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givelove-always · 4 years

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I Love Him Not, I Love Him

A/N: Hi! This is my extremely late entry for @bucky-smiles’ 2K Bollywood Writing Challenge (I’m so sorry for the delay aahhh!)! My prompt was one of my fave songs, Subhanallah from Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani, so that’s what this fic is loosely based on! Also a big thank you to @parkerpetey for taking the time to edit this and leave hilarious comments throughout the Google doc, ilysm for that. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: The three times you didn’t accept that you were crushing on Peter, and the one time you did.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 7.3k words

Warnings: None, just tooth-rotting fluff and reader being frustrating :)

Something everyone talked about, yet nobody really talked about, was how being the new student in the school, especially given that it was your senior year, was ridiculously tough.

You had recently moved from Toronto to Queens, and you absolutely despised it. You’d spent three extremely long years at your old school creating a name for yourself, be it through your strong academic scores or your commitment to numerous extracurriculars. You weren’t exactly popular, but were definitely spoken of quite highly if you were brought up in conversation, regardless of whether it was teachers talking or your fellow students. You were on the perfect path to becoming valedictorian of your class.

… Until you were uprooted and brought here. Sure, your dad really pulled all the strings he could to help you secure a spot at Midtown, especially given that it was senior year - it’s hard enough as is to secure a spot in freshman year, what with it being insanely competitive and for genius students and all, and while your grades were stellar, it would’ve still been close to impossible securing a spot - and you really appreciated it, but that didn’t mean that you still didn’t miss your school and your friends back in Toronto.

It felt like everyone was talking about you - who was the new girl? how did she manage to get a spot three years after everyone else? was she genuinely smart, or was there some other way she got in? - but at the same time, it felt like you were invisible. People wanted to know more about the circumstances surrounding you than know more about you as a person.

With every day that you went to school and came back home after unsuccessful attempts at restarting your social life and making friends, your morale was deflating. As much as you tried to push it aside, the pang in your chest was becoming more and more undeniable when you constantly saw people surrounded by their friends, laughing and chatting, while you sat to the side all by yourself.

Even then, it was all bearable. Just one year here, and then you could go make friends in university, where life would practically be a clean slate - a fresh start for everyone. Who knows, maybe you could even go back to Canada to a university where some of your old high school friends would be attending. You kept telling yourself that everything would work itself out, and if it had to be after a year of loneliness, then so be it.

The only thing that still felt terrible were the daily walks to and from school all alone. Back in Toronto, you and your best friend would always text each other in the morning to try and coordinate the time that you’d leave so that you could walk together, chatting each other’s ears off the entire way there. If you had time in the morning, you’d often even stop by the Tim Hortons on the way and get yourselves a little breakfast.

Here in Queens, there were tons of cute little cafés and little convenience stores and such on your way to school, and while you would still often stop by to pick up a quick snack or drink (or even just to say a quick hello to Mr. Delmar, the kind man who owned the little sandwich shop around the corner, and pet his adorable little cat), it never was the same as going with a friend. That constant loneliness started to change though when one day, you left home and arrived at Mr. Delmar’s shop earlier than usual.

one

It had been a long night with very minimal sleep. You were up working on a Physics assignment until almost five in the morning and you knew that if you slept then, you wouldn’t wake up in time for your morning classes. The extremely prominent bags under your eyes stood as proof of your exhaustion and you had no energy to make yourself breakfast, hence your early arrival at Delmar’s.

You sat at a little table by the window observing the street outside. Most people look at the way others are dressed outside as an indication of the weather. You, on the other hand, liked to think of it as more of a personification of the weather. If the chilly November weather were to be a person, they would definitely be one of those speedy walkers roaming the streets in some fuzzy boots and a trench coat.

As you sipped on your hot chocolate and tried to assign a more rounded personality to the November weather for no reason other than trying to wake yourself up, the sound of the bells chiming as someone entered the store caught your attention.

Peter Parker.

He was that really smart kid in your Physics class - the one subject you were struggling in. You knew him from that one time you guys were paired up for a quick chemistry lab, but you didn’t know him know him. You remembered vividly and appreciated how nice he was the whole time - it was difficult to find that over the last few months. Either that, or you just somehow managed to keep getting paired up with the wrong people.

You realized you were staring at him when you saw him facing and waving in your direction.

That was unusual, nobody ever really seemed to acknowledge you.

You turned to see if there was someone behind you he might have been trying to talk to, but very quickly realized that you were seated in the corner when your eyes were met with nothing but the plain white wall. ‘Stupid move,’ you told yourself. ‘How do you just forget that you’re sitting next to a wall?’

Grimacing a little, you turned back to face him and waved at him. You gave him a small smile, which he very politely returned before he went up to place his order.

‘Great, you can’t even greet a person normally. What is wrong with you Y/n? This is why people aren’t trying to befriend you right now, if-’

“Hey, do you mind if I sit down here?” a slightly timid voice interrupted. Your eyes locked with Peter’s as your head shot up.

“Oh! Um, yeah- I mean, no! I mean, no, I don’t mind, go ahead!” you stuttered, feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks.

Peter let out the softest giggle you have ever heard as he sat down, and if you didn’t have such sharp hearing, you were sure you would have missed it.

“How are you? How are things going?” he asked as he set his sandwich onto the table.

“Oh, well, they’re going,” you smiled and shrugged. “This point in the semester’s always a little crazy, but it’s not the worst. How are you doing?”

“Yeah, it does get hectic around this time,” Peter sympathized, scrunching his nose slightly in an effort to show mutual distaste over the stress. “I’m not too bad, just really tired from working on that physics assignment. How’d you find that?”

“Oh my gosh, don’t ask,” you groaned, rolling your head before laying it smack against the table. “I literally cannot physics, it took me forever to complete it, and I’m still not confident about a solid chunk of it.”

Peter let out a laugh at your reaction, the sound falling like music onto your ears. You discreetly peeked up from your position on the table to look at his undoubtedly glowing face, and the image you were met with was nothing short of beautiful. His eyes were scrunched up and his perfect teeth were on full display, cheeks turning redder by the second. The sunlight falling on his brown curls gave them a softer hue and made them look even softer than you’d already imagined them to be. Nobody had ever looked this angelic.

It was a sight you wouldn’t mind getting used to.

‘Wait, what? Why did you just think that? Y/n you barely even know the guy, stop being creepy!’

You pulled yourself out of the trance and slowly sat back up, giggling lightly to avoid making it obvious that you had just been staring - that would be awkward to explain.

“I’m sure you did just fine,” Peter chuckled. “And if anything, physics isn’t my worst subject, so um, if you want, I’d be more than happy to help.”

“That’s very sweet, thank you Peter, I appreciate that more than you realize,” you smiled, picking up your backpack. “I hate to cut this conversation short, but we need to start heading to school soon if we want to get to class on time.”

“It doesn’t have to be cut short!” Peter said abruptly standing up, catching you off-guard a little. “I-I mean, we could walk together if you’d like? No pressure though, it’s totally cool if you don’t-”

“Of course, I’d love that,” you cut him off with a smile.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “Let’s head out?”

“Yeah, just hold on one quick second,” he said as he quickly rushed over to the front of the shop.

Eyebrows furrowed, you followed him, only for your expression to instantly morph into one of awe as you were met with Peter petting Murph, Mr. Delmar’s cat, before he jogged back to where you were standing, a goofy smile adorning his face. “I’m ready now.”

Saying a quick goodbye to Mr. Delmar, the two of you made your way out. You shivered a little as the icy wind hit you. Peter picked up on the way you tried to discreetly rub your hands together, your outfit not doing nearly enough to cope with the sudden sharpness of the atmosphere, but stayed quiet, not knowing if it was appropriate to say something or not.

“So you’re a cat person, eh?”

“I’d say so, yeah. I’m just as much of a dog person too, though. Murph trumps all other animals though - I’ve been seeing him since Mr. Delmar got him, and he’s so adorable,” Peter gushed. “What about you, a dog person or a cat person?”

“Oh, a hundred percent a dog person, though I would make an exception for Murph, he is pretty cute,” you chuckled. “My best friend back in Canada has the sweetest little puppy named Maple and I practically lived at her house for the sole purpose of playing with him. Her uncle would drop off his two poodles occasionally too when he was travelling, and there was no way to get me out of her house when all three puppies came together.”

“Maple? That’s the most Canadian thing I’ve ever heard, I love that!” Peter physically had to stop for a minute because he was bent over letting out what could only be described as a ‘hearty laugh’.

If it were anyone else, you would most certainly be offended - what was so funny about having a pet with a stereotypical Canadian name? - but Peter exuded an aura of kindness and innocence, and despite only having spoken to him for such a short period of time, you knew his intentions were nothing but pure. Also, you had to admit, it was a little comedic how stereotypical the name was.

“Anyway, speaking of Canada,” he spoke through light chuckles once he’d calmed down a little and you both continued walking, “I don’t mean to be intrusive, and you definitely don’t have to answer if you’d rather not, but um, how come you transferred here senior year? Was it hard to get in? How did that work?”

“No no don’t worry, you’re not being intrusive at all, I don’t mind! Basically…” you started your not-so-entertaining story of how you ended up at Midtown, and no matter how many times you stopped yourself to apologize for how “boring” you were being, Peter assured you that you were anything but.

The long walk to school couldn’t have been long enough, because you were at your locker way too quick for your liking. And judging by the way Peter stayed with you as you grabbed your stuff and offered to walk you to class, he felt the same way.

You found yourself beginning to set your alarm for just a little while earlier than usual that day onwards, and morning walks together became more common as the month went on. Sure, you adored your sleep, but having a potential chance to run into Peter and walk to school with him again? It was worth it.

Despite having only briefly known him, there was a sense of comfort that you felt in his presence. He made you feel like you could share anything with him. Everytime he smiled, forget full-fledged laughed, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay for you.

To top it all off, it didn’t hurt that he was more than easy on the eyes. Those gorgeous eyes and that cute button-nose, not to mention his beautiful brown curls? You wouldn’t mind signing up for that one bit.

‘Y/n, stop. No. He’s just your friend. He’s just being nice, and you’re just happy you have a friend. You do not see him in that way - there is no chance of anything along those lines happening. You just haven’t had much interaction with people and now you’re playing up a friendship because you have nothing better to do. You do not like him.’

You reminded yourself that every time you caught yourself looking at him for even a moment more than what would be acceptable when you conversed. Peter was a great guy, but you guys were just friends, and you intended on keeping your feelings about him that way.

Besides, the reason you were down to lose some sleep wasn’t just being able to walk into school with Peter. You always had a problem with getting to school just in time to catch the bell, and this gave you an excuse to be more timely.

That’s all it was. A friendship and a way to be more punctual. Not anything more than that.

***** two

“Peter,” you clutched your stomach, loud laughter escaping you, “I’m literally going to pee myself!”

“Y/n, stop entertaining him or he won’t stop making those terrible jokes,” Ned groaned.

Peter had introduced you to his best friends Ned and MJ about three days into your friendship, once you’d gotten the remainder of your paperwork after your transfer completed and could finally sit with the rest of your classmates for lunch, and you’d all instantly clicked.

Here you were, two months later. Colourful lights shining all around you, the sound of squeals and laughter from a multitude of people constantly surrounding you, and a game to play every few steps you took - not to mention the numerous prizes waiting to be won.

Ned has suggested that the four of you go down to the arcade nearby to destress after the exhaustion of your end-of-semester exams, and you all had instantly agreed.

As much fun as you were having playing the different games and winning all those tickets with the people who had grown to be your closest friends, what was absolutely making your day was the way in which Peter would just not stop making hilarious puns and jokes.

“You’re just jealous you’re not as cool or as hot as me,” Peter playfully scoffed and made exaggerated hair-flip movements, grabbing your hand as he dragged a giggling you to the next game. “Come on Y/n, they’ll never know what it’s like to be iconic.”

“Woah Peter, what’s gotten into you today?”

“I’m just happy. I’m a happy boy. A happy boy who’s happy about being at this arcade with his wonderful friends because it’s a happy environment,” he glanced at you over his shoulder as he put in the tokens to play basketball.

You chuckled as you reached out to playfully pull his cheeks. “Well, happy boy, let’s win this thing and win it together. In case you didn’t know, my basketball skills are somewhat impeccable.”

“Y/n, you literally can’t walk five steps without tripping, it’s pretty hard to imagine you being any good at a sport that involves a lot of running,” he sassed.

“Ah, well that right there is the thing - I’m incapable of walking. When it comes to running, I’m a whole other ball game. Basketball game, to be more specific,” you spoke slowly, nodding your head wisely to emphasize your wisdom.

Peter let out a wheeze neither of you had expected, and it sent you both into a fit of laughter. When Ned and MJ made their way over to you a few seconds later, all they saw was the two of you clutching your stomachs, faces red and laughter escaping your throats as though you’d just rewatched another one of those ridiculous ‘5-Minute Crafts’ life hacks.

In the midst of the hysteria, as Peter went to slap his knee, he accidentally slammed the Start button on the game. The ever-so-jolly-yet-ominous-sounding countdown of the machine finally pulling you guys out of your bubble.

“Oh my gosh Peter stand up, it’s starting!” you exclaimed through giggles, smacking his arm repeatedly with the back of your hand to get his attention.

“Oof okay okay, let’s do this thing!” Peter rubbed his palms and cracked his neck, getting in a serious stance and grabbing the first basketball that came through the machine before tossing it straight into the hoop.

“My turn, my turn!” You shoved him with your hip playfully to make room for yourself and get a better angle to shoot.

Ned and MJ, who had been standing close behind and observing this all go down, just looked at each other, heads cocked to the side. Claps and cheers when the other one scored and purposeful bumps into each other every single time you switched, given you guys’ speed and surprising accuracy, were all they could see and hear.

“The two idiots… they really don’t see it, do they?” MJ questioned, looking between the both of you, genuinely puzzled.

Ned groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “Dude, I swear I can and will cry right now if they don’t stop playing this ‘you’re just my best friend’ game, I’m so tired of it.”

“Are we gonna say anything to them to make them ‘fess up though?”

“Nah, I kinda wanna watch it play out, as much as it exasperates me,” Ned shrugged.

“Alright Petey boy, you wanna take this jackpot shot or do you want me to?” you looked over at him and asked. “No pressure buddy, but it is an extra five hundred tickets.”

“All yours, m’lady,” he curtly bowed, drawing a laugh from you.

You took your stance, legs slightly spread apart and knees bent just a little, preparing for the big shoot. You grabbed the final basketball, dribbled it on the ground twice, and tossed it, aiming straight for the hoop.

“She shoots,” Peter commentated, watching the ball leave your hands, “and… she scores!”

You let out a squeal and jumped straight into Peter’s arms, giving him the biggest hug you could possibly render. Peter caught you and spun you around, cheering and laughing all the while as the machine spewed out your tickets.

“Okay kids,” MJ called out, pulling you both out of your little moment of euphoria. “Chill for a second and pick up your tickets because I will gladly take them if you don’t want them.”

You chuckled her comment and separated from Peter before quickly walking up to grab the tickets. “Hey, Peter and I worked hard for these, back off,” you playfully pouted, hearing Peter chuckle from beside you.

“Okay okay,” Ned laughed. “MJ and I are done with our tokens, are you guys ready to call it a day and get the prizes too or..?”

“I’m ready to go, Y/n?” Peter asked.

“Yup, I’m done too, let’s go.”

You all made your way over to the corner of the arcade where you could total up your tickets and redeem them for prizes. Despite your constant refusal, Peter not only let you take the entirety of the tickets you both won from the basketball game instead of splitting them, but also gave you all the tickets he’d earned that day so that when combined with yours, you’d be able to get the adorable person-sized teddy bear you were planning on saving up for.

Ned decided to splurge on a number of small prizes, like the classic ginormous plastic sunglasses and little notepads, while MJ got herself a Rubik’s cube and a sticker that said “Caution: Falling Rocks”. Nobody knows why she picked that one in particular - she’d simply shrugged when Peter had asked her about it.

You felt bad that Peter didn’t end up getting anything, but he insisted he was totally cool with it. Something about “not having any more space for obscure things to stuff in my cupboards anyway.”

“Guys, I’m hungry,” you said, bringing the attention to you while you all headed out of the noisy arcade. “Let’s go grab a bite somewhere?”

“Ooh yes, I know this place that’s only like five minutes from here - Ned and I went there like last week. It’s-”

Thud.

Peter never really got to finish that sentence. He was walking backwards, trying to make eye contact with the three of you while relaying his expertise on the restaurants in the area, but the man-child had tripped over his own two feet and landed flat on the ground.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” you all rushed over to him.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he assured you guys as he grabbed Ned’s hand and pulled himself up, dusting off his jeans.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you right then. “Hey Pete, what was that you said earlier about me not being able to walk five steps without tripping?”

“Hey, cut me some slack, okay. MJ’s sticker said ‘falling rocks’ and I was just testing the validity of that statement. Now, with experiential evidence, I can confirm that it is, in fact, false.”

