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#i have a meeting at 10:30 with the owner of the store i work at so that i can get my job back
mysticficti0n · 3 months
Note
hey girlie I have a question!
sooo I rlly rlly love ur writing and literally I read most ur stuff every night 🤭 but I was wondering maybe if you could write one about Colby Brock.... and just any idea but like I rlly want to see what you could do
from
Bun
I do not mind one bit! I grew up watching Sam and Colby so ofc!! For this I am gonna make up a place because I feel like it heheheh but this is my first Colby fic so don't judge pretty please <3 Ive tried my best and checked for mistakes and hopefully there's none (or very little)
Haunted house
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
warnings- ColbyBrockxFem/Reader, swearing, mentions of death, death of children, fire, hanging, fluff/teasing, Y/H/T= your home town, smut!! kissing, smut, P in V, no protection,
words- 10k (sorry ☹︎)
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"sooooo are you gonna come tomorrow?" Sam asked me over the phone, it's Halloween tomorrow and he, Colby and some friends had been working really hard the whole of October and decided on the 31st they wanted to do a haunted house sleepover, and this house was in the middle of fucking nowhere, 4 hours away, and miles from the nearest town "because we need to leave like... 9am ish tomorrow to get there in time to meet the owners" I waited a few seconds mentally reviewing my life and really asking myself I wanted to do this
"umm- yeah okay" I agreed and already regretted it "I'll walk to yours and be there for like 8-8:30?" Sam made a noise as if he was talking to someone else then made a huh sound to me "I said I'll walk to yours-"
"ohh- Colby said he can grab you but you'll have to go to the store with him"
"okay no problem, what time though?" Sam said 8am so I set my alarm for 6:30, enough time for a shower, get ready, pack then get in the car with Colby, our conversation continued until another voice interrupted telling the boy he needs to get ready "alright then, see you tomorrow"
"Bye-Bye" he sung and the phone cut. Tomorrow was about to be very interesting...
BEEP BEEP BEEP
I opened my eyes to find my room dark, and my phone reading 6:30am "ughhh" I groaned rolling out the warm covers and slowly made my way into my bathroom, I switched the light on and then put the shower on, turning the heat to the warmest it could be, sleepily I pulled my clothes off and jumped into the shower humming as the water washed over my skin. My morning went quick, at one point it was 7am and I need to still pack and now its 8am and my front door is being knocked because Colby is already here "shit shit shit" I chanted quickly stuffing chargers, torches, batteries and whatever else I could quickly grab before I sprinted to the door "morning!" I panted
"good morning, you okay?" he laughed putting a hand on my shoulder
"fi-fine yeah" I smiled standing to look at him properly "you good?" he nodded walking in "I've just gotta put a few last things in my bag, wanna come sit in my room?"
"oooh" he cooed, I slapped his arm as we made our way to my room, he walked in and quickly jumped onto the bed that was freshly made and crumpled the sheets which I made a face to, a cheeky smirk painted the tatted mans face as he shuffled creating a larger mess "you excited?"
"oh yeah- cant wait" I sarcastically answered grabbing my card "how like- bad is it?" I asked which I probably shouldn't have with the wide smile that crept onto the mans face
"well its known to have had 6 people hang themselves in the attic, two of those were children like 10 years old" my stomach sank, eyes widened "i'm kidding! only one 10 year old was hung" I sighed again regretting agreeing to going to this place and mentally slapping myself
"you're not helping the nerves I have right now" he laughed lying himself back, grabbing a pillow to go under his head "what are you grabbing from the shop?"
"water, snacks, any like little bits we need, plus were not filming it so we don't need much, oh and Amanda is coming, you guys will get on great" I smiled, I had seen Amanda in a few videos with the guys before and she seems really fun and interesting to work with as she's a medium
"okay well I'm ready now" with a breath he stood, fixing my bed and giving the pillow a slap to make it 'comfy', I pulled my little suitcase of the bed and onto the floor to follow me
"you'll love It once were there" Colby spoke grabbing my bag off me, carrying it down the stairs and walked to his car to put it in his trunk as I locked my door
"I've been told that one to many times" we shared a look before a laugh spilled from both of us
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
The shopping was done, some water, crisps, and some lollipops, I sat myself in the front and waited patiently for Colby to get back in "oh another thing- one of the spirits at this place has a thing for touching girls backs and leaving like little bruises"
"great! gonna get molested by a ghost man" I grinned sarcastically looking to the dark haired boy "as long as I don't get like pushed down stairs or something I'm good-ish"
"well-"
"ugh" Colby laughed starting the car, sending me a quick smirk before we drove back to his house. It was a quiet drive, only the radio playing some songs, and the noises of traffic around us, It was defiantly the calm before the storm tonight.
We arrived at the house and went inside, I saw Sam and a blonde sat on the sofa talking but quickly stopping as we entered "Ayyyy she's here!" the man called holding his hands in the air "Amanda this is Y/n, Y/n this is Amanda" I looked to the girl
"hey how are you!" she asked sending me a warm smile, she was really pretty, dressed in a white knitted jumper, blue skinny jeans
"hi i'm great, how're you?" she looked a little taken-back but still with a smile
"Oh you're British?" I nodded "ohh- where are you from?"
"Y/H/T (if you're not from England just chose somewhere to be from), grew up there then moved to Kansas when I was like 14" she smiled and looked back to Sam, I turned to Colby who was stood leaning up the door way staring back to me "what?" I mouthed and he shook his head with a smile
"right guys, we need to leave like in 5 minuets, it's a 4 hour drive- and I have to drive" he groaned "who's sitting in the front with me?" I watched as Amanda quickly placed a finger onto her nose "Amanda is sat with me then!" she grinned grabbing her bag
"Looks like were together then" I said looking to the dark headed man still behind me, he giggled before quickly hurrying away to the stairs and went up, he's so weird sometimes "okay before we go ima go for a piss" Sam threw me a thumbs up and I went to the bathroom. I finished and washed my hands, I looked into the mirror and stared at my make-up, I hadn't put much on but my lips looked slightly chapped so I pulled out my lip gloss and swiped it onto my lips, with one last look I walked out and was met with the blue eye gaze of Colby
"that for me?" he looked to my lips and back up
"of course" I smiled, biting my lip jokingly, I walked past hitting his shoulder slightly, but the feeling of his grip on me pulled me back to be in front of him, I turned to look to his face but he nodded to his free hand, the one not still holding my other hand that was gently drawing circles on with his thumb, I looked to his hands and saw him holding something "whats that?" he opened his palm and revealed two cross necklaces
"one for me and this one is for you" I smiled at the gesture taking mine from his hand and putting it into my pocket, but that made me think- how bad will this place be if I need to wear a cross...
"right come on were going!" Sam called and hurriedly I grabbed my bags to now put in his Tesla, we didn't all have that much, just some extra clothes, food, drinks, and equipment for the investigations we'd be doing, everything was in and I climbed into the left side of the car, fastened my belt and took off my shoes getting comfy, Amanda got in after me and turned to me passing me a bag of something
"try one!" she offered, my hand dipped into the purple bag and pulled out a yellow boiled sweet "mango and passionfruit" my eyes widened at the tase, it was great
"holy shit" I laughed "please tell me you have another bag?"
"I have three- they're my favourite sweet in literal world" we high-fived in agreement and she sat back into her seat, the boys joined us, Sam in the front, Colby with me. As the car turned on some random song began to play which Colby let a huff out, throwing his head back in some sort of protest
"Dude put something good on" he complained "put- Christina Aguilera on" Sam flicked his head back to his best friend who just shrugged
"why her?" he asked with a confused grin
"first name that came to mind" Soon the sweet voice Christina came on and our journey began, I went into my pocket pulling out my phone, flicked onto snapchat and quickly felt my phone pulled from my hands and Colby turned the screen to him "pose bitch" he yelped, I quickly sat forward putting my hand on his shoulder and my head rested next to his, he thew up a peace sign and the picture was taken "I look so sexy"
"sure you do" I sat back feeling the gaze of him fall on me, crossing my legs and letting my head fall back "so whats up with this place? I asked this dickhead and he told me basically people hung themselves and me and Amanda might get touched by a ghosty man" the group laughed before the girl in front turned to me
"okay so the house is called Elgor Manor House, it was passed through around like six generations of the Sails family, the one of the last known member of the house walked out to find a women stood at the gates, she said she had red-ish eyes, very boney and long dark hair yelling it was on fire, and when she turned around she saw smoke and flames eating the house, she ran in to try find her children and they were found in the hall crying pointing to the attic, she supposedly ran up and found the attic door open and matches up there- her husband Charles Sails had done it" I nodded taking in all the information "Charles was known to have some mental issues... so assumed, but she said when she saw him, his eyes were black, skin very white, and his shirt was ripped open and where his heart was a huge red mark was there, like as if he'd been clawed. Cherrie, the mom then just ran out with her children but sadly- 3 out the 5 died but when she got out the women wasn't there but Cherrie believed it was a saviour as without that women she would've been able to save the children she did despite her appearance being quite devil like- thats what she told the newspaper anyways, and then she died about a year later; Charles was never seen again so he was told to be dead, and then the 2 children she escaped with both were mysteriously shot two days apart the day after their mothers death" my jaw dropped "all under 18 years old too" I couldn't believe what I herd, and Amanda just nodded
"fuck- when did that all happen?"
"1926, but thats not even the weirdest bit, Charles' great granddad, Stephan Sails was told to always let the children start fires around the land as if they got out of hand many times it resulted in some servant dying and never landed back on him, there's still a tree there thats all ashy, but anyways, the way he died was getting into the attic, and then there was a fire, and when they found his body- even though he was so badly burnt- there was a huge red mark over where his heart was" Sam added, pulling to a stop at a light "the odd thing is though, so many people died in that attic, Charles, Stephan, the other 4 and then one of those were a girl named Marlie, from what we know she was about 10 and was Stephans Grandmothers sister, and she was found hanging off the 6th rafter with a rope, wrapped 6 times on her neck, and 6 of her toys surrounding her, and one of those toys still remain in the house after the fires and over about 200 years" I sat astonished, no words able to leave my mouth
"so 6th rafters, 6 times around her neck and 6 toys around her? could this mean something maybe... took over her? because well 666 is the devils number" Amanda agreed sending me a knowing look "holy shit" I breathed
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
"anyone hungry?" Sam asked looking back at everyone "there's a McDonald's over there" we all agreed to go grab something to eat, we still had a while to go till we got to the house anyways, the blonde pulled into the car park and all got out. The four of us walked in and went straight to the touch screens
"whats everyone having?" Colby asked, Sam quickly chose his food and Colby went after him, Amanda went next then me "ooh they have ice cream" he hummed in a childish tone, clapping his hands excitingly
"shall we all get one?" I asked and everyone nodded, so I added 4. I grabbed the receipt, me and Amanda stood waiting at the counter for the food while the other two went to find a table
"so how did you get to know the boys?" she asked
"oh I joined there school when I was 14, so... freshman year? because I had just moved from Y/H/T to Kansas because my mom got a job there, and I was in a few lessons with Colby but I was mostly with Sam, and they knew each other because of band that they were forced to do, then we started talking more and more until I found out we didn't live that far apart, started going to Sam's more, Colby was there a lot and then yeah, just stayed being their friends and we all moved here together but I bought a little place like 5 minuets away" she nodded, grabbing the one bag of food while I grabbed the two trays of drinks and ice cream
"to be completely honest when I first herd about you it was through Colby and I thought you guys were together from how he was saying it, he kept smiling while thinking of things to tell me and showed me photos of you, even blushed when I said you were pretty but I can see you two are just like really good friends" we laughed as I shut down the allegations, we were just best friends, every best friend sometimes have little flirty games together right?. We found the guys sat in a window seat laughing over something and me and Amanda sat across from them
"Whats funny?" I asked passing out the drinks
"just watching you two gossip like girls at school" Sam giggled red faced, him and Colby began impersonating us with high pitch squeals, I looked to the girl next to me and we just sighed ignoring them.
We all finished and got back into the car, I flicked my shoes off again and placed my legs over Colby who gave a stare to which I just smiled, placing my hoodie behind my head and laying back "really?"
"mhm" I yawned closing my eyes "feel free to give me a massage" he pretend heaved, but still placed his arms over my legs leaning back himself, the feeling of his rings felt cold against my skin, even through my jeans as he softly rubbed my legs. Slowly my body began to feel lighter, and the chatter and music became quieter.
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
"Y/n.... Y/n/n" my eyes fluttered opened to the smiling face of Colby "we're here" he sung pulling me up, I turned to look out the window and saw the sign, a concrete block engraved with 'Elgor Manor' and soon the house came into sight. Sam parked the car and we all got out, a chill ran down my spine despite the warmth of the day. The exterior of the house seemed to loom over us, casting an eerie shadow across the grounds. The structure, though grand, appeared worn and weathered, as if the weight of centuries pressed upon its dark, aged wooden frame.
Massive, gnarled trees surrounded the property, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, seemingly trying to grasp onto the last remnants of life. The overgrown bushes and tangled ivy obscured much of the house, adding to its air of neglect and foreboding. The windows, adorned with tattered, moth-eaten curtains. Despite the expanse of land stretching out around the manor, it felt suffocatingly claustrophobic, The overall appearance was not shabby but uncannily surreal, as if the passage of time had twisted the reality of the place. It was as though I had stepped into a realm where the laws of nature and perception bent in unsettling ways.
"woah" I sighed "this is....creepy but beautiful" I spoke looking back to the group, they nodded staring back to the home, soon the noise off tires scraping along the rubble drive appeared behind us, we all turned and were greeted with two people, one walked up, a grin put across his thin lips covered by a white beard, his matching long hair tied into a pony tail, the next to come out was a women, black hair, freckles, and bright red lipstick painted on her lips, with a pearly white beaming smile.
"Hey there!" the man greeted shaking all our hands "I'm Jack, this is my wife Mary and welcome to Elgor Manor" his wife came over shaking our hands again then finding a spot next to her husband "so Elgor Manor, is a very very old house, built around 1798 from what we know, past through many generations of the Sails family but nobody has lived here since 1940's, We found out in about 2020, our friend, Timothy, is actually a distant relative of this family, he was Charles Sails fourth great-grandchild and his great-aunt was the last to own the house-which is now a great new fact we can tell you all" he laughed
"yeah we've herd so much about this place its crazy the history behind it." Colby spoke to the two "We herd about Charles and Stephan"
"Oh oh- they're just the start of it all, its when you hear Marlie's story and her mother Carol-Anne" we all went quiet "you haven't herd about her have you?" we all shook our head no "you'll learn" I gulped, a cold feeling running through me "what're all your names by the way?" Mary asked
"Y/n"
"Colby"
"Amanda"
"Sam" she smiled nodding
"so Y/n, Amanda- you being girls need to be careful tonight, if you go into the back dining room or sometimes in one of the bedrooms there's a man there, his name is Christopher Sails- he was very well known around here for being quiet the player, a playboy you may say in the late 1800" Me and Amanda shared a look, one of slight fear "he's known for touching girls back, leaving marks, and sometimes you may feel your cheeks get warm but then in the middle cold- thats him giving you a kiss... but he is... nice... just be- careful" she sounded slight unsure, I gave a look to Sam who sent me a small unsettled thin lip smile
"well we will get to the tour -we are going to quickly unlock the doors but anyways after that we can take you round!" Jack smiled walking away with his wife, Sam and Amanda went back to the car to grab different bags and I turned back to Colby
"I am terrified" he laughed wrapping an arm around me, giving me a slight squeeze "if I get fucked by a ghost or some shit I'm going home"
"eh don't worry- a ghost wont fuck you" I looked up to the man who smiled back
"who will then?" I hummed walking away from him feeling his eyes follow my moves
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
It was time to go into the house, Colby and Amanda went in first and me and Sam followed behind, we walked into the hall and it was grand, gold accents everywhere, two huge mirrors, little objects protected by glass coverings "this part has been restored to how it would've been in 1910's, as you can see lots of gold and dark oak, this rug you see here has been here since 1890 and has been seen to move or make noise like its being slapped against the floor which is what the maids would've done" The couple went into another room, one with green-washed walls, plaster pulling from the walls, two sofas, wooden details decorating the outline, and a TV, we were told about the objects that have been told to move, especially one called Jessies Glass, it was a piece of glass with some spikes coming out
"so this is Jessies glass, so you see all the spikes- this was used agaisnst misbehaving children and staff, either they would stand on It or it was pushed into their backs" Mary commented making all of us do a collective groan "we've had experiences of people hearing screams by children and mostly maids as the heads of the house would usually punish those who didn't do their job right"
We carried on the tour around the house till we reached the last door on the third floor, it was shut, locked and had a sign reading 'Do not enter' I didn't even have a handle "so this is the staircase upto the attic. Obviously where Charles, Stephan, Marlie and others died" we nodded looking back to the ominous door "just- don't go up" we all nodded again and followed the guides down the stairs back to the last room
"think they'll know if we go up?" I hushed Colby who had a playful smirk twitching the sides of his lips "I know we all thought it" he whispered as we walked
We all walked into the dining room and stood around the grand oak table "so see that rocking chair in the corner, thats Christopher's, he's not here right now but That'll start rocking when he's in. He usually -in the day visits the yard, sits in the swinging sofa" all our eyes cast a gaze outside to the yard "mh doesn't seem to be out there either- odd" Mary spoke "well, thats everything, please call if you need anything, keys on the table so yes, just be careful, and respectful"
"thank you" Amanda spoke, the couple said a quick goodbye before leaving us in the house, we went back to our car pulling out all our things: EMF reader, music box, tap torches, spirt box and cat balls, then our things "Y/n wanna stay in one of the rooms up stairs or down here?"
"I think we need to sleep upstairs"
She agreed and the two of us ended up running up two the second floor "which room, Yellow or blue do you think?"
"oh defiantly blue!" as I spoke I herd a dismissive noise from below "what was that?"
"we want the blue room!" Sam yelled coming up the stairs "it's literally the most active, you herd what Jack said- we want it"
"we've already dibbed it" I sassed looking to the blonde
"fuck you" he pouted walking back down the staircase "Colby they're having the blue room"
"NU UH!" the other groaned as a smile crept on mine and Amanda's faces as we placed our things on the bed
"tonight it going to be amazing, do you see anything yet?" I spoke out of interest as I pulled on my hoodie
"no not yet, not even had any feelings either- might just have to wait a bit" I hummed listening to her explanation "why don't we go into the garden, see if Christopher is out there?" quickly we made our way down the stairs and into the kitchen to get to the garden, we stepped out and the warm air hit us, my eyes looked to the swinging seat, it was still.
"maybe we should try sitting there" I spoke making my own way to the cushioned seat, I sat back looking round while Amanda came over, I swayed gently on the swinging bench, my gaze wanders across the garden, taking in the peculiar blend of beauty and eerie ambiance that surrounds me. The garden appears deceptively tranquil at first glance, with an abundance of vibrant flowers in full bloom. Lush, colourful petals dance in the gentle breeze, painting a picturesque scene that should be serene.
The fragrance of the flowers hangs thick in the air, a delightful mixture of sweet scents that should evoke joy, yet there's an underlying sense of foreboding. It's as if the very essence of the garden is intertwined with an unspoken mystery, a silent narrative woven between the petals and leaves. Then I see a pond, the pond, nestled amidst the blossoms, reflects the azure sky above, mirroring the beauty of the day. Yet, despite the shimmering water's surface, there's a certain depth that seems to hold secrets, as if it conceals more than just fish and lily pads beneath.
"its really nice for a place thats meant to be extremely haunted" the girl spoke next to me "maybe... maybe it wont be bad" I hummed relaxing more into the seat
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
The time ticked away, 2pm, 5pm and then the time finally hit 9pm "nothings even happened" Sam groaned "we've been around the whole house with all the equipment and nothing this is so stupid" The four of us had sat In the living room, Amanda in the arm chair, Sam, and Colby on the two seater and I sat on the floor flicking through channels on the TV "I mean even you haven't seen anything" he argued, I finally settled on some random sitcom and sat back leaning against Colby's leg for support
"it might just take some time" the brunette behind spoke
"fuck it taking time- we've been here since fucking 1:30 and nothing, I'm calling bullshit" Sam got up from his place and stormed into the kitchen grabbing a water bottle and basically gulping the whole thing muttering some words, I looked back to Colby who gave me a smirk then looked back to the TV
"well I'm gonna go change" Amanda said standing "come?" she gave her hand to me, pulling me up to meet her height, still in hand we began to go up the stairs, running like children to our room "Sam is so pissed off"
"I know, I've never seen him like this" I laughed pulling off my jumper "like he's never this angr-" I was cut my a creaking sound, then a thump "fuck was that?"
