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#TIRED of having to explain to her that I didn't steal her art
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Obsession
I'm not a complicated woman, I swear.
I'm so boring.
I'm quiet. I live alone. I drink decaf. I file my taxes in January. I majored in art history.
I crochet, goddammit! I crochet cardigans, the most boring kind of sweater! And then I wear them! Like Mister Rogers, aka the plainest person to ever exist.
No one could possibly suspect how deeply weird I am.
I've been perfect. I've never left a browser history. I've never worn blue and red together. I've kept myself as trim as my mom's genes let me. No one's ever caught me watching the movie.
You know... the movie?
You know the movie.
Well, I mean, I guess it's "movies" now, but... I know which one left a violet stain on my soul.
You can't blame me.
Well... you certainly can't, anyway.
If you were me, maxed out on good karma, toeing every line you've ever met, perfectly alone in all the universe... what would you have done differently? What other choice was there?
Never mind how I got the chance. As soon as I found out about it, there was nothing else I could do. Everything I thought I knew about myself fell away. All the safe choices and good behavior just gone, poof, like they never existed. This is my fate, it was made for me.
I was always going to be the one chewing this stick of gum.
In the end, it was like they wanted me to find it.
Dodging through an unlocked door, stealing through low-lit corridors, drawn to it like the heartbeat of the universe.
It's so silly. I know it is. Some stray neutrino passed through my brain as a child, and I watched the wrong movie, and I twisted into whatever it is that I am. All I've wanted is to become something else, and that something is big, and round, and draped in the shreds of the last clothes she'll ever wear.
That last part is really important for reasons I just can't explain. All that matters is that I literally get too big for my britches. I just need to hear that little "pop". That's it.
I can never seem to imagine past that. Regardless, I'm putting the gum to my lips, completely, defiantly unaware of how this will end. It's on my tongue, and the flavor is unreal. I guess they didn't bother with the roast beef or anything. It's just violently fruity. Juicy, and warm, and way too sweet.
A door creaks open. I was so sure I wouldn't be found, but joke's on them. It's too late.
It's a mousy woman woman with huge glasses, wearing a lab coat. She peeks around the door before she enters, like she doesn't want to offend me.
"Oh-" she says.
"Um," I say around a mouthful of juice. "I-"
And then I think, hey, wait, I've made my choice. It doesn't matter how this ends! What's she going to do, save me? I'm in control here! Kind of!
"... um." I say again. Actually, it's hard to talk. I'm swallowing a lot of juice.
She steps all the way into the room.
"Uh, hi," she says, fiddling with her glasses. She looks at me, and then down at her clipboard, and then back to me. "Are you-"
"I'm not spitting it out," I say, before gulping down another burst of juice. I'm starting to feel kinda bloated.
"No, I mean. Um," she says, "sorry, I'm new here, um."
I'm tired of my mouth working so hard, so I make a show of swallowing the gum.
"Oh!" she says, "that was fast," and she makes some sort of mark on her clipboard.
What.
"Um, could you follow me this way, please?" she asks, gesturing toward another door I hadn't noticed. One of those big ones like they have on loading docks that roll upward.
"What?" I ask, reflexively.
She walks over and pushes a big red button on the wall. The door starts lifting.
"Oh, sorry, we can wait if you want," she says, "you'll fit, don't worry."
I start to have a thought, but then my stomach gurgles and I feel like I'm on an elevator going down. I clutch my sides and double over, but... it's getting hard to bend.
"Don't worry," she says again, "it just feels weird, but you'll be okay."
The thought comes back. Someone was expecting this. They're prepared for this.
I look back at the pedestal the gum was resting on. It's already been replaced with another piece.
The worst feeling in the world is thinking you're making a defiant last stand, only to find out that the hill you chose to die on was ready-made for your dramatic exit, and that you'll be asked to leave through the gift shop and pay way too much for the photos they take of you. You know, figuratively.
I have to do something they won't see coming.
I turn around and lunge for the new piece of gum. Or, at least, I try to lunge, but my thighs are filling up and it's getting difficult to move dramatically. Still, I grab it and cram it in my mouth. Might as well be a brat.
"Oh!" she chirps again, and makes another mark on her clipboard. "Wow! So-"
God, I'm feeling so full. I can feel every inch of my clothes pulling taut against my skin. I gave in to temptation and wore a blue top, blue jeans, and a red belt. I couldn't help myself. Now, that belt is starting to dig in, trying to squeeze me in half.
I swallow the new gum, too, and look down at myself. I'm getting pretty big, bulging out around the belt. My shirt is riding up, exposing my swelling blue belly to the cool air. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her make another mark.
I try to touch my growing midsection, but it's getting hard to move my arms. They're filling up too. I feel warm all over now.
"You're blowing up so fast!" she says.
She opens her mouth to say something else, and that's when my belt snaps apart. My equator surges outward, jiggling and sloshing from the violent release.
It feels so, so strange, becoming something completely alien to what you use to be.
That said, it also feels amazing. Swelling bigger and bigger with gushing blueberry juice, bursting out of- wait.
I'm still growing, but besides the belt, everything's still on.
I try to look down again, but all I can see is the blue horizon of my belly. I flap my hands in frustration.
The lady speaks up again. "Since you're likely unable to move by yourself now, may I have your permission to roll you?"
"Um," I say, trying to think. I'm freaking out a little right now. "Uh."
I need this. It's all I've ever really needed. I just need need need to blow up and burst out of my clothes, that's it, and who cares what happens to the blueberry that used to be me.
All I need is to burst one little button and I'm done. I'll have won. Good day, miss.
The problems is, I'm perfectly round now, and my jeans are so, so tight but haven't so much as snapped a stray thread.
"Miss?" she says, "may I roll you away?"
I try to think of something to say, just to stall for a little more time. I'm so close, so so close.
Instead, I break down.
"Please," I beg her, "I'm going to lose my mind if I can't pop this button."
"Hey-" she starts, but I'm in a full-on panic right now.
"I have to, I have to, I don't know if I'll ever get another chance to be a blueberry, and like what if you roll me away and I never get juiced and I'm just stuck like this forever which would be hot but still or like what if this is as big as I can get and it's just impossible like what the fuck who even makes clothes that fit spherical women I knew I should have worn the red ones-"
"-but-"
"And I know what you're thinking! She broke the rules, it doesn't matter what she wants, she's just a blueberry now, blueberries don't want things, they're not even people! She had her chance and she blew it except she couldn't even blow it-"
"Miss! Please," she snaps, and she walks over, reaches up, and pinches my lips closed.
We lock eyes, because where else can I look, and for a moment, I just cry silent blue tears down my puffy cheeks, pouting all the while.
Then she smiles, and says, "I'm a trained professional, Miss. I can help you with that." She lets go, brushes her frizzy hair out of her eyes, and disappears behind me.
I feel her warm little hands on either side of me, like she's trying to give me a weird hug. Then I feel her squeeze into me. It feels startling, she must be way stronger than she looks. The pressure builds more and more, and I can hear her making an adorable little straining noise.
Then, there's a pop, and immediately a sense of relief. I hear a little zipping noise as the fly on my jeans explodes open. I gasp at the sensation.
Finally.
I give a little shudder, releasing the tension I hadn't realized was building the whole time. How Freudian of me, I guess. The oral stage ain't got nothing on this.
"Now then," she says, appearing in front of me again, smiling wider, making yet another mark. "May I please roll you away, Miss?"
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karalovesallthegirls · 4 months
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Some Q's for youuu:
8. How slow is a slow burn? 🕒
19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it. 📝
22. What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again? 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻
28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? 🤓
30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't. 🪦🙀
I appreciate your dedication using the emojis, they enhanced the experience greatly!!!!
8. How slow is a slow burn? 🕒 
The hottest slow burn 2 me is one where they can barely even make eye contact for a solid 15k, let alone touch lips. I want them to go through every possible option and do every possible thing to avoid getting together for so long they’re practically pulling their hair out in the frustration of it. Their desperation for each other needs to be so unbearable that they truly genuinely lose their minds, and they then need to stay apart for a little while after that.
19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it. 📝 “Alien…” she whispers, eyes wide with a terror so painfully familiar to Kara. “Oh, God.” “Miss Luthor, I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I just need the hard drive. That’s all," Kara says.
She tries to keep a soothing tone, but she’s so tired of this. She wants to be done. She’s so close to being done, too. The Luthor's eyes are intense and focused, studying Kara back just as deeply as Kara studies her. She’s beautiful, Kara thinks, and she’s scared. Everyone is always scared of the alien. The woman holds the device out with one hand and Kara can see the slight shake to it. “You won’t hurt me?” she asks again, and Kara smiles. “I promise,” Kara says. She grabs the drive but feels some resistance as she tugs. The other woman isn’t letting go. Kara looks at her again to find her smiling. “Funny,” Lena Luthor says. “Because I’m going to hurt you.” Kara’s head whips back with the force of the hit, blood splattering from her mouth as she falls.
22. What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again? 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻
For me I fucking LOVE a multiverse like what do you mean they will find each other in every form, in every world, in every time??? What do you MEAN if there’s a version of one that exists the other must be elsewhere waiting for the chance and not knowing it?? What do you MEAN quantum entanglement?????
28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? 🤓
Don’t try to write it correctly the first round, just get material on the page. 
Write out your story concepts like you’re writing a transcript of your brain. You’re not editing or correcting or explaining meaning, just conveying exactly what is there as it is. My preferred method is just a big stream of conscious paragraph with no punctuations and often times looks like I’m describing drama to a friend via text - “[…] and then Lena was like Lex what the fuck!!!!!! bitch!!!!! and then Kara freaks out and grabs […] - and then just leave it for a little while. Come back to it later and divide them up into fragmented sentences and concepts and build from there. When I spend ages trying to think of the right way to write out my ideas more often than not I find I’ve written nothing, and the things left unwritten have faded away from my memory like they’d never been there at all.
30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't. 🪦🙀
I have a fic concept I flirt with sometimes where Lena is head of security for Luthor Corp distribution, which handles art and artifacts for hundreds of museums around the world, and she is forced to handle the chaos of some masked thief that keeps stealing things and returning them to their original cultures. Lillian is breathing down her neck to fix this, but no one ever seems able to even get more than a glimpse of the crook - until Lena does. 
And Lena realizes three things when she finally sees the masked Robin Hood rip-off:
1.) the thief is a woman, and somehow able to handle such massive robberies alone.
2.) The thief gets sloppy when Lena is there, nervous and bumbling and chatty. She acts like she’s never seen a pretty girl before. Like she wants to impress Lena just as much as rob her.
3.) Lena might not be able to stop the robberies with her wit, but she sure as hell can with her tits.
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opinated-user · 1 year
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For anyone else on Earth, looking at art drawn by TWO artists who used CSEM as references (including one who hurt her own son), having massive porn accounts full of the most realistic shota and loli on the face of this planet, misgendering every trans and nonbinary person she encounters, calling queer people cishet if she doesn't like them, hating a Jewish nonbinary cartoon creator and likening her to a Nazi, overlooking antisemitism in Harley Quinn, writing a black OC whose mom is a slave trader who goes on to wed a trafficking victim of her mother's and completely control her life/use her as childcare and ship repair, making the Tooncritic situation worse allowing an actual pedophile to walk free, having her Gardevoir OC violate a human child, writing incest and murder and pedophilia and rape, coercing people into sexual art and acts they were uncomfortable with, stealing art, stealing jokes, having her audience dogpile people, accusing her audience and haters alike of wanting to fuck or rape her, flashing children suddenly on stream, and lying chronically about everything from catching covid 3 times to her race to faking entire people would be enough to get her deplatformed.
I've seen people get deplatformed for any single one of these things.
Why the fuck does Lily glide by without any lengthy comprehensive video or massive Lily exposed video essay? Why is it always, at most, a video that goes over one thing she did or one person she hurt? Why does no one ever talk about the people whose existence she faked or the porn accounts or the racefaking or any other number of things she's done?
Maybe if someone did a cold, calm TRO style video about all the shit Lily's done with all the receipts we'd get somewhere. But instead videos are made about, at most, two things she's done, without the piles of evidence for all the other things, and then everyone argues about a word possibly being misused as if that's going to help things.
If I had any money to my name I would buy equipment and make a documentary length video on everything she has done. Instead I have to sit here as a Jewish CSA victim knowing she can endorse Nazis and support an artist who assaulted a two year old and know that at most those things will get 4-10 reblogs on tumblr rather than her getting dragged and deplatformed away from minors she can hurt.
I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired. The fact that not one person even seems to care enough to try to cover even a fraction of her shit is exhausting. It takes me right back to childhood and being told what my abuser did wasn't serious because she's a girl and girls aren't bad like boys are.
Can someone please hold this woman to account? The evidence is all over the place. The job is halfway done for you. Someone, anyone, please do something significant to deplatform her.
At this rate the only way she'll be deplatformed is if she abuses a child herself, and only if it's in a way the authorities bother to give a shit about. Again: I am so tired. No one gives a damn about people like me, either in the sense of giving a damn about CSA survivors or Jewish people. No one cares. No one has ever cared. I wish I'd died when I was a kid and my abuser used to choke me, I really do.
making the Tooncritic situation worse allowing an actual pedophile to walk free
(i have to clarify that i was wrong about that. on this post segasister is kind enough to explain better the situation. LO actually had nothing to do with the investigation one way or another. she did took advantage of it and made it seem like she was the hero when that wasn't true, but she didn't made it worse either like i assumed so.) anon, please don't think of it that way. i know it's disheartening and dissapointing that all of this doesn't recieve as much attention as we'd all like, but at least is recieving some attention now. it was a lot worse just a few years back. things are changing slowly but they're doing it and for the better. LO might never get the TRO's style documentary that other figures got, but she's slowly fading into irrelevancy and that is what matters because it means less people she can hurt. i'm so sorry for everything that has happened to you. if LO and the discourse around her makes you feel that way, i recommend taking a break, find your support system and try to forget about this for a while. your wellbeing and mental health is more important that LO and anything she could do or say.
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doubleddenden · 2 years
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I haven't slept and I'm watching Be Cool Scooby Doo on Boomerang and I have opinions
The art style is disgusting but I do like the characterization they give the gang and especially Daphne. This is an exact polar opposite to how I feel about Mystery Inc: gorgeous art style, terrible characterization.
Let me explain by saying this: Daphne is so much better just being a weird silly bitch than a love sick teenager.
BCSD Daph will literally talk with only puppets for an episode
MI Daph will obsess over Fred
BCSD Daph will try to steal a jewel from her own family hotel using high tech jewelry thief tech
MI Daph will obsess over Fred
BCSD Daph makes silly beards out of her own hair and weirds out her best friends on a regular basis
MI Daph will obsess over Fred- and look really amazing as a Hex Girl band member, but still obsess and obsess over Fred
For the record, Velma is just a nerdy asshole in BCSD but that vastly beats her bitchy "I'm really going to force my boyfriend/close friend to choose me over an ACTUAL TALKING DOG THAT IS HIS ACTUAL AND MAYBE ONLY ACTUAL BEST FRIEND and get pissy about it and treat my friends like absolute shit" self in MI. Maybe also the tired mom friend in BCSD.