You and Ned burst out laughing at what was probably Peter’s only good joke all afternoon. MJ rolled her eyes, but even she couldn’t stop the smile that took over her face.

You all started to head towards the restaurant Peter suggested, Ned leading the way.

“Hey Y/n?” Peter leaned over.

“Yes?”

“Did you lose an electron? Because you’re positively glowing.”

“Oy smarty-pants, make your own puns, don’t steal them from your t-shirt,” you chuckled, shaking your head. You increased your speed and walked up ahead to where Ned was walking to join him and, hopefully, prevent Peter from the bright red that overtook your features from that one little out-of-nowhere compliment.

You and Ned were joking around about the events of the day and how much fun everything was, and as much as you enjoyed Ned’s company, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander a little.

Why did Peter have such an effect on you? How was he able to make you feel so giddy - all he did was give you one punny compliment and you were blushing? How come this never happens with anybody else?

‘It’s because sometimes you just click with some people more than you do with others. Yeah, that’s what this is. That’s all it is. You just click with him slightly more than you do with the others, and so his compliment is just a little bit more meaningful in that sense,’ you rationalized.

That’s definitely all it was. A strong friendship. Not a crush - definitely not a crush.

***** three

It was the end of senior year, and you were finally in Europe for your long-awaited senior trip that the Midtown teachers had organized for your graduating class.

You’d managed to fall sick on the second day of the trip, but despite the absolute nightmare that all the nausea and headaches had been, it had luckily turned out to only be a 24-hour bug, and you’d been up and running, ready to explore the place by the next morning.

Ned and Peter shared a room while you and MJ shared another, and while the four of you would occasionally hang out in each other’s rooms when you weren’t already out and about, Peter had insisted on practically staying in your room when you were sick so he could take care of you.

You’d pushed them all out of the room to go out and have fun, or even just go sit in the other room so they wouldn’t accidentally contract whatever it was you had.

Peter, though, just would not listen - he kept taking MJ’s keycard and coming in to check up on you, making sure you were hydrated and had everything you needed. You’d woken up the morning after to a number of texts from Peter, scattered at different times throughout the night, telling you that he hoped you were feeling better and reminding you that you could call him if you needed anything, no matter how late or early it was.

You’d made it known to him the next time you saw him how much you appreciated him doing that, but also how you wished he’d have slept without worrying about you so much.

He’d only smiled in response.

Once you’d gotten better - which luckily was by the next afternoon - the four of you would spend time in one hotel room all evening. Watching movies together, having popcorn fights, or just talking, laughing and reminiscing about the year that had flown right by you.

During the day, you would all go out and explore whatever city you were in, making sure to cover all the general tourist attractions and getting tons and tons of pictures with and of each other. MJ had become your unspoken designated photographer, capturing breathtaking candids of you all whenever she got the chance.

Mr. Harrington had mandated that anybody who went out to explore or do something that wasn’t on the itinerary report back to the hotel by sunset so he could keep track of everyone, so you would always make it a point to be in your rooms by then.

Most people stayed out anyway, but not the four of you - you didn’t want to worry the poor man. He worked hard all year too, and he was kind enough to supervise this trip - the least you could all do was ensure that you weren’t burdening him with any added stress.

Occasionally, you would end up getting back to the hotel earlier than others in your group. Sometimes, MJ would want to wander by herself, and Ned would try to approach and converse with Betty, who he found really cute.

Times like that, you and Peter would be the only ones in your respective rooms. The very first time that happened, you both very quickly realized that if you were in that situation, boredom would usually follow very soon.

So the next time onwards, even if none of the others were there, you and Peter would just hang out together in one of your rooms. It didn’t really matter what you were doing - just being in each other’s presence made things fun.

It was guaranteed, though, that obscure things would always happen when it was just the two of you left unsupervised. One time, Ned walked into his and Peter’s shared room only to find you and Peter in the midst of a very soulful rendition of A Whole New World from Aladdin - complete with exaggerated dance moves and hairbrush-microphones. Another time, MJ returned from her walk to a nearby park to you and Peter indulged in a heated discussion about whether pop tarts should be considered a sandwich or ravioli.

The four of you would often stay up until odd hours talking about anything and everything. The later it got, the deeper your topics of conversation would get. They would go from sharing nostalgic memories from your childhoods to passionate conversations about how many pets one could get before they’d be considered too many.

One of those days, when you had a one hundred percent free day because the event on your itinerary got cancelled, MJ and Peter decided they wanted to go visit a museum. Ned brought up that he wanted to go shopping around the city instead, and since you were planning the same, the two of you went out together.

You and Ned decided to hop onto one of those red double-decker buses, because if you’re a tourist in London and don’t get on one of those buses even once, are you really a tourist in London? Since neither of you had anything specific you wanted to shop for or any specific place in mind, you decided to take a random bus and get off wherever you felt would be worth it.

After about fifteen minutes of looking around at the hustling streets, you finally passed through an area that seemed to be filled with a variety of stores, making it the perfect place for some obscure shopping.

You both walked around, entering random stores whenever something in the display caught your eyes and buying random articles of clothing. At one point, you found a really cool thrift store and decided to style each other - the results being surprisingly more wonderful than either of you had expected. You both did an impromptu ramp walk for each other, filling the trial rooms with the sounds of laughter and giggles.

As the evening started to set in and the gorgeous colours started to take over the blue sky, you decided that you should start heading back to the hotel soon. It wasn’t too far from where you were though, considering the fact that a quick fifteen-minute ride would get you back, so you two did have time to stop by one or two more stores quickly if you wanted to.

As you strolled around, looking at the displays to see if there was something you might like, a pretty off-white floral sundress caught your attention. “Ned, can we go in here? I want to try this dress on!” you said as you tapped him excitedly on his shoulder.

He agreed, and as soon as you found the dress and tried it on, you absolutely fell in love with it. It was just the right length for your preference, and fit your body just right. In fact, it would even go perfectly with the adorable cross-body bag you’d picked up earlier in the day. You didn’t have to think twice before heading to the cash register to buy it and officially make it yours.

“Today burned a hole in my pockets, but it was so much fun Y/n, thanks for coming with me,” Ned said as you both got seated on the bus.

“Hey, of course! I had so much fun too! It was so refreshing to, thank you for letting me try on eight thousand different things,” you grinned.

The two of you continued conversing and joking around as the bus slowed down at a stop to let passengers on and off.

“Man, as great as museums are, nothing beats the joy one gets from mindlessly shopping - those two definitely missed out on some hilarious jokes and the best fashion show of the century,” you chuckled, making a reference to your antics back at the thrift store.

Ned laughed, shaking his head.

You relaxed in your seats, just letting the feeling of the wind flowing through your hair encompass you. The slight coolness of the evening breeze was euphoric yet also grounding in a sense, and you wanted to let it consume you for as long as possible.

“Y/n, can I ask you a question?” Ned softly broke the silence.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You like him, don’t you?” he smirked.

You turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Like who?”

“Come on, don’t act so oblivious,” Ned laughed. “Peter - you like him, right?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s one of my best friends, so I definitely do like him?” You were genuinely confused at this point.

“No Y/n, I mean like like. Like as in more than a friend,” he clarified.

You froze for a split second and the heat rushed quickly to your face for reasons unknown to you. Almost too quickly, you responded, “What? No! Why would you think that?”

Ned rubbed his face, groaning. “Y/n, why are you both so ridiculously oblivious?” He had no clue how both you and Peter, two people so hopelessly crushing on each other, couldn’t see it.

“Wait, what do you mean?” you questioned.

Ned couldn’t stop the knowing smirk that overtook his features at the quizzical look on your face. He wanted to see two of his best friends happy together, but he needed you both to figure out your feelings for each other because it would be unfair of him and MJ to try and get you both together before that happened.

In this moment though, the utter cluelessness in your eyes was absolutely comedic to him.

“Oh, would you look at that, it’s our stop!” he quickly picked up his bags and walked off the bus, leaving a very perplexed you to follow him.

You pestered him to explain what he meant by that the entire way up to your respective rooms, but he wouldn’t do anything but grin. Your split-second panic and silence, combined with the redness of your cheeks as soon as he’d asked you about Peter was confirmation enough for him. He’d lit the spark, the questioning, inside of you, and that was all he felt was appropriate for now. Now, you needed to let it grow into a full flame and come to terms with your feelings.

“Bye Y/n! I’ll see you in a little bit!” he waved at you as he quickly slipped behind his door.

You groaned, stomping back to your room. You tossed your bags to the side and flopped right onto the bed.

‘Why was Ned asking me that? What did he mean by saying Peter and I are ‘oblivious??’ And why did I panic? Is there a chance that I- No, don’t finish that thought. Y/n, Peter’s just your best friend - feelings involved make things messy. You know what though? You don’t have to worry about that, it’s fine, because you don’t have feelings for him anyway. It’s all good. You’re just best friends, it’s nothing more than that, for sure.’

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, and rationalizing whatever supposed “feelings” you had for Peter until you heard MJ swipe her keycard. In walked both Peter and MJ, and you watched as his eyes lit up as soon as he saw you.

You felt your lips curve upwards into a smile, and before you could even realize that your body was moving, you had both engulfed each other in a massive hug.

That was normal though, right? You would hug MJ right after that too - you always hugged your friends. That didn’t mean anything.

Ned was probably just fooling around. Yeah, that’s probably what it was. One of his extended pranks. That explanation made sense.

Either way, you know what your feelings for Peter are: platonic. Absolutely, positively not anything other than that.

***** one

The day you’d been dreading was finally here: the end of your senior trip.

You were in your hotel room, zipping up your suitcase and making sure you had packed all of your belongings.

“I guess this is it, huh?” you squeaked out.

Hotel rooms had become your home for the last almost two months. They were where you and three of the closest people in your life right now spent so much time together, laughing, crying, just enjoying each other’s presence. Now, you were being made to say goodbye to that, and it was too soon for your liking.

“It is, yeah,” MJ gave you a small smile. “Don’t be upset about it though, we’ll all still be together and go out all the time once we’re back.”

“I know, I just…” you sighed. “I just liked this whole ‘no-other-responsibilities-to-tend-to’ version of going out. Time really does fly when you’re having fun.”

MJ placed the last of her clothes in her suitcase and zipped it up. “Well, at least it was fun while it lasted, right?”

You nodded. It was fun while it lasted. Was it insanely tiring walking around every single day because there was always so much to do? One hundred percent. Was your sleep schedule messed up from staying up late hanging out with your friends and waking up early to go grab breakfast and get ready for the day? More than ever before. Would you trade the experience for anything else in the world? Absolutely not.

You did one final sweep of the room to make sure you’d grabbed everything you’d brought in. “Ready to go?” you asked as you placed your suitcase upright on the ground.

“Yup, let’s head downstairs before the bus leaves,” MJ chuckled, shaking her head. “I am so ready to sleep in my own bed again.”

You laughed and grabbed your keycards. MJ placed the remote back on the TV stand and wheeled her luggage out the door and you followed suit, pulling the door shut behind you. Once you double-checked that the door had been locked properly, the two of you headed down to the lobby, where you were supposed to meet the rest of your classmates.

Dropping the keycards off at the front desk, you made your way over to where you could see most of your cohort already gathered.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” Mr. Harrington checked your names off his list. “The only ones left now are Flash and Brad. They’d better come down soon, wouldn’t want to- ah! There they are!” he marched over to where the two boys were.

“Wow, I don’t think I have ever seen him look that relieved. Is it just me or did he get taller?” you heard a voice approaching you.

Peter.

There he was, walking towards you, wearing that blue checkered shirt that looked oh-so-good on him. Something about him today hit you differently. You couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it was, but it was safe to say that you felt your heart skip a beat at how amazing he looked.

“As much as I hate to say it, I agree with you,” MJ joked. “Crazy what lifting some weight off your shoulders can do for you.”

“Crazy how quickly this whole trip is already over,” Ned spoke. “I don’t know if I’m ready to go home yet.”

“Oh hush, just last night you were on the phone telling Betty that you couldn’t wait to take her to the movies once we’re all back in Queens,” Peter quipped, effectively making Ned blush and all of you laugh.

The aura of the lobby was very mixed. On one hand, the atmosphere felt lively as people chatted with their friends about all the fun times they had over the last few weeks, about the constant highs they all felt. On the other hand, there was a certain longing in most people’s eyes, a willingness to hold on to this feeling for just a little longer.

It was a very bittersweet vibe, and very understandably so.

“Alright guys, um- hey, can I get your attention for just a minute please?” Mr. Harrington squeaked. He raised his arms up to try and grab everyone’s attention, and to his own surprise, it worked.

“So, basically, I just wanted to say thank you to every single one of you for attending this trip, and I hope that it was a great experience for you all. Our bus should be here shortly, but before we go, I was hoping to get one quick picture with the entire group, if that’s okay?” After confirming that nobody had an issue with it, he handed his camera over to one of the staff members from the reception desk, who quickly snapped a wonderful picture of you all.

He thanked her, and then went outside to check for the bus.

“Looks like there’s still some more time before we leave,” you stated, peeking out through the glass windows and noticing the absence of a bus.

“Judging by the way Mr. Harrington’s seeming frustrated, I’d say you’re probably right,” Peter chuckled. “Hey, let’s get some pictures of our own in the meantime, I still have some film left on my camera!”

You, Ned and MJ agreed, and Peter pulled out his camera from his carry-bag. You all took turns posing with each other, starting off with simple smiles, but progressively getting goofier and sillier until you’ve hit the point where you were just standing in the middle of the lobby recreating iconic memes, sending you all into fits of laughter.

“Okay, okay, enough of this,” Peter giggles, still coming down from moments ago when he was guffawing at your attempt to recreate that one young Cardi B picture. “Let’s get some group shots now.”

MJ quickly asked Yasmin, another one of your classmates, if she’d be okay with getting a few shots of them and explained to her how to work the camera.

You went to grab a sip of water and stood off to the side, letting the three have their moment. They’d been there for each other for four years, and while you were all close now, you’d only come into the picture recently. You wanted to let the squad - the original squad - get some pictures too, you’d been in enough with them already, it was okay.

Ned said something which you couldn’t hear, but it drew out undoubtedly heartfelt laughs from the other two. Eyes scrunched and faces radiating with nothing but joy, Yasmin saw this as a perfect moment to capture, and you saw her take what you were sure would have turned out to be an amazing candid.

Yasmin went to hand the camera back to MJ, but Peter quickly stopped her.

“Hold on one second please, would it be okay if you got just one last picture? With the whole group?”

She nodded, stepping back.

“Y/n! Why are you off to the side?” Peter rushed over to you, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Come on, we can’t take a full group photo without you in it!”

In that very moment, as Peter grabbed your hand and gently pulled you to where the rest of the group was standing, something in your mind clicked. You laughed as Peter abruptly stopped and you bumped into him, hearing the click of the camera go off. None of it seemed to matter though. All you could see was Peter smiling back down at you, the crinkles by his eyes more defined than ever, but also surprisingly more beautiful than ever.

You could sense the three people around you continuing to throw up more poses quickly, Yasmin capturing them, but the entire while, your eyes wouldn’t leave Peter’s grinning face, your mind slowly stopped registering anything other than the feeling of Peter’s arms around your shoulders. The pure warmth he radiated pulled you in further, and everything around you except his perfect smile blurred.

One thing became very clear in that moment of complete encapsulation though, despite it being a completely foreign feeling to you, as the same words played in your head, over and over.

‘Holy crap, I think I’m in love with my best friend.’

If only you knew, those were the exact same words racing through Peter’s mind.

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heresyourramen · 4 years

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First Date : Jungkook Imagine

A fluffy first date imagine about Y/N and Jeon Jungkook from BTS.

I hope it’s okay, and you enjoy it!

It was a blind date.

Another one.

In fact you had pretty much given up hope on finding love as a college graduate after the first three dates but your roommate had insisted this boy wouldn’t be half as trash as the previous ones.

You didn’t really know if you could trust her instincts any more, they were getting shady. So far all three of the guys had been far misses. Still only dressed in your towel you flopped onto your unmade bed.

“Ow, shit!” You look down to see that you had flopped right onto your eyelash curler of all things and let out a frustrated sigh.

What do you even wear to an Arcade?

The last time you visited one you were 13, who decides to go there at the age of 23? If that wasn’t enough, it was Autumn and winter was closing in fast, cancelling out all those cute little summer dresses and skirts you preferred wearing on first dates.

After giving up on your less than cold weather appropriate closet, you decide to slip on your usual pair of ripped skinny jeans and your old university sweater. You did light make up and left your hair loose. Slipping on your air forces and a big puffy jacket you leave the warmth of your small apartment and make your way to the designated date spot.

He’d told you to meet him by the tree decorated with fairy lights outside the arcade but the guy standing there couldn’t possibly be your date. You couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief and instant regret at your half-assed outfit. You even contemplated going back to your apartment for a change but the 20 minute trip would be less than appropriate if you wanted a chance at a second date.