"probably the guys?" she spoke walking to the door "Sam?! Colby?!" she called, no response, then another bang- above us
"that was upstairs..." quickly I pulled my hoody back over me and walked out the room up the small crooked staircase, I looked down the hall, Amanda stood close behind me "nothings moved-"
"Y/n- there's a little girl, ran into the door down there" the blondes voice was small "red hair, blue bows, light blue dress" I looked to where she was gesturing to
"that...no- that fucking door is open" my heart sank "we need to grab the guys" the two of us hurried down the first flight of stairs then the second "the doors open!"
"what door?" Colby asked sitting up
"the door with no shitting handle and the don't enter sign" we all shared a look before they quickly came up past us running to the door, I quickly grabbed the Rempod and followed, switching it on so It was ready when we got to the door. I crept up the steps and was met with the back of Colby, I let my arm creep around his waist
"FU-fucking hell Y/n" he breathed turning to look at me, I gave him a quick sorry smile before squeezing past with the Rempod, I walked past the other two and went face to face with the door "be careful" he warned
"If there is anyone here... please touch this antenna" I spoke stopping the conversation between the two blondes , I took a few steps back looking at the machine intensely "we're not here to cause any stress, harm, anything negative- just want to talk" I spoke again. the box began to beep, red light flashing, I took a glance back to the group who's faces lightened "who are we talking to, erm can you touch once for a child, twice for adult" and there again it beeped once
"she's back- behind the door" I looked up facing the door, slowly I went to my knees, holding a warm smile on my face
"hi" I whispered and the box buzzed again "are you Marlie?" everyone went quiet "Marlie Sails?" the Rempod beeped again, I tried to not seem terrified and kept my stance, hands shaking by my sides
"She's gone... I'm guessing up the stairs" I stood going to take a step through the door
"wait" a hand gripped my forearm, I felt all the cold rings press against my skin, the same familiar feeling from earlier in the car "be careful- have you got your cross?" I nodded going into my pocket and pulling out, Colby took the necklace from my grip and gently moved my hair to the side, lifting the dainty metal over my head and clipped it around my neck "okay" I looked back seeing a tent pushed into his cheek, eyes low looking to me, sending me an unspoken message, Slowly, I pulled the door open more listening as it creaked, revealing deformed, water-damaged steps that ascended steeply to the attic. Each step groaned and protested beneath my weight, as if the old wooden structure itself was begging me to turn back.
With each step, the protest of the wood grew louder, a cacophony of distress that reverberated through the dimly lit corridor. The air felt heavy and suffocating, as if the very walls were watching, waiting for my next move.
Reaching the top, a chill slithered down my spine, instantly sending shivers across my skin. The attic lay engulfed in darkness, besides the faint glimmer of moonlight that seeped through a small window, casting elongated shadows that danced along the floor.
I squinted into the darkness, my eyes adjusting slowly. Shapes emerged, barely visible in the dim light, and among them, the faint outlines of rafters became visible. Counting softly, my voice barely audible in the oppressive silence, "One, two, three, four, five... six." My gaze fixed on the sixth rafter to my right, the very beam from which Marlie's life had been stolen. As I extended my hand to touch the wood, a shiver of uncertainty coursed through me. "You were so young," my voice quivered, barely louder than a whisper. "Why?" The words hung in the air, swallowed by the quietness of the attic.
A sudden change in the atmosphere sent a wave of warmth around me, a stark contrast to the chilling aura just moments before. My hair prickled on the back of my neck, standing as if trying to flee the unseen force that enveloped me. "Is... is that you, Marlie?" I stammered, my voice faltering as the air grew thicker, charged with an otherworldly energy.
"Y/n? everything okay?" Amanda called, I turned my head to look down the staircase where her voice was coming from
"can you come up?" I asked and herd the quiet steps coming up the stairs and then the face of the blonde girl appeared, her smile quickly dropped "what?"
"the little girl is down there- by the window" I turned my head looking to the window, it seemed blurred unlike before "she's looking directly at you"
"H-hi Marlie" I spoke "how are you?" I felt my stomach flip, my head going misty "does she look- happy?" I asked and Amanda looked back her eyes flicking around the girl
"she seems- okay? not happy but not anything else, almost emotionless, I...oh" my head went back to Amanda who seemed worried herself "she's gone"
I felt a cold chill run through my body as if something walked through me "shit" I spoke feeling my body quiver "shall we go back down?" I asked seeing Amanda's shadow nod, we began back down the staircase, we left the last step and looked to the two boys who stood silent looking to us "she was up there"
"I've never seen something like that- so....so clear" Amanda breathed scratching her head
"Marlie?" Sam asked and we nodded "woah- maybe we should take the spirtbox up, or at least stand here and do it, maybe she could speak?" we all agreed, Sam hurried down the stairs to the first room grabbing the things
"I need a drink before we do this" Amanda spoke looking to us "you guys want one?"
"please" I spoke looking back to the door, the girls footsteps wondered away leaving me and Colby again "this is crazy"
"Are you alright?" His words were barely audible, whispered with a gentle concern that wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. His arm extended slowly, encircling my waist and drawing me closer. I hummed softly, shifting my gaze toward him "you had me worried going up there" and a wave of reassurance washed over me as I met his eyes. There, I found a small but warm grin gracing his lips, instantly soothing my unease and bringing a sense of safety and care. Our eyes met, his piercing blue ones looking into my Y/C/E, Our breaths seemed to halt as we watched each other, our faces inching closer and closer, my heart stopped, falling but in the best way possible "can I-"
"Y/n grabbed you a water" hurriedly we pulled away, turning to see Amanda holding three waters, and Sam not far behind "have you felt anything since?" she asked handing my the bottle, I couldn't tell her the hot feeling that ran through my body was because I was close to kissing my best friend of 13 years
"er- no, nothing" I answered quietly pulling away from the man next to me to grab the bottle
"mh strange" she spoke
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
The four of us now sat in a small circle as the clock struck 3:30am, little tea lights surrounding us, the spirit box in the middle "anyone wanna do the Estes method?" Sam asked
"can I try?" I wondered seeing everyones eyes flick to mine
"are you sure?" Colby said, I nodded picking up the blind fold and bringing it to my eyes, I held it behind me and faced my back to the brunette boy, he took the silky material out my hand, slowly he tied the knot and it tightened to my head "okay here are the headphones" he put the pair in my hands and I put them on, the static noises filling my ears almost defining me, I kept listening waiting for some words
"up..........tight..........sick..........momma..........help me..........waiting..........Rosa..........Dining room..........blue..........you..........Samual..........ten..........no care..........duck..........help..........kill..........he did..........made me..........devil man..........father..........fire" My breath began to pick up, chest heaving up and down, my body rocking trying to catch breath, 'he made us die' voices breathed into my ear I ripped the headphones from my head, pulled the material from my eyes "fuck that" I shuffled back from my place clutching the sofa behind me
"what what happened?" Sam looked to me with slight panic in his eyes
"something- something whispered 'he made us die' in only the left ear- and it was like multiple voices said it" I cried, eyes filling with tears "like a little girl and loads of others too but I could hear her the most"
"we do think it was Marlie we were talking to a lot" Amanda said gently, my lip kept quivering, I couldn't stop it was all to real "I saw her twice, peaking around the door" I smiled weakly
"need a break?" Colby spoke, I nodded I really needed some air, I got up walking to the front door and stepping out onto the porch, I let myself hang over the railing catching my breath while wiping away the tears that kept falling down my cheeks, I looked out into the pitch black landscape "drink?" I freaked turning to see the tatted man holding my water bottle
"thanks" I breathed taking a sip "that was terrifying" the warm feeling of his hand cupped my back, standing closely behind me, comforting me after the fright. I sucked another breath and leaned into him resting my head on his shoulder
"every question we asked got answered you know- but at one point you started rocking and...eh doesn't matter" I looked up to him, questioning him with my eyes "I was gonna grab you but didn't wanna ruin the experiment... yeah the experiment " he answered avoiding my gaze
"mh, maybe you should next time" I followed looking back to the darkness
"only if you let me" he whispered into the shell of my ear making my body go from freezing to burning
"maybe I will" I teased, I turned to meet his gaze, a smile teasing the corners of my lips. "So, what were you going to ask me earlier, upstairs?" I inquired, leaning in slightly, feeling a rush of excitement as Colby's head fell closer to mine, our breaths meeting in the air between us. Our lips were tantalisingly close, the anticipation crackling like electricity, a teasing tension building with each passing moment.
"you really wanna know?" I hummed, nodding my head gently "I was wondering if maybe I could-" before he finished his sentence another person walked out
"oh should I" Sam coughed, we tore apart going away from the sides of each other "erm me and Amanda are gonna go to bed its like 4 am so" I pulled my jumper straight and gave the blonde boy a quick smile
"yeah I'll go up- night guys" I said quickening my pace back into the house and up to mine and Amanda's room "hey" I called walking in
"hi- feeling better?" she asked settling into the sheets
"much" I grinned going to the bed and pulling my side open "first day meeting and already in bed together" I joked hearing a laugh come from the girl "anyways goodnight" I smiled one last time before I turned my lamp off and closed my eyes
"night"
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
"Y/n....Y/n" I heard a whisper shout in my ear "wake up.... Y/n please" my eyes flickered open "someones in here" her voice was small
"what..who?" I asked sitting up, the room was pitch black, I grabbed my phone turning on the flashlight "one of the guys?"
"no...well its a man, he's In the corner watching" I turned my head to the corner of the room, shining my light there and there it was again a hazy mist "Y/n I see things like this but he seems different- I cant get anything from him, he seems.. I don't even know"
"shall we leave?" I asked pushing the covers off my body
"yeah- erm let me just grab my paper quickly" rapidly I left the bed, grabbing my jumper I seemed to have taken off and waited for Amanda to come to me, she followed me as we left the room and went next door, I pushed opened the door to reveal the two sleeping boys tucked untidily in the sheets "should we wake them up?"
"yeah- Sam, Colby" I called seeing neither of them shift, I went over to the bed shaking Sam by his shoulder and his eyes opened
"what the fuck Y/n- what?" his whispered, voice full of sleep "its like- 6 in the morning" the covers on the other side shifted and a murmur came from the boys mouth
"Amanda saw a man in our room" I spoke being quieter, I turned back to see the girl sat In the small desk chair looking to her notepad
"what do you mean? a real man?" Colby spoke up, the covers fell from him showing his toned body
"no- it was an older guy, green robe, little hair, and like I kept getting the words like 'ladies' 'kiss' and 'beauty'" Amanda told with a breath
"sounds like that Christopher guy" I shook my head feeling my cheek go hot then cold in the middle "Y/n whats wrong"
"I think you're right" I answered "he kissed me, like I felt what Mary or whatever told us" I sat myself on the bed setting back onto the frame "my cheek felt hot then ice cold In the middle"
"why has he followed you guys into here though? he must really like you" as soon as Sam finished a huge bang rattled the house "fuck was that" he called
"did you follow the girls in here Christopher?" Colby asked "Knock once for no, knock twice for yes" we all went quiet listening to the two thumps that filled the room
"you have no right to touch us- don't ever do that again" Amanda warned, her tone slick with anger "its wrong to follow girls like that- or anyone for that matter. Never do that again you hear me Christopher" the sound of footsteps rattled through and soon faded down the stairs, he left thankfully
"fucking hate this so much" I muttered looking to my phone, I unlocked it I switched onto snapchat, soon the dark outline of Sam Colby appeared on my screen "smile" I voiced, trying to take my mind from everything thats happened seeing the two sleepily posed and I pressed the button snapping a picture, it loaded back onto my screen and I went to look "no- fucking - way!"
"what?!" the three asked scrambling over to see, I pointed to in-between the two "is that a face?" Sam yelled, hands gripping to his hair, and there it was two eyes, nose and mouth "who is that?"
"let me see" Amanda said taking my phone "it looks like...Carol-Anne? like the painting in the living room, thats gotta be her"
"we never learnt anything about her" I spoke "is that you, Carol-Anne?" I felt a nudge next to me "oh" I called looking over my shoulder "is that a yes?" I felt the push again "Okay- erm why don't we get the spirt box out again" I said
"yeah but no Estes this time" Sam answered going into his bag and pulling at the box switching it on, the static taking me back to only a few hours earlier
"what happened to you?" I asked
"daddy" we all looked to each other
"your dad did something?"
"push"
"he pushed you? where did he push you?" Amanda asked grabbing her note book again writing something dow
"woods"
"pushed you into the woods?"
"dark...cold"
"where in the woods did it happen?" I questioned
"grave"
"holy shit was she buried alive?" I turned to Colby who's jaw was open
"yes"
"OH MY GOD" we all called horrified by the response
"why?"
"Naughty baby" it answered
"naughty baby? maybe she was looking after the baby and it did something?"
"moved"
"did you hurt it by accident?"
"poorly head" my eyes widened "speak no more" it finished and the static got louder and louder
"fucking hell" I sighed "well thank you" Sam reached over turning off he box
"well I'm not sleeping anymore" we all laughed "and why dod everything touch me!" I called flopping down into the bed
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
the time ticked by until it reached 9am, we all decided to get ready for the day and wait down stairs until Jack and Mary returned, Me and Sam sat slouched in the living room looking around at the different history in the room "did we ever check if that other door closed? the one in the attic?" I asked looking up the the blonde
"me and Col checked- its closed and I couldn't even pull it back open.. do we tell the owners it opened?"
"maybe but just don't say me and Amanda went up" I told sitting back up "speaking of I think they're here" together we got up, watched as their range drover pulled onto the gravel drive
"Hi guys" Jack called walking into the house with Mary in hand, we all greeted the pair again before they led us to sit in the dining room. I pulled a chair between Amanda and Colby, across from the couple
"So what happened?" Mary spoke crossing her hands
"well nothing happened till about 9pm, erm me and Manda went to change or something up stairs and then we herd a massive noise from the third floor... we went up to see and you know the do not enter door?"
"did- did it open?" Jack asked with a worried tone
"mhm and we promise we did nothing to it, we hadn't touched it or anything, we put the Rempod there and it beeped, and I saw a little girl, red hair, blue bows..."
"Marlie- she doesn't come round much" Mary smiled "did she speak to you? she's often very shy" we all nodded telling her what we knew "was there anyone else?"
"we had Marlie, Christopher and Carol-Anne" Colby answered "can you tell us what actually happened with her before we tell you what she said?"
"sure, so she was the mother of Marlie, Kelsie-Rose, Robert and a toddler we believe the name was Marcus or Marc, one day while looking after the children she was struggling and Marcus kept misbehaving and while in her arms and she dropped him and he passed out but her father caught it happen, bare in mind she was 20 with 4 children, and her father was so angry he made the servants of the house dig a grave in the woods and she was buried alive because of it on January 9th, but the wood was chopped away for the garden and her grave is actually in the pond" my heart skipped- I knew there was something wrong with that pond
"thats what she told us" I said, my voice barely above a whisper
"its a horrible story- poor girl" Mary told looking down "when did she tell you?"
"this morning, around 6ish"
"thats when it happened, 6am she was buried, we found it in a diary that was brought up from the old basement- obviously that basement is gone now though" the group as a whole let out a breath, one of pure shock
"fuck" Sam groaned
Soon it was time to go, we all went up grabbing our stuff saying our good byes to the house, Jack and Mary too, we all went out to Sam's car, putting all our things into the back. I opened my door getting into my back seat and looked to the floor, the same sweets from the day before, I picked up the pack tipping a few into my lap.
"guys were going to do no stops so if you need a piss then fuck it" Sam called staring his car
Soon everyone was settled in and the trip began again, Colby looked over to me sending a quick smile my way as I toyed with the sweet pack in my lap , I handed him a sweet and he happily opened it putting it into his mouth
"good?" he nodded letting his head fall back leaning onto the window "I'm so tired" I jawed, Colby looked over to me again, patting his lap "you sure?" he nodded not sharing any words but turning himself to be comfier for me, I leant down letting my head rest on Colby's thigh "goodnight" I joked, I closed my eyes feeling a soothing warmth come over me, subtly I felt Colbys hand stroke down my arm, stopping near my wrist and his other going to my scalp drawing small circles around my head, slowly I felt myself become lighter and soon I was fast asleep
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
"look at them" someone spoke "they're gonna laugh at this when they're awake" someone else said, my eyes flittered open to the two smiling, staring faces of the two blondes "hello" Sam cooed
"mor-morning" I hummed stretching slightly, my hand hit something and I looked up to see the other sleeping face of Colby above me, I couldn't stop the shy smile from appearing on my face "Col" I called shaking him slightly
"no babe I'm tired" he muttered turning away, my heart stopped 'babe'? he was asleep, he didn't know he said it.. but everyone else herd
"he's gonna regret saying that" Sam sinisterly grinned with a wicked laugh
finally we all got out, Colby sleepily shuffled inside the house, scratching his hair out his face "that went fast" he huffed falling onto the sofa
"indeed it did babe" Sam giggled looking to me and back to Colby
"what?" he spoke looking to us
"nothing- anyways I've gotta take Amanda to the airport" I looked to the blonde girl who pouted coming over to me, I wrapped my arms around her
"thanks for the last day it was so cool, and it was great meeting you, we'll, have to hang out again" I grinned coming away
"absolutely! I loved this so much, see you soon Colby" the boy stood hugging her too and we both waved goodbye as Sam and her pulled away, we both walked back into the living room flopping into the couch with a sigh
"gonna come to the next haunted place?" he spoke looking over to me
"hm maybe- just don't wanna be kissed by a random ghosty man again though" I giggled facing Colby again, I hadn't noticed how close we were, our shoulders grazing against each others, faces inches away
"maybe you could get kissed by someone else?" he questioned, eyes falling to my lips then back up to me "...can I tell you what I tried to tell you this morning?" I nodded, no words able to leave my mouth "I was wondering if maybe I could...if I could kiss you?" I looked to the boy, paralysed by his words
"yes please" I answered, it came out my breathy then I imagined but the smile that crept onto the boys face made me realise it wasn't a bad thing. Gently Colby's hand slithered up to my jaw, cupping my face pulling me in lightly
His breath hitched, a low, deep moan escaping as our lips melded. It was a soft collision, yet every touch carried an electric charge, as though our mouths were destined to be together. Each motion felt instinctual, a choreographed dance of desire. Sensing Colby's longing, his tongue traced a path along my lips, a silent plea for entry that I welcomed eagerly. The kiss intensified, a symphony of heat and passion, a growing ache in my stomach got so much needier.
My actions became thoughtless, almost instinctive as I straddled him, our connection unbroken. ''God, you're incredible'' he murmured, his hands finding their place on my waist, his voice a deep, gravelly whisper that sent shivers down my spine. The air crackled with an intoxicating blend of desire and appreciation, his lips moved from my lips to my jaw and then my neck
"Mhmm Co-Colby" I whined as he reached the sweet spot, hearing my sigh he kept going, sucking deeper and harder "agh fuck" my hands gripped his shoulders, scrunching into his shirt, my back arching making me come away from his lips
"if you keep acting like this we might need to go somewhere else" I smiled looking down to the boy "my room?" he spoke and I just nodded jumping from his lap watching him intently as he stood grabbing me again, lifting me to meet his lips, I curled my arms around his neck pulling him as close as I could.
We began climbing the stairs, Colby's hands keeping me steady around his waist until we reached the top, he set me down softly and my hands went quickly down to his waist, fingers curling around his his shirt lifting it above his head and threw it to the floor, his actioned mirrored mine, my shirt quickly being on top if his crumpled on the floor, his hands quickly found the underneath of my thighs again and lifted me up carrying to his room.
