military, and more like an abandoned ski lodge. Rather than the concern of not enough space, it was how much there wasâespecially when surrounded by acres of seclusion.
The wind got colder, more bitter with each passing day. The only saving grace was the books youâd already read over a few times since leaving home. The amusement would fade soon enough, just like it did when you were cooped up in Simonâs apartment for weeks on end. It was only a matter of time before another ambush, or another problem costing one, or both of you your lives. Cat and Mouse was a game that didnât go very long; someone always gets caughtâalways.
Conversations remained cold and simple; a storm rolling in that night, if there was any hot water left, how long the latest ration run would last.
Youâd lost sight of the end goal of this fighting.
The night you patched Simonâs wounds, it began to chip away at you slowly. Next, when he showed you that picture of him, there went another piece of your willingness. Then, the first time you began to put things behind you, it ended in more violenceâand now youâre hereâhiding in the middle of nowhere again, more desolate than any evening with Cal.
Simon is perched on one of the barstools, cleaning his personal arsenal of weapons. Something he seems to do daily now. His right hand is still bandagedâsloppily to put it lightly, since he insisted on doing it himself.
âHowâs the hand?â You asked, not caring too much about the answer, you were just out of options. Talking to the wind only kept you entertained for so long, not to mention the bitterness of it whipping your skin the longer you stood out there.
âFine.â His eyes only flick up once, then they return to the rag in his hands, scrubbing non-existent grime off his pistol. Truth is, heâd rather talk about anything but the hand, or anything to do with that day.
Your eyes carried down his long sleeves to the bandage again, picturing the bruising and gashes underneath, then the face of the man that caused it. âIf that man looked like me,â you began, âwould you have done that?â
His sore fingers came to a stop mid-scrub, something theyâd been begging for him to do all afternoon. âI needed answers, donât treat me like a barbarian.â
His deflection from the point was an answer in itselfâan answer that made your hairs stand.
âDid you get what you needed?â You twisted the knife further, nearly mocking him by now, pressing a palm onto the countertop for support.
Simon could conceal his feelings all he wanted, but his microexpressions played out the story for you. He looked down at his hand again, probably thinking of the meaningless beating heâd given. It did little to nothing to protect you, that was unmistakable.
âI did what I had to do,â he declared, âyou of all people should understand that.â Weeks before, those words mightâve eased the conflict brewing inside you. Today, it only added to it.
âDo you really believe that, Simon?â It was blatantly clear he didnât. He was still stopped in his tracks, attempting to hide the gears turning in his head.
The pistol clattered onto the counter. Heâd stopped his chore entirely. âIf youâve got something to say, you should say it.â His eyes roamed up and down again, searching for any semblance of hesitation showing.
The bullets, the stabbing, the bloodshedâthe violence caused to stop the violence. How did this make any sense? At first, you believed you fit into this twisted puzzle somewhere, that the jagged edges would find their place and somehow the kinks would work themselves out.
âWhat the hell is the point of all this? Are we really any better than him?â You finally replied, looking at the fruitless landscape painted out the window.
âIf you have to ask that question, youâre already better than him.â You were. Not him. This, he was used to, hell, meant for. But for you, there was still expectancy. Thatâs truly what Simon believed.
If it werenât for the guilt swallowing you, you mightâve scoffed at his patronizing.
âIâm not so sure I believe that anymore, Simon.â
TAGLIST: @random-thot-generator @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @illyanam1011 @stunkbiggu @bi-witch-bxtch @warm-milk-with-honey @xheera (if you're not tagged properly, it's not letting me)
#simon riley x reader#simon riley#mw2 fanfic#mw2#call of duty#ghost mw2#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley fluff#simon riley angst
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The Handlerâs Red Carpet Express 3 & 4
The success of my launch party with BAFTA aid is week known so my appearance at the lots of many Hollywood executives soon lead to submissions galore.
Part 1 - 2
Tyler Hoechlin is magnetic walking across the red carpet tonight something has gotten into him that my spirit driving him ever on forward.
He smiles so bright the light glistening on his teeth he blows me the camera a kiss he is waving his hand and demanding so much attention.
No one has ever seen him so happy with the camera men before taking one position like pose one way other than that and the crowd is so exciting.
The lights of the camera crew flashes going on blinding him in a fleeing sea of lights on and off clicking away the sound messing with his head.