Fred is still obsessed with traps but is no longer a himbo and is more or less the tired dad friend forced to play the straight man. This is actually less annoying and plays off better believe it or not.
Shaggy and Scooby are actually kinda low key comedy relief in BCSD like usual but they lean towards hipster nerds. But they're about as stale as American Dad characters. This still beats how weirdly they were portrayed in MI by just being the Team Screamers and occasionally being forced to expunge edgy teenage romance plot that has no business coming out of a hippy and dog's mouths.
These are almost entirely different characters but for the better imo
And you know what? They are entirely different characters compared to the past iterations in almost every regard. That's not a bad thing at all.
Silly and weird girl Daphne is the best personality for her since What's New Scooby Doo. Not only is she allowed to emote about things that aren't fashion or Fred or whatever, she's actually a character! She has a personality! A fun one! Not that I disliked her personality when she was finally a capable investigator that could also kick ass- I just like silly himbos and SHE TOOK FRED'S HIMBO ENERGY
If only the series didn't look like it was animated by the guys behind those very bad, low effort comedy central cop/forest ranger shows. Call it a unique art style thats subjective, I call it "ugly for the sake of being ugly" like most Adult Swim shows. If it was animated like Scooby Doo and Guess Who? Or What's New Scooby Doo then I'd be much happier.
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wanderingrain · 1 year
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Blogging through Till the World Ends Ep 6
Aww not domestic gangster boyfriend.
Oh ok we're just gonna loudly make out on the couch behind little sister's back.
I cannot take P'Joke's eyepatch seriously I'm sorry
If she says this meat is the dog🐕 I swear
She's totally going to vgyrdchjoyrdd
oh no we're hinting it's human
Oh ok we're not hinting.
They're grossed out but not as much as you would expect them to be. Your little sister makes you eat human and you're only a little bit grossed out? Not even enough to be disgusted? What even is this gang? Lol
I've said it before, There is literally no way to explain away Golf hitting Art with the guitar. "I just got so angry" Major red flag my dude. "I thought you were trying to steal my girlfriend. " Major red flag my dude. I feel like this whole premise only really works because they're going to die (maybe) in 4 days. Like there is no way this relationship can survive long term unless they both get a lot of therapy. But short term? We're all gonna die anyway my dudes. ┐(゚~゚)┌
"I didn't mean it. " Dude it was clearly premeditated. I think you mean "if I knew you then like I do now I wouldn't have done it" which is still a Major red flag my dude.
well if these aren't the consequences of my own actions
Brother cuddllllleeees
I sense some BS advice coming from Jae
"it depends on the relationship." Jae he literally assaulted me.
"How many people have you hurt?" Jae there is a huge glaring difference here in that I (Art) never assaulted anyone.
Ugh where's the crack. Give me the crack back.
Jae's HUSBAND CHEATED ON HER??
SHE CHEATED TOO??
What is this all of a sudden???
This is so much worse advice than I thought it would be!!
"Golf didn't have bad intentions" HE BASHED SOMEONE OVER THE HEAD WITH A GUITAR!!
I knew they would pull out some stupid excuse to get Golf and Art back together but I thought it would Art least be funny!!?? Not this "sometimes you just have to let the person you love hurt you" crap.
This is so toxic please. This is Love Mechanics levels of toxic. Except this show doesn't have romanticized SA. (Crossing my fingers)
You know how when you talk to older women and they're like "oh yeah I waited on my husband hand and foot. He's just so tired after work you know? But boy was it difficult to cook with 7 children under foot but you learn to manage it!" And they treat men like they're basically one of the children they have to take care of and expect the younger generations to do the same? Yeah that's the feeling I'm getting from this conversation.
Before this conversation happened I was prepared to say "aww adopted mother cuddllleees" but now I'm too upset with Jae 😕
wow I just got an ad for a movie called "women talking" that looks like it's about what I was literally just talking about. 😨
I'm so glad they cast actors who can cry. It's always so awkward when they're clearly trying but can't.
Dude stop calling his name and just spit it out!! He's clearly here to listen!! This is Lovely Writer all over again where he was given ample time to explain and just stood there in silence!
Is he showing Art the video he took where he tried to unalive himself?? That's like emotional blackmail? What the heck
Your excuse is "if I'd wanted to kill you I wouldn't have helped you" ?? See this is the good crack! Take everything else away and just say the most absurd thing possible!
CAN I SMACK YOU BACK?? YES ART GET HIM!!
Oh
I see you looking at his lips Art. I see you
Lol not P'Gus and Jae falling into the room! Not them just continuing to lay there instead of jumping apart. Finally the crack is back!
Is this wedding foreshadowing?
He is not about to propose. They just got back together. Have they even kissed yet? I don't think they have.
No he is oh jeez. I have no words.
I don't know how I feel about this but the world is ending in 4 days so sure why not if it's that important to you.
Can't believe this is their first- oh ok nevermind.
Lol trying to use a Pomeranian to follow a scent.
The way the dog just FLOPS onto the ground!! This is the good stuff.
Oh no what is this awkwardness?
More Christmas🎄 music!!
It's not complete because you didn't kiss, Art. Duh
They're not even lining up correctly this kiss ain't gonna happen.
Yup there it is
crying on the floor what was that sneeze ? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 That wasn't supposed to happen was it. That was a real sneeze and they all just acted past it. I love these moments in amateur shows so much.
Is this the first time we've seen Jae with her hair down? Besides the wedding?
They're acting like she's so old lol. She's not even hobbling on her feet and they're acting like she's on death's door.
Aww is sweet that they're all crying
uh oh not the gang approaching.
I'm not really sure why I exchanged "babes" for "my dude" in this one but I did so... ┐(゚~゚)┌ I can't believe our boys got married and they still haven't even kissed yet.
So I thought before that one of the gang members was going to be Art's little brother, but that was before I realized that P'Long wasn't actually a new recruit and that both of the guys were older than bubblegum. (Have they ever even said her name btw? Cause I haven't noticed.) I'm sure his brother will come up somehow though. They wouldn't have brought him up if he wasn't going to appear at some point.
Are we working off the assumption that anyone inside a bunker when the moon hits the earth will survive? Because I've been thinking this whole time that it's a kind of false comfort situation. Like there's nothing anyone can do to stop the mass extinction of humanity but we need to at least seem like we're doing something.
I've kinda just been assuming everyone's going to die at the end which definitely contributes to me not taking things as seriously. Nothing really matters if all our characters are just going to die, no need to get too attached to them. ┐(゚~゚)┌ I'm really just here to have fun.
On to episode 7 and maybe the start of a new adventure outside the dorm?
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nirvhannahcornell · 4 years
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Oh and since @josiebelladonna keeps trying to say that I've "stolen" or "reposted" her art (I don't know where she's getting this info from I would never do that, her art is unflattering) I would like to say I've never done such a thing. My icon is proof of her being insensitive and trying to claim different races. So, disclaimer ‼️‼️the drawing in my icon isn't mine, I don't claim it to be mine. Even when I posted it in the callout post I left her name and everything. It's not my art. (thank god) ‼️‼️ Here's the link to the original. https://josiebelladonna.tumblr.com/post/618660043911561216/mermay-2020-day-twenty-ancestors-one-for-my
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leossmoonn · 3 years
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could i please request a stefan fluff where the reader is like spanish or smth, but she speaks ij english with everyone. and her and stefan are dating. so one day she gets upset over smth so she starts ranting in spanish and stefan can't understand a thing. and he's like "oh- ok-" even though he didn't understand anything. if not thats ok! have a nice day!!
have a nice day too <33
masterlist
pairing - stefan salvatore x spanish speaking, fem!reader
type - fluff, angst
note - i put the reader as a spanish speaker and not just spanish, so it could be more inclusive :). and i'm so sorry that this is so bad. i couldn't come up with a better plot like i wanted to, but i hope you enjoy anyways!
warnings / includes - language, kissing, food and alcohol mention, cute couple stuff, you getting upset (duh), kissing, stefan trying to be supportive but also being really confused lol. you all are like in your late 20s for this lol. for those who aren't spanish speakers, i will put translations in little text under each sentence/paragraph
————
"Sí. Bueno, lo retomaré más tarde. Gracias," you hung up the phone, setting it down with a smile on your face.
["Yes. Okay, I will pick it up later. Thank you."]
"Hey, who was that?" Stefan come over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.
"That was Lucas's friend. He was able to get the cake and the cupcakes made early!" You squealed, jumping up and down in his arms.
"Oh, that's awesome! Looks like Caroline won't be bugging you anymore," Stefan chuckled.
"Oh, I know. Man, am I happy to finally get this party planning over with," you sighed, turning around and leaning against the counter.
You smiled as you came face-to-face with your boyfriend. You hung your arms around his neck lazily, twirling the hair on the nape of his neck with your first fingers.
"Tired?" Stefan raised a brow, settings hands on your hips.
"Exhausted. And to think the actual party is tonight," you chuckled. "Well, that's the easiest part, right?" Stefan asked.
"Yeah, watching over twenty-to-twenty five eleven years olds is easy," you rolled your eyes.
"You'll have help. Caroline, me, Bonnie, Ric, Elena, Matt. Even Damon has volunteered to watch them!"
"Or lure them in a back corner and fed on them," you scoffed. "Hey, Damon's a lot of things, but he is not a child-blood-sucker," Stefan defended.
"Awe, you're defending him. How cute," you booped his nose.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. We are goals. Or whatever the kids are saying these days."
You giggled at his words, turning back around as you heard the front door open. You looked to see Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena carrying the twins, a bunch of presents, and at least five boxes of pizza.
"Damn. I wish you guys bought me this many presents!" You exclaimed.
"Oh, shut up. We give you a bottle of champagne and you're already over the moon," Elena snickered.
"Well, what can I say? I'm a simple gal," you grinned.
"Hey, Stef, can you help, please? Put these next to the window sill," Bonnie ordered as she was carrying most of the presents.
"Yeah, of course," Stefan nodded. He ran over to her with his vampire speed, picking up the presents at lightening speed and laying them out in towers.
"Thank you," Bonnie sighed. "Yeah, no problem. Hey, why didn't you just use your magic to carry them in?" Stefan asked.
"I need to save my energy for the kids," Bonnie explained.
"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa. I didn't know we were letting the world know our secret," you frowned.
"We aren't! They're just a bunch of kids. Plus, we can just compel them to forget. Josie and Lizzie really want to show them tricks, too," Caroline bounced the twins in her arms.
You looked to the two girls who were giggling and smiling. You sighed, "Fine. Anyways, guess who was able to get the cake and the cupcakes."
"Oh, my God! You?" Caroline gasped. "Yep. Call me Santa Claus 'cause I just delivered!" You grinned.
Elena, Bonnie, and Stefan cringed at your joke.
"Not your best work, Y/n," Elena shook her head.
"What! Hey, that was pretty good," you frowned. "You'll get 'em next time, babe," Stefan smiled, going over to you and patting you on the back.
"Okay, you guys are just jealous because you're not as funny as me," you scoffed.
"Oh, yeah, we're jealous all right," Bonnie smirked.
You opened your mouth to retort back, but your phone started ringing. You looked at the Caller ID, seeing that it was your brother, Lucas. You gave them all a death glare, picking up your phone and going into the other room.
"Hey, amigo, what's up?" You asked.
"Uh, bad news, chica," Lucas sighed. "Oh?" You raised a brow.
"Yeah, turns out that Darryl can't make the cake or the cupcakes today."
You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Your eyes were wide as saucers as you thought of what to say.
"Y/n? Please say something," Luca begged.
You turned your head, your face screwing up in guilt and anger as you saw Lizzie and Josie playing with Bonnie and Stefan. You turned back and focused on the conversation you were having with you very trusting brother.
"¿Qué quiere decir Darryl no puede hacer el pastel o cupcakes?"
[What do you mean darryl can't make the cake or cupcakes?"]
"I mean that he can't make them. Do I need to explain to you what those words mean? And why are you speaking in Spanish? Afraid someone will —"
"En realidad, lo soy, Lucas. Dios, eres tan poco confiable. ¡Y ese amigo tuyo! Espera, ¿podría recuperar mi dinero?"
["Actually, I am, Lucas. God, you are so unreliable. And that friend of yours! Wait, am I going to be able to get my money back?"]
"Um… probably not. But it's okay, I'll pay you back!"
"Ah, ¿cuándo? ¿Después de sacar dinero del fondo universitario de su hijo? ¿O se lo van a pedir a mamá y papá esta vez?"
["Oh, when? After you take out money from your child's college fund? Or are you going to ask mom and dad for it this time?"]
"Hey, don't blame me! Blame Darryl. All I did was hook you up with him!"
"Y probablemente sabías que era un gilipollas mentiroso y que robaba dinero. Llámame de vuelta cuando seas capaz de no mentirme, ¿sí?"
["And you probably knew that he was a lying, money-stealing asshole. Call me back when you're able to not lie to me, yeah?"]
"Wait, Y/n, I-"
You hung up the phone, throwing it on the chair next to you. You groaned quietly, the bridge of your nose burning as tears welled up in your eyes.
"¿Cómo puedes ser tan estúpido, Y/n? Confiando en él después de todo lo demás que ha hecho. Estúpido, estúpido, estúpido!"
["How can you be so stupid, Y/n? Trusting him after everything else he's done. Stupid, stupid, stupid!"]
Stefan, who was throwing up Lizzie and Josie in the air, heard your mutters in the other room. He frowned and put the girls down, promising them that he would be back in a second after checking up on you. He walked into the next room slowly, putting his arm around you lightly.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
You jumped at his voice and touch, sniffling and wiping the tears from your face. "Y-Yeah. Just some um, family stuff."
"Want to talk about it?" Stefan asked.
You sighed, turning around to him. His hand intertwined with yours, squeezing it for support.
"It's just… Lucas. He's just so… jodidamente molesto," you sighed. "Él simplemente no piensa en otras personas y las consecuencias. Quiero decir, trata de ayudar, lo que es agradable, pero siempre termina por pagar dinero a la gente, o termina por tener un ojo negro."
[“He is just so… fucking annoying. He just doesn't think about other people and the consequences. I mean, he tries to help, which is nice, but he always either ends up owing people money, or ends up having a black eye.”]
"O-Oh, yeah," Stefan nodded, his brows furrowed as he tried to understand. But you were speaking so fast and with so much anger, he barely picked up a word.
"Y como su hermana mayor, sé que probablemente se supone que voy fácil con él, pero es un hombre crecido. ¡Debe saber estas cosas! Ugh, sabía que debería haber ordenado a ellos como, Target o algo, pero el amigo de su “aparentemente” es capaz de hacer diseños realmente lindos y hacer arte fondant en tiempo récord, así que tomé mis mis oportunidades. ¿Y adivina dónde estoy ahora?"