"you're so beautiful" he whispered, as he set me on his bed, my fingers went to my jeans, pushing the button out the hole and soon down my legs and onto the floor, as soon as they were off Colby crawled above me, eyes eating every inch of me "look at you" he cooed, hand drawing up the side of me until it met my bra
"take it off?" I teased, a playful glint sparkling in my eyes as I curved a seductive smile on my lips. A subtle nod from him and I propped myself up, stealing a swift kiss before turning around. I could feel the warmth of his gentle fingers as they skillfully unhooked my bra, his lips tracing a tantalizing path against my bare skin, sending shivers down my spine. I turned to meet his gaze again, a coy expression playing on my face, silently inviting him to continue
"holy shit" He gazed in awe, his eyes tracing down my body as his head dipped closer. With a delicate motion, his lips caressed my breast, the tantalizing touch of his tongue flicking along my nipple sent shivers cascading down my spine, igniting a thrilling sensation that lingered
"fuck fuck fuck" I sang as he sucked harder his hand massaging the other "Colby- please fuck I need you" I cried, hand wrapping into his hair pulling him up "please" I begged, I pulled his hand from my waist to my heat letting him feel my need, his pricing eyes glared into mine with the most lustful grin play along his lips
"shit" he smirked, quickly he stood pulling down his cargos revealing the tent that had formed in his boxers that were tightly pulled on his skin, he sat back onto the bed and I couldn't help but crawl onto him again, my heat meeting his bulge, my lips went to his jaw, sucking as sweet mumbles fell from his lips. Unintentionally I let my hips grind against his, I couldn't help but create some sort of friction "fuck doll" his head lulled back, his body hitting the mattress moments after, my hand lay against his abs keeping me up while I pushed harder onto his tent
"Colby?" I asked seeing him look to him again "I really need you" my voice was shaky, needy. My finger traced a path from his v-line to his boxer strap, toying with the underneath begging for entrance
"fuck- need to be in you" he spoke, as he sat on his elbows, I grinned taking that as a yes to pull off the restraint from his cock "ughh" he quivered as it sprung to his stomach
"fuck me" I breathed, it seemed to light a fire in the boy, I felt our position switch, Colby towered above me, his arms reached above my head
"let me take care of you Y/n" he asked, peppering my face with small kisses, I nodded feeling his fingers go to my hips pulling my panties from my skin, the cold air hitting my burning core.
his fingers sweep my entrance "unnngh" I sighed eyes clamping closed, I reopened my eyes to watch the boy stick his slick fingers into his mouth, sucking off the reminiscences of me off
"you're so sweet baby girl-just like those fucking sweets" Colby looked to me, and without any words shared my mouth opened, and his two digits entered my mouth "mm"
It was enough teasing, we knew we couldn't keep teasing each other, it was torturous, his hand grabbed his cock slipping it gently between my folds "Col-Colby please" before I could even finish my pleas his tip pushed in me "aghhh" I called, my finger tips dug into the sheets, slowly he pushed deeper, incoherent noises fell from my lips, he stopped, our bodies meeting as he bottomed out
"shi-shi-shit Y/n... fuck" slowly the brunette pulled back achingly slow, feeling every inch of my inside before plowing back in, moans, groans, yelps of pleasure started to seep from us as he found a fast pace, the sound of sex filling the room, Colbys hands gently groping the skin
"Colby- Colby" I chanted, I grabbed one of his hands leading it to my neck, delicately his hand held me, not restricting my breathing but enough to make me want more of him, I traced sharp lines against his skin until my grasp fixed to his hair, every time his tip brushed my core my body shivered and pulled a tuft of his brown locks
"thats it Y/n- Take it take it take it!" Colby growled, his cock disappearing into my body "shit-" he swallowed
"Deeper Col- Fuck- Dee-deeper" I cried as I curled my hands around his head. Colby's eyes snapped to mine, those god damn blue eyes- the ones I stared at for years but never got to see them like this before, half shut but open enough to see his pupils growing larger with every hit
"say my name-" he moaned, I took one last gasp of air before the name 'Colby' flowed from my mouth sending rhythmic shivers down his back "ugh- Y/n I need you to keep doing that for me" for the first time since we began the pace slowed, his cock barely coming out of me "Fuck Y/n/n I'm so close" he whimpered sending a chill through my burning body "are you?" I nodded, no words escaping my mouth, our eyes locked, his eyes seeming to be darker and more lust filled than before, his hands moved from being around my neck to caging around my face "I cant hold it any longer babe" he moaned, his hips stuttered each time hitting my g-spot
"Co-Colby I'm going to- fuck- I'm gonna cum" I purred, hands scratching into his skin making him hiss in pleasure, soon we both groaned, his head falling into the crook of my neck
"ffffuuucckk" he cried as he pumped his load into me, I rolled my hips against him gently, riding out my high before I felt myself come down to the soothing feeling of lips against my face
"fuck you were so good sweetheart" Colby breathed, looking at my face checking I was okay
"I... I cant even speak" I smiled, hands holding onto his face, tracing his features
"fucked you that good?" he smirked jokily, slowly he pulled out, his hand rubbing over my stomach
"shut up" I grinned. The two of us lay there quietly for a moment, his arms coming around keeping me embraced to his side.
"you wont believe how long I've waned to do this with you" he soothed, pressing a kiss to the corner of my lip
"I always thought it was just me" I spoke
"wanna go grab a drink?" I nodded standing going to grab my panties off the floor "need a shirt?"
"yeah I think someone through mine onto the floor"
"Oh who was that?" I shook my head taking the t-shirt the boy handed me, I slipped it over my body taking in the cent of him, I went to take a step by my body felt shaky "you okay?" he laughed, hands gripping my arms
"mhm- just need a second" I giggled standing myself back up, soon we made it down stairs walking to go in the kitchen, my view was full with a blonde giving the most evil look, but not evil in a bad way, the way were straight away I knew the both of us were in for it
"so?" he spoke cocking his eyebrow up
"when did you get back?" Colby asked, pulling the fridge open and getting two bottles of something out
"about 10 minuets" I sighed, closing my eyes trying to ignore the blush from burning a hole in my face
"I called it years ago" Sam grinned coming from his place and hitting the back of the other boy before walking away
"aha don't go all shy Y/n- it's fine" the hands of Colby wrapped around my waist pulling me into a hug "you know he's only playing- but he isn't wrong, he called that we'd be together one day"
"Together?" I asked looking up to meet the eyes of the boy
"well- that was my next question" he sighed, lips pressing against mine "what do you think?"
"mh- I think its a good idea" my arms wound around his neck, pulling him to kiss my lips again "what do you think?"
"I think calling you mine sounds perfect"
212 notes · View notes
Text
Heartwork- E.M. Pt. 3
You and Eddie go out to dinner at the diner.
1 - 2 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - Epilogue
Masterlist
TW- Cursing, innuendo
Pairings- Eddie X Reader
Word Count- 1,711
(Gif not mine, Credit to owner!)
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You nod as you all walk out of the theater, having been the only one to see it before, you were the only one prepared for the complete mind-fuck in store. The three men with you walk out dazed, eyes glossed over as they digest the movie.  
“That was awesome,” Dustin muses as the four of you walk toward the front. You simply nod again. 
“I know. It’s genius,” You state. 
“New favorite movie, for sure,” Eddie comments. 
“I told you it was great! It’s an instant classic.”  
“I mean, Anthony Hopkins… He’s just…” 
“Fucking fantastic, is what he is!” Gareth exclaims. “And Buffalo Bill!” 
“It rubs the lotion on its skin, or else it gets the hose again!” Dustin imitates, making you all laugh as you push through the front doors.  
“Hey, we’re gonna go to the diner to get some food, you guys wanna come?” Eddie offers.  
“Nah, I’ve got work early in the morning, thanks though,” Dustin says.  
“Yeah, and I’ve gotta get home to Nicole. Maybe next time?”  
“Yeah, for sure! Here, take my number and we can schedule a lunch together!” You hand both Gareth and Dustin card from your purse and bid them all goodbye, then you turn to Eddie.  
“Okay, I’ll meet you there?” Eddie nods. 
“Yeah, I’ll see you in a few minutes.” You hug, even though you’re not saying goodbye, and you laugh as you pull away. 
“See you in a few.” You walk to your car and get in the driver’s seat, backing out of the space and pulling out of the lot. You see Eddie’s car pull in the parking lot for the diner just before you do, and you pull into the space next to him and get out to go inside to meet him. 
“Hey! Fancy seeing you here.” You laugh, pulling Eddie’s attention to you. He smiles, hands in his pockets as he turns to you. 
“Yeah, it’s like we planned it or something!” He takes a step towards you, that sweet, goofy smile you’ve always adored dancing on his lips. “You ready to sit?” He motions with his head to a booth in the corner. The usual booth that the three of you always used to sit at. You nod, remembering all of the good times this place held with a smile as you walk over and sit down across from each other. 
A couple of minutes later, a waitress comes over to greet you. “Hi guys, I’m Tina. Can I get you started with something to drink?” She looks a bit younger than you two, maybe still in high school.  
“Yeah, I’ll have a coke, please,” Eddie says, looking up from the menu. The waitress writes it on her pad and looks to you.  
“I’ll just have a water,” She nods and writes again.  
“Are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?” You and Eddie look to each other, when you see Eddie shrug slightly, you turn back to Tina. 
“Just a couple minutes please,” She gives a tired smile as she nods again and turns to go get your drinks. The next couple of seconds are silent as you and Eddie look over your menus. 
“Wanna split some cheese fries?” Eddie asks, an eyebrow quirked playfully as if getting cheese fries was a risky activity. You chuckle and contemplate, lips pressing together as you hum in thought. 
“That sounds good…” You begin as you narrow your eyes devilishly. “But you know what could be better?” You lean in slightly. 
“What could be better than cheese fries?” Eddie rolls his eyes.  
“Chili cheese fries!” You exclaim. Eddie nods solemnly. 
“I knew I kept you around for a reason!” You reach across the table to smack Eddie with the menu lightly, both of you laughing. 
“I thought you said I was your best friend!” You feign hurt across your face, only thinly veiling the ever-growing smile you wear. 
“Yeah! Because who else would condone eating cheese fries at 10:30 at night?!” Eddie rolls his eyes like it’s obvious. You’ve missed this. You didn’t have many friends in Chicago. Most of the people you had classes with were stuffy, uppity people from rich families. You never vibed with those sorts of people. You’ve always preferred the outcasts, having been one yourself in most of your formative years. You had a couple of casual friends, but nothing comparing to the deep bond you share with Eddie, and what you once shared with Y/BFF/N. 
Tina comes back as your laughter wanes, a light smile on her face, probably amused by the antics between you and Eddie. “Alright, are we ready to order now?” You turn to her and nod, glancing back at the menu for the name of the burger you’re wanting.  
“I think I’m gonna do the Bacon Cheeseburger Royale, with no tomato, please, and we’re gonna split an order of chili cheese fries.”  
“Okay, great choice. And for you, sir?” She turns to Eddie. 
“I’ll do the Grilled Chicken Sandwich, and I’d also like bacon on mine, please.” Eddie grabs both of your menus to hand back to the waitress.  
“Alright, and will that be on one check?” 
“Yes!” You interject as Eddie begins answering. “I’ll take it.” Tina nods and turns to go put in your orders. 
“You don’t have to buy me dinner!” Eddie says. You roll your eyes exaggeratedly. 
“You didn’t have to buy my movie ticket! You can get dinner next time, okay?” You reason, smiling at Eddie across the table. He shakes his head lightly, but gives it up.  
“Alright, deal.” You shake on it and keep talking until the food comes, the conversation never slowing as you laugh together. 
“Oh, do you remember Steve?” Eddie asks, stuffing his mouth with a couple of fries. You roll your eyes up, thinking, until his picture pops into your head. 
“Harrington? Yeah, what about him?”  
“I talk to him every once in a while. He just got his degree in Education. Guess where he works now!” You think back on Steve, not the most studious person, you recall, but a nice enough guy. You mainly remember how attractive you and the whole of Hawkins thought he was. Man, he’s gonna have a rough time with his female students. 
“Hawkins High, I’m guessing? Jesus... Doesn’t that man have enough ego without being fawned over by a bunch of hormonal teenagers?” You chuckle at the thought, cheerleaders asking for special “extra credit” when they fall behind in his class. Poor guy, he’s gonna have to bathe in hand sanitizer just to keep the creepy off.  
“Yeah, but he seems to really like it. At least the kids listen to him for the most part. God knows that all of high school is a popularity contest. I guess it’s true even for the teachers.” Eddie says.  
“I suppose so. I heard from my parents that the Wheeler girl... Nancy, right? I heard she’s working for NBC now. My parents are friends with her parents.” 
“Yeah, and Mike, her brother, you remember him? He’s at CalTech. Sends me a postcard every once in a while. He was a little shit in high school but he and that girl he’s with seem to be happy.” You think back and remember the girl vaguely. You only ever saw her once or twice but Mike never seemed to stop talking about her.  
“Isn’t she his cousin or something?” You squint your eyes, trying to remember as Eddie laughs out loud across from you.  
“Fuck no! That was just a rumor going around for a while before everyone believed he had a girlfriend!” You chuckle now, slightly embarrassed at the false memory. 
“Oh, oops!” Eddie laughs harder as a bubble of laughter bursts from your mouth to accompany his and as you inhale, you snort a bit, which makes Eddie, and then you, laugh even harder. You’re practically in tears by the time the food’s gone, stomachs tense, face aching from all the fun you’re having.  
The bill gets brought out, and after you pay, you and Eddie walk out to the parking lot together, still joking about everything under the sun. He walks you to your car, and you turn to him, wrapping your arms around his slender frame in a hug. “This was so much fun. Thanks for inviting me out,” Eddie reciprocates, bringing his arms around you and squeezing, laying his cheek on the top of your head.  
“Don’t mention it. Now that you’re back, I’m gonna be dragging you out to everything!” He jokes. “You’re gonna get sick of seeing me.” You scrunch your nose and shake your head as you part. 
“I’ll never get sick of seeing you, Munson. You’re probably the best thing about this place.” You confess, smiling sweetly. Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes dramatically and you almost swear you see a tinge of pink sweep across his cheeks as he smiles. 
“Nah, no way. You might be, though.” He leans in for another quick hug, and you get a shock as you feel his lips press briefly to your cheek. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you in this friendly fashion, but it feels different all the same. Maybe it’s just because it’s been so long. Still, the warmth of his lips on your face for that brief moment makes your heart skip an unexpected beat. “Alright, I’ll let you go now,” he says, smiling out of the corner of his mouth. You nod, trying to calm the beating in your chest as you say your goodbyes. 
“Okay. I’ll see you Saturday at my parents’ though, right?” He nods as he remembers. 
“Yeah, definitely. I will be there.”  
“Okay then, goodnight. I’ll see you soon.” You start to turn to get into your car. 
“Yeah, see you soon. Goodnight, Y/N.”  
With that, you get in and close the door, sticking the key in the ignition. You can still feel the spot Eddie kissed, and you let out a deep breath. “Well, that’s new,” You mutter to yourself, putting the car in reverse. It’s nothing, you think. You just didn’t expect it. It doesn’t mean anything. You keep trying to convince yourself as you drive home for the night. 
@corrodedcoffincumslut @haylaansmi @bebe07011
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fandom-frenzy · 3 months
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I haven't done one of these in a while. but we did our hallmark christmas bingo last weekend so it's only fair I let you know the results of this movie. which I don't remember the name of.
I'm fairly certain the lead was the same one as the winter palace (please don't watch it) so let's see if I can find it. okay, here we go: my christmas dream.
first bingo square: a horrible boss! ✔️ as in the main lead. she's a horrible boss. she is the manager of a department store, and the store is supposedly known for it's christmas displays that get unveiled the week of christmas (to bring shoppers back into the store). this is the 25th year of the store, so this is not a new concept. and a store manager would know this is a big deal. which means a store manager who is still coming up with the concept for the display three weeks before christmas doesn't know what they're doing. she also, once she starts to fall in love, stops doing her job✔️ and leaves all the time during the day to see the adorable child✔️during the busiest season of the year, leaving her best friend/assistant manager to do all the work.
the leads hate each other at first ✔️because he was hired to do some sort of handyman work, didn't finish on time, and was getting fired by the guy who hired him. in the course of this he spilled paint on her dress (right before meeting the big boss!) so she wasn't happy. the other employee tried to then bring her into it to say the hiring/firing was up to her and she said no, it's up to the guy who is doing the firing. so main lead was angry at her for not saving his job.
aforementioned child✔️who wants to ask santa to make his dad happy. eventually this turns into "make his dad and his new bestie the store manager get together" ✔️(alas his mom is not dead, only divorced and in australia. we definitely debated for a while if "she went to australia" was some sort of euphemism like "the dog went to the farm")
christmas tree shopping✔️
she has no christmas spirit.✔️unclear if it's ever actually found though.
her one goal in life is to manage the new store that will be opening in paris because she went to paris once and "it felt like home". having an amazing display will get her the job.
she ends up having to work with main lead ✔️because he's a good artist and so can be creative for the display
they don't go with some clever play on 25 days of christmas utilizing all the old decorations from all the old displays showing the history of the store, but instead decide to do a theme of christmas in the town.
the store owner shoots this down because "it doesn't have anything to do with the store". after some heartfelt advice from an old guy✔️they decide to recreate the first display from the store before it became the owners, to show her her own history and what her dream was. which meant it also had nothing to do with the store because literally no one would know except for the old people who had seen that display 40 years ago, but the store owner knew and that's all that mattered
she must fly out on christmas eve✔️to get the store ready
the child is distraught
but surprise! they are now her new home✔️and she made up a new role at the company so that she can stay
2/10 ultimately forgettable and if you work in business at all you will be triggered. all of us 30-somethings yelling often at the tv because she was such a bad boss
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lassodreams · 11 months
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So as we know Zach is in New Zealand until September. Before we dated I used to be a whore lmao like having 3 guys on rotation having sex 4-5 times a week. When Zach and I started dating it went to 1-2 times a week and then we're he's away at school I only see hime once a month. Now I'm going on 1 month, no dick :( so sad for me. I really enjoy sex and even as an ~emotional woman~ I never get too attached. Casual is okay with me.
Instead of cheating I'm just going to fantasy about this one guy who lives in my neighborhood, who I keep running into. The following is a false situation. The only things that are true are how we get and when I saw him again (I did not share my phone number with him). Lol for legal reasons I feel like I need to state that.
One of my favorite antique stores is closing, they have been in the city for 28 years and the owner decided to sell the building. This was the last weekend they were open and it was also my payday weekend. I budget $50 to spend on whatever I wanted. I put on a red polka dot dress that was a halter top and a white cardigan and walked out to the bus stop. My dress was long and it was windy, I sort of felt like Marylin Monroe but I had biker shorts on so I wouldn't flash anyone. I held my dress down while waiting for the bus about 10 more minutes.
A guy was walking over, wore all black, 5'11, dark blonde hair and a five o'clock shadow. He was attractive. If say he's in his mid to late 30s. He sat on the bench I was standing next to. I was reading all of the event posters to see if there was anything that looked worth going to.
"I hate working nights, but ya know gotta make money" he said, his voice was a little raspy but not like a traditional Pittsburgh accent.
"oof nights do suck, I hope it's not slow for you" I replied.
"no, it's actually going to be one of our busiest days"
"well then it should go back fast."
"I hope so, I also work as a carpenter most days but this is the season to make money because I don't like to work in the winter time."
God I wish it were me I thought, im living from paycheck to paycheck.
"good for you" I said with a smile I wasn't sure how else to contribute to the conversation.
"you smell good, I like that perfume and I see you took a shower and all that jazZ, where are you headed off too?"
I felt myself blush, my boyfriend can't smell so he never compliments me and I get gifted expensive perfumes from my parents.
I laughed, "yeah all the jazz, thank you--"
"of course, you're welcome"
"I'm heading to an antique store in the strip, they are closing and having a huge sale so I want to see what's going on"
His eyes got big when he looked at me, " oh my god, that one in the strip is closing? If I would have known I would have gone! I like collecting mid-century things"
I smiled, "that's so cool! I collect Jeanette glassware and the occasional wedgwood."
"I live in the towers and have an extra garage space for my collections plus when people move out they tend to leave a lot of cool things behind and I just take those"
"oh good to know, I am moving in August maybe I'll see if there's something I want."
"where are you moving to?"
"oh uhhh just a half mile away from here, there's an apartment with a balcony"
"I'm Scott by the way, and you are?" He stuck out his hand. I saw that we had a wound on his thumb
"My name is Meg" I shook his hand, he had a firm grip.
"Pretty name" he got up and that's when I heard a bus rolling up. 75, I was waiting for 87. "Well this is my bus. See you around."
"Bye Scott, have fun at work!" I smiled and waved. He looked back at me and smiled. He got on and the bus drove off.
I was smiling, men don't approach me often and so I felt giddy. I'll probably never see him again but nice to meet someone in town.
--
Thursday rolled around and I decided it was going to be in the 60s today I will wear a skirt and a long jacket. I missed the first bus so I had to wait for the next one at 7:13. Even though I am wearing a long jacket I'm still afraid of flashing people when though I do have booty shorts under so it's not like anyone will see my hole. Lol
I pick up a free newspaper to see what is happening this weekend. I looked up a saw a white pick up truck slow down and roll down the window. Oh God a cat call at 7am, I'm too old to deal with this (I'm 25 lol). I see it has supplies and tools on the back as well.
The truck comes up to me, I recognize it's Scott.
"Hi Meg! How are you!" He says in the passenger seat and a big grin.
I smiled back, "getting ready to go to work Scott, how are you?"
"Much better since I get to see you this morning."
