#BRO I CAN JUST IMAGINE HIM SNICKERING AND/OR SIGHING IN DISAPPOINTMENT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greaterawarness · 3 years

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The One Where The Clones Go Ghost Hunting

Tup finishes setting up the last camera before resting his mobile one on his shoulder.

“So, why are we doing this again?” Tup asks while focusing the camera on Echo and Fives.

“Because Echo and I saw something here that changed our lives!” Fives says.

“Same thing happened to Hardcase when we took him to that strip club.” Jesse says with a snickering Kix as they walk past Fives. Echo rolls his eyes and steps more into frame.

“Look, we saw a woman walk right through a wall the other night. We just want to see if we can prove that what we saw was real.” Echo explains.

“So, ghosts. We’re hunting for ghosts.” Tup clarifies flatly.

“Ghost hunters if you will?” Fives says making Echo give him a light shove.

“Ghosts,” Dogma starts before Tup can turn the camera on him and Hardcase while walking into the house, “Do not exists.”

“Bro I’ll punch a ghost in the face. I don’t even care,” Hardcase says before holding up a paper bag. “Also, I brought the midnight snacks boys!”

“Dogma, if you don’t believe in ghosts then why did you come?” Fives sighs. Dogma stops as if to think about it.

“I like getting out of the barracks from time to time. Plus, I like proving you wrong.” He eventually shrugs before the front doors open again. Rex and Cody step through the doors looking less then enthused about being here.

“Captain, glad you could join us!” Fives says. The Captain mumbles something under his breath before giving a forced smile.

“Commander Cody, what a surprise. I didn’t know you’d be here.” Echo says. The Commander shoves his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Yeah, well, me and Rex had this bet whether or not Gregor could eat an entire tip-yip by himself and well… yeah now I’m here.” Cody mumbles.

“Always bet on stupid, boys.” Rex adds while placing his hands on his hips. Tup turns the camera back on Echo and Fives.

“So, you two believe in ghosts?” Fives raises an eyebrow. Tup turns the camera back to Rex and Cody.

“Oh, hell no.” Cody shakes his head.

“Not a chance.” Rex nods.

“Then why are you here?” Tup chuckles from behind the camera.

“Someone has to chaperone you kids.” Rex says matter-of-factly. Tup turns the camera back on Fives and Echo.

“Fair enough,” Echo says before rubbing his hands together as everyone gathers round. “Alright, we’re going to split up into three groups. Fives, Dogma, Tup, and I will take the upstairs. Jesse, Hardcase, and Kix will take this floor. Rex and Cody will take the basement. Everyone understand?” “Wait,” Kix says after exchanging a smile with Jesse. “Why don’t you take Hardcase, and we take Dogma?” “Okay… doesn’t really matter to us who goes where.” Fives shrugs. Dogma stares at the grinning Kix and Jesse looking very concerned.

“Tup has cameras put up throughout the house to try and capture everything. Each group will also have a camera of their own.” Echo goes on.

“Do not break these cameras!” Tup warns. With everyone briefed on what to do they split up.

UPSTAIRS: Fives, Echo, Tup, Hardcase

Tup follows his brothers up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Fives sits on the bed while carrying a recording device.

“I read somewhere that you can catch disembodied voices with this thing.” He explains. Echo leans against a wall near him while Hardcase stands to the side. Tup keeps the camera focused on Fives and Echo.

“Did you die here?” Echo asks. They wait in silence for a response. Tup shifts the camera on his shoulder while waiting.

“What’s your name?” Fives asks after a time. They wait again. Fives opens his mouth to ask another question when he’s stopped by a cracking sound. Fives looks up at the camera wide eyed. “Do you hear that?”

“Yeah, its sounds like, like… like Hardcase eating a fucking taco!” Tup starts before whipping the camera over to Hardcase who is stuffing his face with a taco. He chews loudly while putting his hands up in a WHAT fashion.

“Hardcase, maybe not a good time for that bud.” Echo sighs.

“I’m hungry!” He says with his mouth full. When Tup points the camera back on Fives and Echo, he adds off camera. “I’m a growing boy.”

Fives shakes his head while staring at the camera.

“Come on, keep going.” Echo insists. When it gets quiet again, they continue.

“Are you angry?” Fives goes on.

“Can you show yourself?” Echo asks. They sit and wait again. This time a low gargling almost growl makes them freeze. Fives holds his hands out in a don’t move motion before pressing his lips together and squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

“Dammit Hardcase!” He yells. Tup turns the camera on Hardcase once again. This time he is slurping up what is left of his drink.

“Want some?” He offers after a pause. Echo rubs his face tiredly while Fives takes the bag of snacks and drink from Hardcase.

“We’re trying to do something hear, Hardcase!” Fives says while setting the goodies on a dresser.

“Well, I’m sorry! But it’s not like anything was happening anyway.” Hardcase crosses his arms.

“I mean, he does have a point.” Tup says nodding with the camera. Echo sighs while putting his hands on his hips.

“They’re right. Maybe we did imagine it.” Echo shrugs. Fives lets out a disappointing breath but nods.

“Yeah, we should get the others and…”

Fives is cut off by two shrill screams coming from downstairs. They all stare at Hardcase who holds his hands up with wide eyes.

“That wasn’t me!” He says. Echo and Fives look into the camera before all four of them run downstairs.

DOWNSTAIRS: Jesse, Kix, Dogma

When Fives leads his group upstairs and Rex and Cody disappear into the basement, Jesse, Kix, and Dogma meander around their floor.

“So,” Jesse says with the camera first pointed up at his face then nothing but blurry movement before the camera finally focuses on Kix and Dogma. “We’re just supposed to walk around videoing ourselves getting scared in the dark?”

“I think we’re supposed to ask it questions and try and catch it on this.” Kix says while holding up a small recording device Echo had given them. Dogma shakes his head.

“This is ridiculous.” Dogma sighs. Jesse zooms in ridiculously close to Dogma’s face.

“Why is that Doggy?” Jesse chuckles.

“Because they didn’t see a ghost. They spent the last few nights watching ghost movies and then were asked to house sit in an extremely old home that probably creaks and moans if you just looked at it.” Dogma says while crossing his arms. When Jesse can’t find a way to zoom out the camera, Kix steals it and fixes it. He aims the camera up at his face.

“Well boys, lets ask this ghost some questions,” Kix starts before clearing his throat, “If there are any spirits here tonight, please, answer me this one question… Who’s better looking? Me or Jesse?”

Jesse’s face appears in the corner of the camera.

“We have the same face, dumbass.” Jesse snorts.

“Yeah, but you’re uglier.” Kix says not missing a beat. Jesse gives a hurt gasp while Dogma laughs off camera. The camera blurs while Jesse steals the camera back. He points it at Dogma.

“Enough of this, lets keep moving.” Jesse insists. Dogma shrugs and walks further down the hall. They stop to stare at a painting when one the doors leading to the kitchen begin to rattle. Dogma freezes while staring at the rattling door.

“What is that?” Dogma starts to turn back to Jesse, but he pushes him forward.

“Go check it out!” He insists. Dogma slowly walks forward as the doorknob continues to rattle. He takes a deep breath before forcing the door open before Kix jumps out scaring Dogma. He doesn’t scream but he jumps and punches Kix in the arm. Kix and Jesse laugh and lean against each other.

“You’re jerks.” Dogma frowns.

“Couldn’t resist.” Jesse laughs from behind the camera.

“There are two doors to the kitchen. I snuck through the other when you weren’t looking.” Kix explains.

“Wow. This is me impressed right now.” Dogma says with a blank expression.

“Alright, I think we’re done here. Let’s…” Kix starts but stops when female screams make their blood run cold. They immediately run towards the noise meeting up with Fives, Echo, Tup, and Hardcase while they come down the stairs.

“Was that you?” Fives asks.

“No, I think it came form the basement.” Kix says. They tear open the basement door and run into the darkness.

THE BASEMENT: Cody, Rex

“This is stupid.” Cody sighs once Rex has closed the basement door behind them.

“Just keep moving.” Rex says while trying to get a good hold on the camera. He wasn’t a tech wiz and wasn’t sure if it was even on. He lifts it to his eye and chuckles at the night vision Cody. Cody reaches up and takes the camera from him.

“So, what do we do now?” Cody asks once they’re down in the dungeon of a basement. Rex walks over and sits on a crate. Cody leans against the wall, keeping the camera pointed at Rex.

“Wait until the boys say we’re good to go home?” Rex shrugs.

“I can’t believe Gregor ate that entire tip-yip.” Cody sighs. “To think I could be doing literally anything else tonight.” “What? You had something better to do?” Rex arches a brow. Cody zooms in on Rex’s face.

“Did you seriously just ask me if I had something better to do then sit in the basement of a strangers house in the dark?”

“Good point.” Rex nods. Cody zooms out. “So, you wanna go to 79’s after…” Rex and Cody get to their feet when footsteps come from the pitch-black back room. Rex grabs a crowbar while Cody sets the camera on a shelf so he can grab a large wrench. They walk slowly towards the back room. One of the paint cans next to Rex rattles suddenly making him jump.

“Okay… that was weird.” Cody says softly. Rex grips his weapon.

“You aren’t seriously considering that there is a ghost here, are you?” Rex asks him but doesn’t lower the crowbar.

“Look, maybe it’s not as crazy as it sounds,” Cody starts, “I mean I fought zombie geonosians!”

A low growl stops them in their tracks.

“Okay… so maybe it’s not as preposition as it first seemed but…” Rex trails off the closer they got to the darkness. Rex almost thinks he can see eyes staring at him before a lothcat leaps at them with a growl making both men give high shrill screams.

“Oh my fuck its just a cat!” Cody breathes relieved. Rex rubs his face trying to get his breathing under control. When the basement door bursts open both men jump close together and then quickly part when they realize its just the boys.

“We heard a woman scream!” Fives starts. Tup points his camera at them.

“Did you see it! Did you see her?” Echo asks. All seven men stare at Rex and Cody waiting for their response.

“It was…” Rex starts while turning to stare at Cody whose face is as red with embarrassment as Rex’s. He slowly turns his head back towards the boys. “… a ghost.”

“It was a ghost.” Cody nods.

“Well, did you get it on camera?” Tup asks. Cody and Rex both look at the camera sitting on the shelf pointed at the dark back room.

“Uh…” Rex says while Fives picks it up. He shakes his head and frowns.

“Rex, you never even turned it on!” Fives says making Cody and Rex sigh with relief and then quickly change it to sighs of frustration when Kix and Jesse arch a brow at them.

“We never got anything on camera but if Rex and Cody say they saw something then I feel like that’s validation enough.” Echo says. Fives nods but still looks disappointed they weren’t able to catch anything on camera. Dogma rolls his eyes before starting up the stairs with the others. Cody and Rex start to leave when Kix and Jesse step in front of them.

“So, you saw a ghost?” Jesse asks with a smug smile on his face. Rex clears his throat slightly.

“Yup, saw it right there.” Rex says pointing to the back room. Kix and Jesse exchange a look.

“It’s just odd to us that we hear two screams and… well what do ya know? Its just the two of you down here?” Kix says with a grin. Rex bites his bottom lip before reaching out and placing a hand on each of their shoulders.

“You know what I heard?” Rex asks softly. “I heard that I haven’t finished the watch bill for the next month. I would hate for the two of you to be stuck on watch for the next foreseeable future!”

Kix and Jesse stare at Rex for a moment.

“It’s crazy that you saw a ghost!” Kix says finally.

“Yeah, Captain I would be scared shitless.” Jesse adds before the two of them run up the stairs. Rex and Cody exchange a relieved look before going up the stairs themselves.

As they wrapped up the night, they gathered up all the cameras and gear and loaded it into a speeder. Tup looks through the bags making sure he grabbed everything.

“Hey, Dogma!” Tup calls out. Dogma stands halfway to the speeder and the house. “I think I forgot the battery bag by the stairs. Can you grab it real fast?” Dogma jogs back to the house and pushes open the front door. He spots the battery bag on the bottom step. When he picks it up, he starts to turn to leave when movement at the top of the stairs catches his eye. He glances up to see a woman in white staring down at him. She turns and glides across the floor before passing through a wall. His jaw drops. He turns and runs out of the house as fast as he can.

“GUYS!”

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bbangsoonie · 3 years

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falling for you

member: jacob genre: fluff word count: 1,416 synopsis: in which wingman eric encourages jacob to finally confess on valentine’s day.

a/n: this is a part of the valentine’s day collab with @lsangyeons and many other deobi writers 💞

This was not how you imagined Valentine’s day to be but you were having fun regardless. You were spending the romantic holiday with your obnoxiously loud group of friends, laughing as they screeched trying not to fall on the ice rink. You didn’t want to admit it but a teeny tiny part of you was disappointed that you weren’t spending it with a special someone.

That special someone was having the time of his life ice skating with Eric. You watched as Jacob showed off a spin, earning him some passing comments of praise from strangers. Meanwhile, you were sitting on the bench because you had absolutely no sense of balance. Sunwoo had teased you relentlessly about your instability and fear on the ice. He only left to go join Haknyeon after he had his fun with you.

While you were laughing at Changmin’s terrified shrieks and Kevin’s futile attempts to calm him down, Eric was nagging Jacob to hurry up and go talk to you.

“Dude, just go up to her,” Eric nudged, slightly pushing him towards your area.

“I can’t. I’m too nervous,” Jacob whined.

“Come on, man. I’ll go with you and help you out,” Eric grinned as he grabbed his wrist and dragged him along.

As a long time friend of yours, Jacob couldn’t bring himself to take the leap he needed to cross the line between love and friendship. His relationship with you was something less than a fling and it frustrated everyone around you.

Hence, Chanhee took the initiative by inviting everyone to hang out altogether. He knew Jacob would not be able to ask you to meet on Valentine’s day alone.

“Hey, Y/n, are you not gonna skate?” Eric asked.

“I can’t take a step on the ice by myself,” you pouted. Jacob’s heart raced at the sight and his cheeks heated up despite the cold temperature. Trying to cool himself down, he fanned his face. Eric almost laughed out loud at how obvious his crush was.

“Why don’t you let Jacob teach you? Or at least hold your hand to take you around the rink?” Eric suggested with an innocent look. “He’s a great ice skater and an amazing teacher.”

“O-Oh, but I don’t wanna keep you from having fun,” you blushed.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Jacob stammered in a rush. Satisfied with the pink atmosphere he created, Eric quietly took his leave.

It was a bit awkward between just you and Jacob. You both didn’t know what to say or do next. Jacob was a nervous wreck but he managed to muster up some confidence to offer his hand out to you.

“Do you trust me?” he asked with those for eyes that captivated you every single day. You would trust him with your life.

But of course you didn’t tell him that. Instead, you grabbed his hand tightly as he slowly pulled you into the middle of the ice rink. He began by showing you his posture and tapped on your knee to emphasize the importance of bending your knees.

It was easy when he was guiding you but the moment he let go, you couldn’t do it on your own. You fell to the ground and your butt was now cold. Jacob giggled at your displeased expression. He knew how competitive you were and not being good at ice skating had to bruise your ego.

He held out his hand to help you get back up on your feet. You huffed, embarrassed that you fell so ungracefully in front of him.

Jaehyun and Younghoon stopped in front of you two and gave you that weird teasing smile they always had whenever they saw you together. You inwardly groaned, knowing that they were about to poke fun at you again.

“Oh my, what is this pre-marital hand holding?” Jaehyun gasped.

“It’s because Y/n fell for him,” Younghoon laughed.

You reached out to slap his arm but they both escaped, snickering. It only made you lose your balance, prompting Jacob to catch you by your arm. After you thanked him, you realized how close you were to him. You took your eyes off the ground to meet his eyes. The way his brown orbs stared at you made your heart pound so hard that you could feel and hear it in your ears. Afraid that he would hear it as well, you quickly took a step forward to try skating again.

Unfortunately, your body couldn’t keep up with your abrupt action and you found yourself stumbling again. Luckily, Jacob’s reflexes were fast enough to hold onto you.

Your hand was clinging onto his for dear life. He stared at it for a few seconds before intertwining his fingers with yours, making you flustered. He didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from to say his next words.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine,” he blurted.

You blinked once. Then twice. Then again. When he finally realized what he just said, his ears reddened more than they already were from the cold.

“W-What?” you stuttered.

He wanted to kick himself so badly. How could he expose himself like that? With a sigh, he accepted that it was already said and done. Perhaps this was the push he needed to finally ask you out.

“To be honest, I’ve liked you for a long time. I’m not sure exactly when I first started having feelings for you but I know they’re real. I tried to convince myself that it was just a small crush but I get so happy and nervous when I see you. I love seeing you laugh and I want to be the lucky one to make you smile,” he confessed.

You couldn’t say you were entirely surprised. After all, your friends had been very openly shipping you two together. But his timing and choice of words definitely caught you off guard.

“Y/n, can I be your boyfriend?” he shyly asked. “Please?”

Something about him asking to be your boyfriend instead of you being his girlfriend made you melt. You felt the corners of your lips curling up as you sheepishly nodded.

His face lit up and he muttered a triumphant “yes!” under his breath. You giggled, finding him adorable.

“Aw man it’s gonna be so awkward when our friends find out,” you laughed.

“Yeah I’m kinda not looking forward to telling them either,” he chuckled.

“We could just keep it lowkey for a while,” you proposed.

“I’m a little excited at the thought of having our own little secret,” he grinned.

So you spent the rest of the day avoiding them for the most part. When you all reconvened for lunch, you snuck away with the excuse of a bathroom break to covertly meet with Jacob.

He was already waiting for you in front of the bathroom doors and beamed when he saw you approaching. Your heart skipped a beat when he excitedly waved at you and you hurried your steps to join him.

Noticing your slight shivering, he opened his jacket and gestured for you to come in. You waddled into his embrace, enjoying the warmth. Your moment of bliss was cut short when you heard an all too familiar voice.

“Dang it, now I owe Eric 10 bucks,” Juyeon complained.

Your eyes widened and Jacob’s jaw dropped when you two realized that Juyeon and Sangyeon came out of the bathroom and caught you red handed. Sangyeon did the honor of dragging you both back to the table and announcing the official news. You received cheers and overtly loud congratulations that made you want to hide.

“Yes! Pay up, suckers,” Eric laughed as Juyeon and Chanhee grudgingly forked out bills from their wallets.

“Really Jacob? You couldn’t chicken out today as well?” Chanhee whined.

“Wait a minute, did you guys bet on our relationship?” you asked.

“Yup. I bet that Jacob would finally confess today,” Eric proudly replied, making Jacob groan in embarrassment.

“Hey, but thank you for finally freeing us from the frustration of watching your skinny love,” Haknyeon laughed.