His long dark hair was wavy and parted in the middle, unveiling his big doe like eyes as they wandered around the crowd curiously and slightly covering his ears where some earrings dangled. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his ripped black skinny jeans and awkwardly shuffling his black boots from side to side as he tried to adjust to the cold, his grey sweater obviously not as cold breeze resistant as it looked. Quickly fixing your hair, you made your way up to where he stood. Looking up with a shy smile you decided to make your presence known.

“Hi, are you Jeon Jungkook?” his big eyes settled on you and slightly widened as if he was surprised before he held his hand out and gave you a quick nod.

“Y/N?” he said your name as if it was a question and you nodded confirming your identity.

“Want to go inside? It’s pretty cold outside.” You suggested more for his part than your own.

“Oh thank God, it’s freezing.” He said with an awkward grin before taking long strides towards the entrance before pausing and looking back at you who struggled to keep up with your short legs, he slowed down his pace to match it with yours.

Pushing open the arcades doors you noticed the dark interior was filled with thousands of little flickering neon lights, each game with it’s own unique colour scheme. A wave of nostalgia hit you as you noticed a group of kids competing against one another on one of those dancing games that your uncoordinated self could never even consider attempting. A poppy tune played somewhere faintly but the sounds of the loud games were making it difficult to hear which song it was exactly.

“Uh do you want me to take your jacket? We have to get some tickets, I can give it to them to keep while we’re busy.” He explained and pointed at the booth stuck in a corner of the massive space. You slip off your jacket and hand it to him.

“Go look around and pick a game so long, I’ll be back in a second.” He gave you a friendly smile before making his way to the booth, your coat tucked under his arm. Awkwardly you made your way through the rows of different games, your two sizes to big sweaters sleeves covering your hands. You must have looked like a lost child in a store because when Jungkook made it back to you he seemed concerned. “Are you okay? You look like someone who’s walked into a physics lecture by mistake”

“Uh yeah, I just, I can’t remember the last time I was in an arcade but I blame that on me blocking all my memories of being a teenager.” He chuckled softly before making his way over to a basketball game.

“Let’s start off simple then?” He gave you a soft smile before the loud music and announcer's voice signaled the start of the game. You were sure he had your best interest at heart and genuinely thought it might be easy but your heart stopped at the thought of any target. Not only had your small body proven itself unable to walk on flat surfaces without tripping it had also made a point that not even running was a safe sport for you to do. He handed you the ball and you made an effort to hide your reluctance as you took it.

As you expected you had widely over estimated the target, hitting the board above the net with enough force to have the ball come flying right back towards you. Had your date not graciously tugged you out of the way, the date would probably have ended 2 minutes in with you on your way to the hospital with a bloody nose.

You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings, especially how your back was pressed up against the body behind you. His hands gripped your arms and you noticed the faint tattoos on his right hand as you looked down at it before slowly sliding out of his grasp.

“Let’s avoid any games that require any athletic ability if possible?” You suggested as you walked over to collect the ball handing it back to him sheepishly. You saw the smile on his face and you watched as his nose scrunched as he started to laugh. You could feel your ears and cheeks go a bright red in embarrassment but you couldn’t help but think his laugh wasn’t degrading you like guys often did when you said something strange, and as the light chuckles continued to fill the air you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. Both of you standing in front of a game that’s timer had run out, giggling like 6 year old’s at each other.

“You’re a lot stronger than you look.” He said as he tried to compose himself, you wiped away some tears that had started in the corner of your eyes from all the laughing.

“I agree no more sporty games, you might break the strength measuring games.” He said with a grin and a small wink as you both made your way over to some of the older looking games, luckily they only required you pressing buttons.

For the next hour your childish competitiveness ran free as the two of you actively tried to beat the other in whatever game you found yourself playing. He ended up persuading you to play one of the newer looking games, hesitantly you picked up the plastic gun and stood in front of the screen. As soon as the game started you were bombarded with the sounds of gunshots and your confusion didn’t even last 30 seconds before your character had died. The game loudly announced your failure and you felt your ears go red with frustration and embarrassment.

“You haven’t played a game like this before right?” Jungkook said, putting down his own plastic gun and giving you a small smile, you shook your head ‘no’. “I was wondering why you suddenly started letting me win at something.” that was a lie, you had narrowly beaten him at maybe three of the games but you appreciated his attempt at making you feel better.

“Here, let me help you.” He put in another ticket and selected single player mode and moved to stand behind you. For the second time that day you were very aware of how much smaller you were than him, Your back was pressed against his hard chest and you felt his arms wrap around your body as he placed his hands over your own as you both held the plastic gun. The loud boom of the game was blocked out as your senses suddenly focused on how good he smelled and how gently his hands held yours, everytime his hands moved slightly to aim you felt tingles on your finger tips. It didn’t take too long until the character on the screen was overwhelmed and the game ended. You felt him step away, his hands no longer holding yours as he let go, he looked down at you with a small smile and you felt yourself blushing again but this time not because of the game.

“That was our last ticket and it’s pretty late, lets get your jacket and go get some food.” He suggested and you followed after him to the front desk. He helped you slip on your jacket and you guys went outside only to be hit with a bone chilling breeze. You saw him visibly shiver at the cold.

“Um, do you want to use this instead?” You started taking off your coat but he stopped you.

“No! It’s okay, look there’s a food cart!” he took your hand and started making your way over to where the warm food was steaming, he ordered and paid before you could open your wallet to pay your half, not once letting go of your hand. You felt bad as he stood awkwardly shuffling because of the cold so you made a daring decision. You gently guided the hand he held into one of the big pockets of your coat, he turned his head from where he was watching the elderly lady assemble your meals and grinned as he gave your small hand a squeeze. You guys got your food and you suggested heading to your apartment to eat it there, the walk was short but he held your hand in your pocket all the way until you had to use it to unlock the door. You watched as he nearly sprinted into the warm interior and you couldn't help but smile at the little waddle he did.

You took out bowls and cutlery for your food and put on the kettle to make you both some tea. When you walked back into your tiny living room, you saw your dates big body had somehow managed to squish himself in the space between the coffee table and the couch, you placed everything down and quickly selected a random movie before you both started to eat your food when you were both finished he helped you carry everything back to the kitchen.

After the both of you settled on the old couch under a variety of blankets as you continued to watch the movie, it wasn't long until you felt your eyes slowly falling shut, job hunting had tired you out and the excitement of the day seems to have drained you.

Jungkook stiffened when he felt your head suddenly rest on your shoulder but relaxed when he saw your closed eyes and felt your slow breaths. The excitement of the day had worn both of you out and he couldn’t help but feel relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was tired. He gently brushed the hair out of your face before adjusting himself that you both were comfortable, your head rested on his chest as your arms automatically draped around his waist in your sleep, he rubbed soft circles on your back before finally dozing off himself.

He woke up, his nose being tempted by the familiar smell of bacon and fried eggs, his eyes wandered to where you stood in your clothes from the day before making breakfast softly humming a tune. He looked down to see himself covered by a few million blankets before he rubbed his eyes, when he opened them again he saw you standing there with two plates and a friendly smile.

“Good morning!” you said cheerfully and put down the plate on the coffee table. “Morning Y/N, I didn’t realise date two would be so soon.” Jungkook said with a sleepy smile before happily digging into the delicious breakfast.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #junkookie #jungkook imagine #first date #imagines #fluff #meet cute #park jimin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

Caught in a Blizzard - Part 1

Summary: Luna is going to perform at the Graham Norton show, but little did she know that Chris Evans is going to be a guest as well.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Luna Hwang (Asian OFC)

Warnings: Mentions about sex and some alcohol

Wordcount: 4.5k

A/N: if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know! Also, I love to read your guys’ thoughts and feedback xx

Masterlist // Introduction // Part 2

Tonight I’m the musical guest on the Graham Norton show and I was too lazy to check who were going to be the other guests. I mean, I was severely jet lagged and a bit hungover, because they were serving some real good wine on the airplane and I might have finished an entire bottle and then some more sips from another bottle.

Normally my new agent Gia would be with me when I go to these types of things, to make sure everything is handled correctly and I’m up to date to the most important things, but since she has come down with a flu, just like her two youngest kids, she obviously stayed in New York. She told me I would be doing fine, however I wished that she was with me now, because she could’ve told me that finishing that entire bottle of wine myself wasn’t exactly a good idea (I have no self control, that’s obvious) and mentally prepare me for the other guests.

Now I have exactly five minutes to prepare myself, because I have wasted at least thirty with hyperventilating.

Because of the tough weather, Viola Davis couldn’t be here unfortunately, which is a shame, because she herself is a whole new level of awesome. But on the couch sits the queen herself Reese Witherspoon and THE handsome ass Chris Evans is there as well!

I mean, I obviously have an unhealthy crush on him, because who wouldn’t? He is handsome, he is funny and he is exactly the type of man that I’d like to drag in my bed for some mature activities. Seeing him sitting right there, makes my heart do all sorts of different things. And I realize that when I’m going to join them, I have to sit next to him. I have to sit next to the man who thought that wearing grey plaid pants and a fitted sweater would be appropriate.

Normally I would’ve known who the guests are on the shows that I perform at when I was still with my group Brave Elegance, because we had agents and a few members that actually listened to them when stuff like this was being told. I relied on them mostly, because I was making sure I could perfect my performance, by practicing the dance moves and hum out my rap. Now I’m all by myself and the first time Gia is supposed to be with me, she is sick.

And now I have to eat up the consequences of my own stupid choices.

I wish there was a guide available, that could help me out with one of the biggest problems I have ever encountered in my life: how to NOT embarrass yourself in front of the Chris Evans?

‘So, I have a question,’ Graham Norton starts. ‘Our musical guest Luna is backstage and—’ The audience erupts into a loud applause and whistles. ‘Goodness me, I wasn’t even finished yet!’

The crowd starts to laugh and from the looks of it, Reese Witherspoon and Chris Evans are amused. I take another sip of my water, because my throat feels painfully dry.

‘What I was going to ask is if you two had heard from her,’ Graham continues.

‘I do, actually,’ Reese says. ‘My daughter was a huge fan of hers back when she was in Brave Elegance. I went to three concerts of them actually.’

‘Oh, so you know quite a bit about her?’ Graham asks.

Reese nods. ‘Yes, I do. Back when she was in the band, my daughter was such a big fan of hers. Even had posters of her in her room. I do know that she is really killing the game with her solo projects.’

‘She totally is,’ Chris Evans says. ‘I downloaded her album the second it came out. I loved it.’

I think I forget how to breath. He downloaded my album? Holy crap, this isn’t helping with my nerves.

‘Really?’ Graham asks. ‘I never thought you were the type of guy that would listen to her songs, if I’m being honest.’

‘Well, my niece was a Fairy once, so I knew about the existence of them and heard some songs. But I only started to get really invested in their music during their Golden Globe performance, little did I know that that was going to be one of their last performances. A shame really, I was ready to become a Fairy.’

The Chris Evans Captain America Chris Evans was ready to become part of the fanbase? Oh shit, is this how it feels to have an out of body experience? How am I supposed to act normal after this?’

‘Really?’ Graham asks with a smile. ‘Well lucky you then that she is going to perform here.’

A woman ushers me with her and I follow her through the tiny halls. It’s nearly time for me to get on stage, but how am I going to deal with this? The sound is pretty loud, so I continue to hear what is being said.

‘She has something,’ Reese continues. ‘Like she forces you to watch her. My daughter once showed me a compilation of her on the X-Factor and I was genuinely impressed. She was only seventeen and knew exactly how to pull the audience in. Amazing.’

‘Please, everybody, please give it up for the one and only Luna!’

The audience start to clap and whistle, causing me to smile. I always love it when I hear the whistles and the screams of fans. Graham holds out his hand and I kindly take it, but all of the sudden I feel a little self-conscious about my tight red dress and my over knee boots, but I can’t change now. I must hold my breath the entire time I’m sitting my ass on that couch.

I shake hands with Reese Witherspoon, who compliments me on my outfit and tells me I’m so pretty. Why is this woman such a nice lady?

I quickly wipe my palm when I have to shake Chris Evans’ hand. When I’m with my producers or even back when I was still with the girls from Brave Elegance, I’d tell them how Chris Evans literally bite me wherever he wants, choke me during sex and that every hole I have is right there for him to use.

Now I’m standing in front of him and those things have turned into nothing but idle talk.

I somehow manage to extend my hand without shaking like an idiot an he holds mine in his large one. Oh my, those fingers… Imagine them insi— No, Luna, don’t even go there. You are in public!

‘It’s so nice to meet you, Luna,’ he says with a charming smile and me knees nearly give out. His eyes are glued on me and oh my, he is even more handsome from up close.

‘Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too.’ Okay, good, I managed to say seven words to him, in an acceptable order. Progress!

I sit on the left end of the couch, next to Chris Evans and I sure hope the microphone doesn’t pick up on my heartbeat, since I can feel it beating with a force that it actually hurts me.

‘Luna, I’m so happy that you’re here,’ Graham says.

‘Thank you for having me.’

‘Are you excited?’

I nod. ‘This is my first solo interview on television, so I’m a bit nervous, but other than that, I’m very excited. I just hope that I won’t say anything stupid.’

‘You probably won’t,’ Graham says and I don’t feel necessarily assured. ‘I have to say, Luna, you are such an interesting woman.’

‘Is that good or bad?’ I ask.

‘Well, I mean,’ he says, looking at his cards. ‘At the young age of seventeen, you participate in the X-Factor, didn’t win, but did gain four friends. Is it hard to now do your own stuff?’

I think well about this question. Our disbandment was quite messy, though the public doesn’t know about that. The reason we split up was because of the amounts of jealousy between the members and… Me actually. I miss my members every single day and I wish that they were here with me. But I have to realize, that the disbandment was all my fault and if I was just a team player back then, I would still have them around me.

‘It’s hard to be by myself, sometimes. I mean, I have dancers with me, but… It’s different. It can’t be compared to being with four amazingly talented girls with the same dream. So yeah, it’s hard, because I have to figure out how I’m going to do it alone. We were together for six years non stop, so it’s kinda weird.’

‘Your disbandment came as a huge surprise. Did you guys knew that you were going to disband soon?’

‘Well, 2018 was really a rollercoaster of a years and the after shocks of that, went with us to 2019. We were all kind of struggling with our psychical and mental health. I won’t really go into details for the rest of the girls, but I was hospitalized for two months, because I totally overworked myself. Being in a group is hard work and our record label was really putting a lot of pressure on us and after six years, it can be hard to keep up. So, our last two performances… We didn’t really say that it were the last, but deep down we all pretty much knew, you know?’

‘Right… You are the only one that is continuing in the music industry. How come?’

‘Well,’ I say, ‘it’s the only thing I’m good at and I love to do it. I love interacting with fans, being on stage. My new record label is really laid back and they continue to say that we are going at my pace, that my health is the most important and I shouldn’t overwork myself ever, so that really is comforting and I know it’s for the best.’

Graham nods and asks: ‘Did you know that Chris Evans was ready to become a Fairy?’

I shake my head. ‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Tell us, Chris, what was your favorite song and maybe Luna can sing a bit for you.’

I’m going to fucking vomit. Is this truly happening? I bet Gia is watching this right now (or tomorrow, since she is still sick) and she is going to laugh her ass off, just like all the producers and God who knows. I just know.

I carefully look to the side and see Chris Evans smirking. Seeing it in gifs is such an experience, but seeing it in real life… Goodness me.

‘I truly loved ‘You Know, He Did It Too’, especially because it showed how society is really fucked up. It takes two people, but of course only the woman in this story gets the blame, which is not fair.’

‘I’m not going to sing that,’ I say to Graham. ‘Or rap my part.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because…’ I can’t even think of a very good reason to not do it.

‘Come on,’ he coaxes me. ‘When can you say that you rapped in front of Chris Evans? Captain America!’

I sigh, knowing I can’t get out of this.

Remember Bieber, had that fever?

You tiny man, you fucked it up

You should come clean

No need to fake

Your fiancé leave you no matter what

So be a man, suck it up

Take the blame, she ain’t alone.

You little fucker, just spit it out

We do this over and over

Till we fucked up your entire career

‘Damn!’ Graham exclaims. ‘We all watched the news obviously and knew what happened, but you really didn’t hold back with the rap.’

‘Well, funny story,’ I say, ‘originally we wanted the song to be a diss track to society, for only blaming the girl. But then he released a statement, saying that he had nothing to do with it, that she was seducing him and basically that it wasn’t his fault. So that’s when I got mad and changed the entire rap.’

‘Dragging him,’ Chris Evans adds.

I chuckle, feeling all too happy that I can agree with Chris Evans on this. ‘Yeah, dragging him.’

‘I love this,’ Graham says. ‘So, you were just out of high school when you auditioned for X-Factor.’

‘Right,’ I say.

‘You wrote all your raps by yourself. Did you write songs back then?’