[“And as his older sister, I know I'm probably supposed to go easy on him, but he's a grown man. He should know these things! Ugh, I knew I should've just ordered them from like, Target or something, but hsi friend "apparently" is able to do really cute designs and make fondant art in record time, so I took my chances. And guess where I am now?”]
"Right, right. Wow, I'm sorry, babe, I —"
"Ciento cincuenta dólares cortos con dos niñas que van a estar tristes cuando no consiguen su pastel de sirena barbie y cupcakes con temática de Minecraft. ¡Argh!"
["One hundred and fifty dollars short with two little girls who are going to be sad when they don't get their Barbie Mermaid cake and Minecraft-themed cupcakes. Argh!"]
You stopped your rant when you noticed Stefan looked at you with a confused expression on his face. You thought for a moment to yourself, beginning to laugh at yourself as you realised you were speaking in Spanish.
"I'm sorry, Stef. I didn't realise you couldn't understand me."
He smiled and shrugged. "No worries. At least you were able to get it all out, right?"
"A little. When I punch Lucas, I'll be able to get it all out," you grinned.
"That's my girl."
————
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riddlecrux · 3 years
Text
Forbidden
Day 4 of Elriel Month!
Summary: Roses and peonies blooming behind her made the scene look as if she came out of one of Feyre's paintings - otherworldly and so blindingly pure. The braid with meticulously attached pins was touching her milky nape as she lazily put a white teacup to her full lips.
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He found her curled on one of the iron chairs in the garden.
Her baby blue dress rode up to her calves, one arm completely bare in the golden hue of sunset as she turned the page of a leather book with a soft hum that traveled down his spine. He could see freckles ghosting her skin as lover's kisses, a path to his undoing or maybe his salvation. Roses and peonies blooming behind her made the scene look as if she came out of one of Feyre's paintings - otherworldly and so blindingly pure. The braid with meticulously attached pins was touching her milky nape as she lazily put a white teacup to her full lips.
Her nose scrunched, yet the blush remained as she giggled at something she had read - a golden hour basking her in rays of sunshine, like a streak of lightning thundering inside his skull. Jasmine and honey attacked his nostrils when she spun her digit in one of her locks, humming.
She smelled like home.
Like a warm bed and morning kisses that lovers steal whenever they feel content - something he hadn't experienced, but craved like a hollowed beggar. That part of him was always buried deep down inside him, a box tucked behind his trauma and pain. Never to be reached, never to be unlocked. However, meeting Elain was as if the dreams he crushed behind the shadows sprung up and rattled at the tiny interior of their container.
"Lurking in the shadows doesn't work on me," his eyes found brown orbs that blazed with many emotions only to settle on longing. He felt it in his chest, a pang that echoed throughout his body leaving him breathless for a short moment. Merely nodding at her words he didn't move an inch, as if to remind himself that she was out of his reach. The thought of it squeezing his insides in an iron brand - it was hard to restrain his feelings that swept through the connection they had, a bright tether pooling between them like a self-made bridge. A howling wilderness screaming at both of them to move, to close the distance.
"As expected of my student," Azriel murmured. Her lips parted while two dimples he so loved appeared on her heart-shaped face. Yet before he decided on taking another step towards her, a flash of warning reflected in her pained stare.
The High Lord is watching.
Thick shadow curled around his neck as he tried to fight a sudden urge to shove Rhysand into his cabinet door - a looming presence of dark claws threatening to explore his thoughts, stopping him from winnowing to the office.
He is angry.
He can fuck himself, he bitterly thought as Elain quickly peered at the window on the first floor. The way her shoulder dropped made his gut clench, yet she always knew how to bring out the best of everyone so with a gentle jerk of her chin she glanced at the colorful flowers behind her.
"I'm waiting for them to bloom," her voice was small, tired. She closed the book and dared to steal another quick peek at his person before she returned to gazing at her garden. "Epiphyllum," she whispered, gesturing to a bundle of green buds, her tea long forgotten as she didn't move from her spot at all. "Have you seen them?" Her question was laced with pain and hurt, but her hands didn't shake when she leaned over the chair.
"I don't think so," he recognized roses which always reminded him of her, especially the pale pink ones or the ones sprinkled with reds and yellows. Extraordinary beauty that bewitched him, smell so tender and soft that brought memories of their shy touches and every one of their almost-kisses.
"It has an extremely short lifespan, yet many plant it to see its flowers," she explained while touching some of the leaves. "They bloom only at night," her finger tapped one of the biggest stems of the group. "Once a year," her head angled so he could see her profile. Her rosy cheeks reminded him of their stolen moments, and how easy it was to see her loveliness while she tried to overcome her anxiety and trauma. Elain always saw goodness, even in the darkest part of the world and tormented souls - that's why whenever they spent their time together, her focus would sometimes switch onto his hands. She wasn't pitying him, on the contrary, she was observing them with a soft frown as if she was studying an exhibition in a museum. As if he was art.
She said then, "Look, we match," as she shoved her palms up in the air, right below his hazel eyes. He spotted a few white and pink scars running across them, rivers of her hard work and souvenirs of angry thorns. In that particular moment, he felt that he would never love anyone as much as he loved her - the box in his chest rattling with anticipation.
Snapping out of his memories Azriel looked back at her person, only to be met with a pair of brown eyes. There were tears inside them, held in a resolution to not let them fall.
"They bloom one night and wither next morning," he curled his hands into fists as her sentence reached his heart.
"Elain," he inwardly stepped forward.
He wants you to go.
His neck snapped at the whisper, rage bubbling under his skin as he fought with an invisible order.
"A beautiful glory, short-lived yet spectacular," she stood up and faced him with a white flower in her fingers. Its petals were bright with the setting sun, almost transparent against the blue of Elain's dress. "This one bloomed early," her outstretched hand called him home.
I forbid you from approaching Elain. My. Office. Now. Rhysand's voice erupted in his temples as his palm grazed brown-haired women's one. He gently pried the flower from her and almost stumbled when she squeezed one of his digits.
"They symbolize patience," she gulped, staring straight at him. "Those who plant them wait a year to see its final momentum, a chance to see them finally blooming," her eyes held so much need and longing, yet he understood her perfectly.
With a final nod, he gathered his courage and stepped inside his shadows, leaving jasmine scented moments of tranquility and love, an orchid still in his scarred hand.
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agustdiv1ne · 3 years
Text
candy hearts — TEASER
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♡ READ HERE ♡
pairing: choi yeonjun x reader
genre: childhood best friends to lovers au, fluff, angst
wc: tbd (projected to be 10k+)
summary: spending valentine's day with your best friend had become a sort of tradition for ever since you were seven years old. despite the twists and turns in your friendship as both of you grew up, the one thing that never changed was the box of candy hearts that he placed in your hands every year.
warnings: tbd, none in this snippet
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TEASER
tuesday, february 14th; age 12
you leaned your head against your palm as you zoned out in your last period class. science had never been your favorite subject, even less so given that your teacher had been informally dubbed the school's wack job. 
as the day had dragged on, you realized that the holiday wasn't as widely celebrated in middle school. the so-called 'special' day was reserved solely for the few couples on campus, most of which had been dating for only a couple weeks. you bet most would be broken up by next month, the typical cycle for immature, hormone-riddled relationships. 
but back to your science class.
you felt your eyes nearly roll into your skull as your teacher excitedly explained the concept of genetics and punnet squares. what a riveting topic to listen to for an hour on valentine's day. however, you couldn't focus on his boisterous ramblings when your mind was chock-full of bitter thoughts of how your best friend had decided that he couldn't be seen with you at school. 
okay, maybe not back to your science class. you were too distracted, too bothered, to concentrate.
because while yeonjun had promised to not leave you behind in middle school, it grew exceedingly obvious, as the year went on, that he had lied straight to your face. this holiday was only a painful reminder of that fact.
you couldn't entirely blame him, though, the vast sea of middle school causing you to slowly drift apart from each other as you both tried to find where you fit in. he had made new friends easily, the shy boy you once knew emerged from his shell, countless peers recognizing him for his impressive talents in baseball, in dance, in singing, the list could go on. he was good at everything that he tried his hand at, and by the middle of seventh grade, he had become the campus' golden boy. even the eighth graders knew him!
this came with a cost, however, and that was leaving you, his best friend of five years, behind (for the most part, at least).
you had found your own friends, of course. you had to, or else you would have been deemed a loner, and no one wants to be a loner in middle school. it was uncomfortable, having to talk to people you had never interacted with beforehand. despite this, you had found yourself a little group through your art class: yeri, chaeyoung, and yuqi. they had welcomed you into their trio easily. though it felt weird to have friends other than yeonjun for the first time, you were happy. well, uh, besides the whole yeonjun thing.
with only one class with him, it was easy to not speak to each other during school. your hangouts were now confined to after school, when he wasn't surrounded by his new friends and could make time for you. you never tried to talk to him about it, scared that he'd twist your words and it would destroy what semblance of friendship that remained between you. honestly, you wished that you could go back to elementary school, when things were easier, when you could talk to him at school without worrying about the consequences of doing so. 
yet you knew it wasn't that easy. this wasn't elementary school anymore.
your eyes subconsciously trailed over to the boy in question. you were supposed to hang out with him after school, but there was always that one insecurity that rattled around your mind:
what if this was the year that he finally blew you off? for good? 
you shook your head, going back to the worksheet your teacher had passed out as you were distracted by your thoughts. punnet squares, okay. one parent with a dominant and recessive gene, one parent with two recessive genes. now fill in the squares…
"hey, y/n."
your head shot up from at the sound of his voice. eyes wide at the fact that he was speaking to you at school. it had been months since he had last done so.
"oh, hi yeonjun. what did you need?" you sent him a tight smile, not that he noticed. twelve year-old boys were never most observant.
he placed a box of candy hearts, the same thing he gifted you every year, on top of your desk. it was blank, no message or name in sight.
"i wanted to give you this before i forgot and it got crushed in my backpack." his voice quietened, almost as if he didn't want anyone to hear what he had to say next, "we're still hanging out after school, right? like we always do?"
you nodded, and he shot you a small smile, "great, thanks."
he walked away. as soon as he sat back down in his seat, his friends were punching at his shoulder, teasing him, asking him if he was dating you. you could hear it all from where you were sitting, but you wished you couldn't after what he said next.
"me? with her? no way, we're just friends. i could never see her like that."
you never truly realized how much he truly meant to you until you no longer hung out until after school, but this? this hurt. it made your chest ache when you saw his borderline disgusted face at the insinuation that you were dating each other. what was so bad about you for him to have that reaction? was it your hair, your face, your acne? you found yourself mentally paging through every possible flaw you saw in yourself until the bell rang, signalling the end of school. 
yuqi walked up to you at the front of campus, immediately spotting the forlorn look on your face, "hey, you good?"
"uh, yeah, i guess. listen, i have to go meet up with yeonjun. catch you later?" you asked.
"yeonjun, huh? are you sure you're not dating him?" she smirked, and you rolled your eyes, your mood worsening even more.
"we're just friends," you spat, turning away from her, "he'd never like me like that, anyway. i have no chance with him. i'll see you later, yuqi."
the further you walked, the worse you felt about how you spoke to yuqi. she didn't deserve to deal with the brunt of your wrath, it was uncalled for. you wanted to run back to school and apologize, but you were sure she had already been picked up.
you'd have to make it up to her tomorrow.
as you neared the supermarket a few blocks down the street from school, you could see yeonjun waiting near the entrance, his foot tapping against the sidewalk impatiently. his bike sat next to him, which explained how he arrived much earlier than you.
"took you long enough," he teased as you approached, but you didn't answer, only sending him a half-hearted smile in return. his grin fell, eyebrows now furrowed. oh, now he noticed how you were feeling? typical. "you okay?"
that was the second time you had been asked that now. you wanted to say no, you definitely were not okay, that it hurt to hear him say those words earlier, that it hurt that you couldn't even talk to him during school. you wanted to tell him that you felt abandoned, you wanted to tell him that he broke the promise he made a year ago, that ever since the first day of seventh grade you felt left behind. you wanted to ask him why he even bothered hanging out with you when he couldn't bother even speaking to you at school.
but you didn't.
instead, you plastered an artificial smile on your face, trying to make your voice sound a little more energetic than you felt, "yeah! i guess i'm just tired. science wasn't exactly fun today, y'know?"
"tell me about it," he laughed as he walked beside you, easily accepting your excuse without prying. you wished that he would have pried. "he's the weirdest teacher i've ever had, i can't believe he hasn't been fired yet."
"right?" you replied as you walked down the aisle full of candy. you picked out one of the overpriced boxes of heart-shaped chocolates before walking up to the register. you tried to hand some of your money to the lady helping you, but yeonjun swatted your hand away.
"nuh-uh, you're not paying for this," he argued.
"but-"
"no."
you visibly deflated, scrunching your nose at him in distaste. he simply grinned at you in response.
"ah, young love," the cashier sighed as she took yeonjun's money. your heart clenched, thanking her before you two walked outside again, the air cool against your skin, the sun glaring into your eyes, the weather the complete opposite of your mood. you glanced over at yeonjun. you wondered why he hadn't protested when she said that. you didn't ask.
his hand found yours, dragging you around the corner behind the building. your heart raced, skin heating up slightly at the contact. your reaction couldn't have meant anything. no, you couldn't like him like that. you were friends, nothing more, nothing less.
as you sat next to each other behind the supermarket, unwrapping and eating the chocolate that he had bought you just a few minutes ago, you realized that you really couldn't deny it anymore: you were in love with choi yeonjun, your best friend, and you couldn't do anything about it.
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hope y'all are excited :) if you would like to be tagged when the full fic is posted, please send me an ask!
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→ © to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.
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allegra-writes · 4 years
Text
"Cherry"
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Peter Parker x SHIELD Agent! Reader
NSFW
Warnings: Smut. Dom!Peter, jealous, Possesive!Peter, rough sex.
Weeks after the island, Peter finally sees you again. But you aren't alone...
Part of the "Fine Line" series but you don't need to have read that first.
Series Masterlist
Peter couldn't breath. His clothes felt stiff and restrictive, the bowtie, suffocating. This was a bad, bad idea. He wasn't cut for this. He was just a Parker, not a Stark, he had spent most his life trying to be invisible, not even getting superpowers had changed that. He had never wanted to stand out. He didn't want to be seen, to be recognized. 
Even Quentin Beck had realized that. That's why he had done what he had, because he knew it would be the best way to ruin Peter's life. It had been almost a month since his return from Eroda, since Pepper and Fury had managed to clear his name and expose Quentin Beck as the fraud he was, trying to frame Peter for his murder with an adulterated video out of jealousy and envy. The greedy, insane employee gone mad after being overlooked in favor of the young intern, chosen by Tony Stark himself to be his successor. Spider-Man had just been doing his job as Peter's bodyguard when the incident at the bridge happened.