“Great idea to ask her out on Valentine’s day, bro. Now you can celebrate both your anniversary and the holiday with one present,” Kevin threw him a thumbs up.

“Kevin!” Changmin scolded.

“What? It’s a smart move,” Kevin shrugged. You playfully glared at Jacob and asked if it was intentional, making him shake his head.

“This is slander and defamation,” he declared, bringing laughter to the group.

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tuanyiems · 3 years

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First Everything

First Everything Bambam x Fem Reader Genre: fluff, a little angst Words: 9.2k [Masterlist in blog description] Plot: Sequel to Muse (Arranged Marriage AU) Part of the Marriage Life AU series. A series of dates in which Bambam tries his hardest (poor boy) to convince you that he really, really wants to be with you. a/n – lol idunno how I feel about this but here you go~

When the door of the restaurant opens, Bambam’s eyes dart over to the bodies entering for the umpteenth time. When it’s not you, he sighs, rubbing sweaty palms over the deep purple suede of his pants. The designer material darkens under his touch, but he’s too nervous to fret over his outfit at the moment.

He’s beginning to regret not picking you up at your place. He should have been more insistent. But the choice was made and now he is here, leg shaking in his chair of the Michelin star restaurant that he’s not quite sure you’re even going to meet him at.

He gulps down his second glass of water, throat parched at just the thought of getting stood up. He eats at this place at least three times a month. How embarrassing would it be for everyone to witness this rejection?

The door opens again and Bambam jerks his head up like a meerkat. An elderly woman walks in, much to his disappointment.

He sinks into the plush seat, tipping the glass to his lips again only to find it empty. A waitress promptly comes over to refill his glass, relieving him of the menacing view of the restaurant door for a fleeting moment.

What’s wrong with him? Bambam hasn’t been this nervous since…well, high school.

“Kun…pi…mook uh Bu—”

Bambam rolls his eyes at the freshmen English teacher, Mr. Kim, butchering his name. “I just go by Bambam,” comes his automatic response.

Mr. Kim breaks into a sigh of relief, taking pen to clipboard, “Great, Bambam it is.”

But Bambam has already zoned out.

Because right across from him is you—an unassuming girl in the back seat, smiling to yourself. Your lips move as you tilt your head down, but Bambam knows exactly what you’ve mouthed and his heart catches in his throat. Bambam.

His name makes your cheeks dimple.

He doesn’t know why, but this little bit of knowledge makes his chest squeeze.

The next day and every day after, Bambam makes sure to sit next to you. Thus, began the beginning of your beautiful love story…

…is what he had hoped.

But after the first day of high school, you don’t even spare him a glance. So instead, Bambam spends every hour of English period watching you from his peripheral.

You are a quiet student and most days you spend the hour doodling in the margins of your notebook. Often, your doodles are centered around cute cartoons yelling at you to pay attention in class. Every once in a while, he’ll catch a funny caricature of one of your classmates.

Maybe you’ll draw him one day, he hopes to himself.

(You don’t.)

“Bambam and Y/N, please read the next passage,” Mr. Kim interrupts his daydreams one day, about a month into the new school year.

His eyes widen, fingers flipping through the pages of Romeo and Juliet.

“Page 46,” you whisper as you get up from your seat.

Bambam lets out a breath, thumbing to the right page as he stands from his seat beside yours. He squares his shoulders, attempting to stand tall though his shoulders only manage about an inch higher than yours, but every inch counts!

“If I profane,” you whisper when he doesn’t begin reading.

Mr. Kim looks at Bambam pointedly.

“If I proFANE!” he starts loudly, cringing when his voice cracks. His classmates snicker, making his cheeks go red, but you don’t even flinch. Your eyes remain steady on the page of your own book, waiting for him to continue. He clears his throat, “If I p-profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my…lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand, to smooth that rough touch…with a tender k-kiss.”

Bambam swallows, wiping a sweaty palm on his khaki pants. He prays no one notices his stutter. If you do, you don’t let on, lowering the book as you speak.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

“Ha-”

“You guys,” Mr. Kim sighs, interrupting Bambam. He looks around the room with a scowl. “Can we not read this out like robots, please? This is young love! They’re talking about kissing! Be more excited!”

“Is that what they’re talking about?” you mutter under your breath, eyebrows arching as you scanned the page.

Bambam snorts before covering his mouth with his hand quickly. You catch the sound though, looking up at him with a smile.

His heart catches in his throat.

The playful glint in your eyes keeps him afloat for months after.

When the restaurant doors open again, Bambam chokes on his water. He coughs into the red linen napkin, his grey contact eyes watering. He can’t help chuckling despite it all though.

You’re here. And fortunately for Bambam, your gaze is focused on the hostess. You’re asking her something, probably for directions to his table. You lean towards the hostess’ podium, the heels of your blush-colored flats rising to your tiptoes out of habit even though you are at least a foot clear of the podium. You have on your signature cream oversized knit cardigan which you pull tighter to your chest, covering the simple white dress beneath.

It is so very you—even the stroke of blue paint at the bottom of your dress (which you probably aren’t aware of). On any other girl, Bambam would have scrutinized the stain, especially at a restaurant of this class. Yet, on you, the mark is somehow endearing.

He wonders if the paint stain is fresh. Were you so absorbed in a painting that you came rushing straight here with no time to change? Or was this an old stain on a dress you loved so much you couldn’t bear to part ways with it?

“Hey,” your hesitant voice breaks him out of his thoughts as you take a seat across from him.

“Hi,” he breathes. Underneath the table, he pinches his thigh. Nope, not a dream.

“Sorry I kept you waiting, I had a hard time finding the entrance,” you chuckle to yourself. There’s a story behind that smile, there always seems to be a story behind every expression and gesture you make. He wonders if he’ll ever be part of that story. When he doesn’t respond, you tilt your head nervously. “Were…you waiting long?”

“Oh! Ha, no, not at all!” Bambam straightens in his seat.

You smile politely before turning away to admire the place. It’s a beautiful French restaurant that sits at the top of one of Seoul’s tallest hotels. The entire restaurant is surrounded by floor to ceiling windows, offering a spectacular view of the city. Your eyes linger on the glittering lights of Seoul’s Friday night skyline.

Bambam doesn’t bother to glance out the window. His eyes remain on you, the glow of the candle at the center of the table flickers like stardust on your skin.

When you finally look back, Bambam leans on the table, lifting a proud brow. “Like the view?”

“This place is breathtaking,” you admit, fingers rubbing absentmindedly at the ends of your sleeves.

“Right? It’s one of my favorite places in the city,” he smiles triumphantly. “Wait ‘til you try the food.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Yeah, Lisa introduced me to this place a year ago and I’ve been coming ever since.”

“L-Lisa? Like…from Blackpink?” you look at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that Lisa, she’s a homie.”

You blink at him. “Wow, okay…cool.”

He pauses, not quite sure how to read your tone. Before he can ask though, the waitress interrupts with the usual spiel on menus and dishes of the night. When you read through the menu, your eyes grow big.

“My card is still on file, right?” Bambam asks, quick to assuage your worries. His card has been on file for months now.

“Yes, it should be, but I can check again for you,” the waitress smiles at him politely, knowing just as well that Bambam already knows this. He winks at her as she leaves before turning back to you.

Unlike his expectations though, the crease between your brow only deepens. He clears his throat, rubbing his palms against his thighs again.

“Anything catch your eye?”

You force out a smile, putting down your menu. “I can eat anything. Why don’t you decide?”

Bambam lifts a brow but nods in agreement. He wonders if French cuisine just isn’t your thing. He should have listened to Yugyeom and gone Japanese, huh? You can’t go wrong with omakase!

“Do you like wine?” he blurts, trying to get his best friend’s voice out of his head.

“Oh,” your eyes dart to the clear glass cases at the center of the restaurant showcasing their selection. You sink into your seat a little. “Well, I’m not really an expert, but I can drink it. Do you like wine?”

“I’ll let you try my favorite bottle! It’ll go great with the usual course I order,” he smiles, quite pleased with his decision.

“Sounds good,” you nod curtly.

After Bambam puts in the order, an uncomfortable silence follows. Your eyes keep traveling around the room like you don’t want to look at him. And Bambam, who could easily entertain an entire party of people at any given moment, finds himself at a loss for words. There’s probably a stain on his thighs now from how often he keeps wiping his palms. He’s too afraid to check.

“So,” he starts, extending the single word uneasily. He doesn’t manage to figure out the rest of his sentence though.

But it’s then that you finally break into a smile. A real one.

“Bambam,” you let out, and his eyes dart to your cheek where the ghost of a familiar dimple lays. “Are you feeling as awkward as I am?”

“More like nervous,” he confesses, leaning back into his seat.

Your brows raise, “You? Nervous?”

“It happens when I’m with beautiful people.”

You roll your eyes, “Says the same guy who’s ‘homies’ with Blackpink’s Lisa.”

Bambam grins, “When you meet her, you’ll see, she’s a bro.”

You arch your brows, clearly not believing him. “If she’s a bro, I can’t imagine what I am.”

You’re frowning and his heart sinks. He hates that you actually mean it. He hates that he can’t even tell you honestly what you mean to him. It’s way too soon for that kind of confession. He’s sure you wouldn’t take him seriously anyways. After all, he barely managed to even get this date.

Yn_ig: The animes lied to me. High school sucks.

Bambam snorts loudly, muffling himself beneath his blue checkered duvet before his mom can hear and yell at him to go to sleep.

It’s midnight and tomorrow will be the first day of sophomore year. He really should be sleeping, but instead he’s smiling stupidly at his phone. Your scowling face lights up his screen. Your best friend smiles brightly beside you, poking your cheek with the end of a paintbrush. You had spent your break taking an art class.

Bambam knows this because he’s been stalking your Instagram, although he’s been too afraid to like any of your posts.

You’ve gotten a lot better in the span of a few weeks though. Or at least, that’s what it seems like from having spent all of freshmen year watching you doodle in the margins. He wonders if he’ll get to sit beside you this year too. His stomach flips at the thought.

When morning comes, Bambam yawns loudly, his eyes barely open as he rushes to the bus stop. He hadn’t meant to stay up so late, but one thing led to another and suddenly he was on Soundcloud, listening to an indie artist by the name of Defsoul, who you had commented about on your friend’s Instagram post fifteen weeks ago.

He pulls out his phone, plugging in his earphones to continue listening. He steps into the bus, in the middle of bopping his head to a song when the sound escapes him and all he can hear is the thumping of his heart.

You’re sitting near the back, looking out the window. You have on headphones and a scowl that looks just like the picture you posted last night.

Steadying his breath, he walks past you and slides into the row of seats right behind yours. He wonders if you’re listening to the same song.

Maybe you’ll share the same homeroom this year. The entire bus ride to school, Bambam daydreams about all the conversations you’d share every morning if that were the case. He’d talk to you about Defsoul and then you’d share your stories about break. He’d tell you his was alright, but it would’ve been better if you two hung out. You’d give him that look, the same one you gave when you read out loud together, and then he’d poke your cheek like he’s always wanted to, right where your cheeks dimpled.

His bubble bursts as soon as a guy takes a seat beside you. Bambam can’t remember his name, but his face is familiar. He’s a senior, and by the way you move your headphones to the nape of your neck and smile, it seems like you know him. Holding his breath, Bambam pauses his song.

“2A? That used to be my homeroom!”

Bambam clenches his fist. His homeroom is at the other end of the hall from yours. Frowning, he eyes the back of the guy’s head as he leans into you.

“So, have you thought about what I asked over break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and Bambam can’t help but wonder what he’s asked of you. Is it a date? The way he whispers seems like it would be that kind of thing, and Bambam doesn’t doubt a girl like you must have a lot of admirers. Is it making you uncomfortable? Should he interrupt you two? But then, you’d clearly know he had been eavesdropping. But if this guy was making you uncomfortable, that shouldn’t matter, right?

Thighs straining, Bambam almost stands from his seat when you laugh. It’s the loudest he’s ever heard you, at least in person anyways.

“I thought you’d forget by now,” you chuckle.

The guy feigns offense, holding a hand to his chest. “Me? Forget about you? I see you think very highly of me, Y/N.”

Bambam rolls his eyes.

“Sure you aren’t just trying to dump all your responsibilities on me?” you pout. Bambam melts inside.

“Ha, you caught me!” the senior laughs, making you laugh too. It’s such a pretty ring to his ears, Bambam already knows he’ll be thinking about it for the next couple of weeks. “But you know I wouldn’t give it up to just anyone. It’s practically my baby.”

“That’s true,” you admit, chuckling, and then quieter, “You think I can do it?”

He put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. Bambam squeezes his fist.

“Not just doing it. I know you’ll be a great president,” he tells you confidently. Your ears go red, and if Bambam weren’t so focused on the hand on your shoulder, he would’ve found it very endearing.

“I don’t know, I just…” you pause nervously.

“Yo,” Mingyu breaks Bambam’s concentration. “2D?”

Bambam breaks into a smile, highfiving his friend as he takes the seat next to him. “2D!”

“Sweet!” Mingyu cheers, shoulders bumping against his playfully. “Kook’s with us too. It’s gonna be a wild year!”

Bambam laughs, shaking his head. “You guys are gonna get us kicked back a year.”

His friend whistles. “Girls are into older guys, Bam, it’ll be like one of those harem animes Kook loves so much!”

Bambam laughs, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he glances back at the hand still on your shoulder. He hopes that’s not the case for you.

“It got cold,” Bambam musters as the two of you leave the restaurant.

You nod, looking up at the night sky. “Seems like winter doesn’t want to leave us yet.”

The two of you pause by the curb, in front of the valet.

“Are you sure you had a good time, Y/N? You barely touched your food.”

You look up in surprise. “Oh, I really did have a nice time, Bambam.”

He looks at you skeptically.

“The uh, the…gourdine?”

“Bouchée à la périgourdine?”

“Yeah, that!” you chuckle awkwardly. “That was delicious.”

Bambam still doesn’t believe you but you look uncomfortable, so he lets it go. Actually, you’ve been looking uncomfortable ever since you laid eyes on the menu. Most of his dates took advantage of his generosity, especially at a place like this—ordering the most expensive dishes and trying out all the wine. You though? You insisted on being full after the first course. When he asked you what your thoughts were on his favorite bottle of wine, you mumbled something incoherent as you tipped the entire glass down your throat. You only had water after that.

It was like you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

Maybe he had read things wrong. He thought you were at least interested in him too. The night of Mark’s fashion launch, the two of you had shared so many things—secrets, confessions, old memories and what he thought had been chemistry.

He glances over your way. You’re turned away from him, eyes watching the valet workers instead. You had admitted to hating him in the past. His stomach sinks at the thought that maybe you still do.

You shiver, pulling your cardigan closer to your chest. Bambam unwraps his scarf, holding out his hand for you to take it.

“Oh, I’m alright,”

He lets out a soft sigh before stepping in front of you.

“Do you maybe,” Bambam asks softly, placing his scarf gently around the nape of your neck. “I don’t know, it’s Friday, we could walk around or something or…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead biting on the tip of his tongue as he wraps the cashmere cloth securely around you.

Your fingers brush against his, just barely, but he feels it tenfold. “It’s getting late…”

Bambam tries not to look too hurt when he smiles back at you. “I’ll drive you home then.”

A week later, Bambam finds himself outside of your studio apartment. When you open the door, you’re wide-eyed and frozen like you’ve seen a ghost. In your defense though, Bambam doesn’t look like himself. He hasn’t ever since the night you left him at this exact spot last week.

Dark circles line his eyes and his newly dyed black hair only makes his complexion paler.

“Is everything okay, Bambam?” you ask finally.

He sighs, squeezing at the bridge of his nose. His gold frames lift at the gesture.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, “I probably should have called first.”

“Hey,” you place your palm gently on his arm. “Why don’t you come in first.”

Bambam lets you tug him inside like a lost puppy. His eyes travel around the room. Of course, he’s seen your place before in videos, but it’s different being here now. He doesn’t expect the smell of ginger and lemongrass to greet him. The longer he lingers, the more aware he becomes of the subtle scent of jasmine rice wafting in from the open kitchen. It’s comforting.

Your bedroom door is open, and he can see you’re working on a series of paintings. The canvases line your wooden floors in a haphazard row across the room.

You sit him down on your couch, a worn out burgundy but the geometric pattern is intricate despite its faded color. He lets his finger trail over a line while you poor him a cup of water.

“Your hair is black,” you break the silence.

“Oh,” he runs a hand through his hair like he is discovering this for the first time too. A faint pink colors his cheeks.

“I like it,” you smile softly. “It suits you.”

“Thanks,” he utters. His eyes trail down your hands. Your thumb smooths down your own cup of water repeatedly. Your fingers are speckled with green paint.

When he doesn’t say anything more, you chuckle softly to yourself. He looks at you in surprise.

“I like this new look,” you explain, eyes gesturing to his outfit. Today, Bambam is in a simple white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. Granted, the t-shirt is still Tom Ford, but you don’t know that. More noticeably though, is what he is not wearing, no sparkling diamonds around his neck, no Rolex on his wrist. Only a plain, silver ring adorns his right pinky. “So, why are you here, Bambam?”

He winces inwardly, reality setting in on him. Why is he here? Because the hair dye didn’t work? Because he agreed to too many projects in an attempt to keep busy but now he’s just tired and confused? Because Yugyeom pushed him out of the office and told him to figure things out?

Because no matter what he does, he keeps thinking about last week’s date and how you looked at him right before going inside—the mixture of disappointment and sadness in your eyes that felt like he had lost it all.

“Bambam?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

His question catches you off guard. “What? No, of course not.”

“You didn’t like the food,”

“The food was delicious.”

“Then it was me. I was boring.”

“Are you really Bambam? Where did all your confidence go?” you joke, lifting a brow.

His shoulders slouch. You make his confidence deplete like he is fourteen again. When he doesn’t say anything, you put your cup down onto the coffee table and look him in the eye.

“Hey, really, it had nothing to do with you Bambam, and everything to do with me.”

He chuckles dryly. “I don’t need a ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ to soften the blow. You can give it to me straight.”

You look at him with a frown, lips threatening to jut into a pout and if Bambam weren’t about to get his heart crushed, he would’ve found your expression to be very adorable. Well, okay, that’s a lie, he still finds you very adorable right now.

“It’s really not you,” you purse your lips together, looking away. “I just…I was very out of place there, Bambam.”

“Wha-”

“I couldn’t pronounce half the menu,” you continue, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Or the wine.”

“But it tasted good?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, looking at him. “It was amazing, Bambam. But that one meal cost about half the month’s rent of this place!”

Bambam doesn’t mean to, but he laughs at your outburst. He is reminded of himself a few years ago when he first became friends with Jackson Wang, who gifted him a set of Cartier jewelry on his birthday.