Everything begin to slow down to a cruel a heavy weight off his body is unleash in a shocking wave hitting him head on in a life of fire.
Another hot, sexy and beautiful steadily sturdy stud man stops next to him with love, light, power and passion consuming him in a white glow.
He spun a bit feeling the manâs arms on his shoulders letting it spread over the manâs entire width groping it he yanks him closer to his body.
The flashing conquers both wiping away all fears, worries and desires because all they can do is wait for further commands to be given.
The other man is former Titans star known as Brenton Thwaites is in the mood as well as I notice a cock sprang forward in his suit pants.
The active flesh overacting into a myriad of cum explosion his facial expression are trying to hide as his brain cell die out on live tv.
My reporter walks straight forward toward them as the crowd is pumped for this super star studded event and Tyler follows suit ok cumming.
The man guides them to side by the red and gold blinds shoving them in playfully as they join the ranks of my loyal Hollywood pets or slaves which ever you prefer.
Inside there is a long set of stairs to the base of the bottom floor they both descend down the swirling staircase. Meanwhile two Men appearColton Haynes is at the welcoming desk he is getting a champagne glass as he takes a sip he can see silhouette in the shade of yeh red and gold blinds.
Australia star Brenton Thwaites walks on to the scene and soon the world stops making sense of anything and everything in utter lifeâs existence.
âHey Colton over here buddyâŚwhatâs up?â Brenton yells at him.
âHey Brenton! Waiting for the festivities?â Colton asks.
âHell Yeah!â He says prepped for a high five.
âSo do you even know what this is about?â
âTo be honest no clueâ
âMe Either! I am not sure why butâŚâ
âYou felt compacted to comeâ
âExactly â
âSame hereâ
âThings are shaking up â
âYou noticed thenâ
âI kind of like it actually I am embracing itâ
âYou are embracing your darknessâ
âOh God! Why am so hot?l
âMe tooâŚI feel wetâ
âFuckâ
âFfffuuuuccccckkkkâ
âGentlemen! Excuse me ! Follow me please â
Part 3 - 4
The time for fun has come and gone so the real party begins when Tom Ellis gets hit with a spotlight encroaching on him ever so closer.
Stephen Amell is standing right next to him in surprise they both stare at the crowd in a cool style give a shrug with their shoulders in disbelief
âOh How Cute? Two best palsâ
âWho is this?â
âIs this a prankâ
âTrick Or Treatâ
âNeither! Fuck Offâ
âMwahahahahaha â
âSinister laugh you got their palâ
âIâm aware itâs just for you â
âMy two good fellowsâŚdo me a favor andâ
âI said to fuck âŚ.â
âSLEEPâ
âOoooohhhh Mmmyyyy Gooooddddâ
âThe audience gaspsâ
âPerform routine debaucheryâ
âYes Master!â
They start to smile hands on each other in a warm embrace, a jaw dropping kiss, clothes disrobing in to the air, and most importantly a whip transports in to Tomâs hand and he whips his pals ass till it is red.
âThank you and goodnight everyone â
âSay goodnight guys â
âGoodnight friends â
âTake A Bowâ
They take a bow disappearing into the night in a flash of smoke slowly filling the room to the top and memory of this event is erased throughout the world.
âEnjoy your stay Mr. Evansâ the hotel bell hop says to an exhausted Chris.
He fell a sleep unknowingly ceiling his faith at the Circus Hotel chain with a bright smile to his face his expression is silly after the night he had.
A strange looking clown pops out undoing his pants slowly stripping him and the lifting him into his arms and pressing the elevator to the basement.
âMaster Lawrence, Chris is E is fast a sleep for you.â
âPlace him in the elevator shaft â
âPress basement, clear the room of any and all evidence.â
âYes Masterâ
âWe are leaving nowâ
âToo perfect â
The elevator door descending to the cellar of the basement takes its time lights up in all manner of collar stirring Chris awake as he rubs his eyes.
Chris comes to laying on the floor he sat up placing his back to the wall his laborious breathing lessons and he returns to a sight for me.
He starts to widen his mouth into a smile and he cracks up hilariously for the world to see in this video he stands up bouncing wall to wall.