I nod. ‘They weren’t any good. I started with really bad poetry and that turned into cringy songs, that were trying to be deep, but it high school cringe. Thanks to the mentors on the X-Factor I was taught about flow and beat and all that good stuff. So I’m really grateful for that.’

Reese says: ‘What always surprised me, was how the raps you wrote matched the songs you girls were performing. But you did that all by yourself, with some help of the mentors?’

I nod. ‘You know, our time being on the X-Factor was hard, but it was so worth it. I feel like my song writing skills have improved over time and I do hope that the album showed my best writing skills and rap skills and sing and dance.’

‘You sure did,’ Graham says. ‘Can you tell us a little about who one of your songs is inspired on?’

I shake my head. ‘My songs aren’t necessarily inspired by anyone or any event really.’ Then I realize that I’m lying. ‘Wait, that is not true. One of my songs was sort of inspired on someone.’

‘I want the details,’ Graham says without skipping a beat, ‘and I want them now. Spill.’

‘Well, Ditch The Boys, Use Your Toys is inspired on someone I had sex with, back in the X-Factor days. We were already going to the next round as Brave Elegance. I had heard some rumors that he was pretty great in bed, causing me to think that if I ever had sex with him, it was going to be mind-blowing, so I had pretty high expectations.’

Graham nods, making it obvious he is really interested in hearing the rest of the story. I look at Reese and Chris, who have amused smiles on their faces.

‘I think we were two minutes into the foreplay, when he… You know… Can I say this on television?’

The host shrugs. ‘I have no idea and I honestly don’t care. I want to know how this story ends, though I might have an idea.’

I chuckle. ‘Well, he penetrates me and I’m like, oh, okay, he really wants to have sex with me. Obviously I was a bit flattered, but I think it took less than thirty seconds before he came already and made really loud and weird noises. And I was confused, because for starters, he came real quick, but I also didn’t understand why so many girls were raving about him. Then, this guy looks me right in the eye and has the audacity to ask me if I enjoyed it as much as he did.’ My eyes widen, while I hold out my hands, as the audience starts to laugh.

‘I really want to know what you said to that,’ Chris Evans says, who seems to enjoy my story a lot.

‘So I stared at him,’ I continue my story. ‘And I said: “Well, if we were trying to be in the Guinness book of World Records for fastest male ejaculation during sexual intercourse, sure, but I wasn’t aware that we were going for a world record”.’

Graham starts to laugh, Reese places her hands on her face to hide her visible gasp and Chris Evans places his hand on his chest while he laughs, a trait that I love with all my heart.

‘But on top of that,’ I go on, ‘he got mad and said that I was an ungrateful bitch for not being happy we had sex.’

Reese scoffs. ‘What an idiot.’

‘So anyways, it was during our X-Factor days, so I got dressed and told him I was going back to my dorm and masturbate, because I obviously couldn’t count on him for some pleasure. Fast forward to two weeks later. We’re waiting for our dance training and the teacher wasn’t there yet and this time around there weren’t camera’s to film anything. So me and some other girls were chatting about orgasms and stuff like that, as one does. Since this said guy was like a few feet away from us and had been telling the other competitors that I was a slut and ungrateful and all, I decided to take my change. I say in a pretty loud voice: “Well, if you want orgasms, you have to skip on sex with… Let’s call him Peter,’—his name was Cole Springs, but I’m not totally heartless and he is doing pretty okay in the country music industry now, so I don’t want to ruin his reputation entirely—‘you have to skip on sex with Peter, because he’ll nut inside of you within thirty seconds. You better ditch that boy and use your toy, because no orgasms for you when having sex with him. So that song was heavily based on someone.’

‘I’m so glad I asked that question,’ Graham says in a giddy voice, causing the rest of the audience and Chris Evans and Reese Witherspoon to laugh as well. ‘I admire you, Luna,’ he adds. ‘You really have the guts to sing about these topics.’

Chris Evans nods. ‘I totally agree.’

‘What is in stores for Luna?’ Graham asks. ‘What can we expect?’

I lean back in the couch. What can they expect? I never thought that far ahead. I was just thinking about promotions for this album. ‘Hopefully a world tour one day,’ I say. ‘I am still working on expanding my back up crew, but I want everyone to feel represented, you know? So, that’s totally what I’m working on and for the rest… I think just more music, more controversies, because it turns out that’s what I do best.’

‘I’m here for it,’ Graham says. ‘Is it hard to sing about certain topics like sex, masturbation and female empowerment?’

I shrug. ‘I feel like someone should do it,’ I admit. ‘I know that people—especially men—have certain opinions about it, but you know… I feel that there is someone out there, that listens songs and feels a bit empowered and that’s all I care about.’

Chris nods. ‘I admire you,’ he says, causing the audience to aww. ‘I bet it can be hard sometimes.’

Are we having a moment right now? I’m lost in his eyes for a few seconds. ‘Sometimes, yeah.’

Graham interrupts this whatever it was by asking if I’m ready to perform.

‘Oh, yeah, totally am.’

‘Please give it up for Luna, who is going to sing a mashup of Inside and Silky Ribbon!’

✘ ✘ ✘

‘You have one new message,’ the robotic voice of the woman says when I want to check my voicemail on my phone. I’m at a pretty chill bar, with a nice bartender who gave me two drinks on the house already, since he liked my album and my appearance on the Graham Norton show.

‘Luna, what the actual fuck?’ Look at that. Cole Springs decided to call me. ‘Do you honestly need to tell that fucking story on television? I already got five texts from people who either ask me if this is about me or simply know it’s about me.’

I click the voicemail away mid sentence, since I really can’t use this right now. I already feel tired and like shit, no need for Cole Springs to make things even worse. ‘Could I have one more please?’ I ask with a pout, as I push my empty glass to the bartender.

‘Sure thing,’ he says. ‘Who was that on your voicemail?’

‘Cole Springs.’

‘The boyband member gone country boy?’

I nod. ‘He wasn’t all too happy I exposed him like that.’

‘That was the Peter in the story?’ The bartender’s laugh fills up the entire bar. ‘This is amazing. He looks like the type of guy that would nut in two seconds.’

I can’t help but laugh, as I feel the vodka already making me feel a bit lightheaded. That feeling however doesn’t stop me from drinking up some more. I stare outside and see that it’s snowing pretty heavily. I’m still wearing the outfit I wore to Graham Norton, but with the thickest coat worn over it. I know that I have to get back to my hotel, but for now I’ll just stall that moment and enjoy it here.

‘How long are you going to stay in London?’ the bartender asks.

‘Dunno, man. Think I’m heading home somewhere tomorrow or the day after that. I honestly don’t know. Normally Gia, my manager would be with me, but she’s sick now.’

The door opens and some guys are yelling something, but I’m too tired to look up. I place my head on my arms, hoping that I can gain some energy to go and hail a cab.

‘Hi there, can I have…’

I look up and see that Chris Evans is standing right next to me, ordering a drink. He looks really handsome, but that is pretty easy, since he is really handsome. Everything he does is simply breathtaking. I bet he has sex every weekend with someone else. I mean, I bet there is a line waiting to have sex with Captain America and I’m somewhere in that line too. ‘Hi,’ I say and he looks up, a smile appearing on his beautiful face when he recognizes me.

‘Hi, Luna, how are you?’

‘Tired and a bit annoyed though.’

‘Oh no.’ He sits on the stool next to me and his knee bumps against mine. ‘Tell me all about it.’

I start to rant about Cole Springs, exposing to Chris as well who the story was about and during that rant, I go on about my past, about the foster care system and how that is bothering me. I rub my face, not caring that my make-up is all smudged over and the alcohol that I just drank is really kicking in now.

‘I think I just have a kink for controversy, you know,’ I say, staring at me empty glass. ‘I love being in the spotlights for everything that is not exactly how it’s supposed to go. When I got arrested at that protest, boy, I liked the attention that got.’

Chris smiles. ‘Well, I hardly think what you do is that controversial. I think you are just a bit ahead of your time.’

‘That is so deep,’ I admit, absolutely in awe by him. ‘Wow, not only are you handsome, but you are pretty much an intellectual as well. You should consider writing. Bet it would be a bestseller.’

‘I think,’ Chris laughs, pulling the drink from my hands, ‘you’ve had enough to drink.’

‘No,’ I whine, but Chris gets out of his chair. ‘I’m boring you, aren’t I?’

‘Not at all, but I think you need to get back to your hotel,’ Chris says. ‘Hearing from your stories, you have to catch a flight tomorrow and I bet you don’t want to be completely hungover then.’

‘I was already hungover this morning,’ I say, sliding off the barstool. Chris holds up my coat and helps me to put it on. ‘I could use a cigarette, you know.’

‘I bet you do.’

I wrap my arm around his broad shoulders and with my other hand, I hold his face. I place my thumb on one cheek and the rest of my fingers on his other cheek. ‘You have such a beautiful face, that you could just lick and not regret it,’ I admit. ‘Has anyone told you that?’

He starts to chuckle. ‘Not with those exact words.’

‘Well,’ I continue, ‘have you ever read fan fiction about yourself?’ I don’t give him time to answer that question, as we walk out of the bar into the cold, Chris’ arm wrapped tightly around my waist. ‘I have,’ I say, ‘especially the real dirty ones. According to those stories, you know exactly how to please a woman. I bet you are really good in bed, a whole lot better than sweet Cole Springs. I bet you can last for hours.’

‘I sure hope so,’ he laughs.

‘Tell me, do you have sex with a new woman every other week? Because I was wondering that and personally, I’m gravitating towards yes, because honestly I think you are a walking sex machine.’

Chris holds out his hand to hail a cab and says: ‘No, I don’t actually. I barely have sex nowadays.’

‘Shut up!’ I yell. ‘No, no, no, that can’t be true.’ I wiggle myself out of his embrace and crouch down on the sidewalk. My fingers touch the snow, a cold sensation that makes me shiver. ‘What happened to the world that you, Chris Captain America Evans, barely has sex nowadays. If you don’t have sex, what is the rest of the world doing? Oh my, you poor thing.’

‘It’s really not that big of a deal, Luna,’ Chris laughs. He holds out his hands and says: ‘Come on, we need to get into the cab.’

‘You hailed a cab?’ I take ahold of his warm hands and jump up. ‘That is so cool. You are so talented.’

He helps me into the cab and I want to pull him on my lap, so he can sit comfortably there, but weirdly enough, he insists on walking around the cab and sitting next to me. ‘So, can you tell me where your hotel is?’

‘I don’t remember,’ I admit. ‘I barely remember anything that happened today. I was pretty hungover when I arrived here.’ I let myself fall to the side, placing my head on his legs. ‘Mister Evans, have you been working out?’ I squeeze his tight muscles in his thighs, admiring what’s in between my fingers. ‘Damn, I bet chicks love to ride your thighs.’

He burst out in laughter. ‘How much did you have to drink?’ he asks.

‘Just a few shots,’ I admit. ‘But I don’t really handle alcohol that great, to be honest. I’m wasted like that.’ I attempt to snap my fingers, but I fail miserably. My hands look for his and when I finally have one in my hand, I admire his beautifully shaped fingers. ‘You have lovely hands. You have spanked a girl’s ass with these? Or anyone’s ass for that matter’

He starts to laugh. ‘You are unbelievable,’ he says.

‘I’ve never been spanked,’ I confess. ‘I’d love that though. You know, I sing about sex a lot, but to be honest, I haven’t had proper sex in like a year. I mean, my toys do miracles, just like my hands and all. But I just want to have hot and heavy sex.’ I look up and hold out my hand, to touch his beautiful face. His beard pricks against my skin, but I’m not complaining at all.

In the background I hear Chris say something to me, but I close my eyes and fall asleep.

Taglist: @diegos-butt

#chris evans #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x original female character #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #caught in a blizzard #chris evans x luna hwang #chris evans x singer #chris evans x luna

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leo-lucid · 5 years

Text

Chapter 13: The Vampire

I was the most nervous about going on my date with Endrian. We seemed to connect the last time we spoke, but he hasn't spoken to me ever since. I haven't even seen him around the house. There was no communication on what we were going to do, what I should wear, or even if the date was still on. I just assumed that the date was still on. So, I dressed according to the weather and hoped that it was appropriate enough for wherever Endrian planned on taking me.

As I was pulling my hair into a bun, I heard a soft knock on the door. I finished doing my hair and opened the door to find no one standing in front of my oddly enough. However, there was a note sitting on the hardwood floor. On the front of the note was my name written in rather neat, cursive handwriting. On the back were simple instructions.

Meet me in the garage in ten minutes. Bring a heavy jacket. And don't eat any snacks.

- Endrian

From the instructions, I assumed that we were going to eat something on our date. I didn't take Endrian to really be the foodie type. Perhaps it was because he was a vampire that I just assumed that he only consumed food for the nourishment, not the flavor. I headed back inside my room and closed the door behind me, deciding to get ready even further.

After putting on some light makeup, changing into a royal blue long sleeve dress with black legging for more warmth, and touching up my hair bun, I checked the time and saw that five minutes have passed. I figured that it would take me a couple of minutes to get down to the garage and that it wouldn't hurt to be just a couple minutes early. So, I headed down the stairs and into the garage.

Endrian was shoving something in the carrier on the back of his motorcycle just as I walked in. After he saw me, he glanced down at his watch. Then, he looked back up at me with those serious, red eyes of his. "You're a minute early."

"Well, better early than late, right? May I ask where we are heading?" I finally asked, nervous to be asking that question in the first place. It was probably obvious that I was still kinda scared of Endrian, no doubt that he noticed my hesitance whenever it came to him.

"We're going to the cliffside to have a picnic. I got sandwiches, fruit, and even chocolate. You like chocolate, right?" He asked, his gaze not meeting mine. Hearing all the things he packed, I was actually a little excited about our date. It seemed like Endrian put quite a bit of time and thought into the date.

"I like chocolate. A lot, actually. Thank you for preparing everything for us. Can you eat any of that though?" I asked my next question.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?"

I blushed a little as I realized that my question may have been stereotypical. When it came to meals, I guessed that I never actually paid attention to his eating habits. All I really noticed was that Endrian finished his meals rather quickly and left at the same pace. "J-Just making sure is all. U-Um, shall we get going then?"

Endrian gave me a slightly bewildered look before rolling his eyes, dropping the topic. He handed me a motorcycle helmet before putting on his own. Hopping on the back of his cycle, he gestured for me to get on the back. I followed, getting on the back of the cycle and wrapping my arms around his waist. This action still made me nervous, but not as nervous as last time for some reason.

The garage door opened and the cycle was revved up, ready to go. Soon enough, Endrian sped away out of the garage and down the path towards the main town that would help guide us to the cliffside. It was a good thing Endrian suggested that I wear a heavier jacket. With the wind hitting me on the back of the motorcycle and just the recent changes in weather, it was pretty chilly. Even though my heavy coat, I could feel some goosebumps start to form on my skin.

We sped through the town and took the long way up to the cliffs, this time Endrian taking his time on the way up. I remembered the first time he took me to the cliffside. He went way over the speed limit out of frustration and anger and spewed out his confessions out of the same feelings. I wondered if he was still grieving or if he was healing already. I didn't know much about Endrian, but he seemed to be a strong individual that tended to bottle up his feelings until he exploded.

I wanted to help teach him not to bottle those emotions up. I knew from experience that bottling them up would only make the pain feel worse. The last thing I wanted for him was to experience more pain.

Eventually, we reached that familiar cliffside, the sun beginning to bathe the sky in purples and pinks. Endrian pulled into a parking spot and turned the engine off before taking off his helmet. I followed his movements and took my helmet off as well. Fixing my hair bun, I got off the cycle and stepped back to give him some space to hop off and fetch the picnic basket. There weren't any cars or people on the spot, probably because it was a little too cold. The only thing that kept me from shivering was the warm sunlight piercing through my black coat.

I continued to stare at the sunset and take in the warmth before it would disappear to bring the stars and moon out. Shuffling could be heard beside me as Endrian unpacked the blanket from the basket. Turning my head, I saw him setting down a blanket and bringing out the food. As promised, he brought sandwiches, fruit, and chocolate. The way everything was packed reminded me of what a little kid would bring to school for lunch. The sandwiches were in plastic bags and the fruit was in a large tupperware container to share. The chocolate was just in its plastic wrapping as well.

Despite that, however, I was really grateful that he even made the effort to organize the picnic. It made it seem like he was really trying his best to make this date a success. Once he sat down on the blanket, I went ahead and took a seat next to him, but still keeping some distance between us. I still didn't want to intrude on his personal space.

"Come on. I don't bite." Endrian huffed until he realized what he said. I remembered my first time "meeting" him and I knew that he can and will try to bite. There was a moment of awkward silence between us, Endrian looking away from me. Eventually, I cleared my throat and grabbed a sandwich to eat. I haven't eaten any snacks earlier as instructed, so I was pretty hungry.