"you're so cheeky"
"I bet you like that about me." And sure he was right, but I'm dating someone so I can't just agree. I smiled.
"meg, what are you doing Friday? Give me your number." I mean my bf is in new Zealand. I don't have any plans with my girl friends...is it wrong to want to make a new friend? Probably because we both know this flirting. But I enjoy the validation, I rarely talk to my bf. I know I'm in the wrong and yet I find myself giving him my phone number.
The light turned green, "I'll text you. Dress something like you are right now." He looked me up and down and waved as he rode off. I blushed and waved back.
Fuck, I'm in trouble.
Although I'm not all of the blame, this skirt makes my boyfriend go insane. He can't keep his eyes or hands off me. I love when he undresses me, he put so much care into appreciating my body. He's so gentle. I miss him.
After work I walk to the bus stop and I see three guy behind me. This time I don't have a jacket on. I check my make sure my skirt is pulled down and look back at them. All of their hands turn down and they look so guilty as if they weren't playing attention to my hands running over my curves.
Maybe it's just my whore mentality but every now and then I enjoy being looked at like a piece of meat. Especially corporate men. They all had hands in their slacks, one looked up at me and made eye contact and immediately looked down. God, I want to be fucked so bad. I need to go on a walk when I get back.
-- for clarification and legality the following did not happen--
3:05pm.
Unsaved number text me "Hi Meg, this is Scott. I'm thinking dinner at J. Tambellini maybe gelato after, and if desired a night cap at my place."
I'm wet already, what is this guy reading my mind? Italian, gelato and walkies and drinks?? That's all I need to be a happy girl. I need to control myself. I have to tell this guy I have a boyfriend, a good one, he just...far right now. I close my phone. I'll text him when I'm on the bus to back home.
4:15 on the bus.
"Sure, I'll be home around 5:15pm, what time is dinner?" I sent, that looked detached right? Like ugh sure whatever, right? God I can't believe I'm over thinking a tone of my text. I taught myself better than that. I didnt save his number.
I look down at what I'm wearing, it's cute. Red two piece with a black cardigan. But the restaurant we are going to see nicer. I'm probably just going to wear my black date night dress that Zach loves.
" 7pm is the reservation do you need a ride? I know you take the bus. Just let me know I can come get you. Don't worry I don't drive a truck." He texted me back 2 minutes after. I cannot give this man my address. Also bold of him to assume I just ride the bus bc I don't have a car. It's actually that I have a car but hate waiting and paying attention in traffic. Especially bc I travel during rush hour. Nice to know he doesn't drive a truck. But the restaurant is a 10 minute walk and I'll be fine. I will be a little chilly so I won't sweat, the streets are well lit too.
5:15pm I get home.
"thanks Scott, don't need a ride. See you then." I texted back . Oh and ps I have a boyfriend. I should have said this but I catch myself shaving my legs and trimming everything else. I'm delusional. And I believe in karma. My boyfriend doesn't deserve this. But nothing will happen...right?
I set an alarm for a 45 minute nap. Before I shut my eyes I send my boyfriend a quick miss you and love you message and some memes. It's Saturday afternoon and I know he's going hiking with his friends over there so he'll be busy. I send him a picture to show him how hot I am. My eyes and face are from a 90s inspired makeup video, he loves that look and my hair is natural but half up and it frames my face perfectly. Kiss kiss I caption it.
6:50pm I wake up. With heels one it will probably take me 15-20 minutes to walk there. I'll be late which I hate doing but I want to make him nervous. I'm so evil. I see a text from him and send a heart. He asked if I was on the way. I'm sure he will understand.
I walk making sure I hold my skirt down. I'm wearing shapewear this time and there this cute lace that is at my mid thigh to smooth out my whole look. When I sit down it saves around the edge of my dress. I know a lot of men like a little tease.
I get to the restaurant at 7:05. Scott is sitting at the patio with two chairs next to each other facing the street as if we will be people watching tonight as well. I see he has flowers, hydrangeas I might add, blue and white ones, my favorite. God, maybe if I just give him head it won't count.
"Meg! Hi! You're here. Did you walk? You look amazing!" He said is raspy voice pulled on my heart strings, I love men who are expressive. Stoic men are great in anime but not in real life. He grabs my hand and kisses it. Our eyes meet. He smiles, I feel myself blush. His lower hand gently rests on my lower back and he guides me to my seat.
"I've always wanted to go here" I said, " just haven't had the time"
"I'll be sure to show you a good time then for your first experience." He smiled, I noticed he hasn't let go of my other hand. His hands feel rough compared to my smooth skin. I feel the callous as he's tracing my fingers.
"I don't want to break your heart," I said, he gave me a questioning look. "I can't eat gluten, I don't want my tummy to hurt" I said in a childish way.
He laughed, " well respectful I have no idea what that means but I know the chef so I'm sure we can get you something."
Our waitress came over. He order escargot as our appetizer, I was surprised not many people like snails. And ordered a bottle of French Sauvignon Blanc. God, this man is speaking my love language. When he left he looked at me.
"You don't have to eat the snails, it's one of my favorite dishes here. I hope you do like white wine." He smirked.
"I like snails and Sauvignon Blanc. You got lucky this time." I smiled.
"oh" he held the flowers toward me, "I got these for you. It was the closest flower that compared to your beauty."
I didn't want to tell him they were my favorite flowers, his ego is already at the amount I like. " Thank you, that's so sweet of you."
The wind blew and I smell a hint of cologne. If my nose serves me right that Ralph Lauren Polo Black. I hope he's got a back up tonight. This Man deserves to be fucked.
"now you are the one the smells good, is that Ralph Lauren?" I asked, tilting my head a little and gazing into his deep green hazel eyes. He smiled, "it is actually. I wanted to match you on your level of class."
I laughed, "Don't mistake me as a classy girl. I can be silly too."
Our waitress came over with the bottle of wine and showed him the label, he approved. She was about to pour him a glass.
"May I have a sample before I commit?" I asked. She poured me about two shots of wine. I swirled and smelled and notice there was a lot of legs. It was crisp, refreshing and a lovely flavor palate. This was a dangerous scene.
"Is this one okay?" She asked looking a little panicked.
"it's lovely, perfect, thank you so much." She poured both of our glasses. And set the bottle in between us.
"I'm guessing you drink wine often then?" He asked raising his glass.
"yes, I'm also just...uhh... particular in what I drink. I prefer old world wine compared to new world." Our glasses clinked.
"To wine and new relationships" he said.
"To wine and new relationships." I agreed with him. Our escargot came out, I haven't eaten it in a while. So I watched him and did the same. We started talking about collecting things. He also goes to the goodwill and gets a lot of wall decor there. His ex comes over every now and then to see the dog they have and apparently compliments him on his taste. He found this mid century kitschy bowl that he found and a painting over his headboard both at Goodwill. His ex...so he is also attached to someone else. That's a good sign for me.
"my ex also collected things when we were moving just like you."
I smiled, "I know it's a bad habit but it was only because of the sale."
Another glass of wine was poured.
"I think it's an endearing habit." I wonder what his ex looked like. Similar to me? I do that too. Look for people who remind me of the one I first fell in love with.
"to be fair I have gotten rid of a lot but I am a collector"
"I understand, like I said my second garage is filled with antiques and china. I always make sure it's organized too. We should go see it afterwards." He said putting his rough hand on my inner thigh rubbing my knee. I'm surprised we aren't getting a flood warning. I'm soaking. We looked at the menu. I should get fish. That way I will get insecure about the smell and won't do anything stupid.
"What do you get here?" I asked him flipping my hair back and resting my hand on his shoulder rubbing his shoulder and dancing on his collarbone. He smelled so good, intoxicating, forbidden.
"usually whatever the special is. But she didn't say so I was thinking of getting the handmade mafalda Giancarlo. What can you eat?"
"I was just going to get the summer salad" I said without thinking, what happened to my fish plan??
"oh so you can't eat the pasta?"
"unfortunately."
"well maybe a steak or chicken or veal would interest you? He makes it perfectly. I promise. A Scott guarantee."
I smiled, "I promise I'll be okay, salad is perfect." He nodded.
Our waitress came over and he order for me and made sure to no gluten, that was nice. Cute but not necessary, there was no croutons on the salad. Another glass of wine was poured.
"How often do you come here?" I asked
"I used to work here, he taught me a lot. Now I'd say once a month. Usually just for pick up though. I don't enjoy eating alone in public." So he knows how to cook...that's a plus.
I felt his hand move up and flirt with the edge of my skirt. I gasped a little. He learned into my ear and whispered, "I see your sensitive." I felt myself blush, with the wine, his smell, the perfect weather. I succumbed to temptation. I wanted to fuck him, hard. The type of sex that makes you question God's existence and your own purpose. He kissed a corner of my jaw. If we weren't in public I probably would have moaned.
"So you think another bottle of wine or..?" He asked.
"I wouldn't mind having a red, a cab would be great."
"You understand me, Meg. I like that." He smirked and signaled for a waiter. A different one came over and went to go grab a Cabernet Sauvignon. A perfect pairing for my salad. Scott made sure it was Italian. That was nice of him. The waiter took the bottle away and our glasses and brought us new ones with wine in them and set the bottle down.
"So you don't work at all in the winter?" I questioned.
He laughed, "Well I'll say this. I don't need to work everyday but I pick up odd jobs. Travel. Spend time with family. How about you?"
"I work in corporate and unfortunately make work the validation of my life."
"that is unfortunate, pretty girls shouldn't have to work." He said removing his hand from my thigh and putting a hair strand behind my ear.
"I'm not sure I can stay in the house and craft all day. I'd get bored."
"I'm sure I could find a way to entertain you." His hand slid under my skirt. His thumb messaging close to the warmth.
I should tell him, but God I want to be touched.
His hand goes back up to my knee. I'm so flushed right now. Our food is being set down and another glass of wine has been pour. 4 glasses already? And I have to walk home? I'm setting myself up for trouble. Wine makes me so horny already. And now I have this man treating me and touching me the way I want and crave. Nothing will happen. You are better than this.
"oh my god, yours smell so good." I grab a fork full of salad.
He slowly removes the fork from his mouth. I wish I was that fork. My salad is delicious. The leaf's are crunchy and smooth and flavorful, it truly tastes like summer.
He tells me a story about growing up in downtown Pittsburgh and how different yet same it is. He said that liberty Ave used to be filled with sex shops and porn videos, he and his friend would sneak peaks walking home. His mom would always yell at them. He wasn't sure how she knew but she knew. And I replied mom's just know. We clinked our glasses and a laughed, mom so always know.
Towards the end of our meal I notice he had a little bit of sauce on the corner of his mouth. I grabbed his chin, "Stay still" I whisper. He froze. I licked the sauce and gave him a kiss where it was. I saw the goosebumps on his arms and I wasn't sure this that was the wind picking up or me. He grabbed my thigh.
"Your going to be trouble for me, aren't you?"
"your favorite worst nightmare, probably." I replied.
Final glass of wine was poured.
Scott asked for the check, "So how are you feeling? Gelato? If not I have some at my place we can eat later. We can check out the antiques in my garage."
What if I just blew him in the garage?
"ummm" I really should have said something. But also maybe he would give me antiques. God I'm such a whore. But I love history. "can I run to the restroom quick and then we can go see antiques?"
He grabbed my hand, " Of course, it's through the door to your right" and kissed it. His lips weren't chapped. Zach's are an I always have to remind him to use chapstick or something. It's not fun kissing chapped lips, it hurts. I stand up slowly. I am drunk but I am not a fool. I make my way to the restroom, hopefully I looked graceful. Well maybe when I get out he will have left because he decided that I remind him too much of his ex and he needs her now. And then I can return to my apartment. Faithful.
I take my rings off and put them in my purse. I check my purse, wallet with ID and cards, phone, keys, and lip gloss and my saving grace: baby wipes. I piss. And stretch, okay just for antiques nothing else. Your mother didn't raise this way. But then I thought. My mom knows that I'm kinda in love with someone besides Zach. And she's just like no worries, you're young it's okay. And that's probably what she would say too. God, meg, now here you are justifying and assuming. Get a grip.
I clean myself up, put on some deodorant and a little refresh.of the perfume. And walk out.
He's waiting outside by the gate. He looked so handsome. A knot Polo, probably a good will find, with slacks and brown leather loafers. His hair was styled. He looked down at his watched and pressed a button.
"I set the timer for 5 minutes and then I was going to check I'd you were alright." Oh God that probably means I wasn't graceful going to the bathroom.
"oh, thank you. I feel better." This is true. Being full of liquids and good food. I needed to get something out. He held out side hand and I took it. We walked to his apartment. About 5 minutes.
"Wait, this isn't your antiques are?" I said. Frowning.
he laughed, "Don't worry I promise you'll see them. I have go up to my apartment and get the key."
Oh, I should stay down here then.
"is it okay if I stay in the lobby? I can't to elevators right now." This was a lie. But I cannot be in a private place with him...though I want to.
He kissed my hand again, "don't miss me too much then"
I was suddenly cold, his warmth left me. I looked around the lobby. Much better than my apartment....which did not have a lobby. It has some work stations, art fixtures, pretty lights, funky chairs. I wonder how much rent was here..and I'm pretty sure he has a 2 bedroom. He worked hard for it, that's for sure. I felt like Lana. In love with possibilities but faithful to herself.
I felt a hand and wrap around my waist and pull me close. Scott lifted my chin to his attention, he smelled so good. I wanted to mess up his hair. "Did you miss me?"
"Every second felt like an eternity." I said, on autopilot. How cheesy, me admitting that I miss a man of any sort. He kissed my nose and grabbed my hand. "Let's go then"
We walked down a hill, next to the building. And into the garage. It was so wild to be inside of here. Outside it looked grunge, no windows. But inside felt like I was inside a car show. I wondered which one was his.
"my car is on the floor below, in a private section. The garage is just right here." There was a row of 5-8 storage looking unit. I was nervous to go in. A private and small place is not where I should be with him. He opened the door a led me in.
"Oh my god" I said, he was worse than my mom. Lots of collections and bowls and china sets. "Dude! This is so cool!!" He really did keep it clean and organized. He had so many colors and eras. I was so impressed. He also have a lovely green couch. This area felt bigger than it was on the outside. I let go of his hand and walked around the shelves. I heard him sit on the couch. This space was climate controlled too.
"Scott, you have an amazing eye." I said looking to him through the gaps.
"thank you."
I spun around the aisle. Ugh I wanted everything! This is a new goal of mine now. To make money and be still organized. I returned back to Scott but didn't sit down. I was wearing shapewear, yes, but it has a purposeful crotch hole big enough to do anything without take anything off. That's where I probably made my Mistake.
"Come, sit down with me, Meg, will you?"
I went to sit in the middle section and he moved over and guided my legs and hips to where now I was sitting on top of him, facing him, legs straddled on both sides of him. His hand rested on my lower back, messaging. My arms wrapped around his neck. He was eye to eye with my cleavage and a golden cross. He kissed it. I let out a deep breath I didn't realize that I was holding my breath. I looked around to see if there was a camera or something.
"Don't worry, I won't fuck my girl here. I just want to be close with you." He said placing his hand on my jaw and guiding it to his attention. I felt myself get wetter with each moment. My girl? Me?
I relaxed my hips on top of his cock, I felt it pulsating beneath his clothes. I was going to be in trouble. My trace his ear, down his neck and on her collarbones. His arms were study and tones.
"So you're telling me there is a camera in here?" I leaned into his palm.
"Yes, I gotta make sure my things are safe." Makes sense. But it would be kinda hot to fuck in here with a camera even.
So I asked, "well, who monitors the footage?"
"Now look who's the cheeky one is now," he smiled and kissed me deep. I felt his hand grabbing my ass and controlling my hip movements. His other hand made it's way to my breast. I felt my nipples getting harder. He tasted of wine and desire. I ran my hands through his hair, he moaned. I kept kissing him only breaking for small breaths. His hand made it's way to my long hair, he grabbed it and pushed me in closer. His other hand went to my neck and turned my head and he started to kiss down the side of my throat to my chest.
"you said you couldn't go on an elevator but I can tell you want to ride."
"I lied" I said
"about which part" he asked kissing my wrist. I grabbed his hand and did the same thing. I started suck on his finger.
"Fuck, meg." I felt his cock jump, like it was going to break the zipper it's contained behind.
"I can go on an elevator, but I'm allergic to dogs." I said moving his hand down my dress into my bra.
"hmm, so it's good news that I don't have the dog this week? And that I cleaned?" he said gently rubbing my breast and pinching my nipple. I left out a soft moan.
" I guess that makes you the luckiest guy in the world."
He smiled and pulled me in for another deep and longing kiss. My lips felt plump and I felt dazed. He kissed me as if I was the one he's been looking for, as if I was his girl forever.
We made our way to his apartment. No kissing or touching on the elevator. I made him stand opposite of me and we just looked at each other, undressing one another with our eyes. He lived on the 10th floor. And again his apartment was clean. I will never let him come into mine, I'm so messy.
"Drink? Gelato? Your call."
"Water would actually be great."
"sparkling or still?" Wow maybe...I died and this is heaven. Everything is so perfect.
"Still is perfect"
He pours from a glass bottle he had in the fridge. He just like me for real. I looked around his apartment, it looked like an interior decorator was here. He had a lot of antiques here too, including that one bowl he was talking about when we first met.
Again his arm wraps around my waist and he hands me a glass of water. It's Jeanette glassware..not the style I have but another line. He kissed me forehead and I see him make himself a drink. I walk over to his bedroom, we exchange glances as I walk in. He does have a head board. I take off my shoes, leave them besides his. The carpet is rich and luxurious.
I lay down on the bed on my side. This duvet cover is a light olive and probably the softest one I have ever felt. It basically just called me poor.
"Enjoying yourself?" He said holding an old fashioned in his hand.
"Yes, you make one strong glass of water." I smiled and took a sip. I noticed he untucked half of his shirt.
He started walking over to me, rubbing my ankle, he took and sip and said, " I like how you look in my bed. I hope it happens more often." He was still holding a hard-on. I sat up and set my water down on the bed side table, he followed.
"Scott" I said in a sweet voice.
"hmm?"
"I don't think I ever said thank you for the meal it was--"
"oh there's no need" he started to say, I stood up and pressed my finger to his mouth.
"Don't break my eye contact." I kissed him and started undoing his belt. He hands went for the strings of my wrap dress. I looked up him and got down on my knees. I moved his pants down. I started to rub his shaft before I removed his underwear. I could barely touch my fingertips together when I pulled him into my mouth. He gathered my hair but didn't do anything thrusting or pushing. I spit on his cock and sucked on the tip and with every forward motion I went a little deeper until I was able to reach my hand at the base.
"Fuck ...Meg..you can't do this to me like that" he moaned
I sped up a little until I felt I got sloppy enough then I went back to just sucking the tip for a little bit and then deep throating him completely. He moaned and I felt him shake like he was holding back. I moved back and looked up and him and kissed his tip. I saw his heart melt.
He whispered, "Can I fuck the pretty face of yours?"
I smiled, still rubbing his shaft, he lowered my chin and said, " open wide" I did and stuck my tongue out. I felt him hit the back of my throat. I didn't have a gag reflex but I faked it, he helps with a man's confidence in bed. And I wanted to be fucked good.
"Jesus" he cursed. Still holding my hair white slamming the back of my head into the side of the bed where the duvet still fell. I wanted him to finish in my mouth but not yet. And I guess he read my mind because he stopped.
He held his hand out, "stand up, I want to show you something." I nodded and grabbed his hand to stand up. I reached the bottom of his shirt and he immediately pulled it off. He took off my dress slowly admiring the lace, and each seam. God I wanted him inside me. He grabbed my legs and lifted me on to the bed, I was sitting on the edge. He kissed me passionately and undid my bra one hand while the other was rubbing my thigh.
I grabbed his left hand and sucked the two middle fingers.
His other arm secured my back and move me further on the bed and him on the bed. He's so strong I thought. Those two fingers travelled down.
Before inserting he asked, "May I?"
I nodded and he slide inside me, "God your drenched." And kissed me. His thumb gently rubbed my clit. I felt myself lose control. He started kissing my neck, "Scott, fuck me please." His switch his finger for his cock. He was bigger than most, he entered gently and looked at me as if to make sure I was okay. And the truth was, I was in ecstasy. I started to moan a little louder with each thrust.
"Do me a favor and take a deep breath." He said.
I did and as soon as I was about to exhale he started to choke me. I think I came just from that motion. He kissed me and said "now exhale" I got such a rush. He hand went from my throat to my breast.
"That's a good girl, now you can have a taste." He put his fingers inside my mouth and we kept making eye contact. He started to thrust slower and whispered in my ear, "I'm going to cum soon... Where do you want it?" I wanted to say inside me, but I recently just got off birth control. And his current movements made me cum again.