When he sees your face, he immediately stops laughing. “Wait, I’m not laughing at you!”

“Yeah, sure,” you roll your eyes, but it’s a harmless gesture. Rising from your seat, you look at him, “Is that all you came here for?”

“Well, no.”

Your brows lift.

“There’s this event,” Bambam rushes, digging into the pocket of his jeans. “Actually, I was working on this mini documentary with this artist and he’s opening up a new exhibit this weekend.”

He raises the tickets tentatively towards you but freezes when your eyes bug out.

“Yoshitomo Nara?” You practically scream, falling back onto the couch right beside Bambam. You smell warm and sweet and the memory of the night you shared a few weeks ago flickers in the back of his mind.

“Yoshitomo Nara,” he confirms softly.

You frown his way, though it quickly turns into a smile, “Well, that’s just not fair. You know how much he means to me.”

“I do,” he smiles quietly.

“So you came here to bribe me?”

He laughs, “More or less. Is that a yes?”

You smile, thumbs smoothing over the tickets repeatedly.

“Jokes on you, Bambam. I would’ve said yes even without these tickets.”

Somehow, he doesn’t quite believe you, but you are giggling, and he has a date.

And that is all that matters.

Bambam sits nervously on a stool of the art studio, his fingers twisting the lens of an old DSLR he’s still not confident about using. From the elevated windows above, the pink evening sky illuminates. Everything about this moment seems picturesque. If Bambam could use his camera properly, he would’ve known.

But instead, the camera remains abandoned in his grasp as he stares in front of him where you stand in front of your easel mere meters away. It’s just the two of you. Everyone from both the photography and the painting club had gone home already. After seeing you continue to paint, Bambam had insisted on staying behind to practice with his camera more.

To be honest, he is hungry and could care less about photography, but he can’t find himself to go home.

“Hey,” you twist around and Bambam’s mind spins.

“H-hey,” he musters up, still unconvinced you’re talking to him.

He blinks owlishly at you, and then, his stomach growls. Loudly. His ears turn so red and he feels like he’s been set on fire, but you don’t even react.

“Mind if I play music?”

“Uh, yeah…that’s fine,” he answers you meekly, eyes diverting in embarrassment.

“Cool,” you reply nonchalantly, walking up to his side of the room where the speakers are. Plugging in your phone, the familiar tune of Defsoul’s music fills the studio. It takes Bambam a minute to get over his own mortification before the music reaches his ears and he perks up. But when he looks around the room, you are gone.

Alone now, Bambam finds the courage to get up from his seat and approaches your easel. The chair beside your easel is stacked with art books of Yoshitomo Nara. It seems you are doing a study. Just like the angry little girls on the cover of the art books, your easel holds a portrait of a little girl too. It is different though.

When he looks at the girl in your painting, he sees you. The little girl holds the ghost of a smirk beneath her scowl and her eyes glint with secrets of mischief, just like you. Without thinking, Bambam takes a step back and raises his camera.

“Like it?”

Bambam jumps in surprise, the flash of the camera going off before it slips from his hands entirely. Flustered, he rushes to bring the camera back into his grasp, thanking god he had kept the old leather strap around his neck.

You giggle softly, standing beside him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“It’s alright, I was just spacing out,” he mumbles sheepishly, eyes averting to the screen of his camera. You lean in, filling his senses with faint notes of your strawberry vanilla shampoo. “I’m still learning how to use the camera.”

“I like it,” you smile, looking up at him. “Can you send it to me?”

“I-really?” he looks at you surprised. Your painting isn’t in focus and off centered. The photo is not good, even Bambam knows it.

“Yeah, gives me album cover vibes,” you chuckle.

He snorts. “When is your mixtape dropping?”

You grin, raising a brow. “You never know what could happen in the future, Bambam.”

He shrugs, pretending not to melt at the sound of his name on your tongue. He didn’t think you’d remember him.

“Here,” you hand him a bag of cheese puffs before opening your own bag. “The vending machine popped out two.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Bambam walks back to his seat, gaze on your back again as you return to painting. He glances at the blurry photo on the screen of his camera and then slowly, he raises his camera once more, one eye squinting into the viewfinder.

Maybe photography isn’t so bad after all.

He snaps another photo. Click!

“Wait, this is a formal thing? Should I change?”

Bambam watches with amusement as you bounce nervously in front of his car. You are dressed in a plain pink tank top and matching satin wrap skirt. Of course, your classic cream cardigan drapes over you, and to his pleasure, so does his scarf from your last date.

“You look beautiful,” he reassures you.

You bite at your lip, unconvinced. “But you’re in a suit.”

“Okay, but when am I not?”

Your pout reluctantly turns into a smile and you huff, walking through the door he’s holding open for you, into the passenger’s seat. When he gets into the driver’s seat, you turn to him.

“When you’re wearing your designer gym clothes,” you smirk.

“Stop, you aren’t allowed to make jokes while I’m driving,” he laughs, pulling the car out of the driveway. “Also, tracksuits are still suits.”

Your giggles ring throughout the car.

When the two of you get to the venue, the place is already busy. The exhibition is part of the new contemporary art wing in the museum, which has been closed for the night for an intimate opening with select guests. Many of these guests are artist friends of Yoshitomo Nara, but even more are the wealthy collectors who are more than eager to call first dibs on the latest works. The only reason Bambam has been invited is because his mini documentary of the artist is playing on loop in one of the screening rooms.

While he loves art, these type of art scenes are not his thing. They’re a bit too stuffy for his taste and exactly why he dropped out of art school in the first place. But when he sees the way you seem to shrink into your cardigan as soon as you step into the gallery, he squares his shoulders and grabs hold of your hand.

You look surprised by his touch, but thankfully, you don’t pull away.

“You have to get used to these kinds of events, Y/N. You’ll be hosting them soon.”

You chuckle, glancing away. “Well, if I’m lucky, you’ll be hosting them.”

It’s his turn to blush now, but he pretends to be cool, pointing to the first painting to the right. “Shall we start here?”

You only grin, gripping his hand tighter. You seemed to get a little too much joy out of making him feel shy. Bambam can only sigh, quietly relishing in the warmth of your palm against his.

When you finally turn your attention to the paintings, the two of you look on in silence. Naturally, Bambam’s gaze falls onto you. There is a glimmer in your eyes, emotions passing through your features like its own movie. There is a lift of revelation in your brow, a scrunch of displeasure in your nose, the twitch of amusement on your lips.

Bambam fights the urge to take out his phone and record you. Instead, he follows after you, committing your profile to memory.

“Why do you like this guy so much?” he blurts out after passing a few paintings. You peel your eyes away to look at him in surprise, cheeks rosy.

“I-I don’t know, I’ve just loved his works since high school.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for the question to come out harsh. I was just curious, I mean, his art is really nice.”

You squeeze his hand, calming him. “I know. I guess I was just drawn to his characters. They’re cute, but rebellious and real. It’s charming.”

Bambam smiles. That’s how he feels about you.

“And it blurs the lines of what is fine art,” you go on, turning back to the painting in front of you. “Like right now, it is hanging in this museum, so it’s considered high end art, right? But this girl can easily be inside a children’s book, and his previous works have.”

You glance back at him, looking embarrassed after your spiel. “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t let you skirt over the topic though as he follows you to the next painting. “Is that why you dropped out of school?”

You sigh. “There were a lot of reasons. Maybe my skin wasn’t thick enough.”

“No, I get it,” he rubs his thumb across your skin. “I don’t like museums much, to be honest. I like the idea of them, but in reality, places like these only cater to the gatekeepers and the gatekeepers are just boring ass, tax-evading millionaires.”

You laugh, leaning into his chest as if that’ll rid you of the attention you’ve already gained around your corner of the room. Bambam ignores their stares, laughing along with you.

“Your art shouldn’t be jailed up in this stale room,” he adds, after your giggling subsides.

“But yours is,” you chuckle, making your way into the dark screening room.

Projected onto the wall is Yoshitomo Nara talking midsentence about his latest artworks. You take a seat on the bench before gesturing for Bambam to take a seat next to you.

“This is filmed beautifully,” you lean into him to whisper. The action makes him smile since you are the only two in this room, but if it’ll bring you closer, he doesn’t mind. “You’re really talented, Bambam.”

“I have a good team with me.”

“I always knew you’d make it big.”

He smiles quietly, watching as the glow of the video illuminated your face. You really did.

Yn_ig: This is amazing!

Bambam1a: Thx!

Bambam chucks his phone between his thighs before shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth to hide the smile spreading across his face. He pretends to laugh at something his brother said, though really, he’s twisting with glee because you just liked his latest post on Instagram. And you commented!

“Remember Bammie, this weekend you’re coming with me to…”

His phone dings and his mom’s voice fades into the background. Grabbing his phone, his stomach flips when he sees your handle name sending you a direct message. Ever since the beginning of junior year, he’s been talking to you over Instagram under the alias Muse_ig. It hadn’t been his intentions to deceive you. He was just nervous about talking to you online, but still wanted a way to support you. One comment on your art led to another and suddenly you were messaging him a thank you. Very quickly, that thank you turned into memes and inside jokes. Now, the two of you were talking to each other almost every night.

He clicks on the notification, nodding blankly to whatever his mom is saying.

Yn_ig: Hey! You said you liked photography, right? You should check him out. He’s my classmate. Really talented guy.

Bambam clutches his phone, trying to keep from jumping out of his seat when he sees you’ve sent his Instagram profile.

“Bammie, are you listening to me?” his mom looks at him pointedly.

He tries to school his expression, but joy floods his face anyways. And despite her tone, his mom smiles too.

“Whoever it is, she can wait. Put your phone away,” she teases, inciting laughter from all his siblings.

Bambam laughs it off goodheartedly, tucking his phone away. You think he’s really talented and nothing can diminish the high that this newfound knowledge brings him.

Well, nothing except, of course, you.

You see, when Bambam agreed to tagging along with his mom to her new friend’s house so she could introduce their daughter to him, he was expecting to spend a few awkward hours with some strangers. Maybe bond with said daughter over the awkwardness, but then he would go home and play video games and that would be that.

What he doesn’t expect is to greet you first thing at your doorway. He doesn’t expect to sit across from you during dinner. And he definitely doesn’t expect the glare you send him between each bite.

“You really are the prettiest thing!” His mother coos from across the table. “She definitely takes after you.”

“Oh, stop it,” your mom blushes, waving her spoon. “To think our kids already knew each other. This must be fate!”

“Hardly,” you mumble under your breath, but Bambam hears it. His heart breaks.

He can’t even blame you for it though. This dinner hasn’t exactly been easy for you. He remembers your late-night texts a few months ago and now all those self-deprecating comments make sense. Those words you were repeating? The I’m not good enough and I should just give up—They were never yours. It was your parents’.

“Bambam told me she’s one of the smartest in her grade!” his mom continues to compliment. He nods eagerly. Your frown only deepens as you poke at the asparagus on your plate.

“What good are all those As when all she does is doodle?” her mom laments, chuckling weakly. “We put all this money into her education but all she wants to do is draw.”

“Paintings,” Bambam musters. Both his and your mom look at him, surprised. He wipes his palms against his pants. In his peripheral, he knows you’re looking at him too, but he’s too afraid to look at you. “She paints, and she’s really good.”

There’s a pause and Bambam’s entire face heats up.

And then your mom breaks into a laugh. “And I heard you’re doing photography!”

His chest deflates and he nods meekly.

His mom laughs, hitting him on the back. “Unlike Y/N, Bammie here is terrible at studying. I really hope this hobby takes off.”

“Your mom showed me some of your photos, boy,” your father speaks up gruffly, pointing the steak knife his way. “Keep it up and you’ll earn yourself a free ticket to college.”

Bambam rubs at the nape of his neck, “I don’t know about that.”

“No really, there’s a scholarship, isn’t there, Y/N?” your father insists, looking at you.

You nod, putting down your fork. You look at your dad but it’s clear in your tone that you’re talking to him.

“It’s called the Artisan Award—a full scholarship to your art school of choice. It’s given to one graduating senior for their excellence in art across multiple disciplines—including photography. I’ll be applying to it next year.” You don’t even offer him a glance, focusing instead, on your glass of water.

“Well, you’ll be applying to a lot of scholarships,” your mom chuckles uneasily. “There’s still a year to think things through.”

“You should apply too,” your father adds, looking at him.

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d be any good. Sounds competitive,” Bambam mumbles, glancing at you. You’re scowling down at your plate.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try though,” his mom cuts in, smiling at him. “What are the kids saying nowadays? Have to shoot your shot into the hoop?”

He smiles, pretending to grimace at his mom, making her laugh.

“While we’re at it, let’s apply to the athletic scholarships too,” she jokes.

He laughs, rolling his eyes. “First I have to make a shot into an actual hoop.”

His mom snorts, “It’s okay, if anything you can dropout and become a comedian! We’ve got options.”

The table breaks into laughter but when he glances your way, you are glaring at him.

“I still can’t believe you were Muse_ig this whole time. I dropped out because of you,” you giggle, a crumpled brown napkin in one hand while the other cradles a half-eaten slice of pizza. The two of you had stopped for a bite to eat next door to the museum.

“Hey, don’t blame me, I was just sending you encouraging messages. You made the decision,” Bambam whines, one cheek still stuffed full of pizza.

“Only because I had you feeding into my delusions!”

“You mean showing you your true worth?” he corrects.

You smile, leaning onto the table towards him. “Which ultimately pushed me to drop out.”

He sighs, “Okay, fine, you win. Please don’t tell your mom, though. She’ll hate me.”

“Impossible, she loves you.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.”

You roll your eyes as Bambam finishes his last bite. Sitting in the pizzeria on a Saturday night amongst a crowd of college students from the local university, the two of you stand out like a sore thumb—Bambam, because of his tailored suit that’s probably the same price as some of these students’ tuition, and you, because, well, you’re you.

In his eyes at least, you always stand out. However, tonight, this is especially so. Unlike your first date, you are laughing and joking together. Maybe he should get pizza with you more often.

“This was nice,” you breathe out as you both step out of the pizzeria. When the restaurant doors close, the loud chatter muffles and is replaced by the quiet night breeze.

“So,” Bambam lets the word drawl sluggishly, not wanting the night to end, but he is reminded of the last date when you turned him down and hesitates to extend another offer.

“So,” you copy, voice soft as you start walking back towards the museum parking garage. “You never explained why you dropped out. Such a waste of a scholarship,” you tease.

“Ah, that…” Bambam stuffs his hands into the pockets of his pants.

You place a hesitant hand around the crook of his arm and his shoulders relax.

“If it’s a touchy subject, you don’t have to answer.”

He shakes his head, looking down at you. “No, it’s not.”

He opens the passenger door for you, helping you in before heading to his side.

“I guess I didn’t have tough skin either,” he chuckles softly, starting the car. “Some days it really did feel like being jailed inside an art museum. Photography didn’t feel the same without…”

His voice trails and his cheeks heat up. You look at him curiously but he’s too embarrassed to continue. Again, he is reminded by the fact that while you grew up together, the memories you share are quite different.

He glances at you and the way you smile at him is sweet. As if to say, it’s okay to not say anything more. But instead of being comforted, Bambam remembers the way you glared at him from across the dinner table as if it happened yesterday.

“I liked taking photos of the people I care about. I liked capturing moments that mattered…Feelings that…Art school just made me feel empty. I didn’t know why I was doing it anymore,” he finishes off quickly, looking away from you.

“I get that,” you smile weakly.

“But look at us now,” Bambam chuckles, lightening the mood. “We’re doing just fine on our own, aren’t we?”

You smile, glancing out the window. “Well, you are.”

“So are you! Aren’t you publishing a children’s book soon?” Bambam keeps his eyes on the road but her can see in his peripheral that you are looking at him in surprise.

“Did Mark…”

At the red light, he glances at you gently. “Your mom told mines. She brags about you when you aren’t around, you know.”

You frown, playing with the strap of the seatbelt.

“I know that’s her way of caring for me.” You finally say. “Sometimes, though, I wish she was more like your mom.”

“Well,” Bambam sends you a quick grin before turning back to the road. “If you marry me, my mom comes with the package too.”

You laugh. It rings throughout the car and sets his own heart at ease.

“You don’t have to bribe me with your mother, Bambam! If anything, I should be bribing you.”

“I’ll take it!”

“What?”

He chuckles. “Whatever the bribe is, I’ll take it. Think City Hall is still open?”

You shake your head, giggling softly. “I still don’t get you.”

“What’s there to get?”

You hum thoughtfully. “A young bachelor like you so eager to marry and me of all people? Who’s holding you against your will?”

At the next red light, Bambam steels himself and turns to you, eyes steady on yours.

“I like you. A lot. For a while now.”

Despite the dimly lit night, he can see you flush. Your fingers clutch the ends of your cardigan sleeves, a nervous habit.

When you don’t say anything, he continues. “I know your parents kind of forced you into this, but that’s not the case for me. Maybe I’m coming on too strong, This marriage arrangement thing…I get that it’s unnatural. I wish I could’ve gone about this differently, but we’re here now and I’m ready. I know you’re probably not and that’s okay, I get it. But I’m interested, I want to date, I want to go through the whole process with you. Slowly, at our own pace, and if I’m not a good fit…then that’s okay too. But I want to at least try.”

The light turns green and reluctantly, he looks away. The rest of the drive to your place is quiet. When he parks outside your apartment, he smiles as if your silence isn’t eating him alive.

“I had a really nice time, Y/N. I’m glad you came with me tonight.”

“Me too,” you reply, almost a whisper.

When you don’t say anything more, he gets out of the car and walks to your side, helping you with the door. But you don’t get up from your seat.

Instead, you turn to him, eyes staring up at him nervously.

“I like you too.”

It is soft, but his whole chest shakes. Bambam breaks into a smile of joy and relief.

He takes hold of your hand, helping you out of the car. His fingers linger, brushing softly against the tips of yours, and you smile.

“Then, I’ll see you next week at your family dinner?” he asks quietly.

You nod tentatively. You purse your lips, cheeks dimpling shyly. His heart skips as you linger, eyes shimmering under the streetlamp.

And then you lean into him, fingers clutching his and you tiptoe.

It is a fleeting touch—light and feathery on his lips—and then he blinks and you’re stepping away again.

“Night, Bambam.”

“N-night!”

He stays for ten minutes longer, waiting for the light of your apartment to flicker on, his lips still buzzing from your kiss.

Bambam’s lips sting from how much he’s been nervously biting them, the high from last week’s date now a fleeting memory. He sits at your parents’ dinner table across from you and it feels like déjà vu.

His mom laughs loudly next to him. Someone made a joke or something.

He doesn’t hear it. All he can see is the growing scowl on your face. Whatever feelings you had for him last week seem to be long gone if your expression is anything to go by.