"So, Endrian, what do you like to do for fun?" I inquired, taking a bite out of my roast beef sandwich. The lettuce was crisp and the tomato was juicy, blending well with the provolone cheese and small hint of mayo. I took another bite and gave a genuine smile as I enjoyed the food.

"Er, I like to work on my bike. Mechanical work is what I've always been good at. Cars, motorcycles, any kind of engine really. I also like to enjoy a beer every once in a while. And I. . ." Endrian trailed off, his cheeks turning a little pink. His gaze was still trained on the view ahead. The town was just turning on their lights in preparation for the darkness. It was a beautiful sight, but I wished that he would be a little more engaging.

Endrian pulled a ham sandwich out from a plastic bag and began to eat, letting his sentence end there. We fell into an awkward silence again as we ate, making me fidget in my seat. I stared ahead at the scene before us as well, trying to think about what to say next.

Before I could speak up, he went ahead and broke the silence. "What about you? What do you like to do for fun?"

"Oh, well, I like to practice and study magic. I also like to watch documentaries. I love nature documentaries the most, but any kind of documentary is good to me except for the ones that report false information and propaganda. Cooking shows are also something that I like." I answered, a bit glad that he was trying to keep the conversation going. However, as I talked, it seemed like he wasn't paying that much attention. It looked like he had his head in the clouds.

"Endrian? Is something wrong?" I finally asked. I would understand if he wanted to cut the date short due to how uncomfortable and awkward it seemed to be for both of us. But, I was a little too afraid to mention it first. I wanted to know what he thought.

"What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking. . ." He trailed off once again. His tone wasn't as harsh as usual. In fact, it was actually pretty vulnerable sounding.

"What are you thinking about if I may ask?"

Endrian didn't say anything for quite a while. He just laid down on the blanket, facing the sky that began to show off some stars. I decided to lay down on my back with him, enjoying the view. The sound of crickets began to become more apparent and the sky was turning from a lavish pink to a royal purple to a midnight blue, stars dancing in the blue.

A sigh came from him and he spoke up. "Anise? Why am I cursed? I know that you don't know yet. I'm just thinking out loud here. Out of everyone in town, why me? Who did I piss off so bad that they forced me to stay here? I remember feeding on a person in this town and then in the next moment, I could never leave."

"Do you remember who you were. . . feeding on?" I struggled to ask my question, knowing that by "feeding" he meant sucking the blood out of someone. Who knew if he drank enough to let them die in the street or not. No matter how I looked at it, it didn't seem like a delicate or graceful act.

He shrugged. "Some lady. I can barely remember her face. All I know is that she tasted sweet like caramel. In fact. . ."

Endrian sat up a bit and leaned down closer to me, his face inches away from my neck. I froze, afraid that he was going to try to bite me. Instead, though, I heard a couple of sniffs and he lied back down in his own space. "You smell kinda like her. Sweet like caramel."

I didn't really know what to say about that. Instead, I just tried to relax again. Yet another silence fell over us both, but this time it was much more thoughtful. It was a stretch, but could the same woman that cursed the others so far be the same person that cursed Endrian? I also reflected back to what Danton said, a witch speaking with my grandmother and cursing zir. I wondered if my grandmother had any records of this other witch within her books.

"This is just a theory, but I think that you, Danton, Cassius, and Beofur were all cursed by the same witch. If that's the case, then you ended up feeding on a witch who then cursed you to this town after she came to again." I briefly explained. He didn't say anything, but I could see his brow quirk up for a moment.

". . . Yeah, I guess that would make sense. A witch would definitely be able to do something about me feeding off the people here. Funny thing is that ever since then, I haven't had the desire to feed on anyone until you showed up." He confessed like it was a perfectly natural thing to say.

I didn't respond to his comment, again, unsure of what to say. I then suddenly heard a loud rumble coming from his stomach. He sat up quickly and popped open the container of fruit, tossing a grape into his mouth. "Sorry. Ever since you arrived at the house, it's been hard to keep my appetite and desires in check."

"D-Desires?" I repeated, thinking that he could have probably used a much better word than that.

"Well, in addition to just hating you before, you also smell sweet as I have said. It's been hard to not try to feed. Why else do you think I kept avoiding you before?" He seriously asked.

"I-I just thought that you hated me. . ." I answered honestly. I didn't think that I could be blamed for my answer either. While we have reconciled since the last time we had some alone time, I still thought that a part of him hated me enough to avoid me.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I don't hate you that much, you know? What made you think that I hated you that much?"

I sat up and gave him an incredulous look. "B-Because you avoided me and sn-snapped at me all the time. . ."

It looked like he was about to snap at me until he froze and shook his head, looking down into his lap. ". . . I'm sorry. I don't hate you. I'm just. . . taking out all my frustrations out on you and trying to protect you from me."

"If anything, I should think that you hate me. After all, I came close to biting your neck before even officially meeting, I've done nothing but snap at you and even avoiding you despite talking on this cliff last time. But you. . . you kept trying to be nice to me. You keep trying to give me a chance. Why?" He questioned, turning his head to face me.

Despite how dark it was getting, I could see his red eyes glow through the darkness. They were intense like he was staring right into my soul. "I-I think everyone deserves a chance. I understand that you were frustrated and took it out on me. But, I don't blame you for it. I think I would be angry too if I was in your shoes."

"There you go again, being understanding." He actually chuckled and shook his head. His gaze returned to the stars and he ate another piece of fruit. I reached over and picked out an apple slice, enjoying its cotton candy sweetness.

"Anise?"

"Yes, Endrian?" I responded.

"This. . . This is going to sound selfish, but do you mind if I drink just a bit of your blood? This sandwich and fruit aren't cutting it for me, especially since you're around." He sincerely asked. I bit my lower lip and brought my knees up to my chest, thinking about it seriously. I knew I had trouble saying no to people. This was one of those times.

"J-Just a bit. . ." I finally replied. Endrian slowly scooted closer to me, his body heat radiating and warming me up through my coat. I closed my eyes and exposed some of my neck for him. The feeling of his warm breath hit my skin sent a shiver along my spine. I could feel and hear my heartbeat race within my chest. The last time we were this close was when he tried to bite me the first time. The only difference between then and now was that he had my consent.

Sharp teeth grazed against my skin, causing me to jump. I clenched my fists and waited for them to puncture through my skin. However, it never came. I suddenly felt a heavy weight resting against my shoulder and a sigh hit my neck. "I can't do it. . ."

I opened my eyes and got the full picture of what was happening. Endrian was resting his head on my shoulder, still sitting close to me. We sat like that for a moment, feeling more comfortable than we probably should've felt. The weight was comforting to me. I wanted him to feel that same sense of comfort. So, hesitatingly, I put a hand on his back and patted.

"It's okay. . ." I comforted, unsure of what I was comforting him about. I felt him tense up for a second before relaxing further into me. He then sat up and began to back all the food, tossing me a piece of the chocolate bar.

"Here. Let's call it a night, yeah?"

I nodded and took a bite of the piece, letting the rich chocolate melt on my tongue. After helping him back everything up, we loaded it back onto the motorcycle and hopped on before speeding away back home. Again, he took the long and slow route back home.

We pulled into the garage at a reasonable hour. Unlike my other dates that ran pretty late, this one was actually pretty short. Like he was reading my mind, Endrian mentioned it. "Sorry that the date was pretty short. I'm not good at this sort of thing. The next one will be longer though."

"The next one?"

"Yeah, if that's okay with you?" He confirmed. I found it actually pretty sweet how he wanted my permission now. He was noticeably more considerate than before. I gave him a nod and a bright smile.

"I don't mind a second date. Just write a day on the calendar whenever you are ready. Thank you for taking me on a date tonight. Despite it being short, I felt like I did get to know you better and I feel like more things are cleared up." I confessed, feeling a little heat on my cheeks.

He gave a curt nod and began to take up the picnic basket from the back. While he tried to hide it, I could see a faint blush on his own cheeks. "Yeah. . . Well, I guess I'll see you around, Anise."

And with that, I headed inside the house and to my room. He may not look it or act like it sometimes, but Endrian was pretty considerate. Or at least he was changing for the better.

________________________________________________________________ Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

#writing #romance #novel #writblr #reverse harem

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there-must-be-a-lock · 6 years

Text

The One Where They Go To Paris

Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~3500

Warnings: Unforgiveable amounts of schmoop including some schmoopy fluffy smut.

A/N: This doc is literally saved as “self indulgent paris fluff” and... yeah. What it says on the tin. I’m not sorry.

“We should go to the Louvre tomorrow,” Sam said. “Wait, where’s…” He rifled through the stack of maps, guidebooks, and pamphlets that were sitting on his tray table.

“Can it wait until we get off the plane? My head is going to explode if I don’t get real coffee soon,” you grumbled.

“...and then the Centre Pompidou in the afternoon, and the next day we have a scheduled tour of the Musee de L’Orangerie,” he continued, enthusiasm not at all dampened by your grouchiness. “Oh, and I want to see the Tuileries at sunset that night. I think Versailles should be Thursday, because I think -” he brandished a printout of the weather forecast for the week. “- it’ll be nice and warm that day. The gardens are amazing, I can’t wait to see them in person. Sound good?”

“Mmph,” you said, and leaned onto his shoulder, trying to figure out if you had time for another nap before the plane landed.

“I know the guided tour is expensive, but the gardens are really supposed to be amazing,” Sam was saying to himself, and he jotted something down in a notebook.

“Mmph.” You fought the urge to cover his mouth with your hand. “Sweetheart, I love you, but this is ridiculous.”

“I just want to make sure everything is perfect,” he said earnestly, and when he turned to you with those big soft puppy-dog eyes, you felt like the world’s biggest jerk. “It’s not like we’re going to get another chance to take a vacation any time soon.”

You smiled at him, squeezing his hand. “I know. But I’ll be with my wonderful boyfriend, in motherfucking Paris, and for a whole week we don’t have to fight anything that might want to kill us. Hopefully. Probably. How could it not be perfect?”

He gave you a quick, affectionate peck on the forehead, and turned back to his map. A little chime sounded over the plane’s loudspeakers, and a smooth female voice announced that you were preparing for landing at Charles de Gaulle. Sam’s head snapped up from his guidebook, comically fast, and you giggled.

Sam stuffed his books and papers into his carry-on and peered excitedly out the window, holding your hand tightly, and the plane began to circle.

-----

You woke up slowly, gradually becoming aware of your surroundings: cloudlike comforter, fresh silky sheets, a very unfamiliar view, and Sam, who was spooned up behind you, half-hard and rocking forward sleepily against your back. You snuggled back and smiled, reminded of the previous night’s activities by the slight soreness between your legs.

Vacation was awesome.

You wriggled a little, lazy but still eager, and Sam hummed his approval against your shoulder. He flattened a hand over your stomach and held you closer.

You could feel him getting harder, rubbing against you while he kissed the curve of your shoulder, and then he was touching you, hand running from your belly up to your breast to roll a nipple gently between his fingers, pinching and teasing until the skin was pebbled taut and sensitive. His hand skimmed back down your body to brush his fingertips in little circles around your clit. It didn’t take long before you were moaning, arching your back, still heavy-limbed and dazed from sleep but already wet and desperate and ready.

It wasn’t until you were begging that he finally gave you what you wanted, lifting your thigh so he could slide into you smoothly from behind, still spooned up behind you in a way that felt cozy and intimate and sweet. He eased in inch by inch, rocking forward with shallow, steady thrusts so you could adjust to his size. You both moaned when he was fully inside you.

He felt huge, even more so than usual, in this position, but the slight ache from the night before dissipated quickly as he started to fuck you, slow and languid, dragging perfectly over your g-spot with every roll of his hips. You were both still sleepy and uncoordinated, but with the way he moved, you didn’t need much of a rhythm; every slippery-sweet movement had you gasping, grinding back against him. Pleasure rolled up your spine, through your muscles, out to your fingertips, shivering through you bright and hot and glowing.

You could feel him getting close, the way his fingers dug into your hip and his movements went urgent and stuttering, but you were already wound tight. His fingers found your clit, rubbing gently, and you groaned, rocking back to meet each thrust, already seeing sparks. He knew your body so well, knew exactly how to touch you, and a few strokes of his talented fingers had you gasping out his name, shuddering and clenching around him as you came, while he sank into you one final time with a long, ragged cry.

“Nowhere to be,” Sam mumbled, when you caught your breath and started to pull away. “No rush.” He slung an arm over your waist and snuggled close, kissing the back of your neck, and you settled back against him and drifted back to sleep.

-----

The Louvre was, to be frank, dead fucking boring. It was too crowded and too big. You couldn’t get remotely close to the Mona Lisa even when you did find it (which took a while) and the rest of the place was full of dull-colored portraits of bleeding saints and fly-covered pig heads. You decided to play tour guide.

“Here, we have a real masterpiece,” you said formally, as Sam stopped to consider a painting. “This is by some old dead guy, and the subject is some other dead guy. Notice the strikingly depressing usage of monotone browns and greys.”

Sam looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or be scandalized.

“It’s a Caravaggio,” he said. The corners of his mouth were twitching; he was struggling to contain the laughter.

“Let me guess,” you retorted. “He’s old and dead.”

Sam smiled, wide and happy and amused in spite of himself, and grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers and giving them a squeeze. All the boring paintings in the world were worth it for that fucking smile.

“Okay, smartass, you win. C’mon, there’s one more room I want to see and then we’ll go get you some hot chocolate.”

-----

Apparently, when Sam said “hot chocolate,” he did not mean Swiss Miss. He meant a fancy, high-ceilinged parlor where everything was covered in gold leaf, and the hot chocolate was served in thin, fancy tea cups that looked doll-like in Sam’s hands, and it was soup-thick and rich and basically the stuff of fantasies.

“Can we come back here tomorrow?” you asked dreamily, as you walked back out into the crisp autumn air.

Sam laughed. “Whatever you want.”

“You really do love me, huh? Okay, what’s next on the agenda?”

“Actually,” Sam said, attempting an innocent face. “I was hoping we could stop at the hotel first?”

“Did you forget one of your phrase books?”

“No.” Sam shot you a suggestive little smirk. “Your chocolate face is basically the same as your O-face, and it gave me some ideas.”

“Do we have time in the schedule?” you teased. “Have you cross-referenced this with your maps and weather forecast?”

“Fuck the schedule,” Sam said decisively, and stepped forward to hail a taxi.

-----

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Catacombs?” you joked, flipping through one of Sam’s guidebooks.

“I think we spend enough time in graveyards, don’t you?” he replied. He was emerging from the bathroom in nothing but a towel, and you spared a second to ogle him. “Besides, according to the lore that place isn’t actually haunted by anything.”

You stopped checking Sam out long enough to grimace. “Are you seriously quoting lore at me right now?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “Paris has some really interesting ghost stories. But the Catacombs actually connect to a massive series of tunnels under the city. There’s this huge network of them and people who spend weeks at a time camping out down there, they’re called Cataphiles, so pretty much all of the recent stories that have come from there actually started because someone saw or heard one of those people. Are you gonna get dressed?”

“If I must,” you said, stretching shamelessly and grinning at the way Sam’s eyes flickered over your body. He caught himself and turned back to his suitcase.

“The last tour starts in an hour, I’d really like to catch it today.”

You pouted a little, heaving a sigh as Sam pulled on a sweater. “Fine. Tell me more about these interesting ghosts. I’m fascinated.” He somehow missed your sarcasm.

“Well, there’s one who was probably the inspiration for Sweeney Todd.”

“Sweeney Todd? Really?” you asked, mock-impressed.

Sam rolled his eyes, but he grinned. “You’re totally making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea who Sweeney Todd is,” you confessed, through giggles. “But you know I love it when you have a dork attack.”

“Seriously?” he asked, incredulous. “The musical? Demon barber of Fleet Street?”

You shook your head.

“Pies!” Sam said, and then he affected a horrible, high-pitched Cockney accent to sing: “Mind you I can hardly blame them, these are probably the worst pies in London!”

You burst out laughing again. Sam tackled you back onto the bed and started swinging a pillow at you.

Needless to say, you did not make it to the last tour of the day.

-----

Sam spouted off facts about the Eiffel Tower from the moment you got in line, all through the elevator ride up to the top. You nodded or hmm’d at the appropriate intervals, but mostly you just watched his face, the genuine excitement there, the way his eyes sometimes sparkled and then went distant as he tried to remember a name.

It amazed you, sometimes, that he could go through everything he’d endured and still hold onto this bright, wondering interest in the world. It seemed like a miracle that he could be so curious, when he had every right to be jaded.

When you stepped out onto the viewing deck, he trailed off, and the two of you stepped wordlessly toward the railing. He wrapped you in his arms, and you leaned back against his chest, and the two of you stayed there for a long time, watching lights flicker across Paris, taking it all in together.

-----

“Well, I think now we’re officially lost,” Sam said, looking around. The two of you had taken a wrong turn somewhere on your way back to the hotel from dinner. A slight drizzle was falling. The drops of rain caught the yellow light of the streetlamps, throwing a golden sparkle over the surroundings, making the world feel even more surreal and dreamlike than it already was.