"Scott," I gasped, "I want it on my chest."
He smiled, "of course." He went hard into me and grab my hand and held it has a grip the sheet. I felt myself going numb, I came again. He pulled out and finished on my chest. I pulled him into my mouth and he moaned deeply and collapsed to the side. We both were taking deep breaths. I giggle.
Oh God. I'm in so much trouble.
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vodka-redbull-daily · 3 months
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December 1st, 2023
Today was the day of the party, but I had planned to meet up with J-- early on in the day. since it already plan to take the day off work, I wasn't that bothered by waking up super early. I was up at like 10:00 a.m. because we had been texting last night and he said he was going to send me an Uber to come get me at 10:30. I explained to him that I didn't have a car. We've established this all the night before, but by the time I walk to the little grocery store that I had agreed to have him send the Uber to, it seemed like he completely forgotten all about it. he sent me a text asking if I still want to hang out that day almost at the exact same time the owner of the mechanic shop called me and told me I need to come down immediately to sign some paperwork. He told me he wasn't even going to look at the car unless I came right that second and was kind of pissed that I got in the car dropped off last night. not sure what he wanted me to do with it until then, but I told J-- to wait a minute and got an Uber to the mechanic shop.
 when I got there, I explained to them I was happening with the car and was quickly told that what I was talking about was impossible. I guess I'm just too stupid to know what the fuck was happening with my own car. I fucking hate mechanics. I have never had one that doesn't act like a complete dickwad. anyways, we went out to the car and of course it started acting normally. it does this word acts normally at first and then suddenly get all shaky and crazy and it won't go about 45 miles an hour. not to mention the steering issues I was having with it last night. I explained to him that it doesn't happen every single time I turn on the car but he cut me off and told me to just open the hood. I did that and him and his little buddy,  I guess maybe his Apprentice I have no clue,  looked under the hood for about 3 seconds. then, he came over and said that the car was too complicated for him work on. he basically said “ good luck fucker”  and told me to take the car off his lot.
 I told W---- about what had happened and how much of a dick that guy had been, but just drove the car back to my place. there was a really much I was like I do at that point. we agreed that I could drive the car up to his place for the party tonight and he would be able to find a mechanic that was actually for real going to work out instead of just being an asshole. better than nothing, but that means that I would be without a car for several days probably.
 after I get home, I explained to J-- that I could come over now so I sent an Uber to come pick me up. it was an hour long Uber drive and I hadn't brought any headphones since I recently thrown mine in the washer accidentally. I tend to leave them in the pockets of my clothes which means that they get fucked up in the washing machine. I didn't want to waste any of my phone battery just in case, so I was just kind of staring out the window for the full hour drive.  he lives really far away, really back behind some Lakes and tucked away in the corner of nothing. it looks a lot like retirement homes, which made sense cuz he was old as fuck.
 when I got there, I just kind of walked up this random set of stairs I found which I guess led to the back door. there were these huge glass windows and he came up and opened the door for me. he didn't look anything like his pictures. very skinny, very ugly. I think he might have also been on drugs or something cuz he seemed incredibly Spacey and was running around and couldn't keep one thought in his head at a time. I came in and sat down on the couch and he almost immediately asked if it would be okay if he could just pay me $100 and then send me back. apparently there was something going on with his kid in the school and he said that he couldn't focus on having sex and dealing with this at the same time. honestly, not that big a deal to me. more than a waste of time than anything else.
 what sucked about it though is that I had to sit with him the entire time while I was waiting for the Uber to show up. and J-- was so fucking disgusting. he had this big can of jelly beans I was just sitting on the counter and he would grab handfuls of them at a time and shove them in his mouth. that by itself wasn't that bad, But every time he chewed it sounded like somebody was slamming their fist into the counter. it was so loud and he chewed with his mouth open and it was so wet and Squishy but at the same time sounded like wooden teeth were cracking together. as far as I know he did have one teeth. it was so loud and so gross. not to mention he constantly had drool running out of the side of his mouth whether he was eating or not. I was honestly completely Disgusted and honestly so happy that I wasn't going to have to kiss him or make out with him or pretend to enjoy having sex with him.
 the Uber driver finally showed up, thankfully, but it was another fucking old man who couldn't figure out how to work his gps. he kept yelling at his phone and smacking the dashboard is if that was going to help. he also kept arguing with it, kept asking me whether we were going the right direction, and kept cutting people off. I'm surprised I didn't die on the hour-long Uber that it took to come home. I blocked J-- on everything immediately after because I am not going to be spending any more time with that drooling, saggy, ugly-ass mother fucker.
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ledenews · 5 months
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wewerehappymp3 · 7 months
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*attending a school open house/book fair and running into a college friend
*getting dinner w/ roommate and daughter after
*original owner of restaurant in the store working
*Labor Day conversation w/ family and friends leads to revelation levels of info about original owner of restaurant so I’m like freaking out at dinner the whole time.
*i tell everybody
*Taylor Swift at the VMAs living her best life
*i can’t go to sleep until 1:30 am because my adrenaline is GOING.
*coworker asks me about meeting someone out to dinner last night.
*suddenly remember my roommate hopping out of the car to say hi to someone she knows when we pulled up
*it was my coworker’s daughter and her family whom I have met before! I just didn’t recognize them.
ETA: oh yeah and 90 Day Fiancé season 10 cast list was revealed and I know one of them, knew about it this whole time but I didn’t want my family members’ NDA (who may make an appearance or two) to be broken of course.
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reasoningdaily · 8 months
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I always thought of the thrift store as a comforting place. Somewhere I could reliably and conscientiously take unwanted clothing to be resold and re-worn, or as the fashion industry has recently rebranded it, re-loved. In the process, charities do great things with the profits from reselling them: supporting troops. Saving pets. Curing cancer. But, like many of us, I never knew the full story.
Amid the explosion in online shopping and TikTok trends for fast-fashion hauls, thrift stores—and thrifting apps—have exploded in the last few years. In fact, in small towns like mine, brick and mortar stores have stopped being primarily a place to buy goods, but more often a place to dispose of them. According to one British study, we only wear 44 percent of the clothing we own. And when we need more room, how better to dispose of our old clothes than donate them to charity?
Unfortunately, it’s never that simple. Consider: only between 10 and 30 percent of second-hand donations to charity shops are actually resold in store. The rest disappears into a machine you don’t see: a vast sorting apparatus in which donated goods are graded and then resold on to commercial partners, often for export to the Global South.
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The problem is that, with the onslaught of fast fashion, these donations are too often now another means of trash disposal—and the system can’t cope. Consider: around 62 million tons of clothing is manufactured worldwide every year, amounting to somewhere between 80 and 150 billion garments to clothe 8 billion people.
We rarely see the networks of people involved in processing, reselling, and eventually reusing the things we donate—vast networks that encircle the globe like a ball of yarn, conveying our unwanted things to people in places like Afghanistan or Togo or Bangladesh. Like anything we put in the bin, they are sent “away.” In this case not thrown, but given.
I wanted to follow that yarn—tracing the movement of donations through the textile traders who ship them off, and then charting the surprising places those clothes end up. Which is how, on a spring day last year, I ended up on a flight to West Africa.
Saturday in Accra, the capital of Ghana. Market day. Shoppers pack the streets of the central shopping district, the roads clogged with stalls and street hawkers. When you’re looking for second-hand clothes in Accra, there is only one destination: Kantamanto, the largest second-hand clothes market in Ghana, and perhaps in West Africa. Every week, 15 million garments move through Kantamanto, where an estimated 30,000 traders are crammed into just seven claustrophobic acres. The majority arrives, via container ship, having been donated to charities in Europe and North America. From here, the clothes will spread across Ghana and across borders, into Côte D’Ivoire, Togo, Niger, Benin and beyond.
The second-hand trade in Ghana and across West Africa exploded in the 1980s and ’90s as Western charities flooded Africa with clothing, intended both as fundraising and aid. When second-hand textiles first arrived in Ghana, the local population had no experience of such wastefulness. In fact, they assumed the owners of the clothes must have died, leading to the Akan phrase still marked on one of the entrances to Kantamanto: Obroni wawu, or “dead white man’s clothes.” (In Tanzania, second-hand clothing is similarly sometimes called kafa ulaya, or "dead Europeans" clothes’.) But the donations, however well intended, have done as much harm as good. Unable to compete with the flood of cheap goods into Africa, local textile manufacturing sectors collapsed. Between 1975 and 2000, the number of people working in the textile trade in Ghana fell by 75 per cent. Businesses simply couldn’t compete on price with a product people were throwing away.
I’m here to meet Yayra Agbofah and Kwamena Dadzie Boison, the co-founders of The Revival, a Ghanaian fashion brand that specializes in upcycling second-hand clothing. Yayra, The Revival’s creative director, is a towering, elegant man with a penchant for wide-brimmed hats and wider-legged trousers. Kwamena, the slighter and the quieter of the two, with a neat beard and a taste in rings, is the brand’s head of design. Together, they are two of the most stylish men I’ve ever met, today both dressed head to toe in black, Yayra in one of The Revival’s T-shirts which reads: ghana upcycling department.
Yayra has been shopping at Kantamanto since he was a teen. “Growing up I wanted to look fashionable, but I am not from a rich family that could afford the kind of clothes that I wanted,” he explains. “So I started to trade or redesign stuff that I got from my brother and my siblings. Then my brother introduced me to Kantamanto, and I fell in love with the second-hand market.”
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Yayra Agbofah, left, and Kwamena Dadzie Boison of The Revival, a Ghanaian fashion brand that specializes in upcycling second-hand clothing.
A few years ago, Yayra started to hear traders in Kantamanto complaining about the declining quality of clothing shipments. He also saw it himself. “I used to collect vintage,” Yayra explains. Once upon a time, you could find gems among the endless reams of GAP hoodies and Next jeans: Alexander McQueen, Vivienne Westwood. Luxury fashion houses habitually slash unsold items, known as deadstock, so that it has no resale value. But sometimes uncut stock would find its way into the bales, providing an irregular supply of designer clothing to Accra’s eager fashion scene. In the last few years, however, the rising popularity of thrifting and resale apps has ensured that the highest-end clothing (and its resale value) is increasingly staying in the Global North, while fast fashion has unleashed a wave of ever-lower-quality clothing on Kantamanto.
The market runs to a timetable. On Mondays and Thursdays, containers arrive fresh from the port of Tema laden with new bales. The importers and textile dealers then sell the bales on to the traders. “The prices range from about $75 to about $500, based on where it’s coming from, and also the grade,” Yayra says. British bales command the highest price; this is partly due to better sorting, and the increased chance of finding unworn deadstock, which sells at a markup. "What comes in from America and Canada, you have a lot more waste." The bales are sold by garment type – men’s shoes, women’s tops – but the specific contents are a mystery, so after buying each bale, the traders will go through, valuing each item.
“It’s a game of luck,” Yayra says – one that more and more traders are losing. When the sellers can’t make their money back, many get into debt. Over time, as the quality has fallen, some have found themselves in a debt spiral, unable to get out.
Saturday is the busiest day of the week. It’s today that most traders open their bales for new shoppers, who can arrive before daylight in search of the best bargains. We, however, arrive mid-afternoon, hoping that the traders might have more time to talk now the crowd has thinned. The market itself is a maze of narrow lanes, held up by simple wooden struts and a tin roof. But its simplicity hides an entire self-contained neighborhood. Beyond the stalls, there are seamstresses; cobblers; dyers, who with a quick soak can restore a fading T-shirt or pair of jeans; a whole crew of men wielding flat irons (cast iron irons, heated over hot coals) to spruce up clothes. After hours, there are barbers and food sellers and secret bars playing uptempo beats, which throng with life when work is done. We wind our way down aisles filled with racks of clothes: Asos, Dorothy Perkins, Zara, some still with their charity shop labels on. The stalls themselves are tiny. The floor and gutters are carpeted with clothing.
Young women pass with clothing bales balanced on their head. They are kayayei (literally translated, “she who carries the burden”), porters employed by the sellers to move bales around the market. The kayayei, often illiterate teenage immigrants, are paid almost nothing; many live in the informal settlement of Old Fadama, a short walk from the market.
The majority of sellers in Kantamanto are women, and so Yayra and Kwamena respectfully call them "Auntie". We stop by the stall of Janet Oforiwaa, who has been working in Kantamanto for thirty years, since she was a girl working on her mother’s stall. She sells winter clothes: parkas, coats, tweed jackets. These might seem unlikely sellers in the heat of Accra, but have their own audience: fishermen, travelers and people in neighboring Burkina Faso, where the desert nights can be as cold as the days are hot.
Yayra and Kwamena have been shopping at Kantamanto for so long that they seem to know everyone. Traders holler in delight as they arrive, offering warm greetings and hugs.
Later, after showing me the market, Yayra and Kwamena invite me down to the headquarters of their own operation, the nonprofit upcycling business that they run. The Revival’s design studio, which is attached to Yayra’s house in a quiet Accra suburb. Like them, the place is perfectly styled: buffed wood floors, music playing, the room decorated with vintage sewing machines and photographs cut from fashion magazines. The studio is a treasure trove of thrift trash. Bales of clothing are piled all around: boxy suits, swathes of stonewash denim, a box full of men’s hats. On one rack Yayra has set up a little museum of uniforms: a police coat, Iraq war camo, US Navy jackets. A jacket from the US Army’s 307th Signal Battalion still displays both its insignia, Optime Merenti, “to the best deserving.” “We have big bags of these things, with names still on them,” Yayra says.
Every piece of used clothing tells a story of distance and time. An old leather American football helmet. A Pittsburgh Steelers jacket. A baseball cap from Mount Robson, ‘Highest peak in the Canadian Rockies.’ A whole rack of thick leather motorbike jackets, unusable in Ghana’s tropical climate. The Revival attempts to turn some of these unusable or unsellable items into stylish, desirable objects. ‘Our idea is: it’s here already, we cannot send it back, we don’t have the power. So we might as well just turn it to something functional here,’ Yayra says. The Revival works with the skilled craftspeople within Kantamanto – the seamstresses, tailors, dyers and cobblers – to help extend the lifespan of items that would otherwise be thrown away. Yayra takes out a bright red down jacket that they have resewn into a backpack. It’s an ingenious piece of design, both sustainable and surprisingly trendy. "Now we can use it, and it won’t end up in a landfill," he says.
The Revival is currently a non-profit, and each collection is small-scale and handmade. It sells its designs in pop-up shops in and around Accra. At the moment, the operation is tiny, and can account for only a fraction of the goods arriving in Kantamanto. “We realized that there’s so much waste, and that there is not enough demand for it,” he says.
Their response has been to find people who face clothing shortages, and to find ways to help them with waste. For example, in Ghana more than 80,000 fruit pickers suffer cuts and bruises while harvesting fruit crops without adequate safety equipment. ‘We have about 80,000 pineapple farmers in Ghana. And there is pineapple farming all over Africa and the Caribbean,’ he says. ‘Subsistence farmers don’t have the capital to buy protective clothing, it’s too expensive.’ So in 2020, The Revival developed a line of agricultural protective gear from discarded denim imports, which the brand has donated to farmers around Ghana. Yayra shows me a set of overalls which have been stitched to protect arms and limbs; the fabric itself is screen printed with a pop-art pineapple design. "We’re looking at producing uniforms for oil and sanitation workers," Yayra says. "And we’re looking at using the leather to make jackets for commercial bikers here, because a lot of them don’t wear protective clothing."
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Oliver Franklin-Wallis, right, reporting in Ghana.
Of course, the Revival can only save so much. According to research by the OR Foundation, as much as 40 per cent of the clothing arriving at Kantamanto immediately becomes waste. At the end of the day private garbage collectors, known as bola boys, will pass through the aisles pulling carts, taking away unsold items. But collection itself costs money, and so some traders don’t bother, instead leaving waste to accumulate in the aisle and the gutters. The waste is stunning.
Several times a week, the city’s collection trucks pick up countless tonnes of leftover textiles dumped in the aisles and gutters around Kantamanto. Previously, the waste was hauled to an engineered landfill in Kpone, outside the city. But the massive influx of textile waste in recent years created impossible conditions within the landfill, Solomon explains. “The textile waste soaks up water, mixing with the dirt and the silt, and binding them together like concrete,” he says. As a result, the landfill’s compactor crews were having to make three times as many passes to crush the waste down. The consequences have been stark. At Kpone, “the void space that should take thirty to forty years to fill, was full in less than three years.”
The new municipal dumpsite is more than an hour’s drive from the city, and run by a private operator that is unwelcoming to outsiders. Old Fadama’s dumpsite, is a 30 ft mound of garbage on the edge of a lagoon. We decide to climb to the top. Yayra covers his face with a handkerchief; I pull my coronavirus mask over my face to help with the merciless stench. The rubbish crackles and gives way beneath my feet as we climb. Polystyrene chunks, plastic bags, whole chunks of an old LG television, smashed eggs being picked at by flies – and underneath it all, ribbons and ribbons of clothing. Yayra and I comb through the trash, picking out labels: Zara jeans, Adidas sandals, a blazer by Polo University Club, a now-defunct Ralph Lauren brand. “Some days you come and see fresh piles of clothes,” Yayra says.
We wade to the summit, trying not to fall. From there, we can look out on Old Fadama. At the top of the mound a herd of gaunt and sickly-looking cattle are grazing on the garbage. Longhorns. One has a tattered clothing sack tangled in her horn. She looks at me, the bag flapping in the breeze like a white flag.
This is an adapted extract from WASTELAND: The Secret World of Waste and the Urgent Search for a Cleaner Future by Oliver Franklin-Wallis
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donovan03valenzuela · 2 years
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hermes crocodile birkin 9
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buoyantsaturn · 3 years
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hey just wanted to tell u ur really awesome and talented and i hope ur having a good day :)))
🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 thank u anon <3 i hope u are also having a good day!!!
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nobutfredweasleytho · 3 years
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YOU JUST DON’T LISTEN(F.W)
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Summary: Fred’s ex girlfriend writes him a letter to explain the how him using her wrecked her emotionally.
Warnings: angst, like a lot of angst, depressed Y/N, mentions of self doubt, a little swearing, mentions of parents not loving correctly, used reader. Let me know if I missed anything.
A/N: Major thank you to Gabriella @onlyfreds for being an amazing person and encouraging me to write whatever this mess is. I am forever grateful to you
(The font is terrible Im sorry im just getting used to working on tumblr)
Fred Weasley checked the muggle clock on his nightstand. 10:30 AM. His mom will call him for breakfast anytime now. He has been awake for quite some time if he can even count the 30 minutes he tried to sleep but couldn’t, not when every time he tries to close his eyes his mind and eventually dreams are clouded by her. By the last time he looked at her, how devastated she looked, How her face was wet from her tears and her eyes bloodshot red, but the thing Fred will never be able to forget is her voice. How raw and vulnerable she sounded while saying the most horrible thing’s anyone has ever said to him, but he can’t blame her, he has no one to blame but himself because in the end it was he who caused all of this and now its come to bite him in the ass. He hears the door open and his twin brother George enters.
“Mom says breakfast is ready and she wants you downstairs. She says she’ll drag you herself if you don’t show up again today.”
“Tell her I’m not hungry and I’ll come grab a bite later.” I really don’t feel like being surrounded by other people right now. Not in this pathetic state I’m in. Besides it will take me willpower I don’t have to not hex Ron into oblivion.
“Well she will not take no for an answer and I wont either. What’s done is done now and you’ll have to face the world someday so start with your own family because everyone down there is worried sick about you and the least you can do is show your face once in a while so they know you haven’t died of starvation or sleep deprivation.” George has worry written all over him and I’m sure the rest of the family has it too. I feel even more like shit for worrying them.
“Fine. But I come back here if she is mentioned are we clear?”
“We weren’t gonna mention Y/N anyway now lets go moms worried sick for your dumbass.”
Breakfast was going smoothly with Ginny and Ron being exited for Quidditch season, Harry and Bill discussing the unfortunate events of the Triwizard tournament last year, dad asking Hermione about a rubber duck whatever that is, but the most shocking thing is mom asking me and George about the joke shop products. George is doing most of the talking but still the fact that shes even asking is awesome. I was finally feeling peaceful this whole winter break until I heard a hoot outside the window.
“I thought it was Tuesday but since mail is here does it mean its Friday already? Oh how fast time is going.
“No Arthur honey you are right it is Tuesday, Bill or George can one of you see if that owl has the owners name attached to it and bring whatever letter he has here to see who is it for.”
Bill got up from his seat and went to the window next to the countertop to look at the mystery owl. “Do we even know a Y/N Y/L/N?”