That was the official story, and the press had bought it with gusto, plastering the wide eyed boy's face on every cover, every paper, every magazine, every news site. A few weeks later, he was pretty much America's new sweetheart. Everybody knew his name. Everybody knew his face. His anonymity was gone.
Quentin Beck had won. 
And now, there he was, being blinded by flashing lights, walking the red carpet of his first gala as the official heir of Stark Industries… two seconds away from throwing up.
"Breathe, Peter" Pepper whispered to him, voice calm and reassuring, "Just focus on a point above their heads, and keep your head high" 
She took a step forward and Peter couldn't help but stare: she looked like a queen in her white gown, complete with cape and everything. She was an elegant woman but it wasn't just about her beauty, it was about the power, the authority she commanded, every eye in that red carpet had no choice but to focus on her. 
Tony had been like that too, albeit in a different way: charismatic and bigger than life. Peter wondered how anybody could look at him, awkward and pasty, and think he was related to the man. Because he knew what people were saying...
"Parker, how are you holding up, mate?" A tall, blond boy patted his back, pulling him out of his thoughts. Harry Osborn, the only person there to introduce himself to Peter and actually take the time to try and make him feel comfortable. At first Peter had thought it had something to do with his family being the one hosting the gala but the youngest Osborn wasn't exactly famous for his good manners or decorum. 
"I think I'm about to have a panic attack" more like sensory overload, but Peter wasn't sure how could he explain something like that to his new friend.
"Well, you are not hungover and puking on the photographers" The blond flashed him a brilliant smile, "so you're already doing better than me on my first red carpet"
Peter couldn't help the burst of laughter, but far from offended, Harry's grin turned even brighter. The flashes went wild.
"There you go, that should make for better photographs than the deer-in-the-headlights look you were sporting"
Peter offered him a grateful smile,
"Thanks dude, really"
"Don't mention it" Harry shook his head, "You're actually doing me a favor, letting me hang out with you. You're saving me from looking all lonely and pathetic in front of these vultures, since apparently I have been stood up..."
Peter stared at the blond in surprise. With those sharp cheekbones and icy blue eyes, it was hard to believe any girl could resist him. He suddenly felt a lot less bad about showing up dateless. 
"Alright, we've spent about fifteen minutes out here, we can go in now" Harry instructed, already a pro at this kind of event, gesturing for Peter to follow. 
He noticed the whispers as they walked into the massive lobby together, Oscorp and Stark Industries were rivals, just as Norman Osborn and Tony Stark used to be. His mentor used to find the other billionaire shady and his experiments, unethical. Even now, Pepper's and Norman's relationship was strained, at best, so seeing both heirs so friendly with each other was a little shocking. But if Harry didn't care about that, neither would Peter. Whatever sins the father had committed, he wasn't going to hold them against the son. That wasn't Peter's style. 
"So, what do you think of your first gala, so far?" Harry sauntered in front of him, stealing two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handling one to Peter.
"Oh, I- I don't drink, thank you"
"Good, that's a wise choice, don't change it" Harry praised, taking the glass back and downing that one too. Peter shook his head.
"I like it," He replied, looking around at the huge salon decked in lavished green and silver banners, the tables gilded with intricate floral arrangements, the huge shiny dance floor in the middle. "Stark Industries' is having one for Christmas, but it's going to be held at a hotel…"
Harry made a face,
"Yeah, that would be the norm, actually. But my father wanted to have it here this year, to prove the facilities are safe, you know?"
Peter thought back to that fatidical field trip all those years ago, to this very same building, when he was bitten by a stray radioactive spider that had escaped one of the labs. He hummed noncommittally. He seriously hoped mister Osborn was right, for the good of everyone attending the party, Harry included. Because truth was he really liked his new friend, he made everything easier just by offering Peter his company, by giving him someone his age to talk too, amongst all those old, stuck up gazillionaires that stared at him with curiosity at best, and open contempt at worst. 
But of course all good things had to come to an end, such was the Parker luck. Harry took his vibrating cell phone out of his pocket.
"Would you look at that! It seems my date has finally arrived" He announced, eyes glued to the screen, smitten smile on his face, "One would think an influencer would jump at the chance of being photographed by the press at a red carpet… But not her, of course. No, she arrives an hour late… I'll go find her, be right back, Parker"
That was when he saw you. Entering the ballroom, a siren in your long golden dress, scanning the crowd. You looked stunning, hair longer, lighter, done in elegant waves cascading down your back.   Your smile was dazzling as you found what you were looking for, and Peter didn't see his new friend make his way to you, entranced as he was by your mere presence.
Until he reached your side, and kissed your lips. 
Harry Osborn offered you his arm, and you took it graciously, and he walked you through the room, proud swag on his steps as he introduced you to practically everyone in the party, Peter's heart breaking a little more with every step you took towards him.
He hadn't heard from you since the island, and now he knew why: You had already found someone new. Someone better, more handsome, and classier than Peter. Than the awkward boy you had been sent to protect. 
Because underneath the Stark's money and his spider powers, that was all Peter was: some orphan kid from Queens who didn't belong. Harry could take you on dates to fancy restaurants without mispronouncing the names of the dishes, he could take you walking around his mother's art gallery in the upper east. He, with his aristocratic features, his british boarding school accent, his old family money, was a much better fit for a princess like you. You wanting Peter had never made much sense anyway. 
And you looked good on Harry's arm, better than ever, actually. You looked happy. Peter hated it, and he hated himself for it. 
"Parker! I want you to meet my date, Sixtine Boucher, influencer, it girl, philanthropist..." Harry was saying, suddenly in front of him, but Peter wasn't listening. You were there, close enough to touch, in the flesh. He could hear your heartbeat, smell you, sunshine and sweetness under the chemical tang of your expensive perfume for the first time after so long and it was almost overwhelming.
"S-Sixteen?"
"Sixtine" You corrected him, sighing as if it was something you did all the time and you were tired of it, "Bonsoir, Peter."
You sounded… funny. 
"You know each other?" Harry's voice asked, politely curious.
"We met during vacation, at the…" You trailed off, eyes meeting Peter in a silent request to play along, disguised as a struggle to find the right words, “... Comment dis-tu ‘plage’ en anglais?”
"Beach" Provided Peter, his brain catching up at last "Yeah, at the beach… when I was on vacation… a-at the french riviera"
"What a small world!" Harry chuckled but it sounded nervous, uncertain. No doubt he could feel the tension between the two of you, growing with every passing second. Along with Peter's understanding. The hair, the dress, the french accent? It was a costume, you were a spy after all. You weren't there for leisure, you were there for work. This was a mission. Harry was your target, or maybe your cover. Whatever it was, it wasn't you. It wasn't real. 
But then again, had Peter really met the real you? After all, not that long ago he had been your mission too…
When the next waiter passed in front of him, Peter stopped him. It probably would no nothing to his spider metabolism, but alcohol was looking more and more like a good idea. He had a feeling he was going to need all the help possible to get through the night. Harry arched a brow but luckily didn't comment, as he was beginning to get a clearer idea about how you and the brown eyed boy knew each other.
A glint on your cleavage caught Peter's eyes and he frowned. There, hanging from a long gold chain, nested between your breasts and almost completely hidden by the, admittedly low cut, neckline of your dress, rested a familiar crystal sunflower. The cheap jewel didn't match your cover, or your outfit, the only reason why you could be wearing it, was him. 
He nodded, almost imperceptibly, letting you know he understood, and you let out the breath you were holding. 
But awareness didn't make watching you, plastered to Harry's side all night any easier. It didn't stop him from seeing red every time you called Harry "baby", the endearment close enough to the "baby boy" you used for Peter to feel like a betrayal. It definitely didn't save the glass of wine he was holding from shattering under his grip as he saw you sneak outside of the room with him in the middle of dinner.
"Peter! Are you alright?" Pepper fussed over his hand, looking for cuts, and motioning to a waiter to help clean the shards of glass from the table.
"Yeah" He murmured, distractedly, eyes never leaving the doorway you had disappeared through, "I-I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me"
He didn't even wait for Mrs. Stark's reply as he got up from the table, giving chase to you and your date through corridors and elevators, following your giggles and the faint trace of your perfume. His persecution led him to the upmost floor of the building, where a single mahogany awaited him, but the fingertip scanner on the lock told him he wasn't going to be able to open it. 
He cursed, barely catching himself from making a dent on the wall with a punch. You were doing your job, that was all, he repeated, like a mantra. Whatever was happening behind that door meant nothing. You were wearing his sunflower, that had to mean something, it had to.
After a few minutes, that felt like hours to him, the door opened.
"Peter! Shit, I was hoping you would be smarter than to follow me!" You hissed, as he pushed you back, stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him.
"Where is Harry?" 
"Knocked out in the bathroom" You pointed at a door by the side. Peter took a look around the room, by far the biggest, most luxurious office he had ever seen in his entire life. And he had been inside Pepper's so that was saying something. The view of the Manhattan skyline through the floor to ceiling window was nothing short of breath taking. "I just needed him to get in here"
"Right. Of course. I knew that" 
You squinted in suspicion at his flat tone,
"Pete, are you… jealous?" You smirked, amused. But Peter wasn't in the mood for your teasing, his patience finally reaching its limit.
He was on you in a heartbeat, pushing you back against the wall, caging you with his body. There was a dangerous, possessive spark in his eyes that you had never seen before. One that promised trouble for you. 
"So what if I am?" He challenged, bracing himself on one hand on the wall next to your head, the other one slipping through the high slit on the skirt of your dress, fingertips digging on the sensitive skin at the inside of your thighs, "So what if every time I saw him put his hands on you tonight, I wanted to break his fingers? What if every time he kissed you, I felt like dying?" 
The pain was evident in his voice, breaking your heart a little. But this was you, you were a special agent, this was what you did. Peter had said he wanted you, wanted to get to know the real you. Well, this was it. 
"I'm not going to apologise for doing my job…" 
"I'm not asking you to" He interrupted
"Then what are you asking of me?" 
Peter pinned you with a long, considering look and you did your best not to squirm under its intensity.
"I'm not asking anymore, mon chérie " he finally spoke, "I'm taking"
He crushed his mouth, and his body, to yours, trapping you under his familiar weight and, for the first time since returning from the island, you felt home. He tasted like wine, and the cherries from dessert and heat. You had almost forgotten how his warmth felt like sunlight against your skin, until every starved pore opened to soak him up. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan. God, how you had missed him on your lips! 
You must have said it out loud, because you felt his smile against your jaw as he broke the kiss to let you breathe. 
"Did you, now?" He inquired, nuzzling down your neck, "Where else did you miss me, cherry?" 
You felt his long, talented fingers find their goal, tugging your underwear to the side, slipping into you with no warning once he realized how ready you already were for him.
"Did you miss me here? Did you miss me inside you?" 
There was a buzzing in your coms and the reality of what was about to happen, andwhere it was about to happen hit you like a bucket of cold water. 
"Peter, wait, not here!" Peter ignored you, lips latching onto the spot just under your ear that Peter knew made you see stars. He couldn't wait, couldn't tear himself away from you, from your body. You were already breathing hard and he knew your halfhearted resistance wasn't going to last much longer. He speeded up the movement of his fingers inside you, tearing an involuntary cry out of your mouth. He was working you expertely, wave after wave of wetness bathing his hand, undeniable proof of your pleasure. 
"Gonna leave so many pretty marks on you..." He promised, puncturing his words by biting down, hard, on the column of your neck, "Everybody's going to know who you really belong to..."
"Peter, please!" You sobbed, implored.
"Want me to stop baby girl? Really?"
You shook your head no. You didn't, you couldn't. Fuck the mission, fuck Oscorp, you only wanted to feel him. It had been too long, way too long. You took your coms out of your ear and smashed it under your hill. You'd deal with Hill later. 
Peter slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders, lowering his face to your exposed chest, all wet lips and hot tongue as you hurriedly undid his button and zipper, finally freeing his angry, hard member. You pumped him once, and he bit on your nipple with enough strength to draw a single, sweet drop of blood. 
"Oh god… feels so good" Peter's words were muffled against your collar bone, as he stretched you, burying himself deep inside you, as far as he would go, "being one with you again…"
"I missed you" You confessed, "so much, baby boy!"
Peter leaned back, stormy eyes capturing yours, holding you hostage,
"Oh no, my cherry, after your little stunt calling Harry baby all night?" He tsked, "No, you don't get to call me that anymore… now, you're gonna call me 'daddy'"
With that, he started thrusting up into you roughly, hips almost cruel in their onslaught as they slammed into you, truly railing you against the wall, unyielding, unrelenting. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on for dear life, taking what he gave you like a good girl cause that was what Peter needed from you. 
But god, did it feel good! His large thick cock, hard as vibranium, stretching you to your limits, a fit so tight you could feel every bump, every vein, as he hit all the secret spots inside you, tearing the pleasure out of you. Your orgasm was building fast, so fast it made you dizzy with the way all your blood rushed to your center. As your walls began to quiver around him, and you met Peter's fierce, furious face, you knew he wasn't going to be satisfied with just the one. Oh, no, he was going to rip out at least one more orgasm from your ravished body before releasing you. Undoubtedly not before marking you from the inside with his own release, you had long ago learned Peter was animalistic like that, all higher reasoning disappearing when it came to making you his. 
"Tell me you're mine" he breathed, demanding, against your cheek, hand sneaking between your bodies to tease your pearl, making you explode in sensation, and prolonging your climax, keeping you there where he wanted you, right on your peak until you were at the edge of sanity, your brain unable to process that much pleasure so suddenly and for so long.
You tried, but you couldn't remember how to form words, the only sound leaving your lips a delirious,
"Peter!"
"Say it, my cherry" he insisted, feeling his own release approach much quicker than he would like, but it just had been so long, and he had missed you so much and you just felt so fucking good  "let me hear you say you're mine as I make you come again…"
"Yes!" You cried, finally finding your voice, "I'm yours, Peter… only yours!"
"Damn right… all mine… only mine…"
He was almost there, and judging from the way your muscles were tensing and locking around him again, Peter knew you were too. But something was going on outside, his super hearing catching the sound of the elevator doors, and footsteps on the hallway. Still, he couldn't stop. He was so close, so fucking close… He had to come, had to make you come, before they did. There were voices outside, one of them he even recognized, telling the others to stop, to listen. Peter sneaked an arm around your waist, getting you away from the wall, moving you up and down his cock at inhuman speed, and he finally felt you fall apart. He came with a final cry of triumph… right as the doorknob started to turn. 
Faster than any human could, he ran behind the door, with you still in his arms, to buy himself a couple of seconds as he slipped out of you, fixing your dress so you were completely covered before even thinking about tucking himself back inside his pants. 
"Oh, for fucks sake!" Norman Osborn's exasperated voice was the first thing your pleasure addled brain was able to process as you stood on shaky legs, Peter's frame still hiding you from view. He took of his suit jacket, helping you put your hands through the sleeves and fastening it close.