You shrugged and interlaced your fingers with Sam’s. He smiled down at you, and the two of you began to walk, arm-in-arm, with no particular destination.

You wandered through the narrow, crooked cobblestoned alleys, peeking into the windows of small stores, passing the chatter of restaurants and bars. Parisians seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time on the patios of various cafes, chain-smoking and ordering leisurely beers at any hour of the day.

Music drifted from inside a dark club, something with horns, bright and soaring. You raised an eyebrow at Sam and he looked dubiously at the grimy-looking door and the cluster of chic, black-clad Parisians smoking around it, but before he could think too hard, you tugged him over.

The place was dimly lit and smoky, the air thick with the humid press of too many bodies, all moving in unison to the fast funk rhythm. The band was six people, all crowded onto a tiny not-really-stage set barely a foot above the main dance floor, and they were making so much noise with drums and horns and an upright bass and a gorgeous, sultry singer that the music seemed to fill the space like a tangible presence.

Sam, in spite of his initial reluctance, was tapping his toe by the time the two of you had ordered drinks. You could see the tension melting out of him, the ever-present sense of duty and responsibility and wariness replaced by bright, sparkling eyes and a dimpled smile.

When your drinks were gone, Sam inclined his head toward the dance floor eagerly, and you followed him through the crowd. He grabbed your hand in his, placing the other on your hip, and led you into a little swing-y step with a confidence you never would have expected; you could count the times you’d seen him dance on one hand. It took you a minute to get the feel of it, but he just smiled and let you lean into him, and by the time the song sped into a crescendo you were moving together easily, without having to think about it. He spun you under his arm for a twirl as it finished, catching you with sure hands at your waist, and before you could blink he’d swept you backward into a dip, deep and sudden enough that your head spun as you giggled up at him.

The band launched into something faster, almost frantic. Sam pulled you to your feet and then the two of you were moving with it, an effortless back-and-forth, eyes locked as you shimmied away and back in, close, twisted under his arm, twirled, breathless and joyful. The crowd seemed to pulse as one along with the rhythm section, until everything felt like a blur: sweat and heat, flashes of strangers’ faces in the low light, and Sam, always Sam, anchoring you and moving with you like you’d rehearsed it a hundred times, natural and easy.

When that song stopped, you just stood and stared at each other for a second, catching your breath, flushed and grinning. Sam looked so vibrantly alive that you felt paralyzed. When he was like this, carefree and laughing, he was fucking incandescent, blindingly beautiful and magnetic.

Then the band was playing something sultry and slow, and Sam was lacing your fingers together and pulling you close, hips moving in time to the deep, slinking bass. You tucked your head under his chin and let him guide you.

-----

When you finally left the club with ringing ears and sweaty, disheveled hair, the cool drizzle had deepened to a steady rain, bracing and perfect on your skin after the humid heat of the dance floor. You turned your face up to the sky and smiled, leaning into Sam’s side as the two of you started down the sidewalk. For a minute, neither of you spoke. You tilted your head against his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around you, and you tried to match your strides to his much longer ones.

“Thank you,” he said eventually, and the emotion resonating through his voice startled you. “For… for everything.”

He stopped short, tugging you against him for a long, sweet kiss, and you sighed into it, melting against him. By the time he pulled away you were breathless all over again.

“Not that I mind,” you said dreamily, nuzzling his neck, “but what was that for?”

He cupped your cheeks in his hands, tilting your face up so that you had no choice but to meet his eyes. You saw heat there, raw lust and passion, but more importantly, the same fierce, proud adoration that you felt looking back at him. You were quickly getting soaked to the skin, goosebumps running down your arms, but you felt warm down to the tips of your toes.

“You make my life fun,” Sam said simply, and punctuated the words with a kiss. “I never thought I could have that. When I’m with you… fuck, I don’t know. You’re smart, and I trust you with my life, and I feel like I know you so goddamn well, and you still surprise me. You surprise me every day, and I’m so grateful.”

His voice was shaking by the end of the little speech, and you had to blink back tears before you could say, “I love you.”

“Love you too. So much,” he said softly, and kissed your forehead. You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, trying to memorize the moment: the rain, the glow of the streetlamps, the way you felt wrapped in his arms, and the emotion swelling in your chest, threatening to choke you.

“Fuck, we’re saps,” you joked, with a shaky laugh. “Okay, Mr. Walking Guidebook, which way to get home?”

-----

You were both soaked and shivering by the time you got back to the hotel. You huddled against Sam, teeth starting to chatter, as the ancient elevator began to shudder upwards.

“I can think of some ways to warm up,” he suggested.

“I like the sound of that,” you mumbled.

When you reached your room, Sam went to the bathroom while you stripped out of your wet clothes, hanging them in the closet to dry. You heard water running.

“What are you doing in there?” you called.

“Grab one of those bottles of wine,” Sam said back, blatantly avoiding the question. You rolled your eyes and uncorked a Pinot Noir before heading in to join him.

Sam was crouching by the tub, a massive old claw-footed thing, already almost half full. He was testing the water with one hand. As you watched, he grabbed a little bottle from the sink and poured something rose-scented in the water. It immediately started to foam.

“I would make fun of you for being a pre-teen girl at heart, but this is a fucking incredible idea,” you said fervently. You set the wine on the ground and stepped in gingerly, groaning when the gloriously hot water hit your chilled skin. You sat back against the foot of the tub, where it was deep and perfectly curved to cradle your body, and slouched until the spreading blanket of bubbles almost touched your chin.

Sam had thrown his wet clothes over the towel bar. He flicked down a few switches, leaving just one light, low and golden, and his bare skin gleamed as he folded himself down gracefully into the opposite end of the tub. He sighed happily, letting his eyes close.

You groped over the side of the tub until you could grab the wine bottle and took a sip, and Sam made grabby hands without looking at you. You giggled before passing it along. You admired the way he tilted his head back to drink, exposing the long lines of his neck, the way his throat moved when he swallowed and the quick flick of his tongue over his lower lip, and you were reminded, for the gazillionth time that day, how lucky you were.

When the tub was full and Sam turned the faucet off, the sudden quiet was startling. Rain pattered steadily against the window. Ripples of water whispered against the walls of the tub, and when you really listened, you could hear the tiny sound of bubbles popping. The air was close and thick with fragrant steam.

You passed the wine back and forth slowly, sipping straight from the bottle, and the silence stretched comfortably. Sam’s hair was going wavy in the humidity, curling where it framed his face, and his wine-stained lips were curved up in a lazy, relaxed smile. His skin seemed to glow where it caught the light. He was watching you through heavy-lidded eyes, smiling that sweet, unguarded smile that was just for you.

A deep, slow roll of thunder startled you both, and you started mid-sip, spilling the last of the wine down your chin. Sam laughed, so you stuck out your tongue and flicked a handful of bubbles at him. He tilted his head, considering you, as if he was deciding how to retaliate.

Instead, he said quietly, “Marry me.”

Your grip on the empty bottle slipped, and it fell into the water with a quiet splash.

“What now?” you blurted out.

“I had this whole plan,” he laughed, running his hands through his tousled hair. “There was going to be champagne, and… I have a ring, it’s in my bag, and I’ll go get it right now if you want, but I just… nothing ever goes according to plan with you, does it? And I couldn’t wait any more.”

“Say it again?” you asked, head swimming pleasantly.

He beamed, shy and hopeful and excited. “Marry me?”

Water sloshed over the side of the tub as you pounced, throwing yourself at him clumsily, and then you were both laughing as you kissed every part of his face you could reach, curling yourself around him as best you could, graceless and sliding on the porcelain and so far beyond caring.

“Yes,” you said, lips crushed against his. “Yes, fucking yes.”

He held you close, and you curled up around him in a cloud of rose-scented bubbles, and the two of you held each other, kissing softly and listening to the rain until the water went cold and the rest of the world melted away.

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lickstynine · 6 years

Text

Misadventures of Kit: Chapter Twenty-Five

I just want to say a quick thank-you to those of you that have been waiting so patiently for this. I was really struggling when school first started back up, but I think I’ve finally gotten into a routine, so I’ll be trying to post chapters regularly again.

written with @ocsickficsideblog

By the time Kit was feeling well again, it was barely a week til Christmas. He’d been watching the calendar warily. The Raycraft Christmas ball was drawing close, and even though he wouldn’t be going alone, he was still terrified. Siofra had visited several times while he was sick, and she’d promised repeatedly to beat the shit out of anyone who bothered him, but Kit couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that something would go wrong.

Now it was the 19th, and Kit was getting dressed properly for the first time in almost two weeks. He’d promised to take Siofra shopping for a dress, both as thanks for going with him, and so she’d have something appropriately fancy to wear. Alistair had of course insisted on coming along, and the younger boy was sitting impatiently on the bed while Kit put on mascara and re-re-re-fixed his hair.

“Kit, are you done now?” Alistair asked. He was grumpier than usual because he really didn’t like crowded shops, wearing his scruffy jeans and his black jacket so he could pull the hood up and sulk.

“Almost, but I’ve said repeatedly, you don’t have to come.” Kit huffed. He loved going shopping with girls, but he hated shopping with Alistair.

“Yeah I do. I need to protect you.”

“From what? The shopping centre werewolves?” Kit rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know what’ll crop up,” Alistair mumbled. “Not werewolves. You clearly don’t know your lycan folklore.”

Kit groaned. “That’s not the point. My point is, I don’t need a bodyguard, and even if I did, Siofra is stronger than you. You hate shopping, there’s no reason for you to come.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Kit sighed in frustration. “Well, you’re choosing to come along, so you don’t get to complain.”

Alistair pretended to pout. “But there’s so much to complain about!”

Kit gave him an irritated look. “I’m serious. This is supposed to be a nice day with Siofra.”

“I was joking,” Alistair said. “You can just say if you don’t want me there.”

“Will you get offended if I say that?”

“No.” Yes.

Kit rolled his eyes. He knew better. “Come along, but if you start whining, I’m calling Taddy to take you home.”

“Okay,” Alistair said, brightening just a little. Kit didn’t make him stay home, that was enough to cheer him up. Kit just sighed dramatically, putting on his scarf and gloves and many coats before daring to leave the house. Though his cough had mostly cleared up, the cold outside air still made him wheeze. Alistair supervised this process, making sure Kit was adequately bundled.

When the boys made the trek down the stairs, Siofra was waiting outside the block of flats, with Finny sitting loyally at her feet. Alistair immediately cheered up, kneeling to greet him. Finny was equally excited, throwing his front paws on Alistair’s shoulders to bark and lick his face. Alistair laughed delightedly. “Hello, Finny! I missed you!”

Finny boofed in response, nearly tackling Alistair in his continued attempts to cuddle. Kit rolled his eyes, but Siofra grinned. She had deliberately brought Finny to distract their inevitable third wheel. She met Kit’s eyes, and he nodded gratefully. Alistair was none the wiser - it might hit him later on tonight, and he’d feel indignant, but now he only had eyes for Finny. Siofra ‘generously’ offered him the leash. He took it at once, beaming, genuinely believing she was being kind.

Kit took Siofra's newly-free hand, and they headed off towards the shopping centre at his admittedly slow pace. She didn't seem bothered, telling him about the hike she'd gone on last weekend - she and Riagan had trekked Ockley to Leith Hill, which sounded terrifying to Kit, even in fairer weather, but he listened loyally as she rambled.

“I'd offer to take ya sometime, but you're not exactly… outdoorsy.” Siofra laughed.

Kit shook his head. “I know, it's alright. That was always more Al's thing than mine.”

“What was my thing?” Alistair called back. He’d gone dashing ahead with Finny.

“Going outside.” Kit said, “Like into nature, not just out of the house.”

“Oh yeah, I like that. As long as there’s no people.”

Siofra snorted. “Well, yeah, that’s half the point of goin’ out. Get away from all the bustlin’ crowds ‘o idiots.”

“Definitely,” Alistair mumbled, petting Finny. The dog licked his hand before walking ahead to sniff a tree. Siofra went back to talking to just Kit.

It took almost an hour to reach the shopping centre, but Kit and Siofra were still chattering away when they approached the first store. Kit was so absorbed in a story he was telling, Siofra had to tug his arm to keep him from smacking into the doorway. She rolled her eyes. “You’ve got the survival skills of a dodo bird.”

“I’m not that bad.” Kit huffed. “I’m not extinct.”

Siofra fought the urge to snark back, knowing she couldn’t let him know what Alistair had told her. She settled on, “That’s sheer fuckin’ luck from the look of it.”

“That is correct,” Alistair said.

Kit just huffed again, leading her to the women’s formalwear section of the shop. “Come on, we’re looking for dresses.”

“What sort of dresses do you like, Siofra?”

“I like bright colours. Blue an’ green usually look good, black is easy. Somethin’ that makes my tits look nice, nips in at the waist.” She replied, looking at a deep blue gown on a mannequin before shaking her head. “Colour’s nice, but it’s just a shiny tube. Might look nice on a real skinny girl.” Suddenly, an idea made her snort. “Kit, you try it on.”

Kit’s face flared red. “I’d rather not.”

“He’s not trying it on,” Alistair said firmly. He knew Siofra didn’t know about the Dress Incident, but it still rankled.

Siofra drew back a little. “Jeez, okay. It was a joke. C’mon, let’s just look around.”

“Sorry,” Alistair muttered quietly, but he didn’t offer an explanation. Kit was just glad to be distracted by dressed, guiding Siofra over to an emerald dress with a low-cut top and a full, flared skirt.

“What do you think of this?”

“It’s nice. Little plain, though. If it’s gonna be long, I want somethin’ to be happenin’, ya know?” Siofra mused. “Is there anythin’ with lace? I like lace dresses. It’s like ‘I’m pretty, an’ I’m fancy, but I still fuck.’ Y’know?”

Kit laughed, “I don’t, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“You’re a weird girl, Siofra,” Alistair said, grinning.

“So are you.” She grinned back, turning to examine a deep purple dress with a patterned bodice. Kit came to look with her.

“This fabric is lovely.”

“Yea, looks like it might get warm, though.” Siofra said. “Don’t wanna sweat too much while I’m dancin’.”

Kit paused; he was always cold, he hadn’t even thought of that. “Oh… you’re right. You want something lighter, then?”

Siofra nodded. “Yea. Some’o these are nice, but I wanna look around more. Nothin’s speakin’ to me yet.”

Alistair didn’t join in the conversation much. He mooched around swishing the skirts of mannequins and making shoes dance on his hands and generally worrying the staff as they watched him mess with things. Finny, ironically, was well-behaved the entire time, just padding quietly at his side. Eventually, Kit and Siofra gave up, leaving the store to explore another. Alistair sighed to Finny. “They’ll be at this all day.”

Finny let out a dog sigh. Kit and Siofra were already ducking into another store that had stunning gowns on the mannequins. Kit was pondering outfits, and after a moment he asked, “How do you feel about red?”

“I like a good red. Red is a sexy colour.” Siofra said, winking at him.

Kit grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He’d had a vision of him, hair freshly dyed, red accoutrements paired with a sleek black suit, gold jewelry on top of it all, and Siofra, in a matching red gown and gold accessories.

“You got an idea?” She asked, “You’re makin’ a thinkin’ face.”

Kit nodded. “Come on, let’s find a red dress you like.”

Siofra followed him through the store, gathering up several gowns in varying shades from wine to crimson. Alistair sighed and made scarlet woman jokes, picking at his hangnails. Finny nosed his leg while Siofra smuggled Kit into the dressing room with her. Alistair raised his eyebrows, squatting down and shaking Finny’s paw. “Honestly, Kit is so blooming fancy he won’t answer the door in pyjamas, but I bet he’s getting up to stuff in there with Siofra. Gross. I hope they buy the clothes and don’t just put them back.”

If Alistair actually thought about it, he would’ve known Kit was just in there giving Siofra input on the dresses and helping her try them on. They went through about eight gowns, but all they really figured out was what they didn’t like.

Sequins look too cheap.

The short skirt is too casual… and a little slutty.

That wine colour is too dark, and cool. It doesn’t quite suit you.

Narrow skirts aren’t very flattering to your shape.

These rhinestones don’t look that elegant up close.

Eventually, they came back out, dumping all eight dresses on the reject rack. Despite the seeming failure, both Kit and Siofra had a fire in their eyes.

“To the next store?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yup. Finny, come on!” The dog stood up, tugging Alistair along after his owner.

“You two look like you’re going to war,” Alistair said, running to keep up.

“To war with tacky dresses!” Siofra yelled. She was practically lifting Kit so she could run faster, but he was still out of breath by the time they got to the next boutique.

“Siofra, be careful with him,” Alistair called, as if Kit was his premature newborn.

“I’m fine, Al.” Kit mumbled, but he was wheezing as they walked into the shop.

“Siofra, he needs to rest a minute.”