Your mom swirls her glass of wine, leaning into his mom warmly. “When you told me you wanted my daughter to be your daughter-in-law—my daughter, for your Bambam!—I almost fainted!”

“What are you talking about? The minute I saw Y/N, I fell in love at first sight! I’m pretty sure it was the same for Bammie too.”

Bambam flushes, stuffing his cheeks with salad.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” his mom nudges him teasingly and he almost chokes but he nods adamantly towards you.

“You two are so humble,” your dad chuckles.

Your mom seems to nod in agreement. “I’m sure Bambam can find better options out there.”

“Y/N has one good trait though,” your dad adds, laughing. “She won’t cause any trouble as far as the love department goes.”

“Oh, don’t get me started, this girl is so stubborn!” your mom starts up again, waving her spoon accusingly at you. “Always work, work, work with my daughter. It’s all she cares about.”

“Oh, Bammie’s the same,” his mom cuts in, smiling amiably at you. “It’s the younger generation these days. Married to their work so to speak.”

“Bambam’s got a good head on him,” you father nods to him gruffly. “There’s a difference between working hard and working smart.”

“Unfortunately, she’s only good at working hard,” your mother sighs.

Bambam swallows thickly, gaze fixed on your expression. You’ve been chewing on the inside of your cheek since dinner started. He can see the tick in your jaw every time your parents say something mean your way.

At first, you managed to fake a few polite smiles, but now your head was fully down as you played with the rice on your plate.

“I like Y/N’s work ethic,” he finally speaks up. You finally look at him, eyes unreadable. “It’s hard work that brings talent to fruition and Y/N has both.”

Your gaze lingers on him.

“If we’re talking about talent though, we have to talk about your business!” Your mom breaks the air and the ghost of your smile completely vanishes from your face. You don’t look at him for the rest of dinner.

“Ready for dessert?” your mom asks after everyone was done eating.

You scoot your chair, rising from your seat. “Actually, I’m not feeling so well.”

“Oh, are you okay sweetheart?” his mother asks.

You smile apologetically, “So sorry to have to leave first.”

“Of course, honey! Bammie, why don’t you bring her home?”

“Oh no, that’s alright.”

“No, no, let me.” Bambam rises from his seat and takes hold of your hand. He gives you an encouraging squeeze. “Thank you for the meal! I’ll get her home safely.”

When you exit the house, you slip your hand from his. He pretends not to notice, leading you to his car quietly.

“Congratulations to our one and only Bambam for winning the Artisan Award, one of the most prestigious art scholarships in the nation.”

The morning announcement rings in his ears and his homeroom bursts in a parade of cheers and congratulations, but his heart lurches and he thinks of you.

He is reminded of the hours you spent afterschool every day in the art studio, working on pieces for your portfolio. He thinks of all the different art programs you attended during school holidays. He remembers your mother’s voice and the way you’d repeat those words during your late-night Instagram messages.

When he sees you at the bus stop immediately after school instead of in the studio, he almost turns the other way, but your eyes meet his and goes to stand next to you instead. You only give him a slight nod before returning to your phone.

It feels like a long time before the bus arrives.

You sit where you always do, near the back, beside the window. He takes the row of seats across from you.

His stomach twists with guilt when he watches your profile. You can probably feel his stare, but you continue to look straight ahead anyways. You’re probably trying hard to look unbothered, but he can see your disappointment clearly. There’s a slouch in your shoulders, a faint frown tilting the edges of your lips.

You are disappointed and probably dislike him right now.

He wonders if you’ll tell him about this over Instagram. He doesn’t know if Muse_ig will be able to console you this time around. He wishes he had the right words to say, but his throat constricts instead.

When your stop arrives, his eyes follow your back as you stand at the door and he beats himself up for having stayed quiet. And when the bus creeps to stop, you hesitate, before turning back to him.

“Congrats, by the way,” you offer him a small smile. “You deserved it.”

You step off the bus before he can say anything back.

You take a different route home for the rest of the school year.

At the red light, Bambam looks over at you. You continue looking straight ahead. There’s a sadness beneath your schooled expression, he can feel this in his gut, but he doesn’t know what to say.

“Y/N,” he starts hesitantly.

“The light’s green,” you interrupt.

He turns his attention back to the room. His gut clenches.

“Cupcake!” he blurts, gripping the wheel.

Your head turns abruptly. “What?”

“C-Cupcake, my cat,” he continues, not quite sure where he’s going with this. “You met her last time.”

After a pause, you reply back, “Yeah, I did.”

“I gave her a haircut. A really bad one. She had a bald spot, so I had to bring her to the groomers to get it fixed,” he rambles. “They tried their best, but she looks really awful right now. It’s pretty funny actually.”

You let out a soft chuckle. “Poor Cupcake.”

He glances at you briefly, his chest fluttering at the sight of your smile again. “You wanna go see my cats? I heard petting cats is therapeutic, although, not much to pet right now.”

Finally, you laugh.

“Sure, why not.”

When you finally get to his place, he knows he said the right thing. You sit on his couch, surrounded by his cats and a soft smile on your face.

“Awful, isn’t it?” he asks, taking a seat next to you. King jumps into his lap and he scoots closer to you.

“Absolutely terrible,” you chuckle, petting Cupcake gently.

“But you’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

You let out a quiet sigh.

“Bambam,” you look at him and his heart drops. “Maybe we should just stop this.”

“Fourteen!”

Your brows arch. “You really need to stop saying things without context.”

He puts King aside and grabs hold of your hand like a lifeline.

“I was fourteen. You mouthed my name on the first day of school. That’s when I started liking you.”

You blink up at him in surprise.

“The painting and photography club had to share the same classroom and I knew you just became the president. I did my brother’s chores for three weeks just so I could borrow his old camera,” he looks at you nervously. “I wasn’t planning on falling for photography. You’re the reason I’m where I’m at today.”

“Y-you’re giving me too much credit.”

He holds your hands tighter, shaking his head.

“Your parents have a screwed-up way of measuring your worth, but I don’t care about your job or how famous you are. I care about the girl who mouthed my name and made me feel special. You’ve always been kind to me, taking me seriously when no one else in our grade did. You were the first person to like my photos and you’ve always encouraged me, even though it came at the cost of your own feelings.” He looks at you seriously, “But it shouldn’t. I don’t want to compete against you, Y/N. I want to be on your side.”

“On my side?” you repeat, looking at your intertwined fingers.

“On your side, by your side,” he whispers. “You’re my muse, my first love, first heartbreak. I’d like you to be my last everything too.”

There’s a pause and his chest aches from the silence.

But then he sees it.

Your dimpled cheek.

“So, you had a crush on me since high school?”

He huffs. “That’s what you got from all that?”

You answer with a giggle, dimpled cheeks and very soft lips on his.

#got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #bambam #fluff #fanfic #marriage life au

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miraculous-ladybug-bitches · 4 years

Text

Summer Days

12 years old

Marinette sat at a table with 4 others.

The female blonde grins at her and says, “Hi. My name is Chloe!”

Marinette smiles back just as brightly. “I’m Marinette!”

“Nino!”

“Alya!”

“Adrien.”

Alya looks around. “Guess we’re stuck together.”

Chloe looks around and wrinkles her nose when she sees a kid shove mud down another’s shirt. “Definitely could be worse is all I’m saying.”

Alya snorts. “You're telling me.”

Nino looks around. “Our table is pretty nice.”

Mariette looks around the large camp. “It’s kind of a big camp. Pretty sure I’ll end up in the archery range instead of the bathroom at least once.”

Adrien suddenly lights up. “Why don’t we share numbers in case we get lost?”

They all quickly type in their numbers into one another’s phones.

“So what are you guys like?” Nino asks.

“My parents run a prestigious bakery. But I’m a fashion designer,” Marinette says.

“My mom works as the head chef at a very important resteraunt. I’m an up and coming reporter,” Alya proudly declares.

“My dad’s a fashion designer and I’m a model,” Adrien says.

Marinette gasps. “I knew you looked familiar! You’re related to Gabriel Agreste. And you!” Marinette says, pouting at Chloe. “You’re the mayor’s daughter, aren’t you?”

Chloe chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah. But I want to become a lawyer.”

“That’s pretty cool!” Nino exclaims. “My dad’s a DJ and I’m taking after him.”

Everyone chatters for a bit till their table gets their cabin number.

“This seems like it’ll be a fun year.” Alya chirps.

Everyone nods in agreement.

13 years old

“Look who it is, the great Chloe Bourgeois,” Alya said dramatically, bowing down.

Chloe turns and squeals in delight, running to tackle Alya in a hug.

Alya laughs and hugs her back. “We’ve been texting all year, dude.”

“That’s not the same as being in person,” A voice says from their left.

The two girls turn and see Marinette grinning with Nino and Adrien by her side.

“Guess who all are still in the same cabin?” Nino sing songs.

Chloe’s jaw drops “Really?”

Adrien smiles. “Oh, yeah.”

Marinette seems to rembarrer something, her mood dampening.

Alya notices right away. “Marinette? What happened?”

Marinette sighs. “I forgot to tell you but….my PARENTS GOT A JOB WORKING AT THE MAYOR’S OFFICIAL PARTY BAKERS!” Marinette screams.

Chloe screams with her the two girls hugging.

Alya smirks, pushing up her glasses. “Well,my mother got a job at his restaurant.”

Nino looks a bit lost but says,”My fam got a house near the mayors.”

Adrien snaps his fingers and points at Nino’s. “3 Florence street.”

Nino gaped at him. “How did you-”

Adrien grins. “That’s my neighbors house that just got sold!”

“Wait, so we’ll all be close to each other?” Chloe asks.

“Yup!” Marinette says, popping the p.

“You know it, girl!” Alya says, making everybody laugh.

They make their way to the cabin they recognized from last year.

14 years old

Nino opens the cabin door and laughs.

“Really guys? Again?” Nino says, flopping on his bed from the past two years after he sees the rest of the group.

“That best not be disappointment or we’re gonna have words,” Alya teases.

Adrien laughs at him from the bunk above him.

“Where’s Mari?” Nino asks.

Chloe waves off the question. “She went to go to the bathroom.”

Adrien snickers at a memory. “Remember when she got stuck in the archery range instead of the restroom?”

“She called it, man. She called it,” Nino affirms.

Alya nods thoughtfully. “She did, didn’t she?”

That exact moment, Marinette threw open the door but immediately hurried to shut it.

“We. Have a problem,” Marinette hisses.

Everyone stares at her.

“The fact that you may have broken the door?” Chloe says, pointing out the rattling hinge.

Marinette rapidly shakes her head. “No! They started the paintball tournament without us!”

Alya gasps in outrage as Adrien falls off top bunk. Nino tries to stand but hits his head on the top bunk and Chloe throws her magazine to the floor with an outraged, “What!”

“What are you waiting for, people, let's go!” Marinette yells, ushering everyone out.

They forgot to wear the gear and were covered in bruises for the rest of camp.

15 years old

“Spill,” Alya demands.

Marinette flushes. “I think I might have a tiny, itty, bitty crush on Adrien.”

Chloe immediately opens her hand and looks expectantly at Alya. “You owe me twenty bucks, Nancy Drew.”

Alya scowls and mutters a ‘bitch’ but gives her the money.

Marinette looks appalled between the two. “You bet on me liking Adrien!”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Of course not. We bet on when you would fess up. Now Alya has to, too”

Alya folds her arms over her chest. “Fess up what?”

“Please, darling, you may have got everyone else fooled, but I’m not a dumbass. You like Nino, plain as day,” Chloe scoffed.

“Well you like Nathaniel!” Alya says indignantly.

Chloe gives her a flat look. “Yes, that’s why we’re dating.”

Marinette tried not to gape at the two. “How the heck are you figuring this out so quick?”

The two other girls give her a flat look. “We aren’t oblivious idiots.”

Marinette huffs. “Go suck a dictionary.”

Alya sighs. “We need to teach you how to swear.”

Marinette glares at her. “No. I will swear in ice cream.”

Chloe scoffs. “How the fuck do you swear in ice cream?”

Marinette clears her throat. “What the Mint Chocolate Chip did you say to me, punk? I’ll kick your Rocky Road and then beat the ever loving Strawberry Cheesecake out of you!”

There was a beat of silence.

And then the three girls burst out laughing.

“Marinette not swearing,” Alya wheezed.

“Fucking imagine,” Marinette said, howling with laughter.

“The ice creams though,” Chloe choked, unable to breathe.

They girls spend the rest of the night under covers, laughing.

16 years old

“We’re counselors, guys!” Marinette cheers.

Adrien and Nino high five while Chloe and Alya smile at each other.

“Actually, I have more good news,” Alya says, excitement growing on her face.

“Me and Ayla are dating,” Nino blurts out.

Alya slaps his chest. “Nino! That was my line!”

Chloe sighs dramatically. “Finally. Took you long enough.”

Adrien grins. “Nino finally worked up the courage to ask her out.”

“Cough, bullshit, cough,” Marinette says, fake coughing.

Alya chuckled. “I asked out Nino and he was speechless.”

Adrien groans. “Come on, dude.”

Alya shook her head laughter in her eyes. “No, no, that’s not even the best part.”

Nino buries his head in his arms out of mortification.

Alya shook with laughter. “He asked the guy behind us, ‘Line?’ And the guy said, ‘I like you too and I’d love to go out with you.’ AND NINO SAID THE SAME DAMN THING AND AFTER HE TOLD THE GUY, ‘Thanks, bro.’”

Marinette couldn’t breath and Adrien’s stomach was hurting.

Chloe was full on cackling as Nino sighs.

This is what he gets for being friends with people like this.

17 years old

Adrien walks into the cabin, arm slung around Marinette’s shoulder.

The second they walk in, the other three start clapping.

“Finally, Mari!” Alya exclaimed.”

“Adrien, my man. Finally getting some!” Nino said, grinning.

Chloe looked between them. “Nope, they’re still virgins.”

Marinette squawks in outrage as Adrien flushes.

“How do you know?” Alya asks, looking over the edge of the top bunk to look down at Chloe.

Regardless of changing relationship statuses, no one would move from their spot. It was just the way it was.

“His hands are on her shoulder, not waist. And neither have that ‘sex glow’ on them,” Chloe points out.

“Sex glow?” Marinette sputters.

“Yeah, now I see it,” Alya said, squinting at the two.

“Adrien. Adrien, Adrien, Adrien. Come on dude. I thought you had better game then that,” Nino chides.

Adrien sighs. “I also thought I had better game than that.”

Marinette snorts. “I can assure you that you don’t.”

“Damn. Shots fired,” Chloe says.

“Roasted, toasted, and burnt, Adrien,” Alya says from the top bunk.

“Gotta get used to it, man. The whole sweatshirt giving. It doesn’t matter if you’re uncomfortable or freezing, just give it to her,” Nino says solemnly.

Adrien frowns. “Why can’t I be comfortable?”

Nino deadpan looks at him. “Adrien, you can either be in a relationship or be comfortable. You can’t have both.”

The cabin erupts with laughter from that one, simple line.

18 years old

“Off to college, huh?” Alya says as the group of 5 stars off into the lake on their last day of camp.

“Yeah. Me and Chloe’s universities are actually pretty close,” Nino says.

Chloe smiles. “I don’t mind having a coffee together every now and again.”

“Me and Alya are going to the same uni,” Adrien says.

“Hell yeah, up top!” Alya said while grinning, high giving the blonde.

Marinette was silent.

“Mari?” Chloe asks.

Marinette sighs. “I’m going to America. New York City, to be precise.”

Silence engulfs the group.

Nino breaks the silence. “Congrats. You deserve it. You worked really hard to get where you are now.”

Marinette smiles gratefully.

“We should meet up on vacations.” Alya suggests.

The rest agree.

“So I guess this is goodbye.” Adrien whispers.

Chloe lets out a bittersweet smile.

“Not goodbye. Just, see you in a bit.”

#adrienette #djwifi #chloe bourgeois #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #summer camp au #au yeah august

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yeetedintoouterspaces · 4 years

Text

☘💫 Choose 1 of us! Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader x Oikawa Tooru ( part 2! ) ☘💫

~ the next day ~

Oikawa came to school with ( insert favourite snack here ). Iwaizumi brought a bento filled with tasty foods for Y/n. To win a girl's heart, win her over with food! ( A/n: that's my philosphy hehe )

The two ran to class, in search of Y/n. Oikawa spotted her first and ran to her side. "Y/n-chan~ Good morning!~" He happily said as he eye smiled. Y/n returned the smile and replied, "Good morning Oikawa-kun!" Oikawa brought the snack up to her face and said in a sing-song voice, "your favourite~"

Y/n gleamed in delight. She happily thanked Tooru with her iconic eye smile. Iwaizumi, standing behind Tooru, looked slightly upset out of jealousy. Y/n could see the disappointed boy behind Tooru and asked, "Iwai-kun? What's the matter? Why the long face?"

Iwaizumi bit the inside of his cheek and replied, "nothing." Y/n sighed, "doesn't seem like nothing to me Iwai..." Tooru teased his friend, "is it cuz you're feeling a little jealous Iwai-kun?~" Iwaizumi punched Oikawa's shoulder and said roughly, "shut up Shittykawa."

Y/n laughed, "at least you're back to normal! Well, we should get back to our seats since the teacher is coming. See you during lunch?" The two boys replied, "mm see you." Oikawa turned to Iwaizumi and teased, "you were jealous weren't you~"

Iwaizumi took a deep breath, "let's not forget the bro code now." Tooru nodded, "I agree, let's see who will win her heart though~" Iwaizumi snickered, "I won't lose to you!"

~ lunch time! ~

Y/n sat inbetween the two boys and was about to buy food. Iwaizumi tapped her shoulder and noncholantly said, "I got this for you." He averted his eyes away from her face, too scared to see her reaction. Surprising to him, Y/n squealed with glee and thanked the boy.

She opened the bento to see many delicious side dishes like tamagoyaki, karage chicken, a tiny thing of salad and more! "Itadakimasu~ Thank you Iwai!~" Iwaizumi blushed, "no problem Y/n."

She saw poor Oikawa, pouting in jealousy because he wasn't getting any attention so Y/n got some rice and tamago onto her chopsticks and brought it up to his face. "Say ahh Tooru~" Y/n says as she opens her mouth, signalling him to do the same.

She brought it closer to his lips and Oikawa took a bite. To his surprise, it tasted really good! His eyes sparkled, "Iwa-chan did you make this yourself?" Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa confused, "yeah I mean who else would?" Y/n smiled brightly and nodded in agreement, "it really tastes awesome Iwaizumi-kun!"

The trio finished up their lunch and decided to go out together after school. They waited patiently for the school day to end, excited to spend time together. But of course Iwaizumi and Oikawa planned for something special.