The room went quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the owls hoot asking for its treat. Bill seemed not to realise this as he took the letter from the owl, gave him a treat and sent it on its way.
“To Fred Weasley from Y/N Y/L/N… Who’s Y/N is she the girl you’ve been crying over this whole time huh Freddie?” Bill chuckled but I just grabbed the letter. I had no time to even be mad at him because once again my mind fogs up with only her. I couldn’t help but feel relieved and the happiest I felt in a long time. She has forgiven me. Y/N forgave me. That has to be it. Why else would she send me a letter?
“I had a great time with you guys but there’s important matters for me to attend so I have to go to now. Thanks mom the breakfast was amazing as always.” And with that I sprinted towards my room, locked the door and examined the letter in my hands. It was a bunch of them in here. I went to mine and George’s worktable threw some papers that were on top of it to make room for these letters and carefully opened the envelope.
The first thing that I grabbed was a photo. It was a polaroid of me and Y/N on the Gryffindor common room. Happiness filled my heart when I started remembering this night. I looked at the back of the polaroid and surely enough there was a writing on it.
Fred and Yn on the Gryffindor common room at 1 AM the night she turned 17. Listening to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”. Picture taken by major 3rd wheel George Weasley.
Tears filled my eyes when I remember this night. It was the night I looked at her the way I always should have. Not as a replacement of someone who didn’t care about me.
The next one was also a polaroid photograph but this one I don’t remember being taken. It’s a picture of Y/N teaching me how to play the guitar. I can make up that we are in her dorm but not more as the picture is taken in black and white. I look at the back and surely this one also has a writing on it but the handwriting doesn’t look familiar at all.
A drunken Y/N accompanied by a even drunker Fred trying to play the guitar in the middle of the night. If I fail my charms exam tomorrow I’m killing you both but right now you two look adorable. Picture taken by Cho Chang.
The third one is an actual letter. I chuckle looking at the handwriting. Always so precise and not even one line out of place. I always thought Y/Ns handwriting always contradicts her hot headed persona but it’s actually really cute. I start reading the letter and my heart stops.
Dear Freddie,
I can only imagine the shock that receiving a letter from me would cause you right now especially after our last conversation.
But I have a lot to get off of my chest and I wont be able to move on if I haven’t said it all. Call me a coward but I was really scared to ask you to meet me so I can say it in person, but maybe that’s what I have always been. A coward. A coward because I get scared when someone wants to enter my life, a coward because I hate trying new things at the expense of failing, a coward because I should be able to confront people who brought darkness and sadness to my life.
But one thing I will admit Fred Weasley is that I wasn’t a coward when It came to loving you. It was the first time that I let someone come into my life and heart the way you did, and it will probably be the last. Throughout our “relationship” if you can even call it that as it was more of you customizing me to be her, to be someone I’m not. But that’s why you even talked to me is it, because I reminded you of her.
The signs were right in front of me and I feel stupid enough not to have seen them. But I guess people are right when they say love is blind. Love is such a funny thing to me as the first time I experienced the right kind of love was through you. But that was me creating stuff in my head. You didn’t love me no, you loved the idea of me. But I loved you. I loved you more than anything or anyone I have ever loved, I loved everything about you. But you just don’t listen. You don’t listen to anyone around you. Not George, not your other siblings, not Lee or any of your other friends for that matter, not your professors, but most importantly you don’t listen to me.
You didn’t listen when I told you that the love my parents gave me was only because I reminded them of my brother, the love my old friends back home gave me was one of interest. Everywhere I go no matter who I talk to no one will love me for me. I came to accept that until I met you.
You were funny and crazy and brave and oh so gorgeous. You were basically everything I looked for in… well everything. In a friend or in a partner it doesn’t matter. I thought you saw me for who I am. A broken teenager with issues but that at the end of the day was deserving of love. Oh how wrong I have been but no more wrong than you. You knew this but you just didn’t listen.
That makes us both horrible people now does it. Me who thought you were some kind of savior or some kind of saint and selfishly wrapped myself around your love and you who used me because I remind you of your ex girlfriend who broke your heart. But mine is excused I feel like and yours isn’t.
You would have kept me going for who knows how long just so you can live your imaginations you had for someone else.
Did you think about her the first time we slept together?
Was I not enough for you Freddie?
Was I too clingy too soon?
Is it my hot temper that gets the best of me?
So many questions will be left unanswered on my end because frankly, I never want to speak of you again. Sure I am deprived of love but I will not take it if its not directed directly at me.
I still care about you and will continue to support you and George on whatever you set your mind into. I was waking through Diagon Alley last week and saw this little store with a “for sale” sign. It’s right in the middle of Diagon Alley. I hate how my first thought went that you would have loved it but I seem to do that a lot recently.
I’ll get dressed and think would Fred love this skirt or this shirt.
I start applying lipstick and I’ll think will Fred love this color.
I start eating and I’ll think does this look good enough that Fred would’ve stolen a piece of it when I’m talking to Ginny.
I don’t even know why I am telling you this. How pathetic I’ve become clinging into someone that doesn’t want me.
Anyway I’ve probably bored you enough with my ranting but I wouldn’t have been able to move on unless I said everything that felt heavy on my heart. I also attached some photos I thought you’d like to keep seeing as now you can see yourself with Kayla without having the burden to be near me.
Say hi to your siblings and Harry for me.
Have a nice life,
Y/N
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lunaekalenda · 3 years
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hi! i have a request about jean and reader that are internet friends who have never seen each other in a real life. they just chat somewhere using nicknames. one day they accidentally meet irl and jean invites reader on a date. later they text each other about this date and both feel jealous. they are just sooo confused, cause they like someone irl, then why they don't want their internet friend to find a s/o? and happy ending, please? i hope that you take good care of yourself, love u <3
omg sure! i just got heavily inspired about this, i hope you like it!! take care of yourself too, anon ! <3
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jean x reader
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jkst is online
jkst is typing...
jkst: hi
Your phone rings at this last notification. You take your phone. The world-wide used avatar chat app sound comes with another message.
jkst: that sounded awkward lol
You unlock your phone and enter the chat, reading the two new messages. You type fast, a smile on your lips.
outofcoolnames: hey, Kir.
He told you his name was Kir. The first day you met, you received a little document with all the chat rules, in where you can't share your name, your city or pictures of you. It has to be safe for everyone. On the other side of the chat, Jean chuckles. He always does when he reads your username.
outofcoolnames: yeah like it sounded as if we were having a normal conversation.
outofcoolnames: what are you doing awake so early? it isn't noon yet lol go back to sleep.
Kir never, never messaged you before noon, and he always tells you he has been sleeping, so finding his message at 10 on the morning while you're working surprised you a lot. Fortunately, there isn't a lot of people on the book shop, so you can answer him calmly.
jkst: oh, you think you're funny? us adults have to wake up early for adult things. you'll never understand, child.
You don't know exactly his age, even when it is legal to share it on the chat, but you know he's on his early twenties. You raise a brow quietly. You tip fast while a couple enters the bookshop, with a little girl on their hands.
outofcoolnames: sure, geezer. now, if you let me, i have to work because i'm an adult.
You put your phone on your pocket, getting closer to the family. "How can I help you?"
The little girl tells you that she wants a "huge, no, enormous book about fairies with some dragons and a huge festival?"
You need almost an hour to let the girl decide between all the books you showed her. She finally decided for a illustrated book full of classic tales. You give it to her mother and, thanking the family, you open the door for them. When you close, looking at all the books you have to put back in the shelves, you hear an unpleasant sound followed by a deep moan. When you look at the crystal door, you can see a tall boy rubbing his forehead, his other hand on the door. You realize you hit him.
“Oh no, sorry, sorry.” you say, opening the door. He takes his honey eyes to you, his forehead a little red and his big hand rubbing the place where he got hurt. “Come in, please.” you say. You think you have a pomade inside.
“Yes, that was what I was trying to do, actually.” he jokes. You blush, you hit him and he’s literally joking about it. 
“Please sit here.” You show him a little sofa you have for kids to read. He’s not sure his knees will enter on the little couch, so he says he doesn’t need to sit. You run to the back of the store, taking a pomade from the bathroom. “Here, put this. It should avoid a bump.” He thanks it and puts a little on his forehead. You look at him while he does it. 
He has to take his light brown fringe out of his face to rub the pomade on his forehead. His hands are big, with bony and really long fingers that end on good-cared nails. His eyes are honey like color, and he has a mullet on the back of his head. He ends applying the pomade and takes his hand back down. He offers you the other.
“Jean Kirstein. Just in case you want to pay me a coffee.” You blush. After all, you hit him. Maybe you should invite him to drink something. Your half morning break starts now, so you take his hand.
“Y/N. And, casually, I have a break now. Where do you want to take a cup?”
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Jean opened the door this time and that made you laugh. He closed behind him and searches a free table with his tall body. He walks towards one.
“Sorry, I opened it, I still have war flashbacks.” You laugh and you both ask for your drinks. “So, Y/N, you should look more at doors.” you laugh.
“I know, I know. My bad, sorry.” you say. He shows a big smile.
He’s attractive, you can’t deny it. From his marked jaw to his smooth clavicle, seen through the open buttons of his shirt. Also, he has a really cute smile. He looks around, to all the people in the café. He smiles at you.
“So, you work on a book shop?”
Jean and you keep talking while you drink your coffees. He tells you he has been working on some art pieces lately. As you could suppose, he’s a painter. 
“I wish I could live just by painting. I work on an office all afternoons.” He says. The smile on his face fades a bit when he talks about the office. You listen to him quietly, his face quietly changing when you ask him more about his paintings. The break passes fast and he decideds to give you his number.
"You know. That way you don't need to hit me on the face with a door." you laugh and blush again. Is he going to forget it?
"Please, don't tell anyone..." you ask. He nods and leaves, a huge smile on his face. You feel butterflies.
Does liking someone feel like this?
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jkst: sorry, i disappeared today. i had a date.
You let the towel fall from your head while you read the message, the other towel around your body.
outofcoolnames: oh wow, a date.
You felt uncomfortable. Kir had a date. But well, you don’t know him. He has to search someone to date, after all.
jkst: jealous? :P
outofcoolnames: nah. i also got one.
Now is Jean the one looking at his phone with frown brows. He has no shirt on and he’s lying on his bed. He sits to read that message twice. You look at the paper with Jean's telephone number. Should you call him today? maybe tomorrow? or maybe send a message to let him know your number.
outofcoolnames: i think that silence means you’re jealous :D
Jean doesn’t know why, but he is. Damn, of course he is. He shouldn’t because you’re just internet friends, you didn’t saw each other. He doesn’t know how you look, what personality you have or if you’re even on the same country as him! 
jkst is typing...
jkst is online
jkst is typing...
jkst is online
jkst - last connection, now
You look at it. Has he just left? The hell? What is wrong with this guy? You let out a sigh and change to the other app. You introduce Jean's number and search him on the list, your lip between your teeth. You find him. His profile picture is a cute selfie of himself and a little cat. You message him.
y/n: hey, i'm y/n. this is my number if you want to adress it.
His answer comes in seconds.
Jean: oh, the door friend. cool, adding you.
That way of jocking, that way of tyiping. Why does it remember you to Kir? You shake your head. It doesn't. It's just that Kir left unexpectedly.
y/n: yeah i'm sorry, i hit you with the door. should we see each other another time?
Jean: sure. why not tomorrow? when's your break?
Wow, tomorrow. The guy is fast as hell. You check the other app, but Kir isn't online. You send him a quick message.
outofcoolnames: hi?
Again, no response, no connection. You go back to the other chat quickly. You answer that your break is tomorrow at 11:30, as it was today.
Jean: i'll make the effort to wake up that early. see you tomorrow.
y/n: bye :D
You go to sleep, but you check the other app a couple times.
On the next street, lying on his bed, Jean checks it too.
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"Good morning, y/n" he says when you enter the café. You search Jean. He's playing with his phone, moving it between his hands. You take a seat in front of him. You put yours on the table, side up. He does the same and you order some coffee. As the other day, you talk casually about a lot of things.
"Jean!" you hear a boy calling him. Jean looks around and finds the owner of the voice. He's a tall man, with a bun. Holding his hand, a black-haired girl smiles at Jean.
"Wow, Eren and Mikasa, the happy married couple!" Jean looks at you. "Could you excuse me for a moment? I promise I'll be back as fast as I can." He winks at you and gets up. You take your phone from near his. You enter the app. Kir has entered before, but he didn't answer you. You sigh and type.
outofcoolnames: look, kir, i... i was joking. i really like this guy and i think he also likes me but... when i'm here... i think about you. it is dumb because i don't know you. but i do. please, come back.
When you hit the send button, Jean's phone illuminates and sounds. The same sound your app has.
Wait a damn minute. Why did his app sound when you sent the message?
It has to be a coincidence. You debate between trying again and leaving it, but one more message isn't going to be a catastrophe. You tip again.
outofcoolnames: kir?
Again, his phone illuminates and sounds. Does that mean he is Kir?
You look behind you. Jean keeps talking with the couple. He said his last name before, it was something with a K, right? K, K, K....
Kirstein. Kirstein, right? He's not called Kir. It is a part of his surname. You enter fast his user. jkst. Jean Kirstein. Jean Fucking Kirstein. You look at him again. That's why his way of texting reminds you of him. That's why you think of Kir when Jean talks. Because it's the same person.
You like Kir. You like Jean. You like the two versions of the same person. Jean comes back quickly and he sits. He takes his phone. "Oh, did it sound?" he asks. But you can only look at him. You look at his hazel eyes. The eyes you wanted to see for so long, the lips you wanted to meet. They are all there. Kir is there.
"Do you use... ChatApp?" you ask, with quite voice. Jean smiles, blushed.
"I... I do.. I've met a person there. We chat often. Their username is really cool."
"The username is literally outofcoolnames." you reply.
"Yeah, but it gives like... What?" he looks at his phone. "Did you read my messages?"
You take your phone from under the table, the chat with jkst opened.
"No. I wrote them."
Jean looks at your phone. That's his ChatApp account. That's your ChatApp account. That is your chat. His head was a mess. He liked two people. But you're both of them? Is this fortune?
"You... You don't know how much I wanted to meet you." he sighs. He admires every single detail of your face. They all are like in your descriptions. He has been so blind.
"I also wanted to meet you. But Jean appeared before Kir. I liked Kir, but I assumed he had his partner, and you looked really interested..." you whisper.
"Do you believe in destiny?" he asks. He takes his phone to the table again. You shake your head. "Then, how do you explain that I fell in love with the same person twice?" he says. "Not once. Twice. With your personality through a screen, and with you all in your book store. This are signals. We belong together." you look at him. That's Jean, but he's also Kir. Your Kir.
The boy that made you feel so much through a simple screen. The one that is smiling at you now. Looking at you with sweet and hazel eyes. He uninstalls the app in front of your asking eyes.
"We don't need this anymore. Now we are face to face. And I hope it is for a long time."
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gyukult · 3 years
Text
from home 05 || jjk & reader
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title: from home  pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in later chapters word count: 7.5k+ prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: i was really excited to write this chapter and i still couldn’t get myself to make it longer... :( i suck...
please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed! taglist: @scalubera @strugglingartistno16-2 @taestannie @teresaisla @drumsofheaven @vampgguk @christiandosworld @madjammil @jungkookieyoongs @bananagguknim @shuttheelleup​ @yobroitsjayden​
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Stating that Jungkook was 'on edge' is an understatement.
His palms and armpits were sweaty from the moment he arrived at your apartment to grab you before going to meet your parents, despite the amount of layers of deodorant he has on. He's never had a real relationship before, let alone met any girl's parents, and he can't help but feel something churning in his gut. "Good to go?" You ask, and he merely nods, suddenly bashful because he feels like he is definitely not ‘good to go.’ "Alright, let's head out."
The ride on the bus to your family home is only 30 minutes away, and truthfully, he has never ridden on one before. Walking to yours, Hoseok, and his home were less than 15 minutes, the thought of taking the bus being the absolute last thing on his mind. 
Jungkook isn't exactly sure how he feels about the bus. The constant starting and stopping makes him nauseous; then the unsteadiness of having to hold the bars and handles throughout the vehicle all around seems unsafe. When there's an available seat, you sense his fear, nudging him cautiously, gesturing him to take the seat. "Sit," and granting he wants to offer it to you instead, Jungkook complies to the demand because he swears he's going to vomit. 
After getting off the public transportation that he vows to never take again, you guide Jungkook through a narrow road, he notices the neighborhood here was more concentrated than the ones in Busan; tightly knitted with homes that stacked on top of one another, side to side, and back to back. People hung their clothes on lines that stretch from apartment to apartment, piles of boxes stored on balconies, and plants resting on the borders with owners sitting idle on their porches, fixated on their hobby of people watching. 
Jungkook is known to be popular to the public, from magazines, gossip TV channels, social media posts, and the types continue on to the point that you couldn’t name them all on your own ten fingers. People don't often recognize him on the streets anymore because he's unrecognizable in regular everyday clothes but today, he learns that you're the celebrity.
The people in their homes say their greetings, making comments here and there as you entertain them with a response back, laughter dispersing in the air. There's an old lady that lounges on the steps of her home, a smile stretched so wide that her eyes disappear, all with a blanket laying across her lap, knitting away. "I haven't seen you around, I assume your mother is having a dinner party for the kids? I see you brought a friend!"
"Something along those lines," you retort indirectly, nose snug into your scarf. "You're not staying indoors? It's cold out."
"My husband keeps the heater on the home too high, I sweat like I'm going through menopause like I’m forty all over again, so I much rather be outside here. Anyways, I don't want to hold you up too long, but please come by for Christmas, I do have a sweater I knitted for you as well!"
Then there's a grandfather, another grandmother, and a couple who seems just a bit older than the two of you, and the list just goes on. Despite the whisper exchanges at the supermarket mentioning that you're intimidating, mean, and scary, it's obvious that you aren't or else you wouldn't be swooning the hearts of these strangers.
But there will always be an exception. Especially when the two of you run into a girl who looks close in age, hair dyed blonde with her lips painted fusion red. He could tell how curvy she was with how tight the winter coat hugs her frame, swaying her hips toward your direction as she eyes you both suspicious. "I see our town loser brought a friend."
"Mm," You nod, attempting your best not to amuse her, or else you’d be pouncing on her back by now. "Jungkook, this is Somin. A classmate of mine when I was in grade school." He bows in politeness, zipping up his jacket further while stepping closer to you. "Nice to meet you, Somin."
"Oh, no!" She gasps, a hand on her chest in exaggeration, completely flabbergasted by something he said. "Don't call me that. I go by Bella, since... you know, I am an American now. Being an American deserves the right name."
"You got your citizenship there?"
"No, but, I spent enough time there to know." She grins, shrugging her shoulders. Spent enough time there—you want to call out on her bullshit yet again, knowing she barely spent a month there before dropping out of school and coming back, but it'd be humiliating to mention that with Jungkook standing by, a stranger that she had only met a mere few seconds ago. "You said Jungkook... Are you perhaps, Jeon Jungkook of the Jeon Corporation?"
You furrow your brows. "How do you even know that?"
"Well, daddy invests in their stocks, of course." Fluttering her lashes, she manages to make her presence known to Jungkook as she moves in his direction. "And I saw his pretty little face in a magazine and couldn't help but admire."
Possessively, your hand slips into his pocket, intertwining your fingers together, causing warmth to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. "Well, great to see you, Somin. Jungkook and I have dinner plans with my parents."
"Whoa, wait, dinner plans?" Somin nearly exclaims, shifting aside to block your way. "Also, it's Bella, get that straight, will you? And why is Jeon Jungkook with you anyway?"
"We're dating," Jungkook interjects, clearing his throat. The words are still unfamiliar on his tongue yet he loves to flaunt them anyway. "I'm her boyfriend." He adds, tightening the grip on your hand as if Somin could see it. Her mouth drops open, unable to grasp onto the fact that you were able to land on a hunk like him. If only she knew how much knowledge of basic life skills he didn't have... actually, she might still have the same perspective. "There's no way. This is fake, right? You realize how rude she is, don't you?"
"No, it’s not fake, and well, kind of," Jungkook admits, scrunching up his nose at the thought. "But it's endearing. Wouldn't be as exciting if she wasn't always trying to banter with me, so I don't think I'd have it any other way. People mistake it for her honesty. I love a woman who can be true to herself and genuine with her words."
Just then, your mother peeks out of the front door of your childhood home, waving her arm eagerly, calling out your name. "Well, that's our cue. Thanks, Somin, for congratulating us on our new relationship. Hope you find someone yourself soon!"
"What—" Somin barely finishes her sentence before you're zooming past her, tugging Jungkook along. 