âHahahahahahahaâŚthe fuckâŚwhat is soâŚâ
âSoooooohhhhhaaaaâŚ.i am going insaneâ
âNah! Itâs normal â a voice comes from the speakerâ
âThe elevator is talkingâŚhahahahaâ
âFunnyâ
âItâs right this natural and right â
âChris Hemsworthâ
âWawwhhhaaaatttâ he answers in slumber as his body rises.
âStand by the wallâ
âYesâ
The wall at the touch of his back spins him to the opposite side of the wall into the shaft to join his friend.
âBarrel of laughs you twoâ
âWhy are we laughingâ
âI donât know â
âIt feels good thoughâ
âGive inâ
âLetâs go mad together â
âWe canât stop itâ
âWe canât help itâ
âAaaahhhhâŚooooohhhhhâŚ.aaahhhhhâŚbabeâŚ.mmmmnnnnnâŚ.ffffuuucccckkkkâŚ.yyyyyyyyyeeeeaaaaahhhhhhh.â
The end
#tyler hoechlin#brenton thwaites#colton haynes#robbie amell#stephen amell#tom ellis#chris evans#chris hemsworth#red carpet express
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hi it's me back again (shadys back tell your friends (idek ignore me)) so i just read the new chapter and i think i might die. literally SOBBING
i knew they were probably gonna kiss but i was reallyyy hoping they wouldn't. i actually screamed and had to put my phone down when they did i don't think ill ever recover from this
ik i've said it before but i absolutely LOVE this fic so here r some things from that chapter that made me scream :)
"Barty is obsessed with it. He needs to book a tattoo appointment immediately." literally screaming barty would def be the type to get things like that, he'd have so many tattoos dedicated to evan that evan wouldnt evan know of all of themđ
"Because friends is what Evan wants" no it's not u oblivious idiot
"...that loving Evan Rosier is something he can control. But it isnât. It never has been." i'm fucking screaming i love them smđ
"Oh god, Barty's struck with a sudden deeply upsetting thought: heâs acting like James Potter. Barty physcically recoils" STOP THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO HARDđ
"Evan was the first person who made him feel like he was truly loved. How could he stop himself from falling in love with him?" stop i'm gonna cryđ
"Evan just kissed him. They kissed. They have less than 4 hours left, and then they can never see each other again." oh wow isnt that fun. i'm going to kms/hj
PLEASE TELL ME THERES A HAPPY ENDING I DONT THINK ILL SURVIVE IF THERE ISNTđ
there's like. so many other scenes i loved loved loved (and made me scream ofc) but i'd probably end of pasting almost the entire thing if i added literally everythingđ
hello Eminem! thank you for gracing my tumblr inbox. had no idea you were a Marauders stan tbh but welcome!!
lmao HI WELCOME BACK TY FOR ANOTHER ASK THAT'S MAKING ME BLUSH AND SMILE AND GAH
it's the way i almost didn't have them kiss too. i was fully prepared to just let them hash it out without the tiny little added complication of you know, never being able to see each other again, but where's the fun in that?
you're so right about Barty and his tattoos, like every single one is about Evan whether he knows it or not and Barty will just make shit up to make them connect like 'oh this frog riding a motorcycle? Evan's eyes sometimes have a little bit of frog green in them' or 'yeah my Fruit Loops Toucan Sam tattoo? Evan's fruity and hates cereal'
Evan isn't really giving Barty a ton of clues to be so real, like yes he's being oblivious and literally has now stated he understands Evan doesn't ask for what he wants ever so why would he lie and pretend he wants Barty now? but that's the key point: Barty thinks Evan wants him, not loves him. he's in denial because yes Evan loves him as a friend but how could he ever love him more than that?
James Potter as both Barty and Evan's standard of 'yeah, i've done something wrong here' is SO real and i love that they both just silently use him in their heads without voicing it out loud to each other
i can't confirm or deny a happy ending (bc again i ask, whereee is the fun in that?) but i can say [redacted] >:)
you're a star, light of my life, my favorite tumblr human. thank you so much for taking the time to not only read but hop over to tumblr and rap in my inbox :,) i'm honored, and hope you have the best day!! take care my friend <3
#i got an ask!!!!!!!!#another one#from eminem of all people#eminem raps in my inbox#who's in YOUR inbox??#this fic will never stop being my favorite#i really don't want it to end#fic: tug#rosekiller#evan rosier#barty crouch jr.#tattoos#james potter#marauders
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