~ after school ~

The three rushed out of class because they couldn't wait to hang out together. They ran out of the school campus and decided to go to the nearby mall.

"Y/n-chan~ Wanna go to a cafe?" Oikawa asked. Iwaizumi pointed to the nearby cinema, "or we could watch a movie," he suggested. "So~ so~ Y/n-chan~ What will it be?~" Oikawa asked as he grinned widely, internally hoping she would go with his idea.

Iwaizumi had his hands behind his back and crossed his fingers wishing Y/n would go with his idea. Y/n scratched her cheek and nervously said, "if you guys don't mind, I kinda wanted to go to the arcade. B-but it's fine if you don't want to! We could totally go with your suggestions!"

Iwaizumi and Oikawa both nodded in unison, "Yes of course an arcade! Great choice Y/n!" Oikawa said. Iwaizumi held his thumb up and nodded. Y/n giggled at their cuteness and they three made their way to the arcade.

After chit-chatting and making their way towards the arcade, they finally made it! Y/n yeeted her way towards the crane games because she loves plushies! They are just adorable and soft and squishy!

Oikawa tried to shoot his shot and offered to play for her, trying to impress the girl by getting a plushie. He slid the token in the machine and tried his best to get a plushie. The keyword being tried because poor Oikawa failed terribly.

Y/n tried to cheer him up by telling him that no one can truly get it on the first try, which in her defence was true. In her whole life, she had never witnessed it happening. Oikawa was motivated by the girl and tried again. You go Oikawa!

After many attempts, he finally did it! Iwaizumi chuckled behind him and teased, "I'm praying for your wallet right now." Oikawa shot back almost immediatly, "doesn't matter! As long as Y/n likes it it's fine! Hmph!"

Y/n thanked him and offered to pay him back as she felt guilty. But since Stinky- oops I meant Oikawa was such a gentleman, he declined the offer and said that it was a present from him. Y/n thanked him once more and the three continued to have fun together.

It was getting late and the three were feeling tired. They were making their way towards the train station. But Y/n had to go to the bathroom, leaving the two besties together.

( back to back convo here! )

Oikawa: You plan to confess to her?

Iwaizumi: Yeah but I don't know when to ask

Oikawa: Wanna ask her on the way home?

Iwaizumi: Sure but how?

Oikawa: Glad you asked my dude, we will just ask her to choose!

Iwaizumi: Uhh sure but it sounds incredibly stupid

Oikawa: Iwa-chan your so mean! Hmph!

Y/n ran towards them and apologised for taking so long. She took out 2 bear keychains and gave 1 to each of them. "Just a small thank you for today! Hope you guys like it!" Y/n says while she was still panting.

Oikawa smiled genuinely, "Thank you Y/n-chan~ I'll take good care of it and cherish it." Iwaizumi also thanked her, "thanks Y/n. I'll hang it on my wallet." Oikawa and Y/n both sweatdropped from his comment but it was fine, it was cute of him.

"Y-y/n?" Oikawa asked shakily. Iwaizumi placed his hand on his shoulder and told him to take a deep breath. Oikawa did so and tried again.

"Y/n-chan." Oikawa says firmly. Y/n felt quite nervous. He looked like he was going to say something important to her. Before she could guess, the two friends nodded in unison and asked at the same time

"Y/n-chan, who do you like? Me or him? Choose 1 of us!"

Y/n was shocked to say the least.

Who will she pick?

☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

A/n: Hehehe who will Y/n pick? That's up to you to pick! Let your imagination flow my dudes and I'm sorry for updating a little late! I had exams so I'm sorry!!!

I'm sorry if this was bad too! Thank you for reading and stay safe!♡

#iwaizumi haikyuu #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x y/n #oikawa fluff #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa fic #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa scenarios #iwaizumi scenarios #yeetedintoouterspace

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milos-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday to...Me? (Oneshot)

Luigi sat up from his bed, an eager smile on his face. The smile, however, faded almost instantly. No one was around. Today is Luigi's birthday and usually on his birthday, his brother, Mario woke him up bright and early.

His first thought was that Mario was still asleep. So, he sprung out of bed and climbed up the ladder to his brother's bunk. He pulled out the messy sheets and exclaimed, "Happy birth-" before realizing no one was in the bed.

Luigi sighed, sliding down the ladder. He was sad. Mario could never forget his birthday, mostly because they share it. He walked over to the calendar on the wall. On the calendar, a large red circle surrounded the 24th, with the text 'MARIO + LUIGI B-DAY' written in the middle and each day before that crossed out with a red 'x'. He was certain it was the right day.

He decided to not let his day go to waste and get dressed. As he approached his dresser across the room, he spotted a little white note on the coffee table through the doorway. He quickly made his way over to it to read it.

The excitement Luigi had for this note was high, his face gleaming. His hyped-up smile dropped as he read it. It read, "Out saving Peach again - sorry bro."

He dropped the note back onto the table and sulked back to his room. No birthday for Luigi.

After getting dressed, Luigi left the house to find something to do to distract his mind. Head down and arms to his side, he walked down the path to Toad Town.

Maybe the calendar was off, he thought at first, but he made sure everyday he marked it correctly. Maybe it was a leap year, he thought next. He shook his head. There was one of those last year. Maybe...maybe I'm too old for a birthday.., was his third thought. He laughed that one off. You can never be to old for a birthday!

Right?

Upon arriving to the town, his attention was centered on the castle. An onslaught of red could be seen all over it. Banners, balloons, streamers. He took a step back in disbelief. Was he just... forgotten?

Luigi ran towards the castle. He wasn't mad, nor disappointed however. He had learned to accept these sorts of things now. Mario gets all the attention while Luigi wallowing in his shadow. He was always there for him, but he was hardly acknowleged. Might as well join the party instead of drowning in sorrow.

He made his way into the castle where Peach, with a small red party hat atop her head, greeted him. He felt betrayed at this. Did Mario lie to him so he could have a party by himself?

He shouldn't be upset. It's just a birthday party, but to him, these things were sacred. It's not 'just a birthday party' to him. To him, it's a special moment to spend time with the one person he loves the most. And to see that one person go behind his back and have that special moment without him broke his heart.

"Luigi?" Peach snapped her fingers in front of him to get his attention. Luigi snapped out of his thoughts and focused back to Peach who smiled to him. "So glad you could make it. If you don't mind, we're having the party outside. Follow me."

Luigi unenthusiastically nodded and followed Peach to the courtyard. He could only imagine what was planned out for his brother's party. That was until Peach opened the pink heart-shaped doors that led to the outside garden.

The whole place was seemingly redesigned to fit... Him. Green flowers, green decor, just green everywhere. More green than he could even comprehend.

"I think we went a little overboard," Peach commented with a giggle, removing the tiny red hat and replacing it with a green variant. Luigi only nodded in awe before a smidge of red entered his line of sight. It drastically stood out from this forest of his favorite color.

It was Mario, running over to the two, a green party hat sitting atop his signature red cap. Luigi snickered at this, "Bro, you look ridiculous."

"I know," Mario shook his head with a smile, coming to a stop next to his brother.

"What is all this?" Luigi asked, gesturing to the mass of green that was beginning to irritate his eyes.

"It's for you!" Peach answered, "We decided to throw you a birthday party."

"We knew you were feeling a little unappreciated, so we thought we could make this whole day all about you," Mario smiled to his brother who was beginning to now blend in to the background.

Luigi's smile grew back, a single tear rolling down his cheek, but then he thought, "But Mario, today's your birthday too! What are-"

Mario cut him off with a hand gesturing him to stop. "Forget about my birthday, today is for you! And besides, all I want anyway is to make you happy," he told him.