"I didn't know you had so many enemies," Jungkook says jokingly, a playful smile upon his lips. You roll your eyes before squinting them at him, squeezing his hand hard as he winces. "Now you know how little I care for them, watch out because you might become one."
Upon entering the home, Jungkook observes too many things at once. Your mother is in the kitchen, frantically maneuvering through the junk that your family has hoarded over the years, searching for whatever it is she needs for the task at hand. Your father sits comfortably on the couch, feet on the coffee table with a controller in hand, dozing off with a combination of quiet and loud snores escaping from him. As a family home, Jungkook believes it's small considering that you had mentioned previously that you had two other siblings. To think that your parents are still living in the same home they grew up in is amazing to him, knowing that his parents moved at least five times within his youth while you only stayed in one home.
"Uh, hello," He greets your mom, bowing as she places her hands onto his shoulders, shaking him in excitement. She looks almost like a replica of you, except older and much brighter. "You must be Jungkook! It's so great to meet you, I'm so happy that my daughter found someone. She's known to be a bit... cold, so knowing that you were able to warm her up means that you're definitely special!"
"You make me sound like a bad guy." You hiss before your little sister walks in, in the midst of tying her hair up into a ponytail. She resembled your mother than you did, a delighted expression that matched exactly the one your mother had on. "That's because you are, and any guy who dates you seem to run away once they find out." She halts in her steps when she notices Jungkook's face. "Oh my god, you're that model."
"Model?" Your mother reiterates, glancing back at Jungkook and then your sister. "Yeah, yeah, that model in the new edition of Elle. He was in it—he's listed as one of the 10 most desirable men under 30. No flipping way, how'd you even get him to even date you?" She pauses before pointing at Jungkook with a suspicious look on her face as his eyes widened. "Unless... you need her for something. What's she offering? It can't be her body, she's not sexy... is it her brains? You heard about her—"
"Miyoung." Your mother says sternly, interrupting your sister. "Just because Jungkook is a model, it doesn't mean that your sister is incapable of being loved by a man like that."
"Actually—"
"Oh, hey. You must be the boyfriend." A taller male enters the room, his hair messy and lids hooded from waking up barely minutes before. He's still in his pajamas, a loose grey shirt and red checkered pants, but from the outline of his shirt, Jungkook could tell this guy was built. "I'm Daehyun, also known as their big brother. It's nice to meet you." Jungkook is in awe, hand extending to shake with Daehyun's. He knows he's straight, but even as a straight guy he knows a pretty man when he sees one. 
Jungkook was starting to pick up as to why your exterior was so tough. With a younger sister who didn't have a filter to an incredibly handsome older brother, of course as the middle child you had to protect yourself. "Uh, yeah. And that's my little sister, Miyoung, who basically just attacked me for all of my insecurities within a minute. Thanks, kiddo."
"No problem, Unnie." She grins cheekily, seated on the high stool. "Did mom tell you I was back home from college for the weekend? That's why you're here?"
"Something like that," you respond ominously, hanging up your jacket along with Jungkook’s. Despite her preceding interrogation, she’s chewing on her bottom lip skittishly. "More like she forced me to come. Well, she didn't say anything yet but I felt a guilt trip coming so I just decided that I would come instead."
"Typical," Daehyun scoffs, leaning against the wall beside Miyoung. He sneaks a glimpse into the kitchen where your mother secretly runs back into, resuming in her work. "She's been desperate to get us all back together since the two of you moved out. Remind me again why I'm the only one stuck here?"
"Because you can't find a job." Miyoung and you remind him in unison and he frowns. The interaction between the three of you is crystal clear evidence that you guys are related. "Well, geez, hurt a guy, why don't you? See what I have to deal with, Jungkook?"
With some time left until dinner, the four of you crowd at your small dining table, conversing away about updates in your lives. Miyoung is in University an hour away from home, residing there for an easier commute, and Daehyun stays at home with an ambition to find a job that fits his degree. Daehyun still dates from time to time but he admits that he can’t tend to his needs because well, his mother is a room away, and oddly enough, albeit Miyoung babbles on about other things, she’s silent about her love life. Neither Miyoung and Daehyun are able to hold a steady job, he observes, and he’s starting to pick up as to why you’re so adamant about keeping both of yours. Jungkook learns that everything seems to gravitate toward one of the two phrases from your siblings when it comes to finances and they are: “Mom can handle it,” or “I’m going to let Dad do it so I don’t have to.”
From what Jungkook can gather, your siblings seemed to have different outlooks on life compared to you—they still depended on their parents whilst you were already hunting for opportunities of your own before Miyoung’s age so you didn’t have to ask for money.
“Are you still upset with me about what happened a year ago?” Miyoung finally asks you, chewing on her nails nervously. It seems to be something she’s been holding back from you, Jungkook takes a note of the way her eyes were filled with worry. “Of course,” You reply nonchalantly, leaning back against your seat with your arms crossed. “How could I not be? But you’re my sister, so I can’t actually be mad at you.”
Miyoung begins to tear up— glassy gaze with her bottom lip quivering, in spite of the previous aggressiveness she presented when you first entered the house. Before Miyoung could get another word in, your mom comes in with a guilty expression on her face. She calls your name faintly, a pout upon her lips. “Can you and Jungkook go out and grab me a couple things before dinner?”
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Jungkook can’t get the question that Miyoung brings up out of his mind. In the middle of an aisle at another one of his mother’s grocery stores, your lips are pursed in thought at which brand of soy sauce would your mom like more. 
“What was Miyoung going on about?” He eventually asks, but he holds his breath in case you decide to sock him for querying you about something so personal. Strangely enough, you open up. “Miyoung fell in love with my ex. He told me they didn’t do anything but he was in love with her, so we broke up. I thought I was going to settle with him but— guess not.”
Jungkook’s eyes expand like a deer in headlights. “Your little sister is dating your ex-boyfriend? And they were in love with each other during your relationship? I would’ve given her an uppercut if I were you— are you seriously still buying the banana milk she asked for?” He’s trailing behind you as you lead him toward the drinks; your face brightening from the lights from the fridges. How could someone who lost their boyfriend to their little sister seem so put together in the first place? Was this was Hoseok was talking about that your men streak was horrendous? 
“Because she’s my little sister. At the end of the day, I want her to be happy.” Throwing a pack into the cart, Jungkook continues to push it while following you, mind still foggy and angry about the situation. Here you were, with a guy who you’d fallen in love with to the point of considering settling down, then finding out he’s been in love with your sister... he feels like this is all a fever dream and isn’t an ounce real. “You’re fucking with me right?”
You look at him with perplexity. “What do you mean?”
“This sounds crazy. You’re serious? Miyoung stole a guy from you and you’re just going to be the bigger person here and not do anything about it?”
“What am I supposed to do? Throw a tantrum? Get in the way of their relationship that is obviously blossoming in a good way?”
Jungkook pauses. Was this what it was like in another family? Or at least yours?
In comparison, he perceives that within his family, outbursts were everything. Getting attention and being recognized for any wrongdoing was immensely important— he knew that if he stole a girl away from one of his brothers, he wouldn’t make it out of the house alive. His mother, including father, would never forget it. The chattering would be heard through the grapevine amongst the housemaids, drivers, and employees of the company. Even news media outlets would dabble a bit into the family drama, adding fuel to the fire. He could never react the way you did, at least, he hopes he would, but realistically speaking, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it.
Yet, with you, it seemed simple enough. Sure, your heart was broken, but how were you going to be with someone who didn’t love you back?
“If you love someone, you let them go.” You say calmly when Jungkook doesn’t respond back. “Keeping them around for your benefit doesn’t solve anything. If he wasn’t truly happy with me, I want him to be happier with someone else. And if that person so happens to be with Miyoung, what am I supposed to do?”
“But... you’re not happy.” Jungkook declares with no hesitation. He recalls the time where you felt bad for him for not having the best upbringing, and he’s starting to understand the emotion that ran through you. “I’m happier now,” You concede, placing the last ingredient your mom has on the list for you to purchase, turning your back at Jungkook. “Now that I met you.”
His heart flutters at the comments, and he’s desirous about bringing up the topic of the kiss again. Jungkook resists the urge to because he could tell from the way your silhouette begins to quicken its pace toward the checkout line that you really didn’t want to talk about it. 
When the two of you arrive back at your house, your father is jolted awake. Jungkook greets himself to the elder man who only grins brighter than the sun—something Jungkook is trying to grasp where your grumpiness comes from— and instantaneously directs him to the dinner table where your mom has a ton of side dishes laid out with six place settings for you all.
During the meal, there was nothing but exchanging stories, laughter, and elation that swarms the room. If this was what family meant, Jungkook wanted it. And the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it to be with you.
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Nothing is working out for Jungkook.
This week, the pipe in his apartment burst. Something about— it’s winter and when it’s cold, the water freezes within the pipe and it expands the material, causing the pipe itself to burst, he doesn’t quite understand how the whole plumbing system works, but he knows that he can’t use the water in his apartment and has to go to yours and Hoseok’s for the week for a shower until the landlord can get it fixed.
Then, one of the deli guys called off because he apparently had the runs which meant that there was a shift change— Jungkook having to cover since whomever was working that day didn’t have the skills to do it.
Skills? Jungkook curses underneath his breath when he recites that word in his head repeatedly because he cuts his finger on the meat slicer as he winces, calling out your name. Coming to his side, you pull out the first aid kit and force him to sit down on one of the stools, tying elastic on a higher point of his finger to stop the blood from gushing out. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I just... I didn’t need to be put here, right? Someone else could’ve done this, I have no idea how to use a slicer.”
“I know,” You coo, wiping some of the antiseptic on the wound as he whimpers at the sudden sting. “The new shift manager panicked, she wasn’t sure what to do since the guy with the actual food preparation license is going to be here a bit late so she put you here. Not exactly the best plan.” After bandaging him up, you wash your hands underneath the faucet as Jungkook slouches in the seat.
Nothing really was going his way.
It doesn’t even stop there. Unexpectedly, his mother calls for dinner but you’re on shift, therefore you wouldn’t be able to attend. He’s tempted to down a glass of whiskey on ice, his signature drink, but when he opens the cabinet in his kitchen, he falters at the image of your face. Would you be disappointed if you saw what he was doing? And Hoseok? What would he say?
Retracting his hand back, he immediately slams the door shut at the thought of the consequences.
Dinner is the usual at the Jeon residence. Father sits at the end of the dining table, the typical beige cloth napkin spread across on his lap while in his usual work attire, glasses rested on the tip of his nose as he’s ready to dive in with a fork and spoon in hand. Mother is settled beside him, pretty as ever and calm in comparison to the hell that’s going to let loose in a couple minutes. The unknown? Who is going to blow up this time and who will they be comparing themselves to?
The answer? Jongseok and Jungkook.
Jongseok is upset to the point that he articulates every word with spit nearly projecting from his mouth to the opposite side of the room. The vein on his temple is stressed to the point that all Jungkook can think about is when it’s going to pop. “Why are you guys always babying Jungkook? You realize the kid is fucking working at a grocery store right? And not just any grocery store, either, but it’s mother’s chain.”
“Okay?” Father retorts, forehead wrinkling in puzzlement. “Isn’t he trying to prove himself worthwhile? Didn’t he find that job himself, despite it being your mother’s chain? He’s paying for his mistakes, learning basic life skills along the way, and even landed himself a serious girlfriend who can hold his hand through these tough times, since, after all, you’re the one who suggested we cut him off. If I’m being honest, I think we should give him access to our funds again.”
A scoff of incredulity comes from Jongseok. He’s a ticking time bomb in this moment; jaw twitching in frustration with the tips of his ears heated red. Even though he’s the target yet again, Jungkook is sober now, mind clear of the fog and the ability to defend himself for once. “I don’t get it. Why are you even mad at me? I’m trying here, right? You’re the one who wanted me to get cut off so desperately— and congrats, by the way, because I did. I had to find a job myself, one I’m not a fan of, and I’m barely making it by. I lost water in my apartment this week, cut my hand on one of those deli slicers, sprained my ankle on my way to work— and that’s only a portion of my bad week. Yet here I am, sitting at the dinner table with people who claim that they love me when you’re here flipping shit at father. What do you want from me?”
“For your name to be completely off the will.” Jongseok finally says what he has been actually feeling unperturbedly, not an ounce of affection in his tone with a gaze that could pierce through Jungkook. “You have nothing to offer to this family. Why we keep you around— I don’t know. Why should you have any portion of our estate and company assets when all you’re doing right now is working at the supermarket. Tell me, Jungkook, why do you deserve to be part of any of this?”
Jungkook hates how childish he’s being, but he feels like he has the right to. The flickering colorful lights and music booming through the speakers of the club are tuning out the words his brother exclaims at his parents, and the amount of alcohol passing through his lips are numbing the pain that tears through his chest. Your face pops up in his head; your laugh, your smile, and the comfort in the underlying messages through your tough love— he wishes that all of that was enough to heal the sting in his heart and fill the hollowness that his family left.
He doesn’t remember any of these people sitting at this table with him, even though they’re hollering in excitement that “Jungkook is back again!” The girl placing a hand on his chest with his arm around her shoulder isn’t you, but he knows that if it was, you’d be so displeased at how wasted he is. Honestly, this feels wrong. Nothing sits right in his stomach and when another pretty gal with her dress hiked up to the point he could see her thong from where he’s on the couch, he’s not even attracted to her. All he could think about was you, and that scowl on your face when he tells you about this night. He could hide it from you but he’s not going to lie to himself— if he wanted to improve for the better, it meant being straightforward and authentic. Jungkook came here to let loose because the events that occurred at the estate tonight was something he wants to forget.
Turning to the girl beside him, his eyes are hooded and vision is blurry when he asks, “What’s your name again?”
When her rosy plump lips open, she says her name but the voice that comes out of it is deep and oddly familiar. “Hyeri?” Why does she say it like a question, and why is her voice so low? Just then, a hand clenches the fabric of his shirt, pulling him up and he meets the proprietor of the response. Hoseok.
Hoseok drags Jungkook’s weak and frail frame out into the alleyway behind the club, fuming to the point that smoke could’ve been whistling out of his ears. “What the fuck are you doing here? And with Hyeri, of all people! I thought I told you to stop fucking around, dude! I-I thought you knew how much she means to me. Out of the people I’ve partied with— you were my actual friend.” He clenches his jaw before Jungkook could even answer, a fist tightening in his hand. “You’re such a fuck up, Jungkook. So much for a friend.” 
Then everything blacks out.
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His entire body hurts. His head is pounding, he can barely open one of his eyes, and his legs are so sore he can hardly shift on the bed— on a bed? He doesn’t have a bed. He has a futon but not a bed. Startled, he attempts to sit up against the bed frame, the other eye opening to skim through the room. 
He’s never been in your bedroom before, but the pictures of you graduating college hanging on the corkboard above your desk, concert tickets, Polaroids, and holiday cards thumbtacked beside them is all the evidence he needs to know it’s yours. Jungkook wants a closer look at them, he can scarcely make out the cute little smile on your face with your family in attendance in the picture, but when he puts weight onto his arms, he groans. Seconds later, you’re bursting through the door, out of breath and worry in your eyes. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Voice hoarse, he realizes how dry his throat is and you lean over to the bedside table to hand him the glass of water you had there originally. “Don’t move, idiot. You’re actually really torn up if you didn’t feel it with all that alcohol in your system.” Inviting yourself onto the foot of the bed, Jungkook frowns after he finishes the entire glass, much more dehydrated than he initially thought. “Trust me, it’s gone now. I feel every ounce of pain. What happened? I blacked out.”
“No shit,” you retort harshly, rolling your eyes at him. “You were drunk as hell, but you didn’t black out from that. Hoseok saw you getting all cozy with Hyeri and knocked the shit out of you. What happened, Jungkook? Why were you there in the first place? Did something happen?”
Reading the expression on your face, he fears for the worse but he doesn’t see any hint of dissatisfaction anywhere. There’s no anger, no resentment, no frustration— none of that. Just curiosity smeared across, genuinely worried about his well-being. “Are you upset that you found out I was there?”
“I was mad that Hoseok called me to come grab you, at first, so kind of, yeah. But if you’re trying to figure out if I’m disappointed in you, then no, I’m not. Old habits are hard to kill, so I understand that you’re trying to cope with something. I just want to know why you were there in the first place and why were you getting all lovey dovey with Hyeri—“
“I wasn’t getting lovey-dovey with Hyeri,” Jungkook exasperates, head falling back against the headboard, closing his eyes shut, interrupting before you lead the conversation into a lecture. “She was just some girl that sat down and claimed a spot next to me. I didn’t even know she was Hoseok’s girl.” There’s a pregnant pause in his explanation, and you don’t break off his train of thought. “I... I went because Jongseok called me useless tonight, yet again. It didn’t bother me as much as it did before, you know, before I met you, and it’s probably because I wasn’t intoxicated or the fact that I’m actually trying now and he still thinks I’m useless. He wants me out of the will.”
“He’s jealous that he’s the problematic child now, not you.” Making your way up the bed, you’re seated on top of the covers, settled adjacent to Jungkook. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re way more useful than you had been initially. I usually do the dishes at my parents’ house, mostly because I’m the middle child, but you did it for me instead. I consider that a huge accomplishment from who you were before.”
As much as he hates to admit how warm and fuzzy he feels inside just from that small achievement, it’s a resemblance of the time when he was younger and won an award for being most creative in his kindergarten class. How are you able to lift up his mood so easily by just saying a few words?
“I… is Hoseok really pissed?”
“A bit,” you reply sincerely and apologetically, even though none of this had been your fault. “He’s been in love with her even before I met him. She was all he could talk about, and I guess she finally gave him a shot, only to drop him a month later. I don’t know much about her, but I know she’s a gold digger from the stories he shared.”
Jungkooks face drops when his gaze meets yours. “Have you ever told him that?” You laugh—the melody that practically heals his wounds on the spot. “No, are you crazy? He’s blinded by love, Jeon, and any interference with that, I’m done for, probably cut out entirely from his life. Have you never been in love before?” 
He wants to say that he hasn’t, not until he met you, but you continue without expecting a response from him anyway. “Well, that’s just how he is. You could tell him a billion times that this girl isn’t for him but he’s never going to care about what I say until something actually happens.”
“I really care about Hoseok, though, and I want the best for him.” His doe-brown eyes are glossy, full of cherish for his friend. “And he cares for you too, Jeon. Just give him some time.” Quickly, Jungkook twists away, gaze avoiding yours as he clears his throat a couple times.
“Are you... okay?”
“Y-Yeah,” He says, choking up on his own words. “Hurts a little. Hoseok is strong.”
You furrow your brows. “Hey, look at me.” He doesn’t react. “Jeon,”
“Can... you give me some space?” 
Pulling your lips into a straight line, you contemplate whether or not to listen to his words or go against him. He’s been living in a home full of people yet still feeling alone, with no one to listen to his perspective on things. Maybe it’s time you change that.
Abruptly, you swing your leg over his thighs, hands cupping his cheeks just like you did that fateful night. He swore his heart stopped beating. “What are you—” There’s tears brimming in his eyes, you realize, with some escaping, trailing down his cheek. He sniffles. “You’re crying?” You’re stating the obvious, yet somehow it comes out as a question. “Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”
“I’ve never had a friend love me before, a friend who actually liked me for me and only wanted to spend time with me because of who I was, not who my family was. Did I really fuck up with Hoseok?” You frown, thumb rubbing against his cheek to wipe away his tears. Truthfully, you never really knew how to react when someone fell apart like this, but with Jungkook, it felt natural, the comforting. It might’ve been the sunlight peering through the windows of your room that made everything toasty, thawing out your cold heart, or it was just Jungkook. “Maybe. But I doubt he wouldn’t give you a chance to explain yourself though. I mean, yeah, you’re bruised all over because he really beat you up... but, I’m sure this evens things out. Plus, I’m your friend and I love you too.”
He sighs, shoulders plunging with his hands creeping up to your waist unconsciously, tenderly steering you to sit on his thighs. Swallowing at the feeling of his body flattened against yours, you’re attempting to shake your head from the dirty thoughts. Jungkook feels at ease, detecting the words come from your mouth, yet he wants more. He craves for more, especially since that night in Busan and he isn’t sure he can hold himself back anymore.
“I... What happened that night in Busan?” Lifting your weight off him, he only stops you by putting down more pressure to stop your escape. Despite being in an awful lot of pain, he still manages to overpower you in strength. “Please don’t avoid this. If Jongseok didn’t come to our door that night, it would’ve led to something more. I want to know, please, what does it mean?” Cheeks burning, you stare at the wooden headboard behind him, except Jungkook knows your next steps before you do because his finger is already on your chin, guiding your view back onto him. He doesn’t need to say anything because the look he gives you says it all, tell me.