"Put down your weapons, you goons! High security breach?.. Horny teenagers are not a menace, I should know!" Norman was still yelling at his guards. Peter turned around to face the old man, and you muffled your histerical laugh against his sweaty back, breathing him in. 
"S-sir… sorry, we-we we-were just" Peter babbled, trying to catch his breath.
"Oh, save it, boy! I know exactly what you were doing, this whole place stinks of sex!" 
You snorted and Norman finally seemed to notice who you were,
"I'm sorry, weren't you my son's date?"
You could only laugh harder.
"He passed out" provided Peter, as innocently as he managed, "in the bathroom"
"He's in the…" the billionaire's eyes widened, "Wait, you… you three were…"
"He really liked Peter" You announced, unhelpfully, fake accent restored. 
"Ignore her, please" Peter sounded apologetic, not wanting the blonde boy that had so kindly offered his friendship to him to face unjust consequences for his own fuck up "Harry has nothing to do with this. My girlfriend was just trying to make me jealous. It worked. Harry's only mistake was to get drunk"
Norman rolled his blue eyes, so alike his son's,
"A common mistake for him. Trust me, boy, you don't need to make excuses for him… God knows I got tired of making them myself a long time ago." He sighed, gesturing to his guards to check on Harry inside the bathroom.
"Now, get out of here, both of you, so I can call the cleaning crew… not Tony's son my ass, this is the exact same shit your father used to pull at all my parties!"
Peter opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but you tugged on his arm, it was pointless to try and deny it, Osborn senior was never going to believe him. 
Peter took your hand,
"Right. Of course… we'll be… going, then"
You chuckles at his cute, nervous babbling became a full on belly splitting laugh as you ran out of the office and locked yourselves inside the elevator. 
"Oh my god, his face!" You clutched at your stomach, doubled over, "that was… the best alibi in history! They didn't even search me!!" You showed Peter the tiny pendrive with S.H.I.E.L.D's logo where you had copied all the information inside Norman Osborn's computer. Peter tilted his head in confusion,
"Six, where were you even keeping that?!" Osborn's security might ot have searched you, but his own had been… pretty thorough. 
You merely winked, 
"Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"
This time, it was Peter's turn of barking a laugh. He pulled you to him, kissing your forehead.
"Come on, let's find Happy and tell him to get the car. I want to get out of here…"
And he was taking you home with him. 
To be continued...
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teknicianwrites · 3 years
Note
Happy Friday!! For DADWC: I've love to see some fluffy bullshit (platonic or romantic tbh, idc) between your lady mage Adaar and whomever!
I don't know if this is too late to still post for @dadrunkwriting, but screw it, I wrote something, even if I got distracted and then got tired and then fell asleep. I will probably come back to this because I love these two and they have more to say.
"What have we here?"
Akeelah jumped at the voice and turned, looking up from her spot on the floor to see Dorian laughing. "You scared the shit out of me."
"My deepest apologies," he said, grinning in the least apologetic way possible. "I wasn't intending to sneak up on you. You must have been quite absorbed in…" He came into the room and examined the ground before her. "...teeth?"
She blushed, though it was hard to say if he noticed, his head cocked curiously at the collection. "Dragon teeth," she confirmed, clearing her throat.
He glanced around the room, covered in dirt and dust and cobwebs, debris from ages past littered against the walls, and raised an eyebrow. "I admit it is an impressive collection, but I don't think anyone is likely to steal from the Herald of Andraste-"
"Not Andraste's herald," she grumbled, and he cheerfully ignored her.
"-so what is so special about these monstrous fangs that has you hiding in the deepest recesses of Skyhold?"
"What are you doing down here? You hate getting dirty," she asked in response.
He shot her a keen look. "This place is a goldmine of ancient secrets. I sometimes like to wander in hopes of stumbling across any lost treasures our dear spymaster may have missed." Dorian walked around the room, cataloguing and dismissing its contents as he did. "Not my lucky day, it seems. But you didn't answer my question, Akeelah." He smiled as she shifted uncomfortably. "It was a fine attempt at deflection, but I am a master of the art."
Akeelah bit her lip. "... trying to pick one," she mumbled, her cheeks now hot enough that Dorian must have been able to see it, human or not.
"For Sera?" he guessed. Akeelah nodded. "Hmmm…" He made a show of examining them, turning his head this way and that. "What's the occasion? Is she going to be slipping frogs into the First Enchanter's underthings or unleashing a swarm of hornets during our ambassador's next soiree? Fewer international repercussions for the first, but for personal protection you might want to give her the whole lot."
Akeelah stared determinedly at the teeth at his teasing.
He frowned at her silence. "If I am her next target, you are bound by the code of mage honor to inform me."
"It's not like that," she told the ground, picking up one of the Stormrider's fangs and lightly tracing her fingers along the deadly point.
"I don't believe I've ever seen you so flustered," Dorian laughed. "You're not proposing, are you?" She didn't answer, and his posture shifted. "Wait. Truly?" he asked, a swift burst of magic conjuring wind to disperse the dirt around his feet and dropping to sit cross-legged in the clean spot he'd made. "Are you proposing to Sera? … With dragon teeth? I mean, she's unconventional, it's true-"
"Dorian," Akeelah whined, cutting him off before he could continue his teasing. He fell silent, and when she glanced at him he was looking at her expectantly. She took a breath. "It's… it's not a proposal, exactly," she said, lowering her eyes again. "But it's… the closest thing Qunari have, I guess?"
He studied her for a moment. "An interesting choice, for a Vashoth," he said carefully.
"Yeah." She sighed. "That's part of the problem."
"Why not simply buy an engagement ring?" he asked, the teasing finally gone from his voice.
"I…" She adjusted herself as she tried to figure out how to explain, crossing her legs to mirror him. "It's a Qunari custom because Qunari don't get married. But I grew up with Tal Vashoth. They did it too. It was what they knew. Two necklaces made from one tooth, to symbolize that two people had chosen each other." She smiled faintly. "I used to look at the ones my parents wore and imagine the day I would grow up and fall in love and slay a dragon for someone. I thought that's what everyone did. I didn't know it was Qunari until I was older."
"That's… honestly quite sweet," Dorian said. "I say do it. Take it from them and make it yours." He gave her one of his most charming smiles. "Call it a family tradition."
Family tradition, she thought, and it sounded beautiful. "... I think I will."
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cherry-ber · 4 years
Text
“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy?”
Pairing: idol! Mark Lee x female reader
Plot: Lonesome creeps into everyone's mind, even those who seem to have it all.
Genre: fluff mostly, angst.
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, extremely painful for me to write this since I feel lonely idk if that triggers you too.
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A.N: inspired by the first draft of too drunk to fuck and my bff's dependence of wine to exist 😳 this took me 10 hours to write but it might still be pretty shit. And yeah Clueless some how
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After a long, long week of continuous recordings, dance practices, re-recordings and photo sessions, all he wanted to do, was sleep for twenty hours straight. He knew that he was a very lucky man, he was really living the dream. Not everyone was able to do what they loved, with people they genuinely liked, and still get payed for it, but he was. He had always been grateful, he knew the real value of things in real life, and sometimes he felt like he didn't even deserve it.
An insane amount of people knew his name, knew him, and constantly made sure that he knew how appreciated he was, but he couldn’t understand it at all. Sure, he proved himself over and over again how great he could be, and he was proud too, but why did people really loved him? Sometimes it's easy to lose yourself, but lately he was struggling even more, he felt lost and unworthy, he felt guilty, even, because he shouldn't feel this way.
Mark was home alone, after his friends went out to have dinner and drinks. He excused himself out of the reunion saying that he would call his parents and then heading straight to the bed. He wasn't lying at all, he did have a small call with his family, and then went to his room, expecting that he'd fall asleep soon and forget about what he was feeling, he was done with that for today.
He played a movie in his computer, knowing that whatever it was, he wasn't paying attention anyway. He hated to admit it, but he felt like he was missing something, rather, someone. He felt ridiculous, knowing how much people loved him, how many friends he had, but he couldn’t help it, he would be lying if he didn't say he could use a little company. Mark was busy most of the time, which, although tiring, was an escape from his loneliness, it was moments like this where he'd have enough time to sink in this small puddle of angsty feelings, that just grew until it was as big as an ocean. He couldn't explain why he felt so bad, he had enough friends to count on, and even when he considered he was only in need of a physical affect, it turned out to not be the answer, even when he masturbated, when he was finished, those feelings were still there. As the movie went on without him noticing, he turned his head to the side, and imagined someone next to him, wearing his clothes and stealing his blanket. He giggles, imagining cuddling someone to sleep, their heat making him feel home. He finally closes his tired eyes with a smile, hoping his dreams will be sweet and last long.
He wakes up in a bad mood, and doesn't really want to talk to anyone, his older friends notice, and decide to let him be, they know that if something is really wrong, he'll come to them eventually. After a quick shower, he decided he needed some privacy, some time alone, despite being scared of being stuck with himself, and went out on his own, ignoring the texts on the group chat, where everyone wondered where he was going. He had breakfast in a small Cafe, went to a movie matinee, an art gallery, a theater play, and then to a mall to buy himself expensive clothes. He had an okay day, and he grew a little bit of joy, finding himself alone and still almost enjoying his time, but mostly, ignoring his mind when he saw a couple, and wished he could have that too. He enters a restaurant, intending to order something take out for his friends, as an apology for being moody and worrying them. He waits stand up next to the door, with a cup of coffee they offered him, until he suddenly turns around after hearing his order being ready, and ceashes with someone as he does. He spilled his drink over his and their clothes. He starts apologizing, but all he gets as a response is a soft, sweet giggle. He looks to the stranger's face, and is met with a fond smile.
“It's okay, go get your food, I can fix myself”
He's caught off guard, and all he can do is shake his head yes and do as he is told, coming back to them, apologizing again.
“I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry” he's totally embarrassed, and he feels a blush running through his face.
“It's alright, it wasn't your fault”
The stranger walks inside to take a table, and he rushes out, walking back home. That giggle makes its way to his mind a couple times as he arrives.
After eating, he goes to bed, feeling somehow full with himself, but he doesn't know if it was after forcing himself to like him, or if he was so desperate for someone that a small interaction like that would get him sleepless thinking this person would be his person.
On that same week, he founds himself running into that same stranger everywhere. When he goes get coffee with his friends, when they go to buy groceries, when he heads to the studio, and he wonders if he should be worrying, but decides not to.
Surprisingly, he founds her again, when he is entering a new coffee shop, and she walks her way out. He opens the door for her, and is met with her fond smile again, that grows larger as she recalls his face. She mumbles a sweet 'thank you' and keeps walking. Some courage grows inside Mark, and blurts out whatever his brain was fast enough to say.
“Thanks for not spilling that coffee back” the young lady finds the sentence, although awkward, funny, and turns back to him to reply.
“Maybe I should pay for your coffee, though, you were enjoying it until I crashed into you” Her melodic voice is enough to put Mark in a trance, and loses control of what he's doing, disconnecting from his awkward self.
“Actually it was my fault” he giggles remembering how sweet she was, even after Mark probably just ruined her day “Did you get a horrible stain?”
She walks closer to him, small steps that make his heart beat faster.
“It wasn't horrible, I wouldn't say that, it was just, slightly bad”
“I don't want to be a weirdo, are you busy right now? I could use some chatting, and I really owe your laundry money”
She was never an outgoing person, but she was flattered by his proposal. She was meeting someone, but she figured it wouldn't be important enough to not cancel.
“I would love that, but you owe me nothing” she giggles and walks beside him into an empty table.
“I'm Mark, by the way”
“I know that” she laughs it off, attempting for things not to be awkward “My name is Y/N”
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It was only after several months, that Mark found himself, again, over thinking about how lonely he was, and how desperate he was for it to end. Whenever he had the chance, he'd spend time with his new friend, and for some weeks, thats was enough, until he realized that, all she wanted from him, was a friendship. His friends noticed, too, how after a while, that wasn't enough for him, but he was terrified he'd lose her, but they'd often try to help him out in whatever way other men would think was best, teasing her when she was at the dorms, insinuating how cute of a couple they'd be, and shamelessly asking if by any chance, she'd have feelings for him, never really giving away Mark's crush on her, not explicitly at least.
One afternoon, when they were all watching a movie together, when suddenly, Johnny and Taeyong convinced everyone to go out and have dinner, even after Mark suggested they just called the restaurant, because he was too tired to go out.
“Oh” Taeyong said, grabbing his keys and putting on a hat “then you can stay here with Y/N and order something and we can take our time”
The girl was a little disappointed, she loved spending time with the other guys two, but she agreed, knowing that Mark wouldn't want be convinced to leave the couch.
She sees then leave, and turns around to look at her friend, somehow aware of what his friends were trying to do; leave them alone, after last night they discussed Mark should just accept the reject, and confess. The boy asked, pleaded and begged them not to leave them alone, after he opened up about his feelings, but of course, his friends thought they'd know better.
“Can you order pizza while I take a shower?” his attention called back to where he was, as the sweet woman walked into the living room, with a bottle of wine and two cups. Mark chocked in his spit, when the thought of her showering, and how much he'd love to enter the scene, crossed his mind.
“Yeah, sure” he watched her walking away “Do you want some clothes?”
“Well, if I could steal one of your hodies tonight, I wouldn't mind”
He does as he's asked, calling a pizzeria and taking off his hoodie, hoping that she'd appreciate the smell of his cologne, that he wears only when she's coming around.
When she comes out, wearing her jeans and tank top, he throws the sweater at her, she puts it on and sits in the couch next to him, ready to start eating, reaching out for the bottle to serve them a cup after the first bite.
“I don't want to drink that” he'd never been a fan of alcohol, he knew he could use a boost, but he was still afraid of it.
“Huh? Why is that?”
“I don't drink wine” She recalled how he'd often drink with Johnny and her, whenever Johnny wanted to open a bottle, which happened quite often, but decided not to insist, although she did pour a cup for herself.
Mark, and any other men, really, always wondered what could she be thinking about, she was wild, energetic, but calmed and peaceful, she was always kind, but wouldn't hesitate to start a fight if to defend herself or someone else, she was never scared, but she was sensitive and fragile. He couldn't help the sigh that left his body, remembering why he had feelings for her in the first place. He knew how much she'd hate to be in a relationship, they had already discussed it, after some girl confessed to Mark, and she mentioned how relationships to her were useless, since she got all the love she wanted from her friends, and that way, she made sure that all the love she gave was reciprocal. When he told his manager about his feelings, expecting him to give him helpful advice, he just told him to forget about her. “women like her are too complicated, it's not worth it”. He wondered then, how many other guys would think the same, and refused to be one of those.