He almost immediately received a tight hug from his younger, albeit taller, twin brother, throwing him completely off guard. He returns it, hearing a soft, "Thank you," from his brother.

~~~~~

A/N: For the record, I have no idea what day their birthday is on, or if they have one for that matter

#luigi #mario #princess peach #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot

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keelywolfe · 5 years

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FIC: Just a Walk in the Park (baon)

Summary: All Stretch wants is to be able to sleep in again. A shame the universe thinks that's too much to ask.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Angst, Mentions of Depression and Therapy, Hints of Kustard, Flirting, Hints of Citrus

part of the ‘by any other name’

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch was asleep.

It was morning and sunshine was pouring through the window where Edge had helpfully pulled back the curtains. The scent of coffee was even wafting tantalizingly through the air but none of that mattered, nope.

Because he was asleep. That was his story and he was sticking to it.

And as a sleeping person, he was well within his rights to ignore the sound of footsteps as someone who better not want sex came into the room. Whether or not it was his husband didn’t matter, because either way, Stretch was sleeping and therefore sex was not to be had.

They’d been at it for half the night and it had been fantastic, fuck yes, that earthquakingly gorgeous, hot sweaty love sex of song and poetry. A little part of him never got tired of listening to Edge whisper sweet, dirty nothings, but now? He was damned tired.

He’d earned this rest and his knees would testify to it.

A hand settled on Stretch’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Love?”

Welp, so much for sleeping. Stretch didn’t even lift his head from the pillow. “if you’re wanting a little something-something, it’s going to be a half-hearted hand job at best.”

The sound Edge made probably counted as a laugh, “Much as I appreciate the offer, no, you can keep all your somethings this morning. Sans is here to see you.”

That made him pry open a socket, “really? what does he want?”

Edge, who was of course already dressed and ready to seize the day and smelled enough like coffee to be awful tempting despite Stretch’s exhaustion, only shrugged. “Difficult as this may be for you to believe, he didn’t give me a written agenda. Come ask him yourself.”

“yeah, yeah,” Stretch grumbled. He sat up with a yawn, shivering as he left behind the warm cocoon of their bed and made his way to the closet. Knowing Sans, a bathrobe wasn’t going to be good enough.

His point was proven almost immediately. Sans was perched on the arm of the sofa, slouching against the wall and ignoring the fiery glare Edge was beaming at his still-damp shoes. It was kind of cute how Sans managed to get on Edge’s nerves the same way Red did, but considering they were sort of the same guy only from a different side of the color wheel, it wasn’t really a surprise.

“hey, pal,” Sans offered him a lazy grin. “edge tells me you were still catching zzz’s. why don’t we step outside so you can have a smoke, yeah?”

“Yes, please, very discreet. Excellent way to disguise the fact that you want to speak to him without me around,” Edge said dryly. “I’ll never suspect a thing.”

Sans only gave him a wink and a finger gun, seeming not to notice the way it made Edge’s socket twitch. “don’t need to be paranoid, edgelord, it’s no big thing. figured i’ll get him outta the house for a mo’ and you can finish scotch guarding the sofa.”

“I wasn’t scotch guarding it.”

“yeah?” Sans’s grin turned sharper, knowing. “from what i know about you two, it could probably use a second coat.”

Yeah, okay, time to break up this party because someone was going to get hurt and Stretch figured it would probably be him.

“c’mon, you shit, the nicotine is singing my song,” Stretch yawned as he shoved his feet into his sneakers. He barely held back a squawk as Sans appeared at his elbow. Little fucker was smoother than any of them at shortcuts; half the time Stretch barely caught him at it. They both gave Edge a waggle-fingered wave on the way out the door and Stretch could only snicker when Edge flipped them off in return.

His baby was always at his sassiest when he was pissy.

“don’t think he believed me,” Sans said easily. He followed Stretch down the walkway, lingering at the end of the drive while Stretch dug around in his hoodie for his ciggies. It was a nice enough day, sunny and a little cold, but hinting at spring.

“can’t imagine why. edge loves it so much when he’s in the dark about shit. you want to open that can of worms with him, then you can take him fishing. i’m not mediating.” He shook out a cigarette and wordlessly offered the pack to Sans while he lit his own. “so what’s up?”

Sans shrugged, stealing Stretch’s lighter to light his. He inhaled deeply, the tip glowing cherry red and finally said in a cloud of smoke. “haven’t seen you lately. wanted to tell you i finished with the infusion a few days ago, and, hey, andy’s not a bad lab assistant.”

Stretch snorted, meandering down the sidewalk with Sans more or less next to him. At the pace they were going, they’d probably get to the end of the block by dinnertime. A few of the kiddos were playing nearby and when they all waved enthusiastically, Stretch gave them a sloppy salute back.

“you mean andy kept his mouth shut and cleaned up after you were done. yeah, he’s a good egg.”

“did an egg-cellent job.

Stretch snickered and shook his head. “i don’t have the hen-durance for this today. what happened with the infusion?”

“same thing as before.” Sans rubbed a knuckle tiredly between his eyes, cigarette clenched in his teeth while Stretch could only sigh in disappointment. “even with the extra magic, it breaks down after a few days. we’re headed in the wrong direction. even if we get it working, we can’t reproduce the results en masse. but that’s an entirely different can of worms we can chew over later. came over today to bring you this.”

From his own hoodie pocket, he drew out a small plastic bottle, filled with an oily liquid. Stretch took it with a frown and opened it, sniffed warily.

“it’s a healing infusion.” Sans tapped off a long cylinder of ash into the snow. “went with the tropical paradise scent for ya. thought you’d like that better than night orchid.”

“you spoil me. why are you giving me this?”

It wasn’t often that the lazy humor left Sans’s face, complicated by his permanent grin. But his voice was soft and serious as he said, “because he hasn’t noticed your base hp dropped to 4, and i figured you might want to try and do something before he did.”

A chill went through Stretch despite the sunshine, trailing up his spine and ending in a painful throb at his soul. “what?”

Sans sighed, dropping his cigarette to the sidewalk and crushing it beneath one untied sneaker. “you didn’t notice either, huh.”

He hadn’t. Swallowing hard, Stretch ran a check of his own HP, cringing inwardly when it showed Sans was right; he was currently at a max HP of 4. The cold seemed worse all of a sudden and Stretch closed his sockets, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to stifle a shiver.

He’d been at 5 for a couple of years now, up from 1 when they’d gotten here. All of the low HP skellie triplets had topped out at 5 so far, but Stretch hadn’t a complaint about that, until now.

A gentle hand settled at the small of his spine, rubbing soothingly for a moment. “woah, it’s okay.” Sans let go and stepped back, putting a little space between them. He shuffled his feet awkwardly as he added, “this’ll help. i mean, fuck, it’s only fair. it was your magic to begin with.”

“but…i’m happy,” Stretch whispered. His voice seemed too small, pleading, with who? Sans? The universe? Because he was happy, there was no reason for his HP to be dropping. He loved Edge, he loved being married, he was fucking happy, this wasn’t fair, it wasn’t “…i am. happy.”

“hey,” Sans said, unusually gentle. “no one thinks you’re not. c’mon, you know better than that, there’s lotsa reasons for hp to drop. for one, you’ve been sick a few times recently, yeah? use that, see if it helps before you start worrying, okay?”

It was true, he knew it was true, there were plenty of reasons for HP to fluctuate. He was probably lucky nothing had happened sooner.

Stretch nodded and took a deep, shaky breath, then let it out. When he felt a little steadier, he slanted a look downward to Sans. “so when did you check me and find this time bomb?”

Sans shrugged. “didn��t.” He didn’t bother saying who did. “your bro likes to give everyone a once-over on movie night, though, so use it sooner rather than later, or you’ll be having a happy little chat with him instead of enjoying the indiana jones marathon.”

Yeah, there was something to avoid. His brother’s version of a trap had changed over the years, but you could still get caught in ‘em if you weren’t careful. Stretch twisted the bottle in his hand, watching the glossy liquid slosh around. “you really think this’ll work?”

“i think if it doesn’t work, it won’t hurt.” For all that Sans’s teeth were as blunt as Stretch’s, his wolfish grin wouldn’t have been out of place on another face. “red didn’t have any problems when i tried it on him. got a little pissed when he figured out the tingle wasn’t mint.”

He didn’t sound displeased by that. Ugh, there was a mental image he could’ve done without. Stretch hesitated a moment, asking slowly, “how are you two—"

“yeah, go on ahead and stop right there,” Sans interrupted. His grin was easy, his eye lights decidedly not. “you’ve been a bro, but it’s not up for discussion right now. i only have the energy for one crisis at a time and, brother, you’re at the front of the line.”

“am i?” Stretch gave him an exaggerated wink. “shame i didn’t get to go on the ride.”

Sans latched on to that bait eagerly, snickering. Neither of them were much for the serious brotherly bonding bullshit. “you’ll have to hit up space mountain another time. eh, have the edgelord help slick you up, bet he could use something to do with his hands.”

“you’d think, but the main thing he’s been doing on his vaycay is me.” Stretch rubbed at the small of his back ruefully. “can’t say i mind, but i’m starting to walk like a cowboy after a ride in a three-day posse. love him, but fuck, i can’t wait for him to go back to work.”

“at least you can get away in the lab. i was kinda waiting for you to call and pester me about stopping in.”

“eh, you know, been taking it easy, not doing anything dangerous lately…” Stretch stopped and sighed heavily, letting his head drop. “you already know.”

“that you haven’t been down to the lab since your accident? yep.” Sans reached out to worm a hand into his hoodie pocket to filch another smoke and Stretch let him. Probably needed a little extra nicotine boost because Stretch sure as shit did. They traded the lighter again, both of them with a smoldering cigarette before Sans went on. “the state of the place was a good clue. all your hydroponic plants are dead, pal, sorry.”

That made him wince; that was months of work down the tubes. “it wasn’t as much an accident as it was stupidity. not following basic lab protocol isn’t accidental.”

They were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, not even pretending to walk anymore, and Sans looked like he wanted to argue. Instead, he shook his head. “you’re gonna have to talk to your therapist, you know that.”

He couldn’t dance around with Sans on that point and knew it. Sans was firmly on the side of therapy after starting his own and it had done him well. He was better with the therapy, the permanent shadows under his sockets faded. He was still an asshole, sure, but character flaws were past the skills of even the best headshrinker.

He didn’t know the full laundry list of Sans’s issues aside from some about Flowey. They’d all been there when the Human first showed up here so Stretch knew that wasn’t it.

They’d never had the problems Underswap did with their Human; Frisk was a sweetheart of a kid. Their resemblance to… someone else…was superficial at best.

Still, the first time seeing them had been enough of a shock to send Stretch to his knees. He still didn’t pal around the kid too often, and the idea of being a diplomat like the others? Yeah, pass.

Stretch took a long drag of his cigarette, held in the smoke until it burned, remembering that first meeting. Edge had given him a disgusted look then, even as Blue fussed. He hadn’t known about…about Chara, okay, he could think the name. He could fucking do that much. Hadn’t known about what had happened to his brother, to Blue, during their patch of resets, but even then, buried beneath his disgust, there had been a hint of concern.

Edge cared so much, even when he didn’t want to.

Stretch slipped the infusion bottle into his hoodie pocket, avoiding Sans’s keen look as he said through his teeth, “i will, okay? i have an appointment in a couple days, i’ve been going every week like a good little boy, so you can save the lecture for a rainy day.”

Sans only held up his hands in mock surrender. “no lecture here. only, when the when the two talls and a small start worrying about you, it tends to roll over to me and red. gotta keep solidarity with the low hp crowd, kid.”

He easily dodged the half-hearted kick Stretch aimed at him. “we are the same age, sans, you are such an asshole.”

He only smirked and gave Stretch a wink. “own it and bone it. welp, i’m going to take off from here, have fun with the edgelord!”

He was gone with barely a pop of displaced air. They’d only walked about two houses down. Stretch finished his cigarette before shortcutting back. Probably going to need to conserve his energy.

Edge was sitting in front of the coffee table when Stretch stepped inside. He was doing an actual jigsaw puzzle, the pieces spread out evenly. It was hard to call what he was doing enjoyment from the way seemed to be trying to light the pieces on fire from the force of his glare, but at least he wasn’t scrubbing the grout again.

Stretch kicked off his shoes and walked over, picking up the discarded box where the picture showed an endless pile of jelly beans and cheery letters declared it was ‘impuzzible’.

Well, he liked it already.

Edge could only have started it this morning and he was already half-done, picking up a piece and snapping it in while Stretch watched.

His baby was so brilliant. He liked to call Stretch a genius and maybe he was, but Edge’s brilliance was a hell of a lot more useful in practice. Strategy and skill were more valuable than being able to calculate a square root at any given time.

Didn’t matter, back to the task at hand, hmmm, there were so many fake emotions to go for…

“hey, babe.” Stretch went with relentlessly cheery and from the look Edge sent his way, he’d fooled him right around zero percent. Ah, well, can’t win ‘em all. “can you help me with something?”

“Of course,” Edge said briskly and gave Stretch the full weight of his attention. That was a little heavier than Stretch wanted to deal with on no coffee so he rummaged through his hoodie for the bottle of oil and handed it over to give him something else to stare at.

Edge took it with wary curiosity, shaking it a little the same way Stretch had. “What is it?”

Partial honesty was a good place to start. “it’s an infusion similar to what i used on you before, only there’s a little more juice to it.”

Edge hummed thoughtfully. “Why did Sans give it to you?”

“because it’s my turn to play guinea pig,” and before the inevitable protests could spill out, he hurried to add, “gotta have a control for tests, babe. and sans thought you might be bored. said helping with an oil change might refuel you.”

Okay, as rude as the sound Edge made was, it was also incredibly funny. “I can’t say I appreciate how concerned everyone is for my well-being.”

“trust me, we know.” But he seemed sufficiently distracted, at least. “why don’t you go lay down some towels while i grab a coffee?”

“Why is it, I wonder, that when you do experiments, I get extra chores?” But he stole a lingering kiss when he stood and the way he went up the stairs had a certain eagerness to it.

Stretch watched him go; he was never too tired to appreciate those hips in a pair of jeans. Then he went to the kitchen for a cup of sweet liquid caffeination. He was going to need all the wits he could muster up.

By the time he went upstairs, Edge had layered their bed in towels and changed into an old t-shirt that was worn so thin Stretch could see the outline of his rib cage. He’d also swapped out his gloves for a pair of inexpensive white cotton ones, which, ah, well, too much to hope he’d go without.

“Well, let’s get started,” Edge said briskly.

Stretch only smiled sweetly, tugging his hoodie over his head. “you’re awful eager to give me a rubdown, babe. can’t wait to get your hands on these bones?”

“Always.” His voice was low and dark, and Stretch shivered helplessly.

Okay, yeah, Sans might have had practical reasons, but his theory was sound. This was a great idea. Stretch shimmied out of his track pants and sprawled out in his front, wriggling until he was comfortable against the terrycloth. “have at it, babe.”

There was a slosh of liquid and the next sound Edge made was one of disgust. “Wonderful, you’ll smell like you took a swim in a vat of cheap piña coladas.”

“hey, you can piña my colada anytime you want—oh, fuck,” Stretch groaned as Edge’s thumbs pressed firmly against his thoracic vertebra.

Even through the gloves, Edge’s hands were warm, rubbing the oil over him in long, firm strokes. He shifted over to the scapulas, working his way down to the intricacies of his lumbar spine and massaging in between each vertebra, until Stretch was less of a skeleton and more of a puddle of bones against the towels. The desire that Stretch swore would be hibernating for at least a week was stirring with interest, settling into the hollow of his pelvic girdle.

When those strong hands reached his pelvis, Stretch whimpered, jerking as sly fingertips sought out places that Edge knew were sensitive.

“There?” Edge murmured when Stretch pushed up into his touch with a gasp.

“there! oh…”

He didn’t tease. Edge’s fingers moved with tender care as they brought him to a gentle peak and while Stretch lay gasping, shivering in pleasurable aftershocks, he continued downward, rubbing the oil into his femurs, down to the delicate bones of his ankles and feet. Sans hadn’t been kidding about the tingle but eh, he tended to get that whenever Edge touched him, anyway.

“Done.” Edge sat back on his heels. His hands lingered anyway, tweaking one iliac crest gently.

“okay,” Stretch was proud that his voice didn’t so much as wobble. “go ahead and check me.”

He tried not to cringe as the invasive prickle of it washed over him. Most people didn’t even seem to notice them; it was just a sign of his luck that Stretch was sensitive to it.

“Hm. It doesn’t seem to have done anything. Your HP is 5, the same as normal.”

Stretch kept his face in the pillow a minute longer, closing his sockets briefly.

“eh, that’s what was supposed to happen, babe,” Stretch said evenly. He rolled over and tried a leer on for size, finding the fit to be easy enough. “tell you what, how about i return about half of the favor? i promise it’ll be the better half.”

Edge arched a brow bone. As though Stretch couldn’t already see the faint crimson glow coming from right around his crotch level. “Do you mean you have more than a lackluster hand job to offer now?”

“oh, honey,” Stretch let his voice drop to a throaty growl, lifting his arms over his head and arching his spine with a groan. Edge’s eye lights flared, miniature supernovas. “i think i can do much better than that.”

But he laughed softly as Edge leaned over him. Catching his shoulders even as Stretch wrapped his legs around his hips, neither of them caring about the oily smears he left on the jeans.

Fuck it, he could give his pelvis a vacation of its own next week and besides, there were worse ways to dust.

~~*~~

Later, Edge didn’t even look up from his nearly finished puzzle when Stretch stepped outside, well accustomed to him wandering out for a smoke.

Instead of pulling out his cigarettes, Stretch teleported to the side door at his brother’s house. It was plain without even a window in it, steel and secure. He lifted the cover on the keypad and hesitated, fingers hovering over numbers.

Then he clenched his hand into a fist, ducking his head as he let it fall closed again.

“Mister Papyrus Stretch Sir?”

Stretch came too damn close to screaming and the fleeting urge to form an attack didn’t even make it past a thought. He turned to the kid standing behind him with a smile pasted firmly in place.

“hey kiddo,” he said cheerily, “what’s up?”

The kid wasn’t convinced. His small face showed his worry, small brow furrowed. “Are you okay? You looked sad.”

“yep, i’m all kinds of okay.” He crouched down and scrubbed his knuckles over the kid’s head the same way he’d done to his brother when he was little. The same way he still did to his bro. It earned him a little smile, but not quite a laugh, hrm. “tell you what, how do you feel about doing an experiment tomorrow? i’ve been making some plans and edge is still off work. bet we could rope him in to help.”

The kid brightened instantly. “Yeah, okay! Tomorrow morning?”

“sounds good. see you then!” He called as the kid ran away. Stretch winced as the kid took a header right into the snow. He scrambled back to his feet without missing a beat, running off to tell all the other brats what was up.

He let the smile drop, gave the door a last glance, and then turned away. Almost, he took a shortcut, but in the end, Stretch simply walked back home. He could use the air.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underswap papyrus #underfell papyrus #by any other name

36 notes · View notes

scornedlove · 5 years

Text

Chapter Twenty One

ROBYN

“Thanks for coming with me today.” Melanie beamed, showing her pearly whites as she arranged her photos on the display. Jermaine usually accompanied her during festival events she worked to keep her company, but since we were leaving for Barbados tomorrow, we made it a girl’s night. She was a vendor for “Jazz on the Lawn” this year, a cultural event for arts in the city. She brought sixteen photographs and sold half in the first hour we’ve been here, I felt like a proud big sister.

“Of course, you know this is my kind of shit; food, music, and art. It’s like we’re getting a head start for crop over, I wish Rayven would’ve came.” I frowned, thinking about how antisocial she’s been lately. She seemed to be back to herself, but different all together. She’s a lot quieter than before and a complete homebody. She doesn’t leave home, other than when we go to work. I never thought it was possible, but I’m starting to miss her smart mouth.

“She’ll get back to herself eventually, but I like the new Rayven a little better” she admitted with a shrug. "And this don’t compare to crop over, I can’t wait”

“True, but I swear this event is twice as big as it was the last time I came. When Chris and I used to come here together, I would lay out on a blanket and listen to the music while he sold his paintings, and it was never this many people” I reminisced aloud, while rocking along to the band currently playing.

“Un-un. You gotta stop doing that” she frowned, shaking her head.

“Doing what?” I asked confused. I was only doing a slight rock to the beat, if she was already embarrassed, she hadn’t seen nothing yet.

“Stop referencing him in every conversation” she criticized, before turning on her professional face and voice to approach a couple who was coming over to browse her photos. She talked as they browsed until they found one they both couldn’t walk away from.

“You gotta understand that it’s hard not to mention him, we were together for almost as long as I been here. He’s apart of damn near every memory I have, especially in the city” I explained, as soon as her customers were out of ear shot.

“I’m sorry sis, but it’s time to make some new memories. Have you talked to Dre recently?” she asked changing the subject. She swore he was the answer to my problems, but I begged to differ. He’s just as damaged as I am, only difference is he doesn’t even realize it.

“No. I’ve been so busy. Working non-stop. We’ll be dropping the uh winter collection for River Island soon” I stammered while playing with my hair.

“Excuses, excuses” she rolled her eyes, giving me a dismissive wave. “That boy loves you. You need to give him a real chance”

“What makes you think he ‘loves’ me?” I scoffed, entertaining her assumptions.

“Do you not remember me giving Jermaine the same run around you’re giving Dre? Look at us now.” she smiled, glancing down at her ring finger.

“So , now that you’ve been married for five minutes, you’re the love expert” I chuckled and she flipped me off.

“No, I’m not an expert. I took good advice from my sister and now I couldn’t be happier”

“You’re just happy to be getting consistent dick after that long ass drought” I snickered . It was still unbelievable that my promiscuous best friend somehow ended up married before me, so it was hard to take her serious.

“Laugh all you want, but you’re right. I get consistent dick, massages, conversation, and love in general. Let that sink in” she winked, leaving me to tend to her growing crowd, as a few more people came over.

The smell of food filled my nostrils while I watched and waited. Mel was working, so I found myself wondering off to find something to eat. The closest thing I found was a taco truck and thankfully there was only a handful of people in line.

“Lots of hot sauce please.” I gave the friendliest smile I could, encouraging the worker to give extra after handing me our food. I was so excited about the extra hot sauce he gave me, that I didn’t notice I was being watched.

“Let me help you with that!” someone called out, stepping out of line to help me balance the drinks, food, and my wallet, as I was about to walk past.