She paused in the doorway, looking around and finding a cushioned bench to deposit Kit on. “I need to piss anyway. I’ll be back. You figure out how to breathe.”

Kit nodded, waving as she walked off. Alistair sat beside him, rubbing his back. “You alright?”

“Just tired.” Kit sighed, running a hand through his hair. His chest was still heaving, and he let out a tiny wheeze with every exhale.

Alistair bit his lip. “Your chest still sounds bad.”

“It always does, this time of year. Fucked up from years of pneumonia.” Kit mumbled, leaning on the back of the bench. “I should've brought water.”

“Want me to go buy some?”

“Would you?” Kit took out his wallet, handing Alistair a crisp fifty pound note.

Alistair grinned at it. “Yeah, I’ll buy it. With this fifty.”

Kit rolled his eyes. “Just keep the change. I don’t have anything smaller.”

“Course not,” Alistair said fondly, leading Finny to a smaller shop selling health food and fruity drinks. “Wait there.”

Kit, of course, stayed put, out of exhaustion as much as obedience, while Finny sniffled curiously at the shelves of the shop. Alistair found water easily enough, pulling a face at Finny. “Lots of gross food in here…”

The dog didn’t seem as bothered, nosing at anything he could reach. The shop owner was giving Alistair a less-than-delighted look. Alistair quickly paid, getting even more evils for using a fifty. He returned to Kit at nearly the same time Siofra did, and Kit stood, taking the water and following Siofra through the maze of racks in search of a suitable dress.

They had settled on a few details already, bypassing anything that wasn’t voluminous and bright red. Eventually they narrowed it down to three: two strapless, one with a fluffy chiffon skirt and sparkling floral bodice, and one all satin, with a nipped waist and shimmery detailing around the top; the third had off-the shoulder sleeves, with floral appliques adorning the translucent sleeves, the bodice, and the outer chiffon of the skirt.

Siofra seemed satisfied with their choices, tugging Kit towards the dressing room. “Alright, come on Christina, I need help with my zippers.” She gestured for Alistair to follow. “You, too, Alyssa. Ya don’t hafta come in, but ya hafta at least look at me in each one.”

Alistair sighed, but he did actually want to see the dresses, so he let “Alyssa” slide - though it did annoy him that the sales assistant let him through into the changing room without a second glance, clearly believing him to be Siofra’s dumpy little sister. He was allowed to sit on a bench outside the row of stalls, while Siofra and Kit disappeared into a cubicle to try on the first dress. There was a bit of stumbling, grumbling, and mumbling about “stupid fuckin’ zippers halfway up my arse,” but before long, Siofra stepped out to model the dress.

It certainly wasn’t an ugly dress, but the floral pattern on the bodice tapered up and inward over the cleavage, featuring Siofra’s strong shoulders and completely concealing her breasts. “Fuck me, I look like a bloody drag queen!” She huffed, glaring at the full-length mirror on the open door of her changing stall.

Alistair laughed hard. “Go in that one!”

“You wear it if ya like it so much. I intend to show up lookin’ decent.” Siofra rolled her eyes, pondering whether Alistair might actually fit in the same dress as her. It would be close - he definitely wasn’t too tall or muscular - but she decided he was too squishy in the middle to fit in anything cinched at the waist. After another moment glaring in the mirror, she closed herself back in the stall so Kit could help her change dresses.

“Why does chiffon have so many fuckin’ layers?” She grumbled, “It’s like wearin’ a hoopskirt made’o bloomin’ candyfloss!”

Kit chuckled, “It’s for volume. Take away all the layers, and this is a boring A-line.”

Siofra rolled her eyes. “I know why. It’s just a pain. Come on, let’s get the other fluffy one over with.” She snatched the off-the-shoulder dress off its hanger, pulling it over her head with Kit’s assistance. Though the back opened wide with the zipper, she had no hope of stepping into anything with her hips. The sleeves were a bit snug near the top - dresses weren’t typically made with muscle in mind - but she liked the cut of the bodice better. She swung the door open so Alistair could see.

“Well, at least this one shows off my tits,” Siofra mused, “but I’m afraid if I lift my arms, I’m gonna rip these flimsy sleeves off like She-hulk.”

“Better body, but you look like Popeye with those arms,” Alistair said.

“Well maybe if the sleeves weren’t cut for Olive Oyl, it wouldn’t look so bad.” Siofra grumbled, swishing her hips in the mirror before closing the stall door again. “Fuck this fluffy bicep prison.”

Kit was snickering again as he helped her out of it. “Do you want to bother with the last one? I’m not sure this shop really styles for your body type.”

Siofra shrugged, throwing the heap of chiffon and fabric roses at him to hang back up. “Might as well, I’m already in my knickers.” She’d discarded her bra for the trying-on, since the straps would be awkwardly exposed. Kit hung and set aside the second rejected dress, unzipping the last one and helping Siofra pull it over her head.

“I like the material of this one.” He remarked, running a hand over the cherry satin as he zipped her into it. “Very sleek, elegant.”

“Ooh, this one makes my tits look great!” Siofra grinned in the mirror. She wasn’t wrong - the bodice had a slight dip between the breasts, and the glittering red stones around the top drew even more attention to her chest. Kit nodded, stepping out of the way so she could open the door.

Alistair was already snorting with laughter. He adopted Kit’s plummy accent. “Very sleek and elegant.” Then he switched to Siofra’s Irish lilt. “Cor, don’t my tits look great!”

“Your tits look terrible, actually. You should get a more supportive bra.” She grinned at him.

“Har har. That dress is nice though. Tits and all.”

“Yeah, I like this one.” Siofra nodded, “Skirt’s way more comfortable, too. An’ it looks expensive. I like that.” She swished her hips in the mirror, causing her dress and her curls to sway. Finny gave an approving bark.

Kit seemed excited. He hadn’t expected to find a dress they’d like so soon. “Do you want that one, then?”

Siofra shrugged. “Sure, yeah. I like it. I look hot in it. Why not?”

Kit nodded, bustling the other two dresses out to the reject rack while Siofra posed in the mirror. “Should we start looking for accessories, then?”

“Let’s just buy this an’ go. I had to walk through purses to get to the loo, the selection here is shit.” Siofra said, ducking back into the stall to put her own clothes on. Dress in hand, she and Kit walked to the checkout.

Alistair stood up and trailed after them, sighing heavily. “God, is everything going to take so long? Shoes and purses and flipping rings…”

“The jewelry will probably be easiest, actually.” Kit replied. “Most of the time, necklaces have matching earrings and bracelets and so on. Do you want to do that first?” He asked Siofra, “There’s a lovely jeweller right down this way.” He gestured towards a row of shops.

“Sure, yeah.” Siofra nodded. “I don’t wear earrings, though, so don’t get excited about that.” She warned him. Kit didn’t seem bothered, and they discussed metals and gems while they waited in line at the register. By the time the dress was handed back in a sleek shopping bag, they had already settled on rose gold and rubies. Kit was babbling excitedly as they walked to the jeweller.

“Most of my jewelry is yellow gold, just because it’s more widely available. I didn’t really like rose gold when it first came into style, but I warmed up to it a few years ago. I think it will look lovely on you, especially with your hair.”

Siofra let him talk, listening and nodding as they walked into the store. She was a little out of her element now; her idea of expensive jewelry was the department store - this place looked like a dragon’s hoard. “I hope you know what to look for, cause I’m lost.” She mumbled.

Kit nodded. “I saw an ad for one of their collections a few months back, follow me.” He led her to a lovely array of rose-gold jewelry, set with a variety of gems to show what the shop had to offer. There were only a few bracelets, but the necklaces and earrings were more numerous, and nearly a third of the case was taken up with mannequin hands modeling rings. “They can set any stone in the piece you like.” He explained, letting Siofra examine the case herself. She was trying not to gawk, but couldn’t help staring at the jewels oozing from the pinkish metal.

“Bloody hell… what’s my budget?”

Kit laughed. “You don’t have a budget. Pick what you like. As much as you like.”

Siofra turned to stare at him, more awestruck than ever. “You’re joking.”

“Why would I be?” Kit shrugged. “My father is making me go to this stupid party. I might as well waste his money making you look nice for it.” He was eyeing the earrings himself, wanting to coordinate his own jewelry with whatever Siofra chose.

Alistair attempted to entertain himself by trying to find the most expensive thing in the store, continually getting distracted by the prices. He’d still had money when he was old enough to be able to buy stuff for himself, but he’d never been one for fancy jewellery like this. He was more of the skull-ring-from-Hot-Topic type back then. Finny was interested too - he liked the sparkly things, and pressed his nose against the glass trying to look closer.

Alistair grinned at him. “Shame you don’t have fingers. But we can get you a necklace,” he laughed. “You’re getting nose marks on the glass.”

Finny gave a low ruff. He seemed to like the idea of his own shiny accessory. The sales girl giggled at them. “We do custom collars and dog tags on request.”

Alistair brightened. “Want a sparkly collar? Then I can take you to the Pride Parade.”

Finny barked again, and the sales girl went to a shelf, picking out a book to show Alistair while her coworker helped Kit and Siofra. She laid it out, opening to a page of thick glittery chains, as well as varying fabric and leather bands that could be stoned and studded. Alistair held the book out like he was showing Finny too, ignoring the amused look he got from the girl. “Are you a glitter or a leather boy?”

Finny snuffled at a picture of a bright blue band, adorned with gold studs and white stones. Perhaps it was sheer chance that he’d reacted to that picture, but Alistair nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good one.”

“Do you know what size band you would need?” The girl asked.

“Siofra!” Alistair called. “What size band does Finny wear?”

Siofra set down the ring she'd been trying on, turning to look incredulously at Alistair. “What?”

“Oh, Finny wants a fancy collar. Don’t worry, I assure you Kit has spent money on more useless shit than this.”

“He wants it?” Siofra asked, trying not to smirk too hard.

“Yeah, he was snuffling the page.” Alistair looked completely serious.

Siofra chuckled. “Um, I usually get ‘im an extra-large when I buy collars. A large might fit, but I worry ‘cause’o all the fur.”

“Extra-large,” Alistair told the girl. He didn’t want to risk getting a tight one.

She nodded. “And did you want all studs, or studs and diamonds?” She pointed to the different options in the book.

“The diamonds… They look pretty.”

The clerk checked a box on a form she’d pulled out. “And you wanted the deep blue?”

“He wants that, yeah,” Alistair said, nodding at Finny. The dog barked happily. Siofra rolled her eyes at them, turning back to her own counter to try on more rings. Alistair ruffled Finny’s fur as he got the collar sorted with the girl, rubbing the soft part behind his ears. Finny tilted his head, tail flapping happily.

The clerk finished typing the order into the register, looking back to Alistair. “Custom orders usually take two to four weeks to complete. Your down payment will be £1200.”

“You fuckin’ what?” Siofra spun back around to stare at Alistair and the girl.

“Kit.” Alistair didn’t even blink. “Credit card. Please.” The older boy pulled out his wallet and passed it to Alistair without looking up from the ruby earrings he was considering. Siofra was staring at them both like they’d just turned into dinosaurs.

Alistair held up the card, raising his eyebrows at Siofra. “Nice, isn’t it? I could do this once. Buy stupid shit I don’t even need. It was cool. Now I have to dig down the back of the sofa for the bus fare.”

Siofra snorted. “Yeah, that’s university for ya.” She was looking at Kit, and how casually he shoved aside a set of earrings to ask for a pair with more diamonds. “Is it still a sugar daddy if I’m older?”

“What would be the younger version? A sugar son? Yuck. And what is he to me? I’m not banging him.” Alistair never did have any awareness of his language in a posh shop. The clerk was giving him a weird look, and awkwardly cleared her throat.

“Ahem, sir? The down payment?”

“Oh yeah.” He handed the card over. She scanned it and handed it back, along with a receipt to sign. He scrawled his untidy signature and gave Kit the card back. Kit stuck it in his breast pocket, knowing he'd need it again once he and Siofra picked everything out. She had gathered a pile of glittering rings, along with a matching pendant and tennis bracelet. He was still waffling between pairs of earrings, trying to decide how to arrange everything - the bane of having ten piercings in each ear.

Alistair was soon bored again, sitting on the floor with Finny and sighing heavily. The dog climbed into his lap and mimicked his sigh. That made Alistair laugh a bit, rubbing between Finny’s ears. Finny licked his face and Siofra grinned at them. “You can take 'im outside. 'e probably needs the loo anyway.”

“Thank god. I’m losing my mind in here,” Alistair mumbled, easing Finny off his lap and getting up. “Come on, Finny.”

Finny climbed to his feet, bounding for the door. He was eager to get outside, too. Alistair ran through the shopping centre with him, laughing when all the posh people gave them dirty looks. He felt like a teenager for a moment. Finny pulled Alistair through the crowd, weaving deftly through the clusters of people. They burst out onto the street together, and Alistair walked Finny up and down the high street, letting him stop to pee. The dog quickly selected a tree and did his business before tugging Alistair down the street.

Alistair let Finny lead him submissively. “Where are we going then?”

Finny just continued to run down the street. Alistair started floundering after a few minutes. “Finny, I don’t think I’ve gone running since PE at school… And even then I’d bunk off and sit in the bogs.”

Finny stopped pulling Alistair along, instead electing to run circles around his legs. Alistair laughed, dragging him to a bench. “Come here…” The dog followed him dutifully and sat by his feet. Alistair gave his lap a pat. “You can sit right up here.” Finny hopped up at once, his fuzzy butt resting on Alistair’s legs. Alistair hugged him happily, completely swamped in dog fur. Finny was content to sit like that until Alistair’s phone buzzed. It was Kit.

We’re going to look for shoes. Do you want to come with or stay out with Finny?

Alistair pulled a face. I’ll come. Where are you?

By the food court. Siofra was hungry. Do you want anything?

Do they have those fancy donuts? The Krispy Kreme ones?

Yeah, what do you want?

Just get that really chocolaty looking one with the crumbly topping.

Alright. Kit didn't bother asking what his cousin wanted to drink - he'd already bought Alistair a hot chocolate when he was getting himself a chai tea. Meet us by the Krispy Kreme.

Okay. Don’t touch anything strawberry flavoured.

Wasn’t on the agenda. Kit rolled his eyes. As if he was the one who forgot about his allergy, when Alistair had never told Julius about it and nearly poisoned his cousin as a result. He was still grumbling to Siofra about it when Alistair came up to meet them, Finny in tow.

“Did you two buy what you wanted then?” he asked.

“We did.” Kit waved the tea in his right hand, offering Alistair the donut and hot chocolate in his left. Siofra just nodded. Her arms were weighted with bags holding her dress and jewelry, and her hands and mouth were busy with a carton of inauthentic but deliciously greasy Chinese food.

“Only one donut?” Alistair said, taking the drinks and food with a grin. It was an old, old joke between them, back when Alistair was still a little pudgy five year old. He’d always insist he could manage several desserts.

“Yes, because you don’t have a change of clothes.” Kit smirked.

“Ha ha. So you’re going shoe shopping next? Are you getting those fancy ones with the red insides or whatever it is?”

Kit rolled his eyes. “I already have a pair of Louboutins that will match my outfit. We’re finding shoes to go with Siofra’s dress, and hopefully a matching clutch.”

“A clutch? Oh! One of those stupid little purses?”

“It's not stupid.” Kit rolled his eyes. “It's small, so it can hold necessities like a wallet and keys, but it isn't a huge bulky thing that's in your way all night. It's an evening bag.”

“I remember them! Remember when we were kids and that Lord’s daughter - Arabella, was it? - hit me over the head with her clutch? So I tied her pigtails to the door handle and slammed it shut,” Alistair giggled.

Kit didn't seem as amused. “You're leaving out an important detail. She hit you because you were flailing around by the refreshments, hit her punch, and spilled it all over her dress.”

Siofra snorted. “Always been a charmer, huh?”

Alistair stuck his tongue out at Siofra. “She didn’t have to hit me, did she? I’d have said sorry for spilling her punch if she hadn’t, and the whole clutch-and-pigtail drama could have been avoided.”

“You also could've been dancing on the dance floor, instead of endangering innocent people seeking refreshments.” Kit pointed out. He spotted a shoe store and walked inside, Siofra in tow. Finny pulled Alistair along, following sedately, while Alistair glared at anyone who gave them funny looks.

Kit and Siofra went immediately to the high heels, looking at the array of shiny shoes on the shelf

“We definitely want something red or rose gold. I know your skirt is long, but it you lift it, the shoes ought to match.”

“They've also gotta fit,” Siofra reminded him. “Most gals have smaller feet than me. See what they've got in a 9.5. I can do a 9 or an 8.5 if it's open-toed.”

Kit sighed. “Well, that certainly limits our options.” He started exploring the shelves, but found little more than a generic gold sandal. After a good ten minutes of scouring, he shook his head and stalked out of the store. “This place is useless.”

“We’d be fine if it wasn’t for her troll feet,” Alistair snorted. Siofra kicked him in the shin as she walked by.