They were both full, and cuddling in the couch, she was sipping her second cup, when Mark suddenly poured a cup for himself too, and drank it in one large sip. He felt a rush through his body, his face flustered, and a numb sensation in his limbs. He was trying to keep himself still, but the sudden alcohol in his body made him bubbly and the woman next to him realized. The cheesy romcom that was playing on the back made him giggle in every other scene, and with every minute that went by, he felt looser and looser. He served another cup and drank it just as fast as the first one. Soon, he found himself leaning towards the body that sat next to him. Y/N pat her thigh, inviting Mark to rest his head there, which he did, while fidgeting with his fingers.
“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy” he lets out in a serious tone.
Giggly, his friend shakes her head no, and places her cup in the table in front of them. “Do you feel like sexy?”
He sits himself back, eyes wide open, same serious expression in his face.
“I guess so?” he laughs at how dumb he must sound “I feel... Jiggly”
Her sweet, loud laugh fills the room, and Mark is proud of himself for making her so happy.
“Love, you should go to sleep already” he feels his face hotter and hotter, and can only imagine how red he must be “you were already tired, I'll clean up and meet you in your room-”
Mark bursts out of his bubble and speaks
“Don't do that” he says softly, as if he was genuinely hurt by her words “Please, don't do that”
Worried, Y/N walks closer to him, “Do what?”
He looks down to his feet, feeling tears forming in his eyeballs, product of his low alcohol tolerance, and his overall emotional state. “Dont call me love. You don't love me”
She reaches for his hands, attempting to make him look straight at her eyes “Of course I love you Mark”
“Not the way I want you to”
She had never been good with other people's feelings, especially romantic feelings, she had a hard time catching indirects.
“In which way is that?” hesitant, Mark stares at her for a couple seconds, before staring at her lips, too numb to do better, he grabes her chin and pulls her closer to him, a sweet, slow kiss surprising her as much as himself. When he pulls away and expects a response of any kind, all she can do is try to look at him.
“Oh, Mark” she finally manages to say “is this the way you feel?” he nods, still nervous but hopeful that she'll feel the same “You're drunk, go to sleep” she turns around as she cleans as quick as she can, as mark makes his way to his room, or to the first room he sees open.
Before the other men living in the dorms arrive and ask questions that she doesn't want to answer, she leaves, leaving a post it note in the fridge for Mark”
“Drink water and have a painkiller,
I had to go home. Thanks for the wine
-Y/N”
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Too many weeks after, Mark calls her phone one more time before he enters the dorms, wondering if he had really done the worst thing in the world, for her to ghost him like that. He let a tired sigh out, grateful that he was home alone again. He goes to his room, ready to sleep for as long as he can, but when he opens the door, the lights are on, and in his bed sits what could be only described as an angel, beautiful as always, smiling and kind Y/N, with a cup of wine in her delicate hands, and another one on his nightstand, that she offers him as he's taking off his shoes and sweater.
With pain and regret in her eyes, as he's taking the first sip, she attempts to break the silence. “You ever notice how wine makes people feel sexy?”
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wendystales · 3 years
Text
Memories - lrh (Chapter Fourteen)
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Memories (also on Wattpad)
Chapter Thirteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Fifteen
We stopped in front of the new location of The Art of Taste, where a group of people were waiting to enter. The entire facade was lit with small bulbs wrapped around the bushes, which framed the outside.
My mom is the first out of the car, excited, barely expecting Luke and me. She takes the lead, going straight to security and showing us our invitations.
“She's very excited”. Hemmo comments from beside me, offering me his arm.
“You have no idea.” I open a smile.
We followed my mother as she led the way, looking for Mr. Marshall. I appreciate the decor of the place and fall in love with the small wooden bridge that leads into the restaurant, passing by a pond with koi.
"Debra! You came!” Mr. Marshall approaches as excited as my mother. “You’re stunning.” her cheeks blush.
“Oh, not that much. It's an old little dress I had in the back of the closet.” she lowers her head shyly.
"Didn't she say she bought the dress today?" Luke whispered confusedly to me, almost making me laugh. I watch the two lovebirds praising and flirting like two teenagers.
"Marnie! I'm happy for your presence too.” he hugs me. “You must be Luke! Debra talks about you a lot.” he opens a sympathetic smile.
Subtly, I widen my eyes at my mom, wanting to scold her, but she just shrugged, ignoring me. Luke smiles sympathetically and handles the situation perfectly.
Mr. Marshall takes us to a more private table and away from the window for more privacy. I sit next to Luke, having a full view of whoever enters the restaurant.
“I'm going to have the menu degustations served, and if you don't mind, I'm going to steal Debra for a while.” he smiles at my mother.
“Be my guest!” I open a tight smile, very happy for them.
"Is there something I should know?" Luke asks me after the two walk away arm in arm.
“They're in love, but they don't know what to do.” Summary, still watching the them.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me about it." Luke repeats the same thing I said yesterday. I let out a laugh, disbelieving his audacity.
“Sorry, there was no time.” I raise my eyebrows, like he does.
Yesterday was a special night with Luke. After Urban Light, we went to Santa Monica, to sit on the sand and watch the sea, illuminated by the lights from the pier. It was fun to have this time with him without anyone looking at us like fools for whatever move we made.
It was nice to meet him and know everything he likes and dislikes, as well as getting to know the band's history better. For moments like this, just the two of us, I could let him get closer, totally letting my guard down and creating a better relationship.
Of course because of this endless conversation we had and cause we got super late back home, today I woke up looking like a zombie and only managed to get out of bed by a miracle. But even tired, I would do everything exactly the same, just to be able to spend this time with him.
"Should we wait for the girls?" I question, seeing a board of small toast and various types of sauces and pates being served to us.
“I believe not!” he's the first to take the toast and dip it in a red sauce.
I follow him, quickly taking two and sinking into the same sauce. Tomato and basil. I let out an exclamation when I taste it. I start to eat more, after all, I didn't even have time to have lunch today and I didn't even want to, because I knew I would eat here.
I had invited everyone to come to the opening today, but only Luke, Leah, and Kyleen agreed right away. Calum, Ash and Noah had other commitments and Michael also tried to use this one, but Ashton soon revealed the lie, saying that he was actually going on a date, with that Sophie.
"You didn't have lunch today, did you?" I stop the toast in the air, mouth open, watching Luke look me curious.
“I didn’t have time.” I answer a little embarrassed.
“Well, if we run out of those toast, just ask for more.” he takes one more, sinking now into a green pate. I watch his face, trying to guess what that would be.
“Pesto?” I ask, looking at the pot. Luke denies it. I smell the content not identifying much.
"A bitter taste." he make a face. “No! It's a good bitter.” he adds quickly.
When I least notice, Hemmings and I are playing russian roulette with sauce and pates. We just don't know how to just eat quietly, we have to play.
"Bad?" I ask, watching him close his eyes and wrinkle his nose. Luke nodded, swallowing and eating another toast with the tuna pate, which was what we liked best.
"A taste of… I can't explain it. Eats!” he offers me the toast with the white pate and small green bits.
“No! Don't you know what it is and want to push it to me?” I drop the toast on my plate, wanting distance.
Interrupting our little discussion, Leah and Kyleen arrive.
“Sorry we’re late. There was an accident on the expressway. Have you started eating yet?” Leah glances across the table sulkily.
"M&Ms didn't have lunch." Luke hands it to me. I slap his arm.
“Great, there are two of us.” Kiki smiles, already eating some toast. "What is this one?" she points to the weird pate.
“We haven't eaten yet, but try it there.” Hemmings encourages, surprising me with his performance. I stare at him laughing.
Like Luke, Kiki grimaces, disapproving of the pate. I offer my glass of juice to her, which she drinks in one gulp.
“This is horrible. What is that?” she whispers disgustedly.
Luke steals the menu from the next table, looking for the pate. I squint at the ingredients: ricotta, gorgonzola and pickles. I understand why it's horrible.
It doesn't take long and more stuff arrives at our table. Once again, we started our russian roulette, trying everything out and grading, as if we were at MasterChef. We really don't have maturity for anything.
Looking at the restaurant entrance, I start nudging Luke, flustered, discreetly asking him and the girls to look too. Surprised and excited, we watched Michael approach our table, hand in hand with a girl shorter than him.
“Is it her?” I try to contain my excited voice.
“It's her!” Hemmo confirms.
“Okay! But who is she?” Kyleen asks, lost.
“They met at a game match and now Michael is in love.” I almost run over my words, trying to deliver the information before they arrived.
"I didn't tell you." Luke already takes his off the line.
“Hey!” Michael sighs standing next to the table.
“Hey!” aside from Luke, the girls and I were all smiles.
“This is Sophie! My friend.” Mike introduces. The girl with dark hair and two streaks white, like Narcissa in Harry Potter, smiles shyly.
“Sorry for the delay, we got lost.” her voice is low.
“Actually, I didn't want to come.” Michael doesn't even bother to lie. If it wasn't a public place, I'd throw a shoe on him.
Sophie excuses herself and heads to the bathroom as we pull another table for them. Michael sits across from Luke, leaving Sophie in mine and Leah beside her.
“Please, I'll pay you whatever you want, but don't embarrass me.” Mike begs. “I like her a lot.” he admits it quietly.
"Awn!" me and the girls hold hands, dying of love.
“I hate you.” he declares.
“To show that we are willing to help, do not eat the white pate. It’s not from this world. And not in the good way.” Leah warns him.
Sophie returns to the table, taking a seat across from me. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice how Michael's posture becomes tense. He's so into her. Without needing much, we start a conversation and Sophie slowly walks in, forming a group.
“This gaming field must be shit, right? I mean, for who is a woman, isn't it?” Kyleen asks.
“Yea! No man likes to lose to a woman. They never accept that I play better than they do. Cause of this, when Michael called me, I thought he was going to argue with me.” she gives a shy smile.
"Actually, I was going to ask for my shield back." he gives an ashamed laugh.
"And complain to me how you lost." she completes, making him laugh. The way they look at each other makes my heart melt.
The four of them get carried away on a subject as I approach Luke.
“They're really cute.” I whisper.
"I think we're both a lot cuter." he snaps, smiling. I open a smile, denying the way he's sassy.
“You were not like this.” I comment with a smile. I take my gaze to the hall, finding my mother walking with Mr. Marshall, still arm in arm. "I think they're cuter than us." Luke follows my gaze.
“All right! She's your mother, I'll give you my arm. Do you think they'll be together?”
“I hope!”
“Are you gossiping about Debra?” I am startled by Kyleen approaching me and joining in our conversation.
"What's the gossip with Debra?" Leah already turns her attention to us.
"Is there gossip about Debra?" Michael leans against the table, moving closer.
I look at the curious faces trying to identify how my mom became the subject of the table. If she knows this, she will kill me!
"Don't let her know that." I declare before I lean against the table and tell her about my mother and Mr. Marshall.
Friday
I feel terrible, not only for the cramps and indisposition, but mainly for having to cancel with Luke. I've waited so long for this date and now I'm here, lying on the couch, suffering for being born a woman.
“Here.” Leah hands me a pain killer and a hot water bottle. I lay my head on her lap, wanting to cry. “It's OK.” she repeats calmly as she cuddles me. She knows why. “You can go out next week, he won't change his mind until then.”
“I know he won’t, but…” I catch my throat, not wanting to accept that I would cry about this, but I can't control it, letting a few tears fall. Damn hormones. “I don't know if I can make it another week, I was so excited.” my voice crack it. “Stop laughing!” I scream when I feel her body move.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! But you look so funny like this. Sorry.” she hugs me, holding back her laughter.
Before I can complain, the doorbell rings and I'm grateful that Kiki has finally arrived with food and a lap where I can cry more. Leah runs to open the door and I feel my heartbeat stop for seconds when his voice reaches me. I lift my head, seeing him come in full of bags and a Petunia on a leash.
“What are you doing here?” I quickly dry my face and try to fix my hair. I look awful. Luke looks at me confused and opens his arms, as if the answer is wide open there.
“I came to take care of you, of course.” he laughs. Leah is behind him, smiling like hell.
I sink my face into the pillow, wanting to cry more. I don't deserve him. I don’t deserve. Luke lets go of Petunia, who runs off to try to climb onto the couch and lick me. Leah helps Luke empty the bags in the kitchen.
While they straighten everything out in the kitchen, I go back to tidying up my appearance, trying to look at least presentable.
"I brought some soup that Calum made. Pain killers, sweets and some facial masks, This always helps you relax and get better.” he comes closer and I just want to bury myself. I look awful.
“I can't believe you came here and still brought all this.” my heart melts at the attitude and smile he gives.
"I'm sorry if you thought you were going to get rid of me." he sits beside me with a bowl of soup, pleasant smell by the way. I move closer, almost getting under his arms and snuggling into his chest. However, I still keep a safe distance and control my urges to cling to him.
“Well, since you’re very well cared for and accompanied. I think I'm on my way.” Leah still has the smile. “Get well.” she kisses my cheek. "Anything, call me. And you, take good care of her.” she orders Luke.
“Promise!” he raises his right hand.
Leah left, leaving us alone. Petunia lying on my lap, curious about the hot water bottle. Luke beside me, holding the bowl and spoonful of broth toward me.
"You know you don't have to spoon-feed me, don't you?" I ask before opening my mouth.
"Can you let me take care of you?" he counters, falsely sulking.
“You can, just don't need…”
“Sh-sh! Eat the soup.” he advances another spoonful into my mouth. I roll my eyes, silent.
"Calum who did it?" I ask impressed, after a few spoonfuls.
“He's been taking some cooking lessons, especially now that he's turned vegetarian.”
"You should do it too, to stop making eggs in the microwave." I let a fake smile in the end.
"Worried about me?" he asks smiling.
"Shut up and give me the soup." I ignored him, taking a deep breath and not smiling under his amused gaze.
Between spoonfuls, I play with Petunia, already feeling much better. At least the urge to cry has passed.
"You said you brought candy." I knelt on the couch, watching him carry the bowl of soup to the sink. Luke laughs, grabbing some white and pink boxes from the fridge.
“Yes, I believe sugar can help.” he puts the boxes on the table and pulls Petunia onto the rug. “You don’t!” she barks. “You can’t!” she barks louder. “Hey! Come! I'll give you your food.” I watch her follow him into the kitchen.
I open the first white box seeing a generous piece of Red Velvet. I pick up the fork he brought and already steal a piece. In the second box, I find four cupcakes and four donuts. My eyes widen as I open the third box.
"Did you go to Mr. Marshall's restaurant?" I question shocked.
“Yea! You said you liked his chocolate cake. He made this one especially for you.” I look at the smaller size cake.
“I don't remember him decorating with M&Ms.” I comment, stealing a piece already.
“Oh, I asked him to do it.”
I close my eyes, letting my body react to that information any way it wants to. He asked them to put M&Ms on my cake because he knows I like it.
Luke returns to sit beside me, picking up a white chocolate cupcake. I hold the box of Red Velvet in my lap, recklessly eating the cake.
"Argh! I feel so guilty. I'm going to get fat like this.” I complain, but without stopping eating.
“You are indisposed, you can eat what you want. Tomorrow we worry about our weight.” Luke speaks with his mouth full.