“Chris? What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to keep my face platonic. I wasn’t his biggest fan right now. Somehow, I inadvertently befriended his girlfriend. “I didn’t realize you still participated in this event.”

“I don’t, but I know several artists that are. I’m here for support” he shrugged, before taking the drinks I was carrying.

“Who are you here with?” I asked, praying it wasn’t Tae. She came down to the boutique a few weeks ago. We went over some ideas, then tweaked them back and forth through email for a few days. Eventually, we came up with a design that she loved for their bridesmaid dresses. I'm over her existence in general. All she talked about was how ‘in love’ her and her man were, and there was no way Chris was that into her.

“I came with Trey. He’s out looking for the beer, while I get the food.” he replied, before asking me the same thing.

“I’m here with Mel” I revealed, nodding towards her as I began to walk in that direction. Her crowd had died down and she was grinning from ear to ear while texting. That is, until she looked up and spotted Chris following my lead.

“Why am I not surprised?” she asked throwing her hands up and shaking her head at me.

"You're looking good too Mel" Chris nodded towards her, killing her with kindness. I knew he was still on her bad side, so I didn’t expect her to be nice or even hold her tongue around him.

"Yup" she retorted, folding her arms and refusing to look at him. He looked at me as if there was something I could say to change her attitude, but I stayed out of it.

“Trey’s wedding is soon, on the thirty-first. Are ya’ll going to make it?” he asked changing the subject while looking from her to me.

“Nope” Mel replied before taking her Coke from his hand and the plate of tacos from me, then dismissing herself.

"She'll come around ...I hope" I mumbled, frowning at her spitefulness.

"Speaking of coming around, T told me you came by the gallery last week. I wish you would've told me you were coming; we could've grabbed a bite to eat or something"

"Well I was in the neighborhood and it's been a minute so, I decided to see what you've been up to lately. By the way, I was not disappointed" I smiled, thinking of the piece I purchased. It was completely different from anything he’s ever done.

“Thanks. I’ve fallen in love with spray paint” he admitted, a broad smile spreading across his face revealed his dimples.

“There you are. I called you several times bro!” Trey interjected, coming from behind Chris and slapping his shoulder. I jumped back a little, then grabbed my drink so they didn’t drop it with all their roughing around.

“My bad, I ran into Robyn and got sidetracked”

“Robyn?!” Trey exclaimed, finally noticing me. He pulled me into a bear hug then playfully spun me around, making my shirt twirl. “You’re looking good girl”

“You look good too” I gushed. “Congrats on everything. I’m sorry I won’t be able to make the wedding but I’m so happy for you and Lala”

“Thank you. Who’s the lucky guy?” he asked, noticing the diamond on my ring finger. Chris’ eyes widened as he struggled to look around Trey and get a glimpse of the ring himself.

“Oh nah, that’s not that kind of ring” I explained, pulling my hand back. I could’ve sworn I heard Chris sigh of relief and his posture relaxed.

“Did you find the beer or nah?” Chris interrupted, getting between us.

“No, but check this out” he grinned, pulling a clear plastic bag from his pocket and holding it up to Chris’ nose.

“That shit nasty. I got a stick in the car. You trying to blow right now?” he asked, ready to smoke.

“Yeah, let me see if I can find us a couple of coronas first, then I’ll meet you at the car. It was good seeing you Robyn” he added, before disappearing into the crowd.

“So, Mama’s grilling on Labor Day this year” Chris stated, turning his attention back to me. “I told her about running into you and she wanted me to invite you.” he revealed, pulling off his cap and running his hands across the top of his head.

“Why doesn’t she invite your current girlfriend?” I probed, wondering what Ms. Joyce was up to.

“She did, but she won’t be able to make it. She has something going on with her family”

“I don’t know if I’ll be in the city then, but I’ll let you know.” I replied with a half shrug. “I’m trying to hit that blunt with ya’ll tho”

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked, raising his brows.

“Since I’m grown and do what I want” I snapped, throwing my hands on my hips.

“Damn, my bad. I didn’t mean to offend you. I never imagined you smoking weed” he grinned, biting his bottom lip.

“Well I’m not the Robyn you used to know.”

“That’s perfect, because I’m not the Chris you used to know” he replied, before leading the way to the parking lot.

We hot boxed two blunts of some of the strongest weed I’d ever had in Trey’s car and my high ass couldn’t stop giggling. No matter how corny their jokes were, Chris and Trey had me in the back seat in tears for twenty minutes straight.

“If I would’ve known you get like this after smoking, we would’ve been doing it together.” Chris confessed when Trey stepped out of the car to take a phone call.

“I'm not usually this giggly. Actually, smoking usually makes me horny” I replied when I finally caught my breath.

“We’re not even going to go there”

“Why not? We can’t talk about sex if we aren’t having it?”

“Hell nah, talk about that shit with Mel. I don’t want to hear shit about you fucking anybody else.”

“Who says I’m fucking anybody else?” I smirked, enjoying the jealousy on his face.

“So, you’re gonna sit here and tell me you haven’t had sex since we’ve been together?” he quizzed, tilting his head to the side.

“That’s not what I said. I’m not fucking anyone currently, but I’ve been with one person since you.” I admitted unapologetically, before opening the door and putting the blunt out on the ground.

“I’ve had my share” he agreed with a nod, refusing to give an exact number.

“Well, I bet none of em got nothing on me” I smirked, noticing the bulge in his pants.

“You sound pretty confident”

"Because you're happy to see me” I grinned, nodding towards his erection.

“My bad. It's not you- I mean, not like you don't look good, because you do." He stammered with bright red cheeks while adjusting himself. "It’s been awhile”

“Oh, your girlfriend got you on punishment? I’m sure you deserve it” I teased with a giggle. “What you do?”

“It’s not even like that” he paused, then sighed when he saw me waiting for him to continue. “she’s celibate”

“So ya’ll haven’t even...?” I gasped and he quickly replied with a shake of the head.

“Damn, you went from having your cookie and eating it too, to having a drought!" I laughed loudly as my phone started to ring.

It was Mel cursing me for leaving her for so long. I started to argue that she was being dramatic, but then I noticed we had been gone for almost an hour. I hung up with her and promised Chris we'd hang out again soon before we parted ways.

Surprisingly, Mel didn’t complain or have one negative thing to say when I came back. She sold everything she’d brought so we hung out for another hour before calling it a night.

Early the next morning, Rayven claimed she wasn’t feeling good and decided to sit out on crop over. I would’ve made a big deal about it, but I remembered the last encounter she had with her mom. That had to be the real reason she was avoiding BIM.

“The holidays will be here in no time; I’ll go then.” she groaned with her face in her pillow as I stood there with my hands on my hips. “Fine, I guess you can stay with Ollie and Pepe” I shrugged without a fight. I was glad I wouldn’t have to board my babies, and it’s not like I could force her to go anyway.

An hour later, Mel and I boarded the plane with so much excitement. We had fun people watching and talking shit, but it wasn’t long before she passed out and I was on my own. I wish I had that gift, but I was no longer taking the anxiety medicines that could help with that. I hadn’t even noticed I was taking less the past couple of months. Only, I was also smoking more and that usually did the trick a lot faster.

Instead of sleeping, I found myself catching up on some work. Fashion week was creeping up and there were a couple pieces that didn’t feel complete. I was being indecisive on some finishing touches.

I was also working on an event of my own. Last year, I was so depressed that I didn’t even celebrate the first anniversary of Robyn’s. This year, we’re going to begin an annual fashion show and I was keen to the idea of my very own catwalk. It meant more work, but I was more motivated than I’ve been in awhile and I wanted to milk this feeling as much as I can.

We were close to landing when I completed my plan and I felt accomplished. So much that I couldn’t wait to get back to put my ideas into effect. The moment we arrived, that changed. Work slipped my mind as the smell of the ocean filled me up and a satisfied feeling crept over me, we were home.

We spent the night at moms catching up with the family and getting ready for carnival. I talk to my family several times a week, but I never notice how much things are changing until I see them.

Rorrey was working on music at the studio. He and Lele were still going strong. They were three years in and so in love with each other. They had an innocent puppy love, but could still teach grown folk a thing or two.

Rajad finally had his first girlfriend so he was at her place. I had yet to meet her, but he sent me some pictures of them. She was beautiful and I've never saw my brother smile so big, so I knew she was good for him.

Mom and dad were also bit by the damn love bug. They kept stealing kisses, so I assumed they were on good terms. It bugged me, but I kept my opinion to myself.

Gran looked happy, but was frailer than the last time I saw her. I noticed Bravo being extra careful with her, as if she were a china doll. Nothing or no one could stop her from wukking up with us girls. She danced as island music blasted through the house until her feet hurt. Mel, Lele, and I wined and gave ourselves a warm up for tomorrow until the sun started to creep up.

Carnival was a blast as always. It came and went so fast. All I remember is wining on whoever was close enough and drinking with Lele as if our lives depended on it. I could always count on her to be my turn up partner. Today was no different and after barfing for the second time since we got to the beach, I had finally taken the edge off.

“See Rob? What I tell ya bout mixin that shit?” Lele cackled. I flipped her off and rolled my eyes at the same time. She hiccuped loud as hell, then threw her head back in laughter. She was laughing so hard, she almost dropped the cup she was holding.

While the waves crashed behind us, Mel, Ella, Le, Nita, and I were all huddled around a bonfire. We were smoking and vibing to Rorrey's latest music, while recuperating from today’s festivities.

“You know I gotta ask you Mel” Nita began with a smirk, after passing up on the blunt. “How’s it feel for ya pokey to be back in business?”

“It feels fuckin fantastic” Mel exclaimed as she proceeded to explain to us that her husband has a magic dick.

“But the best part isn’t even about the sex, Jermaine is a rare breed. He’s so attentive and supportive, things I didn’t even know I wanted in a man, I find in him.”

“Blasted, I need to be celibate” Nita thought aloud.

“That’s what all the hoes are doing now days” I teased, before falling into a laughing fit.

“What dat mean?” Mel asked, tilting her head in confusion.

“I found out yesterday that Chris and Tae are celibate.”

“Wait, you’re back on speaking terms with Chris?” Ella chimed in, finally taking her eyes from her phone since we got here.

“What the fuck? When did this happen and why?” Lele snapped, demanding answers. I gave them the quick version of how we got back in good graces, but Lele still wasn’t buying it.

“Look bitch, I know ya got history with him and all, but don’t you wanna try something new? Someone that ain’t horning when you ain’-”

“Chill! We’re friends”

“Don’t listen to dem Robbie, and don’t explain yourself. You can’t help who you love. If you think he’s changed and ya’ll wanna try again, do it . Fuck everybody’s opinions” Ella condoned.

“But watch it from dey” Nita yelled. “You just now gettin back to yourself, be careful.

“Everything ‘bout that situation woke my ass up from lala land. Ya’ll don’t have to worry about me. I will never be that dumb or naïve again. ” I reassured them, and I meant it. Lele was still skeptical, and even though Mel kept quiet, I knew she was too.

Still, I meant what I said. After all I’ve been through, I’ll always be on my toes and I refuse to tolerate any bullshit. My happiness is priority and any man that doesn’t agree and put forth the effort to prove it, isn’t worth my time.

As we sat in silence passing the blunt, my mind couldn’t help but wonder. I wondered if hanging out with Chris was a mistake. I knew where I wanted it to lead, but what if he were playing games with me once again. He agreed to be celibate for another woman, but couldn’t keep it in his pants for me. The thought of that made me jealous, but I can’t deny that I’m happy to see growth in him all at the same time.

“Don’t think about it too much” Mel uttered, pulling me out of my own mind. “Let it go. Don’t fight it, don’t stress. Whatever happens, happens.”

"I needed to hear that" I nodded in agreement, realizing she was right.

"I got ya back" she stated, throwing her arm around my shoulders.It wasn’t long before Lele followed suit, then the other girls. Before I knew it, we were all huddled on the ground in laughter with sand in our hair and clothes. We were in our happy place.

#robyn rihanna fenty #chris brown #ff #fanfic #fanfiction

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fullvoidmoon · 6 years

Text

Our Little Thorin

Pairing/s: Thorin x wife!reader

Setting/Timeline: Few years after BoTFA, Durins live!AU

Warning(s)/Genre(s): Fluff

Word Count: 1,521

The Hobbit, The Durins, Bilbo Baggins, and Any of the Company © J.R.R. Tolkien The Hobbit films and Tauriel(mentioned) © Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Warner Bros., Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and New Line Cinema Context © me

Based on my imagine.

A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to all! (I hope I didn’t screw this one up XD) And I’m sorry for overdoing this :P

The Hobbit tag list: @igotanaddixon @fizzy-custard@fromthedeskoftheraven @deepestfirefun @evyiione @mrs-thorin-oakenshield @life-is-righteous @sdavid09 @dreamsofrivendell@epicallychrissy @petals-overdaisies @aspiringtranslator

Thorin II Oakenshield tag list: @fab-notfat @patanghill17

Permanent tag list: @imagines-for-multiple-fandoms @thepoet1975@cd1242 @thegreyberet

Masterlist: HERE

Never have you been so nervous in your life.

Probably except when you were crowned as Queen of Durin’s folk. Or maybe it is the hormones that make you think of the unnecessary things.

“You need to calm down namad(sister),” Dis lightly reprimands as you pace around her living quarters, holding her own chuckles ,“you are wearing down my the carpet, and stress is not good for the young one in your belly.”

Exhilaration and surprise became the understatement of the year when Oin told you of your pregnancy. Though you have been feeling off and quite ill in your first month, the possibility never crossed your mind; accepting the fact it will be a hard time for both you and Thorin to conceive due to his age and the stress your duties as King and Queen entails.

But deep down you haven’t given up hope. You knew of your husband’s wish of having a family of his own one day and the joy of seeing his children growing up to be the best they can be. Even if your stubborn King would tell you it doesn’t matter if both of you will be blessed with children, your positivity and belief never diminish.

“I am sorry Dis,” you sigh, frustrated of how ridiculous you are for fretting over such trivial thing, “but, what if our plans will not go as it should?”

And you were indeed blessed by Mahal, and on Durin’s Day no less, with one of the most wonderful gift a woman could ever receive; the gift of having a growing child in one’s womb and of giving the chance to a mother.

“It will go as it should,” Dis reassures, approaching you with surety evident in her azure eyes, “you have been planning this since the day after Durin’s Day. And you, of all people that I have the privilege of knowing, are one of the very best at planning and executing big surprises.”

You couldn’t help but smile at your sister-in-law. Truly you are very grateful of having such headstrong and compassionate dwarrowdam at your side, and you know you will always have her through thick and thin.

“Just make sure I will be their godmother,” Dis cheekily winks as she gives your growing belly at teasing pat, “I helped you with the preparations you needed after all.”

And you can’t wait to bring the good news to everyone, especially to your unsuspecting husband.

-----

Never has Erebor witnessed such festivity in all its years of reign as the most powerful Dwarven kingdom in all of Middle Earth.

Its citizens love any kind of celebration as long as food, music, and booze are abundant, the children of Durin never thought of having such grand festivity in the Yule much like what they have on Durin’s Day.

But because of their love and adoration for their Queen, they now celebrate it much like how they would want to celebrate their New Year; Erebor’s Great Hall packed with dwarves, men, and elves, the banquet table filled with food of all kinds, barrels and caskets overflowing with wine and ale, and music and laughter could be heard in all corners of the gigantic room as gifts and well wishes are exchanged between attendants.

“There is a grand celebration at the Great Hall already,” Thorin jests as he is being dragged by Fili and Kili away from the hundreds of attendants, “why have a separate one when you could have it with the rest of our people?”

“Though we would love to fill you in Uncle,” Fili answers, his smile never seizes even if he is receiving death glares from Thorin, “we do not know what is really happening.”

“We were only instructed by amad to drag you away from the Great Hall and to come with us,” Kili added before dodging Thorin’s hand as it attempted to give him a hard wack on the head, “and there’s no need to be so violent, you know.”

“You are snickering the whole time Kili,” Thorin hisses, certainly feeling uneasy as he could see the glint in both his nephews’ eyes that he knows too well what it implies, “and you, Fili, definitely know something.”

“I swear I do not!” The older prince exclaims, “amad never even said a single word of what this is all about.”

Thorin is about to give both princes another stern word, or give them a death glare that will certainly bring nightmares for the rest of their days, when they arrive at one of the conference rooms located in the Royal Wing. Laughter and music could be heard from the inside and Thorin couldn’t help but recognize each voices of the Company.

“Thorin! Finally you’ve arrived,” exclaims Bilbo after opening the doors for the three Durins to come in, “we thought you would never come.”

“Or ye’ got lost, again,” Dwalin adds, earning a huge laughter from the rest of the Company.

“Master Baggins, you are here,” The Dwarven King asks as he throws a boot at his snickering cousin, his irritation towards his nephews are replaced by surprise and delight, “and why have you not informed me you are to come here?”

“(Y/N) actually planned this reunion a year ago,” Bilbo gives out a hearty laugh as he points at (Y/N)’s direction, looking more radiant and beautiful in a simple royal blue gown as she helps Bombur and Tauriel set out more food, “she invited me to come over, since she thought of having this gathering on the Yule season.”

Never would Thorin expect for his wife, his One, to have everything planned in just one year. But he knows of her capabilities as one of the most excellent plan-makers, witnessing it first hand during the Quest and at their charge towards Ravenhill, saving his and his nephews’ lives.

And such quality is one of the few things that made, and still makes him, fall madly in love with his Queen.

“Good! My insufferable brother and my rambunctious sons are finally here,” Dis exclaims, making Thorin break his reverie and earning another round of laughter from the company.

“Amad,” Fili and Kili both jest at the same time, “we are not rambunctious!”

“Settle down now and let us all eat,” the Lady of Erebor adds, rolling her eyes as she ignores her sons’ pouting lips and puppy eyes, “the food will get cold, and I do not want to disappoint dear Bombur, my future daughter-in-law, and the lady of the night.”

(Y/N) couldn’t fight the heat spreading across her cheeks, looking flushed as she shyly smiles at each member of the Company. Though she is Queen, and her presence is as much needed as Thorin’s in every meetings and gatherings, she will never get use to receiving a lot of attention for the rest of her days.

And Thorin’s endearing but teasing smirk doesn’t help ease her embarrassment one bit.

“You are adorable, my wife,” he mouths, taking a seat at the head of the table and giving her a playful wink.

“Shut it,” she bites back, chuckling at how silly her husband is acting.

‘If only he knows what’s in store for him,’ (Y/N) couldn’t help but think as she places a hand on her still flat stomach. When suddenly a small wave of realization comes rushing into her as she subtly looks at Dis, who in turn gives her a secretive smile; encouraging (Y/N) to do what she planned to do for the night.

“Thank you all for giving your time to attend this small gathering,” (Y/N) says, making everyone’s attention turn to her, “I never thought this will even be possible.”

“Considering our Master Hobbit here lives at the far end of Middle Earth,” Gloin grumbles, earning him a chuckle from those nearest to him,“me wee lad had been wanting to meet ‘cha, ‘ye know.”

“Little Gimli now has the chance, brother,” Oin replies before looking back at (Y/N), knowing full well what his latest patient and Queen plans, “and I believe there is something you would want to say, your Majesty?”

And that certainly earns her curious but very inquisitive glances from these dwarves she calls family, especially the bluest of all blue hues that stands out from the rest.

“Yes, dear Oin,” she replies, her hand now rubbing comforting circles on her belly, “for, I believe, this is the perfect opportunity for me to give you all such wonderful news.”

Never had (Y/N) thought of experiencing such waves of emotions all in one night; emotions filled with joy, surprise, and excitement as she looks onto every member of the Company giving both her and Thorin congratulations and well wishes.

For her wish of giving Thorin a chance to make his dreams come true.

And seeing her husband, her King, and the love of her life, the happiest of all as he showers her with kisses and hugs; his eyes filled with happy tears and giving her words of endearment in her ears makes everything she did for the night to be merry worth it.

“I can’t wait for you to meet our little Thorin.”

#FVMfanfics #FVM thorin fanfics #FVM the company of thorin fanfics #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #thorin imagine #thorin x reader #FVM christmas special

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saltbaek · 7 years

Text

Intimate Kitchen

Originally posted by exoturnback

Genre: Fluff (boyfriend!Baekhyun)

Word count: 2.2k+

Remarks: My very first one shot as saltbaek! The original piece was only around 1k written several years ago for my friend before I revamped the whole thing and lengthened it a few days ago. Pretty cliche but I thought of sharing it with you guys something longer since I’ve only written several drabbles so far! Hope you guys like it! ( ˘ ³˘)♥

As the sun rises, rays of sunlight pierced through the curtains, slightly lighting up the room in a golden yellow shade which gives out a sort of romantic feel. Groaning in your sleep, you shuffled around on the bed and tried to touch the area next to you, feeling no warmth much to your disappointment. You lazily opened one of your eyes in a frown to peek at the space beside you. Empty. You tried looking around the room. No sight of your sweetheart. You even tried to sit up sleepily and perked your ears to listen to any sound of him around in the apartment but the only thing you hear is the sigh that left your lips. You’re too lazy to wake up still, so you snaked your hand to your phone on the bedside table to check whether if he left you a message. As if on cue, your phone vibrates and lights up, signaling a message notification, from the love of your life. You grinned at his timing and giggled as you read the message.

Good morning my big baby ;) I went out with Lay to have some morning tea! Will be back so soon before you even start missing me!! ^^ Love, your Hyunnie.

You can't help but to smile even wider at the message. Even with small gestures like these, he is able to make your heart flutter. The amount of things that Baekhyun can do to you, like really. You look at the time on your phone before putting it down onto the bedside table again. It’s only 9:30 in the morning. The birds are chirping outside and you briefly wished that you were as cheerful and motivated in the morning. You feel like a piece of steel and the bed is a really, really strong magnet. You’re not tired, just lazy because the bed just felt so comfortable, the chirping birds outside like an ASMR, the refreshing morning breeze setting your room in the right temperature to go back to sleep. The only thing that can make your morning even more amazing and perfect is the supposedly warmth beside you, provided by your Baekhyun who and which you got so used to. The space beside you felt so empty currently. You miss him already. He probably decide not to wake you up this morning because of how late you stayed up last night to finish your work. Usually when you wake up from your slumber, especially on weekends, you will be met with a pair of brown, warm eyes which will turn into little crescents upon your sleepy gaze courtesy to the huge boyish grin on Baekhyun’s face. Determined to start the day (and stop being a lazy ass), you got up and walked to the toilet to start your day. After brushing your teeth, washing your face and even taking a shower, you dried your hair and tied them into a messy bun.