“Shove my troll foot up your arse if you don't watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

“Ow! Get her, Finny,” Alistair urged. The dog just barked cheerfully and kept walking. Alistair rolled his eyes, letting Finny drag him after Siofra. “So where to now? How many shoe shops can be in one big shopping centre?”

Siofra looked at him for a moment, then back to Kit. “Is ‘e actually that stupid, or does ‘e really just never go outside unless ‘e’s followin’ you like a needy puppy?”

Kit shrugged. “Bit of both.” He said, leading the group into another shoe shop.

“I’m not the needy puppy when you’re koala hugging me all night,” Alistair grumbled.

“You’re the one who insists I stay at yours.” Kit replied, not even looking up from the high heels he was examining. The pair he was looking at were actually quite pretty - bright red pumps with narrow laces attaching them at the ankle. Each lace had shiny gold aglets and the heel was tall and thin. Siofra looked at them approvingly, selecting a pair in her size to try on.

“These are cute.”

“They’re basic.” Kit replied flatly. “This style is popular right now. Five girls at any given nightclub are wearing this shoe in one colour or another. You’re not a vapid parasite looking for a face to suck. You’re an exquisite guest at an exquisite event.”

Siofra snorted, amused but also taken aback. “Damn, okay. Maybe save for them for a backup at least?”

“If you like them.” Kit shrugged.

Alistair held Finny’s leash out in a lordly fashion and stuck his nose in the air. “You’re an exquisite quest at an exquisite event, my darling,” he said in Kit’s posh accent. “We must have your own shoes cobbled for you by the finest craftsmen out of gold and marble, studded with pearls fresh from the ocean. We can’t have common shoes on my precious carpets, oh heavens no.”

Kit rolled his eyes at his cousin. “Why don’t you go piss on a tree with Finny? That seems more like your kind of activity.”

“Oh, aren’t we funny. He’s already pissed. I want to see what shoes old Hobbit Feet gets anyway.”

“Who the hell are you talkin’ to about shoes?” Siofra asked, “I saw glittery pink trainers in your wardrobe.”

“I didn’t buy those! They were fucking hand-me-downs from Toby’s sister,” Alistair grumbled. “I don’t have rich parents to fund me anymore. You know how expensive shit is? It’s awful!”

“So you fit in Toby’s sister’s shoes, and you’re givin’ me shit for my shoe size?”

“Maybe she had gigantic feet too, you don’t know!”

“I saw the shoes.” Siofra grinned. “She didn’t.”

“Didn’t you know that posh folk are known for their dainty feet?” Alistair declared, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Then why are Kit’s shoes bigger than mine? He’s the daintiest of the three of us by far.”

Kit spun around; he’d been busy scrutinizing shoes and not listening to the others. “What?”

“They are? Kit, what’s your shoe size?”

“...good question.” Kit sat down on one of the little benches, lifting his foot to check the number on the sole. “10.5. Why?”

“That’s huge!”

“I mean, I said the same thing, but not about his feet.” Siofra grinned. Kit went red, but he laughed so hard, he snorted.

“Gross! I don’t want to hear about that!” Alistair cried, blushing too.

Siofra just laughed. “Stop talkin’ about my feet, an’ I’ll stop talkin’ about his dick.” She turned to look at a pair of gold pumps, trying to gauge whether they were too yellowy.

“Are those the one?”

“Mm, no.” Siofra had pulled out one of her rings to compare the colour. “I kinda wanted a red shoe, anyway. Red pumps are sexy as fuck.”

“Alright, Dorothy. Clicking your heels will be useful at our place, you’ll get to leave early.”

“Actually, in the book, Dorothy had silver shoes. They changed them to red to show up better on-screen.” Kit chimed in.

“I don’t really remember the book. You read it to me when we were kids.”

“I remember. You called my mum Glinda and yours the Wicked Witch, and got sent to your room for the night.” Kit rolled his eyes.

Alistair snorted. “Don’t tell me that wasn’t genius. And true. And your mum bought me fake fairy wings and I got upset when I couldn’t fly with them.”

Kit just shook his head. “I remember.” He went back to looking at shoes, glaring at a ruby pump that had a nice colour but a slightly squatty heel. “This shop is just as bad as the last.”

“What exactly is wrong with that shoe?” Alistair asked.

“The heels are too short, and wide. It's not elegant. Not to mention, it would look pitifully small on someone as tall as Siofra. That heel height might work proportionately for someone Julie's size, but even then, it's unflatteringly thick.”

“Maybe we could buy them for Jules. He has to climb on the countertop to reach shit from the back of the cupboard.”

Siofra snorted and Kit rolled his eyes. “If I'm going to buy Julie heels, they'll be attractive.”

“He has really fucking small feet. Like, comically tiny.”

“He could probably fit both feet in one'o Kit's shoes.” Siofra grinned.

“And have room to spare,” Alistair agreed.

“My feet are not that big!” Kit cried.

“I was making fun of Jules’s feet that time. It’s no fun when he’s not here to hear it.”

Kit rolled his eyes. “Loving fiance you are.’

“Shut up, I am. If I gushed about him all day you’d feel awkward, right?”

“I'd feel annoyed.” Kit corrected.

“Well, either way. And for the record, I like his stupid small feet. They’re cute and ridiculous,” Alistair said.

“You're just ridiculous.” Kit huffed. “Come on, let's try another shop. This place is a disappointment.”

“Ugh, how many more?”

“However many it takes to find good shoes.” Kit replied. Siofra just chuckled, gesturing for Finny to come along..

“I can’t believe people enjoy this. I’m bored and hot and my feet ache and this place is full of other humans.” He pulled a face, like other people were the equivalent of sewer rats.

“This is why I said you didn’t have to come.” Kit reminded him, “And that is why I said if you did come, I’d send you home if you complained.”

“I have to look after you!” Alistair huffed. “I’m practically your carer. I should be receiving benefits for this.”

“First off, I pay for anything you ask for. Second off, we already discussed that Siofra can take care of me just as well.”

“You know I’m not being serious, Kit. And yes, Siofra is fine and responsible and strong, blah blah blah, but you’re my cousin. I’d worry about you.”

Kit groaned. “You should worry about my sanity if you keep whining. For Chrissakes, Finny is being more cooperative than you, and he doesn’t even know what the hell we’re doing!”

“I’ll bet he does. He’s a clever dog.”

“Okay, so the dog is smarter and more cooperative. Good for him. You still need to stop whining.” Kit said.

“Only if you stop bitching.”

“What am I bitching about?!” Kit cried.

“Me.”

“The only thing I’m bitching about is your bitching!” Kit’s face was going red, and he looked close to popping a blood vessel. “You agreed to not complain when you insisted on coming with us!”

“Kit, calm down,” Alistair mumbled, looking almost unnerved. “What’s wrong with you? I’m not being serious.”

The older boy deflated, his voice wobbly with frustration. “Then why are you seriously trying to drive me insane?” His eyes flickered between Alistair and Siofra and the crowd around them, afraid to say more in such a public setting. Though the cup in his hand was still half-full, he mumbled something about wanting another tea and walked off towards the food court. Siofra sighed and rolled her eyes.

Alistair looked equally upset, mumbling something about taking Finny to pee despite the dog having just been. He went off in the other direction. Now Siofra looked properly peeved, stalking after Alistair and grabbing his collar. “Oi! You don’t get to just kidnap my dog.”

“Get off me!” He yelled it way too loudly for a public place indoors, but his voice was thick, like he had a bad cold. The people nearby gave him weird looks, but Siofra just seemed like an annoyed big sister, so nobody gave them a second glance.

“Then gimme my fuckin’ dog, an’ I’ll go find your idiot cousin myself.” Siofra kept a stony grip on his jumper, holding a hand out for Finny’s leash. Alistair handed it over at once, keeping his face turned away.

“Now get off.”

“Gladly.” Siofra dropped his collar, wiping the now-free hand on her jeans. “You go cry while I fix your fuck-up.”

“Fuck you,” Alistair spat, clenching his fists. He kept his back to her though, hoping he might be able to pretend he wasn’t near tears later if she couldn’t actually see him welling up.

“Go annoy someone else, why don’t ya?” Siofra rolled her eyes and walked off in the direction Kit had gone.

#misadventures of Kit #chapter twenty-five #angst #drama of the big gay #kit #raycraft #siofra #rafferty #alistair #ocsickficsideblog #collab

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amm-loover · 6 years

Text

SUPER LONG KO/TKO CHARACTER ANALYSIS POST THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR (part 1)

Hey guys so can we talk about KO/TKO for a bit?

So remember when TKO first showed up in the appropriately titled episode TKO.

So in this episode, TKO is revealed to have always been a part of KO. He was just little blob of negative energy and even then he was in a cage.

Weather KO realizes it or not, he has been forcing his negative emotions deep down inside him for what we can assume is his whole life.

The fact the when KO was finally pushed to his breaking point by Shadowy Figure to the point where it manifested his negativity into an entirely separate being able to take control of the body speaks volumes to me.

But if we take a closer look at things, That means KO has been angry all this time and hasn’t had a healthy outlet for his frustration, all this time. Meaning, TKO hasn’t had a healthy outlet all this time, not to mention he was trapped in a cage like an animal on top of it all.

When TKO challenges Rad and Enid to a power battle, he states “I told you, it’s T.K.O.. And I’m a whole different animal now.“

Honestly, i think that line says more than what it sounds like. TKO has been trapped in that cage, like an animal, for so long, that he considers himself to be an animal, even when he is free, he still identifies as an animal, just an animal that is no longer caged.

Now before we talk about all the violent things TKO has done, let’s talk about the non violent things he has done.

In his debut episode, TKO finally came to be and is told to go show his friends his new power.

When he gets to the scene Enid and Rad are obviously in deep trouble.

TKO swoops in and saves the day, absolutely obliterating the huge Darrell.

Even if it was for the selfish purpose of showing off, I don’t think that’s all it was.

One of the things that caused TKO to even come out of KO’s mind was Rad, Enid, and Mr.Gar’s words.

“Power isn’t everything, at least you’re cute”

“Good hustle kid”

“You’ll catch up to us someday...or not”

Now with as angry as TKO gets later in the episode from simply being called cute by Enid again, why wasn’t he angry enough to attack them right there?

No seriouly. TKO was very mad and was told to go show his friends how powerful he’s always been. Not show them your power by saving them from Darrell.

Honestly if TKO is really so hostile and careless as he is shown to be later within the same episode, why didn’t he just attack Rad and Enid right there?

After he defeats Darrell and ushers his new name, TKO goes home. With his mom. Yet another person who triggered him to even manifest in the first place.

In KO/TKO’s words “Mom said hard work will make me strong, but it hasn’t!”

Meaning he is also mad at her for “wasting his time” Just as he is mad at Shadowy Figure for sort of doing the same thing, saying “You said getting mad at my friends would work, but it hasn’t!”

Like, KO/TKO was willing to believe in his mother’s advice, after all he went along with it for a while, but he became so impatient with his mother’s way of training that he was willing to get mad at his friends, which he clearly didn’t want to do in the freaking first place.

Now back to Carol, If TKO was ready to beat up his own mother at the plaza in the episode’s nearing climax, what the frick was keeping him so chill?

Like FOR A FULL DAY!?

TKO, an actual manifestation of negativity and anger decided against fighting his friends and mother so he could go home with his mom, presumably eat dinner with her, record a video on KO’s video channel (as shown in the episode KO’s Video Channel) go to sleep, and wake up the next morning and then the meanest thing he does then is take her eyeliner without asking. (and then he yelled at her when she was in the background of his video so i guess that’s pretty mean too)

And when Carol asks about it, TKO just calmly says “I don’t feel like talking right now” and casually turns up his metal music. And the Carol turns it down. Now you’d think TKO would get mad at that little action. Like “Ugh! MOM! I want to listen to my music louder!” But no, he just lets her turn it down and continues to look out the window while she drives him to work.

AND THAT’S ANOTHER THING!!! WHY THE HECK IS TKO EVEN BOTHERING TO GO TO WORK AT ALL?!

Like based on the personality we have been shown so far, why wouldn’t TKO wanna stay at home and be his edgy self, maybe re-record his video diary in privacy or do his nails and make-up and dress in black and listen to his music loud and break a few things. Why is he going to work?

And why is he like, for real doing the work? Albeit, haphazardly but doing it nonetheless.

And honestly, it super clear that TKO not only doesn’t want to be bothered but also doesn't really wanna bother others anyway. He ultimately just wants some space. Like any edgy child/teen.

I mean, he’s not even really mean to Enid and Rad. Maybe a little rude, but not really mean. He manages to hold a conversation with Enid, correcting her on his name, answering her question, and yeah he insults her by calling her a “wage slave” but he probably felt insulted since she called his answer to a question she asked “dramatic”. TKO was probably thinking: “You insult my world view, fine, I insult who you are.”

And yeah he ignores Rad, who is obviously trying to impress him, but TKO wasn’t impressed. If you think about it, TKO could have made fun of him or something but he didn’t he chose to ignore.

And like I said, TKO clearly had no intentions of doing anything particularly bad that day. It looks like he just wants to get through the day. That’s probably why he came to work, he just wants an excuse to fight another robot. Might as well occupy himself while he waits i guess.

I mean look at him. He is 100% chill and clearly wants to be left alone.

And then Rad and Enid come in and ruin his whole little mojo.

Now I know Enid and Rad are just trying to be good friends, they think KO is in some sort of Funk™ and they wanna cheer him up. And they do a sort of good job at trying, but during this, TKO is clearly struggling to get out of Rad’s arms. (honestly in my opinion, they should've took that as a hint and really leave him alone)

But that’s yet another thing! TKO, you know how strong you are. You DESTROYED the giant bomb Darrell bot in a single slash! And he was made of metal! Surely you know you are perfectly capable of getting out of Rad’s fleshy grip.

He does know. He is 1000% aware that he can get out of that grip. But he also knows that if he does, it will probably hurt Rad.

Remember, when he was talking about his metaphorical pizza worldview thing? He said “so called friends”

Guys, TKO identifies Rad and Enid as his friends, even if they laugh at him.

KO really doesn’t wanna do anything, the upcoming outburst that he is about to have wasn’t his intention.

Eventually he even stops struggling when Enid begins to shove nachos in his face. Almost as if he’s just gonna let them be annoying. But then Enid had to go and call him....

“Cute stuff...”

Alright, so we all know what happens from this point. Enid’s final “cute” is the final straw for TKO’s temper. He finally breaks free from Rad’s grip (without a single frame of struggle.) and challenges his friends to a power battle.

As the power battle continues, TKO becomes more and more aggressive and almost like he’s a predator after his prey. And notice how Enid is his target. Both times when Rad steps in to help Enid fight, TKO gets rid of him really quickly and begins focusing on Enid again.

When Enid tells on him to Carol, notice he doesn’t attack right away, he just scoffs/growls like an angsty child/teen.

He doesn’t even really target Carol of anyone, he just starts being destructive on things.

Then Gar show’s up and says “I love your mom”, which manages to catch TKO off guard.

He is genuinely confused and he almost seemed ready to hear Mr.Gar out on the sudden topic but when Gar goes and changes the subject and starts spouting compliments at him.

Now while his compliments arent really lies? You can hear in Gar’s voice that he doesn’t fully mean what he is saying and he is clearly only saying to try an calm him down.

And we all know when people are really angry, that last thing you want to tell them is to calm down.

So then TKO just snaps, he’s had absolutely enough!

There��s a blind rush going through him right now, he’s never had the chance to let out all this pent up rage. It feels great! All his life he’s been caged and now he’s out. Who care’s if someone gets hurt! letting out these years of rage, proving once and for all that I am strong, stronger than everyone! It feels great!

Who’s next!

“any last words”

Then the episode ends with TKO getting put back in the cage after KO save his mom. Not the best idea..

Now, im not trying to say TKO is justified for trying to punch his his own mother, he obviously never wanted to. I’m just saying he had a lot of pent up rage and frustration and he was just a ticking time bomb of destructive emotion that was waiting to explode, waiting for someone to push that last button.

AKA: Enid’s “cute stuff” comment and Mr. Gar’s somewhat “empty praise”

This whole thing, in my opinion, was just the result of KO holing in his anger and frustration for all those years. If you do that, you are bound to become a toxic version of yourself sooner or later. And sooner or later that means you will hurt those you hold dear to you.

This also lets us know a little something about TKO.

He’s a person. Yes, he is a manifestation of rage, but he has interests outside of that. He enjoys his music and dark make up and he likes making video diaries just as much as the original KO. TKO is a person and deserves to be treated like one, after all he’s been through. Yeesh...

Now let’s move on to TKO’s second major appearance:

COMING SOON IN A PART 2 POST (honestly i can’t put all my thoughts in one post)

#ok ko let's be heroes #ko #ok ko tko #tko #ok ko enid #radicles #ok ko rad #ok ko carol #character analysis #ok ko character analysis

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