"I thought you didn't like red desserts." I comment, watching him take a full fork of my cake.
“How do you know that?” he looks at me curiously. Then I realize I've been cornered.
“In an interview last year.” then I fill my mouth, making it impossible for me to continue the conversation.
"Are you still googling me?" he puts again that amused/satisfied smile on his face.
“Of course, you were my boyfriend. I need to know what kind of people I'm getting involved with.” I shrug.
“I understood. Well, I really don't like it. I don't understand the need to make it red.”
“It's to be more aesthetically beautiful. It's like wearing makeup. You use it and looks more beautiful, it enhances your beauty.” Luke stares at me, holding back his laughter. I've seen this same expression when I defended my M&M’s organizer.
“Well, I know you're crazy about this cake, so I brought it.” he shrugs, like it's no big deal. But for me it's something. If Luke still has any intentions of winning me back, he's doing great.
“Thanks.” I advance toward him, kissing his cheek in shyly. I notice Luke is ashamed too, but maintains his pose.
After we stuff ourselves with candy. Luke and I were in the bathroom, trying to put on those face masks. At first I thought he brought it just for me, but when I saw him putting it on, I understood that he would participate body and soul in that night with me.
“This isn't right.” he comments still struggling with that piece of material.
"You didn't put it upside down, did you?" I approach trying to help.
“No! The eyes are here. So why don't stay?” I see the mask slip off his face. I hold back a laugh, taking the material from his hands.
"If you take the cape off, it stays." I pull out the plastic that holds the oils and put it on his face.
“Makes more sense.” he comments, watching me massage his face. “I need to shave.” he says as I massage his cheeks.
“No!” the answer comes out faster than I can think.
Luke stares at me in surprise at the revelation. With my hands still on his face, I notice the mood and walk away, drying my hands.
“And now?” I stare at him behind me in the mirror. Luke just raises his hands and shakes his fingers, demonstrating that we're going to get our nails done. The scene itself is so funny it makes me laugh. He's the best boyfriend anyone could have. "I think we'd better wait the twenty minutes for the mask, so as not to blur our work."
“Truth. Let's get back to the series then.” he turns around, his back to me, crouching down a little. I grab his shoulders and push off, climbing on his back. And like this, we go back to the room, on piggyback.
I go back under the covers, grateful that I'm sitting down because my legs are killing me. How can something that stays in the womb fuck my entire body? I shift uncomfortably, not finding a position that would make my legs stop hurting.
“Is it everything OK?” he asks, hitting play on The Office.
“My legs.” I answer softly, lying down on the couch with my head next to him.
“Turn. Put your legs here.” he pats his lap. I roll over on the couch, leaving my legs in his lap, where within seconds Luke starts massaging my legs.
I roll my eyes, feeling my body soften. A moan wants to escape, but I hold it with all the strength in the world, along with the treacherous declaration that explodes in my chest. They were three dangerous words that could mess with him more than anything else.
“You are incredible!” I exchange the words, feeling more secure in that expression. The blonde chuckles, shaking his head as he squeezes my foot.
I can't focus for a minute on TV. The feel of him touching my skin so gently and stiffly steals all my attention. I shift my gaze between him and the screen so I don't get so in the face that I'm staring at him.
After twenty minutes of the mask, we went back to the bathroom, washing our faces and then starting to do our nails. I'm sitting, glued to Luke, my hand propped up on a pillow in his lap as he applies the black nail polish. Once again I shift my gaze between him and the new episode, but I don't care if he catches me staring in the meantime.
"Did we do that a lot?" I inquire softly. Luke doesn't answer me with words, too focused on his work, just nodding his head positively.
“Especially when you were feeling bad, or when I was really tired and stressed out.” he complements after finishing a hand. “Tv shows, candies, beauty treatments and massage. Once you wanted to invent climbing on my back, massaging me with your feet.” he starts to smile, still focused.
“I'm sorry.” I lay my head against his shoulder. Let out a low laugh, focused on him.
“It wasn't one of our best ideas. But I can't deny that it wasn't good.”
"Were you happy with me? I mean, we had a good relationship, didn't we?” I question after a while.
Luke stops and stares at the wall, maybe thinking. I analyze your profile apprehensive about the delay. Then his eyes connect to mine. It's like a screen, I don't need the answer anymore, it's there, explicit in the glow of his eyes.
“Yes. I believe we had a great relationship.” he goes back to painting my nails, putting the last coat on.
“Itn't was those weird, honeyed types, was it?” curiosity takes me more every second. Luke holds back a laugh, denying it.
“No! I tried once, but you hit me with the pillow. But that's not our style either. It's like wanting Leah to be cute.” he shrugs. "Don't let her know that." he looked at me in alarm.
“I won’t! Honestly, I'm glad it's you here.” he stops and looks at me curiously. “You know…not that she's not amazing. Even because she was taking really good care of me, but…” I swallow with his gaze so fixed on me. Oh Lord, where are the words?! “You are you!” I shrug. "Don't let her know that." I ask in an alarmed way, as well as he.
“I'm me?” he turns more to me.
“Yeah!” I take a deep breath, trying to find myself in the mess I decided to make. “You seem to know how to handle this whole situation and cause…" Why is it so hard for me to say that I enjoy his company? “You know…I like being with you.” I whisper, wanting to crumble into thin air and disappear.
I lower my gaze, not holding that moment. I've known Luke for a month. I know that he only has size and age in his identity, that inside he is as child and silly as the guys. But there's something about him, so subtle and unobtrusive, that intimidates me so much.
“I like being with you too… but something tells me you already know.” the playful tone breaks the pit of shame I was in. I open a shy smile, going back to watching him finish painting my nails.
“Can I ask you something?” I question fearfully, after he finishes. Luke nodded. "How was that day? The one from the accident.”
He just stops. His jaw locks and that glint in his eyes fades. He leans back against the sofa, snorting. I feel bad for causing this discomfort. I'm even thinking about withdrawing the question, however, Luke is already starting to speak.
“You had gone to rehearse for Vogue and then we were supposed to go to lunch cause I turned off your alarm, and then you were late and we can't have breakfast together.” he narrates quietly and with a lost look.
"Why did you turned off my alarm?" I frown, confused.
"Cause I thought that way you'd stay home with me." I pick up my lips, pressing them together so I don't laugh at his pout. “Well, I was at the restaurant when it happened. The manager came to me and told me what happened, apparently was already on the news.” he takes a deep breath before continuing. “I was the first to arrive, but you were already in attendance, so I only saw you in your room a couple hours later.”
"The nurse said you slept there." I comment quietly, letting my mind wander to that day. Your cheeks are easily pink.
"I wasn't leaving your side." he answers in the same tone.
“Sorry I got you into this. And for being stupid the first time we met…again.” I add.
“It's OK! I mean, it was kind of good.” I widen my eyes, not understanding. “By making you fall in love with me again, I also ended up falling in love with you all over again.”
My heart races. The revelation takes me by surprise, not giving me time to hide the stupid grin gaping at my face. I roll my eyes, looking at the TV, which is currently playing with Jim asking Pam on a date. Ironically, she had the same stupid smile as mine.
"I never said I'm in love with you." I try to maintain my dignity, or whatever I'm supposed to maintain at a time like this.
“It's just a matter of time.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shrug. “You've already admitted that you like being with me. For those who hated me in that hospital, enjoying my presence is already a big step forward.”
I bite my lip, closing my eyes. He can’t be serious.
"I never said I hated you." I look at him, who was focused on the TV.
"And you never said you're not in love with me either." he blinks, smiling in amusement.
“I hate you!” I say loud enough.
“In seventh grade, when a girl said she hated a boy, it's because she liked him.” Luke comments, leaving me speechless, my mouth hanging open. "I will take your silence as a yes."
I kneel down on the couch, taking the pillow from my lap and hitting it. Hemmings starts to laugh as he shields himself from the flurry of beatings I give him. My God, how I hate him.
I return to sit on the couch more relieved, but still with my heart pounding. It's a mixture of very random feelings. I want to hit him at the same time I want to kiss him as I sink his head into the coffee table, telling him how much I like him.
The desire to let these feelings take over me fascinates me. But that's not how I wanted everything to happen between us. Expected to be a little more romantic, with me more tidy and less messy.
"You made me smudge my nail." Finally, I accuse him, sulking.
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corie-the-writer · 4 years
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Won’t Let Go - Prologue
Summary: Sophia Herrmann arrives back to Chicago after a long four years away. Wanting to keep her past a secret and struggling to find her passion, what happens when her past decides to pay her a visit refusing to let things die? Will the charming Detective Jay Halstead help keep the demons at bay, or will the skeletons from the past be too much to handle?
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Prologue: 
Sophia Herrmann had a great childhood growing up, raised by great parents, with three younger brothers and one younger sister. Even though Sophia was almost thirty years old, her parents Cindy and Christopher had her when they were extremely young. Growing up around the firehouse, going to church on Sundays, Sophia wanted to explore life once she had graduated college. She wanted to see what the world had to offer her outside of Chicago. 
The deal was that Sophia would graduate college, then take a year off to explore what ever avenue she had wanted. Sophia agreed, got a bachelor's degree in education with a major in art. Instead of going to college in Chicago, Sophia had gotten a scholarship to Purdue University in Indiana.
Once she had graduated, Sophia had went to Chicago for two weeks to spend time with her family, and then set off to Europe for a week vacation, that gave her a chance to backpack through the unfamiliar cities, and once she had gotten back to the states, she had explored different parts of the United States. 
Sophia had met so many people through her time exploring. She had met some of the greatest people she had ever come across, and also had met some people she would have never liked to cross paths with, but she marked each experience as a learning lesson. 
Now being back in Chicago, as much as Sophia had wanted to stay with her parents, there was just not enough room with four younger siblings. With not having enough time to find a place of her own, Christopher and Cindy was allowing her to stay in the apartment above the bar Molly's, that her father had owned. 
The small apartment was filled with different canvases of paintings she had created since being back in her hometown for two weeks. Most of the portraits were of scenes she had seen in her time of traveling. Some vibrant, some dark, each fitting to the different people and experiences she had came across. For the long haired woman, painting and drawing was an outlet. Not ever fully able to express what her heart felt, it came out perfectly through brush and pencil. All Sophia needed was to get the emotions out some how and art was how she did that. 
Since she had been back for almost two weeks without a job, even though she had money saved from different forms of work, mostly through paintings she had sold, she felt like she was useless. She had convinced her father to hire her as a bartender at Molly's. 
Glancing to the clock, seeing that it was going on eight in the evening, Sophia put her paint brush down, needing to get ready for her shift downstairs. 
Taking a quick shower to get the paint off of her, Sophia had washed her hair and body quickly. Once she was done, she wrapped a towel around her body, and then her hair. Using her hand to wipe the fog off the mirror, Sophia began to brush her teeth. Once she had spit the toothpaste out, she had started to apply her make-up for the evening. Applying simple foundation, concealer and contour, Sophia had went with a subtle smoky eye to make her dark blue eyes stand out more. Once she was satisfied with her make-up, she had began to towel dry her dark brown hair, brushed out the tangles, and then grabbed her hair dryer. When it had became dry enough, Sophia tilted her head to pile the hair and secured it into a messy bun at the top of her head. 
Walking out of the small bathroom and to her dresser, Sophia picked a pair of panties and a bra and let the towel drop to put the fabric on. Moving to her closet, Sophia grabbed a pair of distressed black skinny jeans, wiggled them on and then moved to grab a white V-neck shirt, then grabbed a her favorite red flannel to slip on, making sure to roll up the sleeves some. Once she had gotten comfortable in the clothes she had picked, she moved to put on a pair of socks, followed by her black low rise boots. 
Once she had adjusted her clothing, she had sprayed some perfume on, she grabbed her cell phone from her bed and stuffed it into the back pocket of her jeans and headed out the door. 
When she had gotten down to the bar she was surprised to see most of Firehouse 51 already posted up in seats around the bar, and some of Chicago PD filing in through the door. 
"Hey..." Sophia smiled to her father who was behind the bar with Stella Kidd. 
"Hey kid." Christopher smiled back as he was cleaning a few glasses, "Can you work the floor tonight?" Christopher questioned and Sophia gave him a nod. 
Sophia looked around the bar to notice that a lot of people had yet to have drinks on the table, so she had came up with the game plan of starting from the furthest wall and work her way towards the front door. Grabbing her notepad from behind the bar, Sophia had walked back around to hit up the first table. 
"Hey guys..." Sophia smiled to the unfamiliar faces, "What can I get for you?" Sophia questioned. 
"Can we get a round of tequila shots and four house beers?" A red headed man stated. Sophia quickly jotted it down and gave them a nod, "Oh and how about some of them pretzels." He added. 
"Coming up." Sophia smiled as she turned to walk away to fill the tables order. Sophia had quickly worked through the first five tables, making sure that their drinks were filled and then finally landed on the table that held Chief Boden, Kelly Severide, Matt Casey, Sylvie Brett, Kim Burgess and Adam Ruzek. 
"Hey Soph!" Sylvie and Kim greeted her with bright smiles which she automatically returned. 
"Hey guys, what can I get for you?" Sophia questioned to the table as three other men approached, her immediately noticing Kevin Atwater and Hank Voight. 
"Herrmann already got us." Chief Boden smiled kindly, "How are you liking being back in Chicago?" Boden questioned as Sophia noticed a tall light haired man with freckles looking at her as he adjusted in the seat he had pulled up, then turning her attention back to the Chief. 
"It's been great so far, can't really complain." Sophia smiled brightly then turned to the three men who arrived to the table late, "What can I get for you guys?" Sophia questioned.
"Can we just get another round for them too?" Chief Boden questioned causing Sophia to turn her attention to the older man and gave him a nod. 
Sophia had left the table after stealing a glimpse of the light haired man, noticing the badge and gun near his jeans, how the black t-shirt hugged his chest and biceps, and quickly went behind the bar to get the tables drinks. As she was putting the bottles on the tray, Sophia found herself looking up feeling a set of eyes on her and noticed the man's bright blue eyes staring back at her for a moment before Kim Burgess said something to him, causing him to look away. 
"Girl..." Stella Kidd chuckled causing Sophia to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing, "That's Jay Halstead." Stella commented, "He's a hottie." The dark haired woman playfully elbowed Sophia's side. 
"I don't know what you're even talking about." Sophia joked cluelessly, causing Stella to playfully glare at her as she carried the tray of drinks out from the bar and took it to the table. 
Once Sophia had delivered the drinks to all of the tables, she was now behind the bar helping Stella stock the bars drinks, cleaning the glasses and restocking. Sophia had noticed that Jay Halstead would occasionally steal glances in her direction, softly smiling behind the beer bottle he held. 
As the bar settled, Sophia was leaning against the counter listening to Joe Cruz and Otis talking about different food dishes. Otis was trying to explain to Joe what his favorite Russian dishes were, and Sophia couldn't help but to giggle. 