You put on one of Baekhyun’s Supreme hoodie, embracing his scent. It is so oversized for you to the point that it stretches down to just above your knee. You looked into the mirror with a satisfied face, turning around after successfully donning the hoodie on. Wearing his clothes is definitely one of your favourite habit(?) or whatever you call it. Not like your boyfriend minded anyway. In fact, he personally thinks that you looked better (he called you hot while biting his lips so) in his clothes than him. Cheesy bastard. Deciding to make a light scrumptious breakfast of ham and cheese omelette for the both of you, you padded slowly into the kitchen to prepare the ingredients. You’re about to start cutting the ham when you heard the door beep.

“Honey, I’m home!!” hollered Baekhyun from the entrance shamelessly. God, you sure hope your neighbors aren’t planning on murdering your loud and obnoxious man. But then again they seem pretty in love with your man either, if the heart eyes from the aunties aren’t telling enough. Sometimes, they even bring him extra side dishes. Who can you blame though? Baekhyun is naturally a sweet talker, endearing, attractive and his whole being basically just screams ‘LOVE ME!!!’ to be honest at the very least. “Me too, ho- Ooof!” Yixing hollered after Baekhyun without missing a beat. Or at least, tried to. He almost succeeded though, until your man elbowed him in the ribs, sending him one of the nastiest glares ever that says something along the lines of “I dare you to ‘honey’ her.” Yixing grimaced in pain, groaning while rubbing the sore spot and muttered ‘possessive bastard’ under his breath. He looked like a kicked puppy in pain especially with the pout evident on his face. Hearing how chaotic the scene is at the entrance, do you really want to know what happened? You asked yourself and nope, never mind. You’re too occupied with preparing the ingredients so you just rolled your eyes and shook your head a little, mumbling a half-hearted ‘welcome back, baby’ to acknowledge them. You know you won’t be left alone anyway.

You’re right when Baekhyun wrapped his arms around you firmly from behind, back hugging you amidst of cutting the ingredients. He dipped his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent before sending butterfly kisses all over your neck and finally placing a loving big, loud smooch on your cheek. It’s ticklish, so you tilted you head a little, giggling. “Baek, you’re distracting me.” you whined, trying to pull an annoyed face even if you’re having a hard time with all the little kisses he constantly places here and there. “And you smell so nice.” Baekhyun grinned, lips still not leaving your skin. “Anyway, was that Yixing earlier?” you ignored his remark, trying to change the topic. “Awwww, isn’t my baby so smart? Yeah, he’s just here to lend the toilet by the way.” he praised you, sending you even more kisses, not even bothering to explain more. Seriously though, aren’t his lips tired? Especially from all the talking and kissing? Not that you’re complaining, really, just genuine curiosity.

“Ewwww!!! My eyes!!! Shit, I need a new pair!!!” Yixing shrieked all of a sudden, hand flying to cover his eyes, having witnessed the Baekhyun’s PDA towards you after he’s done using the toilet. Baekhyun closed his eyes in aggravation. Of all timings, that guy had to cockblock now. He secretly contemplated whether punching him in the face or kicking him in the ass would be better. Before he get to reach a final decision, Yixing spoke up first (thank god).

“Okay, okay, chill bro, I am leaving now alright! Sheesh! Greasy hot tempered ass.” he said, backing away, both arms raised in defeat, the last sentence said in a significantly lower volume to avoid immediate assault from the your (aggressive) man. “See ya! And you too, sweetie” he waved to his friend and you before getting pushed out of the apartment by your boyfriend. Said man just slammed the door in his face after muttering a rushed bye before heading into the kitchen to where you are again. Yixing snickers behind the door, deeming a success in annoying Byun Baekhyun. You can almost imagine him pumping his fist in the air. You’re pretty sure Yixing’s feelings are not hurt in any way though. They’re really great friends who goes years back so if anyone were to understand Baekhyun as much as you, it would be the guys, Yixing included. They know how protective (and clingy) he is over you and they never, I repeat, never, miss any opportunity they can get to annoy him. He kind of deserve it though considering how annoying he is himself anyway. You’ll be the first candidate to live to tell the tales. At least he’s adorable. In meantime, you’re not sure whether your boyfriend is a human or a leech, octopus even, seeing as he is wrapping his arms around your waist as soon as he is close enough.

“That wasn’t very nice, Baek” you chastised before turning your head and kissed his cheek as he hummed in response.

“You can’t deny he didn’t deserve it.” he said, shrugging with a smile so innocent you temporarily forgot about what you were actually reprimanding him for. How dare he use this against you when he know full well how effective is it? Wait, no, he obviously used this because he knows how effective it is. Cunning as hell. He returned your kiss at the side of your lips, making you grin, the both of you staying in the back hugging position while you’re still trying to focus on cutting your ham. Of course, your ever attention demanding boyfriend couldn’t just stand still or quietly. Wanting him to do both is close to impossible. Quiet? Still? Baekhyun? Those 3 words should not and cannot be in the same sentence. Nope.

“Stop cutting me, it hurts.” he pouted as he faked pain, putting a hand over his heart to be more dramatic. The cogs in your brain are turning and you rolled your eyes when you understood what he meant.

“Wow, Baek, that joke is as old as you. Since when did you become a ham instead of bacon? I didn’t allow this transformation. I also wasn’t notified.” you inquired, a brow raising. He smiled sheepishly, grabbing your wrist, making you drop the knife on the counter and turned you around gently. He placed your hands on his chest before wrapping his around your back. It’s cheesy but he thinks the both of you fits perfectly like puzzle pieces. His gaze on you is intense, full of adoration and love for you, your gaze towards him too, is nothing less. The both of you held the eye contact, spotting shit eating grins on both faces. If any of the guys were here you will probably hear a loud “Kiss already!” or “Get a room!” or even something along the R-rated lines that should be buried under the carpet. That is until you saw a glint of mischief in Baekhyun’s eyes.

“Actually, maybe I’m a piece of cheese, or butter and because you’re so hot, I lost count of how many times I’ve melted for you.” he teased. Uhm, what the absolute flying hell did you just hear? Not the first time he had rendered you speechless but his level is increasing in a pretty rapid pace. Instead of popping his bubble like you usually do, you decided to play along today. You smirked, eyes sparkling the same mischievousness but Baekhyun’s glint in the eyes is turning confused, nervous even.

“No, don’t you dar- aahhh!” he almost finish his statement before breaking into strings of melodious laughter, accompanied by your evil laugh (not sorry). Baekhyun is not that ticklish, but spending so much time with him means you have that much of time to find out all his weak spots. You quickly dashed for the living room after the assault, running for your life with your munchkins legs (as he like to call you). Needless to say you’re not able to get that far until he catches up with you, locking you in his grip of love. You tried flailing your arms or reaching for his weak spots in an attempt to escape only to fail miserably because he rendered you helpless as he caught both of your wrists in his grasp firmly. You make a mental note to distract him from going to gym and stuff him with lots of food after this. Going to the gym yourself is totally out of the list because you’re a lazy ass and that’s too much hard work. Yikes. He easily swung you over his shoulder, carrying you into the bedroom before laying you down onto the bed gently. He landed beside you with a soft thud, both of you chuckling from the little battle the both of you had earlier. He turned to his side to face you with a grin on his face, eyes crinkling. You do the same after catching up your breath.

“I think we should continue where we stopped last night. Shall we, kitten?” Baekhyun asked suggestively, wiggling his brows. The shade of red on your cheeks deepened while his smile widened. You rolled over, laying on his chest, looking at him with a grin, head slightly tilted. He met your gaze, eyes holding so much affection for you. He crinkled his nose and leaned closer to you giving you an eskimo kiss, rubbing the tip of his nose on yours before pecking your lips.

“Stop that, you’re so cute.” he chuckled. At the sound of his quiet laughter, you followed suit. He take this opportunity to flip you over before sprinkling your face with lots of kisses, each one firmer and louder than the previous smooch. Dragging the trail of kisses around your face and ending it on your lips. Once. Twice. Thrice. And the fourth time, his tongue swiped your bottom lip, asking for the entrance that you granted without hesitation. The innocent pecks became a passionate lip locking session, tongues dancing together as one. He pulled back reluctantly after sensing that you’re out of breath, eyes dilated.

“I love you so much, Baek.” you mumbled on his sweet lips, sighing, hands tugging his thick brown locks.

“And me, you, my love.” he replied. And the next time they express their love towards each other, it is not through words but action. And you know, with such good morning, nothing will go wrong.

Except your abandoned ham. Oh no.

#im crying idk wtf is this i tried i swear??#im also laughing bc my language 2343290 years ago is so childish and funny #HAHAHAHAH I HAD FUN DOING THIS THOUGH #hope u guys like it!!!!#baekhyun #fluff #oneshots #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fanfic #boyfriend!baekhyun #boyfriend baekhyun #exo #exo scenario

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spinji · 7 years

Text

Human Boyfriend 101 Chapter 5:

A gift can be something to break the ice. But without an understanding of your lover it is plenty disastrous

Dipper stared out the window of the gift shop as he swept the dusty floor. After Bill’s little visit he immediately told his great uncle, Stanford. This greatly shocked and concerned him and he took protective measures before he could even unpack his bags from being away at sea. It was then that Dipper was thankful for the extra anti-weirdness shield materials Ford had carefully stored in case of a similar threat. Or, in this case, the exact same one.

They just barely had enough unicorn hair to trace the edge of the shack, something that had made Dipper a bit tense as the pile grew thinner while they applied it. From what he heard about the ordeal to get the hair from Mable, he’d rather not have anyone endure that again. A cruel scam, illegal trafficking, a break in, and a bloody fist fight. Although Dipper had considered part of that to be his sister’s imagination going crazy, the biggest similarity between her and Gravity Falls is no one knew what they would throw at you next, both figuratively and literally.

“Head’s up!” Dipper was knocked to the floor as a surprisingly dense pink yarn ball hit him square in the face. “Oops, I was supposed to catch that. Sorry dude.” Soos chuckled, picking up the ball and chucking it back to Mabel as more balls of yarn began to fly.

Dipper snickered and rolled his eyes, though decided not to get involved in their battle. He went back to sweeping as an excuse to stare the floor. He heard Stan quickly scold Mabel and Soos before having them clean up the yarn. Soon enough Dipper was alone with nothing but his chores and his thoughts.

WHAM!

The boy jumped as he heard something hit the screen door near him. He turned around, holding the broom in front of him as if it would serve as a functioning weapon for whatever was outside. He didn’t hear anything moving around, and were there...flower petals caught in the screen? Dipper lowered his broom and approached the door, plucking the smooth violet petal from the ripped and twisted screen.

He opened the door, now more curious than fearful. He groaned. “Mabel!” a large bouquet of flowers rested on the doorstep, a mix of blue, indigo, and bright yellow flowers were piled into a soft light blue silk, a card stuck to the fabric.

Mabel poked her head around the corner with a grin. “What’s up bro-bro?” Dipper sighed and picked up the flowers. “You got present from someone.” Mabel gasped excitedly and swiped the flowers from his hands. “Did you already get another boyfriend? Or...oh god please tell me that isn’t from Gideon.” The more he thought about that the more the bouquet seemed to smell of his cologne. “Nah, he’s pretty much over me.” Mabel inspected the flowers curiously before pulling the card free of the rest of the gift.

“Well who is it?” Dipper asked, tilting his head a bit. Mabel only gave his brother a wide smirk. “Oh I don’t think this is for me Dipper.”

Dipper’s eyebrow perked up higher as Mabel waved the card in his face. There were no words, just a little, blue, pine tree image inside. “Ooh~ looks like someone has a secret admirer!” Dipper scoffed.

“What? That’s just a picture of a tree, that doesn’t prove-”

“Bap!” Mabel stuck the card to Dipper’s hat, right over the original pine tree logo. Dipper sighed in defeat, blushing slightly. “So, someone actually likes me??”

“That’s what an admirer does bro. Falls head over heels for you!” Dipper smiled softly and took back the flowers. “Huh...an admirer...sounds kinda nice…” As Dipper reveled in the fantasy that a beautiful girl was shyly leaving flowers at his doorstep a hiss came from the bouquet.

Dipper looked into the dark cracks between the flowers in the arrangement before a large black snake lunged out of the flowers. Dipper screamed and held the flowers and hissing snake away from his face. Mabel yelped and jumped away as large black spiders swarmed Dipper’s arms. The boy flailed and panicked, crashing into the wall before finally managing to throw the flowers out the door and frantically shake off the spiders.

“What the hell was that?!”

Bill peeked out of the bushes with a disappointed frown, why did he throw it away? That flower arrangement was beautiful! Beast told him humans liked flowers. Then again leaving an arrangement for his human didn’t work out so well either. You know, what does that guy know anyway! Bill huffed and got up, strolling toward the main part of town.

Bill stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts as he wandered down the town’s sidewalk. He wasn’t afraid of being caught as the demon monster that traumatised just about everyone last summer, these people were idiots. Everyone on the planet was, even Pine Tree!

“...but he’s...my idiot…” he murmured to himself, a faint blush on his stupid human cheeks. Why did this vessel have to show so much emotion, it sucks!

He brushed past the window of a jewelry store that was closing for the day, almost walking past entirely until a faint sparkle caught his eye, he turned his head back to the window, in the display a beautiful bright blue pin in the shape of a pine tree. The low summer sun caught it perfectly, leaving small blue dots reflecting off around the display. The gold backing shined magnificently and it certainly looked pricey. It was perfect! Pine Tree would love this!

Bill gave the gem a greedy smirk and sauntered off before anyone could notice he’d been standing there. He’d be coming back for that one.

“Piiine Treeeeee” Dipper could hear him whining and tapping on the shield. Dipper huffed and ignored him, somehow the demon knew he was alone and Ford was way down in the basement where his tapping couldn't be heard.

After a few more taps the shield retaliated and made Bill yelp as a shock went through his body. “Oww!” the demon sucked on his stinging finger pitifully and muttered a few latin curse words to himself before raising his voice again. “Pine Tree come out. I just wanna talk kid.”

Dipper spared him a glance out of curiosity. His vessel was dirty and ragged, hair greasy and sticking up in odd ways and an arm was caked in dried blood. It had been several days since he first got this body and clearly Bill hadn't considered bathing during any of them. The vessel had grown extremely thin as well. Either Bill was only finding scarce amount of food or he kept forgetting humans need to eat to live.

Bill pulled a small box out of his shorts pocket and lightly tossed it into the weirdness barrier. It passed through with no resistance and landed in the grass near the gift shop’s entrance. Dipper raised a cautious eyebrow at the box from inside before look back to Bill. He gave an encouraging and eager nod and motioned for Dipper to retrieve the box.

The boy gave him a deadpanned look in return. “If you don’t get out of here I’m getting Ford.” Dipper warned. The demon took this as sign to leave before he got caught by someone who would happily run out and kill him.

Dipper huffed and got up from his spot at the counter, deciding to retreat to a room devoid of windows to keep Bill from pestering him.

As he turned to go sit in the living room curiosity pricked at his brain. What the heck did Bill just toss into the yard? Something to trap him? Something else to rip the dimensional barrier? He should at least give it to Ford in case it’s dangerous. Wow, he is really good at reasoning with himself.

Dipper turned on his heel ignoring Mabel and Soos watching the local news (something about someone smashing the window of a jewelry shop last night) and went back to the screen door near the discarded box, eyeing it suspiciously. He couldn’t see Bill anywhere, hopefully he ran off far enough that he wasn’t spying on Dipper through the bushes. He kept his mind off the thought just enough to grab the box and go back inside.

It was smaller than he thought, just a simple yellow ring box with a slick black ribbon tied around it. What kind of horrifying interdimensional creation did he cram into this thing? Dipper’s fingers trembled slightly as he tried to peek open the box. He strained his eyes to try and see inside it.

“Hey Dipper!” Dipper yelped and closed the box, hiding it behind his back. “Whatcha got there?” Mabel cocked her head and attempted to see the little box.

“Uh...it’s nothing.”

Mabel peeked over his shoulder with a sly grin. “I spy a jewelry box! Is it for a girl? Do you have another crush?!”

“W-what?! No!!” Dipper held the box out to keep if out of her grip as Mabel made a motion to grab it. Mabel hooked her leg around her brother’s ankle and tripped him. Dipper’s hat flew off his head as he hit the floor of the gift shop with a thud. Mabel stepped past the squirming limbs of the boy and grabbed the box with a victorious laugh.

Dipper rolled to his stomach and frantically reached to trip her up but she was too far away by then. “Mabel don’t open it!” Dipper cried out. Mabel teasingly cracked the box open before flinging it open fully. Dipper shielded his face on instinct but all that came was a surprised gasp from his sister.

“Whoa! Where’d you get the cash for this?!”

Dipper looked up curiously, shouldn’t that box be spewing nightmares right now? Mabel picked up something sparkly out of the box with amazement. A thin, gold, pine tree-shaped pin rested in her hand, one side of it completely decorated with bright blue jewels. “It’s just a pin?” Dipper raised an eyebrow.

“Just a pin?! This looks like it costs more than the shack!” Mabel exclaimed.

“Hold on give me that.” Dipped stood up and plucked the pin out of her hands. He spun it between his fingers and looked at it from every angle.

“Well you better tell me who this mystery girl is soon but I’ll leave you alone...for now.” Mabel tossed the box back to him and left the room.

“Huh, doesn't look like any kind of charm or monster. The barrier wouldn't let it pass through if it was so that makes sense.” Dipper muttered to himself. “But then...why give it to me if it wouldn't do anything?”

Dipper traced his finger along the edge of the shape. He was a bit disturbed the day he realized the pine tree symbol on his hat is just two triangles and a stick. Triangles...they’re his gateway into this world, like a window of some kind. That’s what Ford told him. Draw an eye on a triangle and he can see through it, no matter the size or materials it’s made of. Soon enough Dipper could see the gems embedded on the top half of the pine tree forming an oval shape. His eyes traced the shape before they narrowed in disgust at the sparkling pin.

Dipper adjusted it in his hand so the eye was covered by his palm before going up to the roof through the secret ladder in the gift shop. A gust of cold evening wind hit his face as he stepped out into the dim sunlight. He wound up his arm before throwing the pin as far as it could, faintly hearing it hit a tree but not being able to see it anymore. Dipper let out a huff and drop kicked the box off the roof as well. “Good riddance…”

Bill held back a yelp when the sharp point on the tip of the pin hit the skull of his vessel. He huffed in annoyance and glared at the pin, now resting on the grass behind him. He leaned over and flicked it deeper into the forest with a groan. “What went wrong? This is what humans like right? Ugh, I told that branch head this was a stupid idea...” He sighed and tucked his legs close to his chest. Simple didn’t work, expensive didn’t work. What else could he do? He wasn’t about to run to Beast begging for more advice. Alright, time to get serious. Pine Tree wouldn’t be able to resist this one!

The demon looked over his new gift, he’d really outdone himself this time! But it was so delicate, he couldn’t just chuck it past the bubble without it breaking. Getting inside wasn’t an option at this point, even if he could break the barrier Ford would be upstairs with a gun (or twenty) before he could say a word to Dipper. He’d have to… His mouth formed into a wide grin when he heard the front door open.

Mabel ran outside with a joyful woop and a water gun in hand, Dipper following close behind with his own weapon and a bucket of water balloons.

Bill watched them fight off the hot summer sun with their water fight, grabbing the tail of a squirrel that was inching up a tree. It shrieked as Bill forced out what little consciousness it had, his human form going limp for the moment as the squirrel leaped out into the open.

The water fight was getting more intense and Dipper had just shifted outside the protection bubble. The squirrel scurried to him, leaping onto his back and grabbing the water pistol from his arms. “Hey!” Dipper yelled and attempted to chase the squirrel who was carrying his toy into the woods. He winced at the twigs and rocks hitting his bare feet but kept after the animal.

It tripped on the large item it was attempting to carry and slumped to the ground, laying completely still. Was it...dead..? Dipper gave the suddenly still animal a disturbed look before slowly reaching to grab the toy.

The leaves of a bush rustled out of the corner of his eye and he bolted straight up, clutching the water gun tight enough to turn his knuckles white. A hand shot out of the brush and grabbed his arm, yanking him deeper into the woods. Dipper screamed and attempted to struggle before he was pushed up to a tree.

Hanging from it was an elaborate design in the shape of a heart, the middle filled in with small triangles. But…wait are those bones?! Dipper let out a shocked and disgusted yelp, looking closer the bones on the outside had engraved codes on them and the whole thing was yelp together with unidentifiable strings of flesh.

“Like it Pine Tree?” Bill grinned happily, standing behind him. Dipper whipped around, eyes wide and angry. “What the hell Bill?!”

“All those cliche human gifts weren’t working out so I thought I’d give you something a bit more...personal.” Dipper gave him a horrified look.

“Presents? Wait, the bouquet of spiders was you too?!”

“Surprise!” Bill chirped. Dipper glared at him. “Look I don’t know what you’re trying to pull demon but I’m not falling for it. You can’t trick me anymore!”

Bill’s wide grin faltered.

“I’m not going to bother even looking at anything else you throw pass the barrier. I know you’re planning something and I don’t even want to TOUCH whatever that is!”

“Aw don’t be like that Pine Tree. I worked so hard on it.” Dipper glared and shot him in the face with a blast of the water gun. The demon coughed and sputtered as the boy shimmied past the bush and walked away. “If you come near the shack again I’m letting Ford deal with you.”

Bill let his more cheerful expression sink as Dipper left, he pushed his wet bangs out of his face and lightly kicked at the dirt. “Stupid human…”

Well Bill knows jack shit about gifts. It’s not the object itself, it’s who is giving the gift. And if it’s Bill Cipher giving the gift no one is ever going to take it.

Got a question? The ask box is at your mercy! Follow the blog for more HB101 and other nonsense!

Chapter 4 <===> Chapter 6 (coming soon)

#fanfiction #human boyfriend 101 #hb101 #billdip #bill cipher #dipper pines #crossover #poetree #beast x wirt #otgw wirt #otgw beast #gravity falls #Over the Garden Wall #star vs the forces of evil #tomco #marco diaz #tom lucitor #shipping

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