"You've been to Pizza Hut and gotten a calzone before, right?" Sophia commented after taking a drink of her beer and watched Joe nod his head, "That is basically what a Priozhki is, just so much better!" Sophia explained causing Otis to slam his hand on the counter happily. 
"Finally, someone who gets it!" Otis smiled brightly causing Sophia to laugh, "You went to Russia didn't you?" Otis questioned. 
"For about two days." Sophia commented, "Long enough to eat delicious food, site see and pick up a couple of phrases." 
Otis and Cruz looked in amusement, "Oh boy, here we go..." Cruz mumbled behind his beer bottle, and watched as Otis started speaking in Russian to Sophia. 
Sophia watched in amusement as Otis began to speak fluently in Russian, only being able to pick up a couple of words because of how quickly he spoke. 
"I only got, how are you, did you enjoy Russia and something about night." Sophia commented, noticing that the red headed man was waving for her across the room causing her to roll her eyes a little towards Joe and Otis, since the man had started getting a little rowdy with his friends, "I'll be back..." Sophia smiled, and headed out from behind the bar. 
Jay Halstead had been watching the young woman all night. He had been out on an undercover case for the past month, and now that the case was closed, he had wanted to catch up with his co-workers. He had decided to join them at Molly's for a few beers. 
When he had arrived he didn't expect to see a new face, one that was absolutely beautiful on top of that. Jay had been quite embarrassed when he stumbled over his words when she spoke to him, but quickly recovered. Ruzek and Atwater had gave him a questioning look, and he quickly dismissed it to being tired. Jay had spoke to his friends, and when Sylvie and Kim began talking about the mystery woman Sophia, he had questioned who exactly she was. 
He had quickly found out that Sophia was the oldest daughter of Christopher and Cindy Herrmann, and just recently moved back to Chicago after being gone for almost four years. 
With the way Jay was facing, he was able to watch as Sophia approached a table with unfamiliar faces. Jay finished off his beer as he watched the red-headed man grabbed ahold of Sophia's elbow when she had tried to walk away from the table and slapped her butt. 
Before Jay could stop himself from seeing how Sophia would handle it, he had shot up from his chair and closed the distance quickly, noticing that Ruzek, Atwater, Severide and Casey were all behind him. 
"Hey, get your hands off of her." Jay quickly moved to the man's wrist, pushing his body between Sophia's and the mans, "I think it's time for you and your friends to leave." 
The red-headed man let out a laugh, moving to stand up and come to nose to nose with Jay, "And who are you to tell me what to do, my father?" The man laughed in the detective's face. Jay turned to look over his shoulder, looking to Kevin and then to Sophia who was standing directly behind him, and watched as Kevin gently grabbed her arm and pulled her back behind him, knowing what was about to happen. 
"You have two choices, either leave on your own or we'll escort you out." Jay stated simply. 
"Guys..." Jay was aware of Sophia trying to speak up, but Jay did not like another man touching her in the way he did, so he had chose to ignore her soft voice, "This is not necessary..." Sophia added. 
"Listen to your little bitch." The red-headed man taunted. 
Jay let out a low chuckle and ran a hand over his face before drawing back and socking the man right in the jaw. The man stumbled, his friends tried to jump in to help them, but the men from Firehouse 51 and Intelligence quickly stepped in. The man wiped his mouth, recovering from the punch for a split second before trying to throw a punch towards Jay's face, which he had saw coming, dodging the fist, and then used his left hand to hit the man in the ribs. 
"ENOUGH!" Christopher Herrmann raised his voice, pushing through the men to reach Halstead and the unknown man. He quickly pushed them apart. A look of fury was sketched on his face, "If you two want to fight, you take this outside." Christopher stated, "If I so much as see your face in this bar again, I will not stop anyone from kicking your ass if you ever lay a hand on my daughter again." Christopher sneered, "Take him out back." Christopher added to Jay. 
Sophia was surrounded by Otis and Joe, making sure that she was out of harms way as the familiar faces dragged the red-headed man and his friends out of the bar. 
"Welcome back Soph..." Joe chuckled behind his beer bottle.
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theseagull16 · 4 years
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Pixel
in case you haven't noticed from the clothes this story doesn't take place in the modern day it takes place around the end of the 18th century around the end of Victorian times in something similar to 1907 pixels is not her real name her real name is Pamela she changed it to pixel to sound more creative when she run away from home but it's just a coincidence that it's the same spelling and name to computer pixels pixel was always a very feisty and wildly person she would get angry and annoyed easily and would sometimes get aggressive when really wild up she would sometimes even be aggressive to a parents where I who were a posh uptight family he was wealthy and believe in the idea that the young ladies should be ladylike and not too wild and faustian interested in stuff like work and art you must remember this was a different time at back then everything was sexist being the only girl of 4 brothers she offered felt like she was left out and not allowed to do the stuff she liked but she still rebel though but her parents still force her to live at home and refused to let her get a job one day she had enough when she overheard her parents planning to marry her off to a old man to save their business that was in bankruptcy she blew a big fit and refused to do anything with their plan seeing that she didn't like the guy didn't even know him didn't even know what he look like and didn't want to marry him anyway so that night she run away at the same time Archie was continuing his new Life of crime one day the which came to him through the orb of the necklace apparently she see him from the necklace and found his suffering of committing a crime attaining but she got bored of him doing the same crime over and over again which was to steal from border just to stop him turning into a reptile she came to him and forced him to kidnap someone or turn into a full-on lizard by the next day if you commit the same time over and over again I will come to you and make you do one of my choosing with little choice Archie had to kidnap someone so he grabbed the biggest sack and went to town his plan was to catch the first person he sees and take them to the manor he didn't care who anyone the plan wasn't to harm anyone his plan was to basically take them to the manor and let them live in the manor for they won't tell anyone or call the police for he won't end up either experimented on or in a zoo and unfortunately that happened to be pixel pixel put up a good fight she frash and kicked in the sack all the way to the manor and wouldn't stop screaming as soon as she was there she tried to punch border and Archie in the face Archie hid by climbing on the ceiling he had claws so he was able to climb on the ceiling and border desperately try to calm her down he explained the whole situation pixel didn't believe border at first but after getting a good look at Archie and then saw the necklace and then believe them she demanded to leave but then Archie climb down from the ceiling with a nervous voice told her that she wasn't able to leave she got into a huge fit again and had to be taken to a room to come down it took 10 minutes to drag her into a room she would have knocked the door down if it wasn't for the fact it was made of metal for the next 2 days pixel try to escape hundreds of time Archie and border tried to stop her and succeeded she only got as far as the garden and because they lived 3 miles away from the nearest town nobody saw or heard her after 2 days he got tired and started crying Archie and border try to calm her down and told her that she could live here and have whatever she wished and do whatever she like she then told her then her whole story and then border came up with a fantastic idea why not become an painter here she was confused at first but then Archie and border explained if you become the maid of this manor you can get paid to get art supplies to become a artist and sell your work to businesses without needing to leave the manor you can start your career here and never need to leave she thought about it for a moment
and she agreed as long as if Archie's spell is gone she be allowed to leave immediately if one day his spell disappeared
she still lives there to this day and is mean on purpose to Archie and border sometimes just to get her own back
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They helped
Request 
Pairing: Avenger x reader, Bucky Barnes x reader, Bruce Banner x reader
Warning: insomnia, depression, anxiety, self-harm, fluff
Summary: She has some health issues and the team has finally noticed. They think since they know it will go away just like that and everything will be okay. Fortunately, Bucky and Bruce know otherwise.
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She was a triple wamy, not double triple, She had insomnia, depression, and anxiety. She had anxiety always worried if something wasn't perfect, nervous someone was watching her, worry she said something wrong. All this eventually lead to depression thinking she wasn't good enough, accepting all her failures, not liking the sound of her own beating heart. And this lead to insomnia her thoughts were running so fast she couldn't sleep or wake up. All together it was a disaster but she managed to handle it and become an Avenger. 
But then again all she was doing was handling it and it eventually got out of control. And then the voice began.
Worthless.
You can't do it.
Just die.
Then came .... the long sleeves.
A quintuple wamy which she could not handle.
Waste of time.
Waste of space,
Wast of oxygen.
Just die.
die.
die.
DIE.
"(y/n),(y/n) are you alright?" Clint asked waving his hand in front of her face
" I'm sorry" 
"you kind of zoned out. What were you thinking about?" she sat on the counter next to Clint and in front of Natasha 
"You've been zoning out a lot lately, are you okay?" she asked. How do you ly to an assassin? By telling the truth.
"I'm just tired Haven't been able to sleep lately. I'm going to see if I could steal some meds from Bruce"
"Okay, let us know if you still need help" Clint called she waved them off and went to Bruce's lab.
Fat.
waste.
Don't disturb him.
He doesn't want you.
No one wants you.
"Hi Bruce, need any help?" 
He doesn't want you.
Bruce looked up and smiled at (y/n) he seemed to be doing some science stuff she didn't understand. "Hi (y/n), I'm actually good" see he doesn't want you "but I could use some company, talk while I work" (y/n) smiled he did want her. That silenced the voices a bit.
"of course, it must be lonely here without  your science bro"
"Tony is actually quite annoying" so are you. (y/n) took a deep breath and asked "what are you making?" leaning on the counter she accidentally moving her selves up showing her cuts.
"I'm- I'm..." Bruce stopped talking and started staring at her arm (y/n) didn't notice. Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm um..." Bruce began to use big science words to explain what he was doing then notice (y/n) was looking like he had grown two heads. "I'm mixing chemicals to make something cool." Finally understandable.
"well I can't do... science so I'll go. Let me know when you're done sciencing" (y/n) got up to leave. "Oh, and (y/n) I'm here if you need me"
Lier. He doesn't want you.
waste of space.
worthless.
no one needs you.
no one wants you.
"Thanks, Bruce"
He doesn't want you.
No one wants you.
Worthless.
Fat.
Whore.
"Hey (y/n), you okay?" Steve asked he had said hello to (y/n) three times as he walked by "Yeah, I'm just tired" tired of the voices "you should get some rest," he said and patted her on the back she nodded and waved him off going to her room. She sat on her bed she was so tired but the voices were so loud. They were to loud she couldn't sleep. Oh, she wanted to sleep she wanted to sleep so bad. "shut up" she whispered "shut up, shut up, SHUT UP" she cried they just got louder. She need did sleep. She knew how to get sleep.
Walking into her bathroom she looked directly into the mirror and the voice got louder. She knew how to silence them. She pulled the box out from under the bathroom sink and sat on the edge of the tub. Opening it inside was a collection of a dozen clean sharp razors. The voices got louder. She pulled one out. She could hear her own heartbeat and blood running in her ears. She brought it to her wrist. The room felt like it was shaking her breath came out fast and heavy she could hear it out and nothing out.
And then nothing. They were silent now. They were silent as blood dripped down on to the bathroom floor. They were silent as she sat on the edge of the tub and watched the blood run from her arms. Everything was silent but now... she couldn't sleep. She couldn't close her eyes now. She cried because she couldn't sleep. She couldn't close her eyes now. She cried because she couldn't sleep.
"(y/n) are you okay? why are you crying?" It was Tony. She didn't have enough strength to answer she didn't  have any strength. She fell back in the tub. "we're coming in" that's Natasha. (y/n) didn't move as the door she didn't look up but she knew she knew the entire team was here they all saw her. "oh my god" Steve was the first to move towards her. He pulled a towel off the rack and wrapped her around wrists.
"why?" Wanda asked still standing by the door. Everyone else moved forward into the bathroom trying to get to (y/n) trying to help.They all had questions "why?" "why'd you do this to yourself" "why are you doing this" "who made you do this" "did we make you do this" "what did we do" "can we fix it" "we're sorry". 
Yes, because when one plunges into depression someone else is at fault. She was in pain but someone else had to be blamed to be the center of her pain.
"everyone out," Bucky said as Bruce pushed his way into the bathroom " EVERYONE OUT. We got this" it was slow but everyone eventually left leaving Bruce and Bucky. Even though he was not that kind of doctor. Bruce knew what to do. And Bucky being unstable himself and having a therapist he somewhat knew how to handle this.
"what's your favorite food?" Bucky asked as Bruce wrapped her wrists. "(f/f)" 
"I like plums"
"I don't have a favorite food," Bruce said 
"what's your favorite ...song?" Bucky was trying to distract her with questions and so far it was working
"(F/s)"
"Well I haven't been listening to a lot of music lately but I do remember a song called Let's do from the 1930s I think. How about you Bruce"
"Classical music. Beethoven, Grieg, and Tchaikovsky"
(y/n) was confused, grateful but confused, they weren't asking 'why' or telling her she had to stop and get help. They were talking to her normally like what was happening wasn't happening. They were being nice not questioning or making her uncomfortable they were calm.
After bandaging her Bucky leads her to bed " I can't sleep" she said Bucky chuckled then crawled into bed with her "neither can I". Together they laid down for 2 hours until they actually fell asleep.
Bruce returns to the living room where everyone was waiting. They immediately began asking questions.
"is she okay?" " why'd she do it?" "was it one of us?" "is she going to stop?" "how long has she been doing this?" "is Bucky with her?" "is she going to stop?".
Bruce took a deep breath and stood before everyone and yelled, yes yelled, "SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN" and that's with everyone did. No one was going to mess with Bruce the faint green in his eyes and veins showed he was clearly trying to stay in control and was nearly losing. He took another deep breath "don't make a big  deal out of it" "don't make a big deal out of it, Bruce, she was hurting herself" Clint jumped up
  "why would she do this" Wanda asked quietly to herself 
"Maybe we should get her some professional help" Sam suggested 
"I believe doctor Banner already had a plan," Vision said.
And he did. "I do... just you guys try and act normal around for now. While I handle this"
And they did or tried to. Bucky and Bruce did help a lot. The next day Bucky and Bruce came to her room with Notebooks, art supplies, books, and music. They really helped.  Bucky introduced her to his therapist she now took weekly sessions. Bruce help with calming techniques. And they both did daily wrist checks.
They knew everything wouldn't be normal with the snap of their fingers but they knew how to slowly work her back to being healthy and happy.
 It had been six months since everyone found out and everything was good as it could get. It had been six months since she cut and three months since she had a mental breakdown. Bruce and Bucky were taking good care of her and keeping her health.
(y/n) and Bucky sat on the couch in Bruce’s lab her feet in Bucky’s lap as he doodled on her skin and she talked to Bruce. This was how they usually spent time off in Bruce’s lab or Bucky’s room the three had grown close since the incident.
The both of them had problems of their own but still took the time to help and take care of (y/n).
“Thank you”
“you shouldn’t thank me until I’m done doll” Bucky said as he continued to doodled on her leg 
 “no, I mean for helping me. I know you guys have your own stuff to handle. so Thank you”
“No need to thank us. Would have done it one way or another” Bruce said 
“no, no, you should defiantly thank us but more me. You should thank me with a kiss” (y/n) giggled but gave Bucky a kiss on the cheek
 “and my work here is done”
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