“Okay, okay,” You cringe, the idea of talking about this makes your stomach feel queasy and want to recoil in dread. “White flag. I’ll talk.”
“Enough of this white flag nonsense, just tell me.”
Belatedly gathering enough courage, you spill. Although your heart feels like it’s jumping through hoops from suspense, you realize that you can’t hold yourself back any longer anyway. “I’m... attracted to you, alright? I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about you 100% emotionally, because I still feel like we’re on different pages here, but I feel like I kind of like you? If this goes any further, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.”
That’s... it? Admittedly so, Jungkook was hoping for more of a confession, something along the lines of, ‘I really like you, Jungkook’ but he’d have to settle for this. This was definitely a step closer to where he wants to be. “So... you’d date me, that is. There’s still an opening somewhere.”
“I-I mean, I guess so... why?”
“Because well, I can’t stop thinking about that night, and I know that for sure that I like you.” He discloses. “And if there’s even a bit of an opening, I want a shot at it.”
You scoff. “With me? You want an actual shot with me? After spending time with my family, you want to still try to swoon me?” There’s a smile tugging on Jungkook’s lips; there’s a blackish-bluish bruise underneath his eye, the side of his lips red and blotchy and the entirety of his body is either swollen or bruised, and yet, he still endures the pain to be beaming brighter than the stars. “Of course, you met my family, right? Yours is nothing complicated in comparison... well, maybe your sister. But for once, I feel like I belong here, with you, I feel like I’m home. So, will you give me a chance to win you over?”
“Don’t you think you’re rushing this whole thing? This... you thinking you like me kind of thing.”
“Are you going to keep wasting your time?” He blurts, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You wasted how long with some guy only for him to ditch you for your sister. What about your happiness, and what you want? None of this is fair to you. What if I could possibly give that to you, that happiness? Would you actually give me a chance?”
Sincerely, you didn’t know what the relationship with Jungkook held and what it would mean in the future. But what he asserts is right with the things he repeats in Busan about being selfish for once replays in your head again, and you finally decide to take a shot at it.
Was it the high of saying ‘yes, okay’ to Jungkook or the painkillers he took earlier because when your lips meet with his, he feels like he’s floating in mid-air. Your tongue is wet and soft when it fights with his, and when his hands on your waist pull you in closer, the bulge in his pants isn’t discreet, raging for attention, twitching against your thigh while your fingers knots through his hair tightens in response to your bottom lip suddenly tucked in between his teeth. The room feels steaming hot, especially when your hips start to move against his, emitting a groan from him as hand trails down to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze in consequence. His jeans from last night are still on and they’re straining in his crotch uncomfortably.
This is escalating so fast—just as quickly as his heart is beating in his chest, almost popping out of his chest cavity. Your natural scent is intoxicating, clouding up his mind to the point that he doesn’t think he needs the alcohol to forget the pain his family has caused him anymore, because you’re mending the pieces of him together. Your hands trail down to his neck, tugging him closer before they wander down to his biceps, giving him a gentle squeeze that releases a wince from him. 
Just as abrupt as the kiss, you pull away with a concerned and panic expression, with your mouth open in aghast. “Oh my god— I forgot you were still injured—” As you’re trying to move back, you stumble on his legs and collapse onto the floor.
“What— hey, are you okay?” He says, breathless as he leans over to check on you sprawled on the floor. Swiftly hopping back on your feet, he observes you clearly with your hair disheveled, cheeks tinted pink, and swollen lips. There’s a look of achievement on his face from the sight of a disoriented you. “Uh, um, yeah. I-I’m good,” Flustered, you push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m... I’m going to get dinner ready for the both of us, uh, I’m going to leave you to it,” you’re awkwardly gesturing his crotch before rushing out the room and slamming the door shut.
He can only laugh at your reaction. At least his week wasn’t that bad after that kiss, right?
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Jungkook stirs awake from the sound of chatter in the living room, voices familiar that he can associate them as yours and Hoseok’s. Unexpectedly, he sounds melancholic, the muffled sounds from your walls, almost to the point of whimpering mixed with your soft assuring words. He figures he should get a closer perspective of this, maybe enough where he can make out what the two of you are conversing about.
He’s not far off from shrieking when he angles his leg too far, but he bites his bottom lip in prevention of any sound, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the torment. Careful, he reiterates like a mantra in his head, chanting it until it’s engraved in his brain. When he reaches the door, he opens it slowly and just barely, to peek out and see the scene unfold before him.
“She told me that they didn’t do anything,” Hoseok exclaims, face in his hands as his elbows are resting on his knees. “That she chose to be there, and Jungkook was just lounging on the couch. That if anything, she wanted him to fuck her. Isn’t that ridiculous? How could she say that?”
You’re seated on the armrest of the loveseat, hand rubbing against Hoseok’s back soothingly. “I know, Hobi, I know. You might’ve been the right one for her, but at the end, she wasn’t the right one for you.”
“I could’ve changed,” He emphasizes, spinning his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are crimson and swollen from his tears, restlessness fills in those orbs. “I love her so much.”
“Well, and you love Jungkook. He’s in the other room, beat up and crying because he thought he lost you. He didn’t do anything wrong and you tore him to shreds! Earlier when we were making—“ You pause, clearing your throat when you realize where you were leading the conversation, Hoseok raising a brow in confusion at the action. “Earlier, I mean, I went to check on him and he was whining in pain. You really hurt him, Hoseok, and not just physically either. He’s both hurt emotionally and physically.”
He frowns. “I mean, I guess... I guess it wasn’t his fault.”
“There’s no guessing, idiot. It wasn’t. He was honestly too wasted to even realize that she was sitting beside him. Poor kid reeked of alcohol that I almost made him sleep on the porch. But he would’ve gotten robbed so... I let him stay in my room and I slept on the couch.” Jungkook glowers at the thought of you struggling to find comfort on the small sofa, wishing you would’ve chosen to sleep by him instead.
“Can I... talk to him?” Hoseok finally asks, looking down at his hands in embarrassment. His knuckles were red, contused from the one-sided fight he had with Jungkook the night before. “I fucked up, and I’m sure he thinks that he really fucked up.”
You hum for a moment before an idea pops into mind. “How about... you go out and get takeout? I’ll check on him, prep him for your appearance, and then you guys can hash it out?”
You don’t take no for an answer, pushing Hoseok out the door shortly, and a soft smile tugs on the edges of Jungkook’s lips before he lightly shuts the door and tip toes back into bed, pretending to be deep in slumber.
When you come into the room afterwards with a wet rag in hand and a bucket of warm water, his heart swells. Patting the towel against his wounds while seated at the edge of the bed, he hastily has a hand wrapped around your wrist, shocking you in the midst of your activity. “Oh— you’re awake?” He gingerly kisses the palm of your hand, heat clogging your face . “Yeah. And, thank you. For everything. I owe you a lot.”
“I—uh, maybe you’ll reciprocate this for me as well, one day?” You respond dubiously. “But... you also might not know how to do it so—“
“Are you still trying to make jabs at me after I made such a sweet comment?”
“Well, I’m just being honest, do you even know how to take care of another person?” You shoot back. “You couldn’t even get yourself back home, I had to be called and drag you back here myself, and my god, you’re heavy—“ He hauls your arm closer, dragging you along with it until your nose is inches away from his. “Can I kiss you again? I miss the way your lips feel with mine.” Even when he says the words in a volume that’s barely a whisper, his breath fans against your skin harshly, causing goosebumps to crawl up your spine.
The door pounds shut and before you can tear away from Jungkook’s hold, Hoseok is already standing in the threshold of the bedroom, mouth wide open in shock before it immediately fades into a mischievous grin. “What did I tell you, Kook? Which one was it first? You or her?”
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Text
Read You Like a Book - Closer (Part 6)
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Read You Like a Book - Closer
Pairing: Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader/OFC (Anne)
Word Count: 3.75K
Content: Pining, Plot, Crime Stuff, Perceived Rejection, Sam and Leah Doing their Thing, References to Strained Relationship with a Parent/Loss of Parent (Not Main Character)
Summary: When Marcus Pike is called to Chicago for a short-term assignment, he never expects to meet someone who makes him want to stay forever. Is this Marcus’s chance at home?
A/N: Unbeta’d. Alright, let’s get up to speed on the case. A lot of plot and some pining in this one, but it’s important. Thank you for reading!
Masterlist | Previous | Next 
Tuesday Morning FBI Office - Downtown Chicago
“Okay, so here’s where we’re at.” Sam cleared his throat before moving to stand. 
After being shuffled between several rooms during the day yesterday, he and Marcus had finally been able to set up a semi-permanent base on the mostly deserted third floor of the downtown office. Hoping to make up for lost time, they’d come in early this morning to organize their boxes of photographs and documents into some semblance of a filing system, laying out the major facts on the back wall’s lone corkboard. 
Sam had also poked around in some of the file rooms and pilfered a variety of office supplies. He had certainly taken more than they needed, but he hadn’t been feeling particularly team-oriented at the time. By this point, it was very clear that the Chicago office was not going to be particularly welcoming.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time they had been met with a lackluster reception. Their department was still relatively new and did not have the same implied urgency or automatic respect as domestic terrorism, cybersecurity, or—as was the case with their new acquaintance upstairs—organized crime. But even by usual hazing standards, this was in Sam’s words “bullshit.”
Marcus had been insistent, however, that the ice out could work to their advantage. Without the need to do regular check-ins, they could move the case at their own pace and in their own way. 
“I was only offering to debrief Wyatt as a courtesy in the first place,” he’d said after Sam inquired if they should reach out to their chief in Washington for assistance. “I would’ve appreciated his partnership, but you and I can do just fine on our own.”
Despite how poorly their first meeting had gone, Sam was slightly surprised to see Marcus give up so easily on Wyatt and even more so to see him harboring such a strong immediate dislike. It wasn’t his typical approach, but it seemed that even Marcus knew Wyatt was a non-starter. At one point, Sam was pretty certain he had heard Marcus muttering something about “people who have bookshelves but no books.”
Still, Sam was not ignorant enough (or at all) to think that Marcus’s surly mood was restricted to problems at work. He saw the way Marcus was keeping his phone in extra close proximity, saw also the way that Marcus appeared distracted at times like he was somewhere else. What worried Sam most was how little Marcus, ever an open book, was confiding in him.
As Sam moved to the wall-mounted collection of photographs displaying a series of painted landscapes, he kept a close eye on Marcus, who was once again staring down at the phone on the table in front of him. 
“Last month, sixteen paintings were identified as counterfeits by the curator in the Stewart Gallery in London,” Sam began. “The paintings had been on display for about 10 months at the time.” 
“The gallery admits to not doing a full appraisal of their own at the time of purchase. They stated they were confident in the documentation provided given that it came from a well-known, established gallery in Chicago. I am confident that the reduced price for the paintings had something to do with their eagerness.”
Sam paused for input but received none. And Sam, who preferred a captive audience, hated it.
“Anyway,” Sam went on, hoping to coax Marcus back into the discussion, “the paintings were initially valued at an estimated $500,000 for the collection but sold at $375,000 due to the seller being particularly motivated by…” Sam looked back at Marcus who was still staring resolutely at his phone. Sam continued with the first thing that popped into his head, “…the need to fund an illegal smuggling operation.” 
No response. Sam let the silence hang.
Marcus seemed to note at last that he was expected to speak. “Interesting,” he offered in a far-off tone, still not looking up. Clearly, he had not been listening.
“Marcus?”
“Hm?” Marcus pulled himself away from his phone, looked at a patiently waiting Sam from his seat at the conference table. 
“You with me?”
“Yes, sorry.” Marcus rubbed his right hand against his face, dropped his left to knead at his lower back. Sam was willing to bet anything he still wasn’t sleeping well. “I’m with you,” Marcus said finally. 
Sam hesitated before continuing. “Do you want to—”
“I just want to focus on the case,” Marcus said firmly, his expression stony.
Sam bit back a rebuttal. “Okay…Well as I was saying, the seller was particularly motivated due to the sudden death of the owner of the gallery—or I should say galleries. He was tremendously overextended at the time of his death and his daughter quickly liquidated most of his assets to pay off the estate’s debt. Hence why both gallery buildings were completely empty and shuttered last week.”
Sam reached down for one of several folders he had resting on the table, flipped it open, and gave it a quick scan.
“I was able to track down her address. She lives out in the west suburbs, about 30 minutes from here depending on the traffic. Hopefully, she will still have all or at least some of his records. Could help us track down where the paintings came from before they were in the gallery’s possession.”
Marcus nodded, clearly making a concerted effort to be engaged now. “Good, that’s great.” He paused. “Anything else?” His question sounded guilty, no doubt Marcus was being hard on himself for his earlier inattentiveness.
“Not yet, but this is a solid lead.” Sam hoped his voice sounded encouraging.
“Good, good,” Marcus said again. “Well, let’s head over there this afternoon.” Marcus looked around, searching for something. “Do we have all the existing paperwork for the artwork in a folder? I’d like to look at it again before we meet with her.”
Sam quickly found the correct file, slid it across the table to Marcus who caught it, and pulled it forward to review.
“Marcus, are you sure you don’t want to—Is there anything I can—”
“I’m fine, Sam,” Marcus said, his tone a little too insistent and his face instantly regretful. He softened his tone. “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have…”
Gotten my hopes up. Sam finished for him in his mind. A uncharacteristic wave of guilt swamped him. He was the one who had pushed Marcus to go after you. He’d just wanted to help, thought it might have been a fun way for Marcus to let off some steam. A quick fling while they were in town. No strings attached. That last one clearly hadn’t been the case.
“Really, I’m okay,” Marcus said, offering up an unconvincing smile. “Let’s get to it. Sooner we close this, sooner we can go home.”
****
Tuesday Morning Leah’s Bookstore - Andersonville, Chicago
A bell tinkled overhead as you pushed your way into the bookstore at just after nine in the morning. “Lee?” You called out.
“Back here!” came Leah’s answering shout. 
You set two hot drinks down on the counter temporarily, walked round to settle your things in the waiting cubby. It was cold today, and the brisk wind had managed to chill you on your walk from the train despite the coat you’d worn over your knit sweater and jeans. 
You were glad to be inside, even more excited to start sipping at the tea you’d secured at the coffee shop around the corner. Located in Chicago’s Andersonville neighborhood, the bookstore was conveniently close to a number of trendy boutiques, shops, and cafes. The unlimited browsing potential was yet another reason you loved coming to work here.
“I brought caffeine,” you said loudly, making your way through the close rows of books to the back corner of the store. Judging from the number of boxes you had to step around, Leah had already been at this for a while. You smiled at her as she came into view. 
“Bless you,” she said as she stowed one more book in its proper place and came down off a ladder to snag the offered cup.
“Of course. How can I help?” You said looking around at all the boxes. Yesterday had been all about catching up on inventory. Today, you knew there would be a new list to conquer.
“I don’t even know,” she said, taking your arrival as an excuse for a break. She quickly brushed off her navy blue jumpsuit before flopping into a nearby green crushed-velvet wingback chair.
Leah always looked so perfectly at home in the bookstore, like she belonged there. And certainly, she did. The store had been in her family for a few generations now, and the building and space had evolved along with each new keeper. Now it was Leah’s turn, and she had arguably done more in the last few years to revitalize the place than any who had proceeded her.
Leah had been cooking up plans since childhood, had gone to business school to grow a skill set that would help her run and grow the store. After graduation, she’d returned to help her parents for a few years as they moved into retirement, then there was no stopping her from unleashing her own vision.
As part of her phase one, she had done away with what she had called the “mismatched junk” her parents had accumulated and leaned hard into vintage furniture and fixtures (in no small part due to your thrifting help). Ironically the old-school pieces had gone a long way to giving the store a contemporary vibe. Nestled in the far left corner of the fiction section, your favorite find and hangout spot was the one where Leah was currently relaxing.
Leah’s latest venture had been turning a newly vacant space next door into a gallery focused on spotlighting local artists. Through her constant efforts, it had been a successful addition that would hit its one-year anniversary in the coming weekend. And while a celebration was certainly in order, she had been driving herself crazy trying to get everything ready. Wanting to be available to help at a moment's notice, you’d rearranged your photoshoot schedule months ago to accommodate coming into the store every day this week rather than your usual two or three.
You tried another route for asking Leah what she needed. “Why don’t you just run through all of it for me, and we will figure it out?”
She let out a huff, started counting things off on her fingers. “Well I need to call the caterer and confirm the menu, I need to find a new bartender because the one I hired now tells me he can’t make it, I still need to put together my music playlist, there are deliveries arriving today of new pieces that need to be put out on display, and I need to clean and I need to finish shelving the books that came in this morning for the store. Oh, and you know, run the bookstore.” Her head fell into her waiting hand.
Anne chewed her bottom lip, considering as she divided up the tasks in her mind. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to take over this,” Anne gestured at the open boxes, “and the bookstore. You are going to focus on the gallery and the party. Are Matt and Sarah coming in today?”
Leah let out a sound of affirmation that her two other part-time employees would be in today.
“Great, I will handle things over here, and they can help clean. When you call the caterer, ask them if they have a reco for a bartender. I’ll bet they do. And then later we can come up with the playlist. That’ll be a fun reward for making it through the day,” you said with a laugh. “Sound good?”
“Yes, please, you just tell me what to do,” Leah said without a hint of sarcasm. “I need someone to take the pressure off my brain.” She leaned her head back, closed her eyes for a second before shooting back up. “Oh! If you get a call today from Brooke Phelps’s assistant, will you tell me? I still haven’t gotten her RSVP.”
“Of course. And who is Brooke Phelps?”
“She’s that art dealer I was telling you about. Got loads of connections. Her husband is some hot-shot entrepreneur. If she likes the collection, maybe she’ll keep my gallery in mind the next time she goes shopping for her clients.”
“So we want her to like us?”
“We want her to love us.”
“I will use my friendliest customer service voice today.”
“Perfect.” Leah was starting to look a little less panicky and had switched to staring at you in a way that allowed you to see the wheels turning.
“No, I haven’t heard from him,” you stated, trying to sound more matter-of-fact than you felt. “And I think we should accept that I won’t.”
“Damn it,” Leah groaned. “Really?”
You crossed your arms and looked down at her. “You were there for the calls. Why are you acting surprised?”
Leah’s plan to call the FBI had not gone the way you had both hoped. You’d talked to three separate people on Sunday. The first, which had been the main number for the DC office, had repeatedly asked you if you were calling to report a crime. You had mouthed “Told you” to Leah who had rolled her eyes and waved her hand for you to keep going. 
“No, I’m not calling to report a crime,” you said again. “I’m just looking for information on an agent that works in your art crimes department.”
She had let out a deep sigh, followed by a “Please hold.”
The next person asked you if you were calling to make a complaint about a particular agent. “No, no,” you’d said quickly, suddenly worried that you could get Marcus in trouble even though you still hadn’t said his name. “I just am looking for a contact number.”
“Ma’am, we don’t give personal information out on our agents.” Well, crap, that makes sense.
“Not even an office number?”
“No. Can I ask what this is in reference to?”
“He helped me out yesterday, and I don’t have another way to get in touch with him. I just want to thank him.” 
“Really nicely,” Leah whispered with a laugh, and you hit her arm, trying to keep a straight face.
“Ma’am, we don’t—” Leah made a grab for the phone, ready to take things over, but you held her off. 
“Look I understand that you don’t give out information but is there any way I can give a message for him? Please,” you infused honey into your tone. “I would be so grateful.”
There was a long pause and then, “Where are you located?”
“Chicago.”
The voice on the other end paused to consider. “If you call the local office, they might be able to get a message to him. They should know he’s currently working out of that office.”
“Thank you.”
“Have a good day.”
By the time you hung up, Leah had already looked up the number and was holding her phone in front of your face. You dialed with a small flicker of hope still burning.
“Hello. FBI Chicago Field Office, how can I help you?”
“I’m looking to get in contact with one of your agents.”
“Are you reporting a crime?”
“No,” you gritted out for what felt like the tenth time. “I just want to get a message to one of the agents working out of your office.”
“Name?”
Your heart rate spiked. Maybe this would work. “Marcus Pike? He’s in the art crimes department.”
“Ma’am, we don’t have an art crimes department in this office.”
“He’s not from your office,” you continued, not yet deterred. “He said he was visiting from DC.”
“Okay, let me check.” She put you on hold, and you glanced at Leah, shrugged.
“Ma’am?” She was back after a few short minutes. “I don’t have anything about a Marcus Pike working out of this office.”
You instantly felt deflated. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“Is there a database you could—”
“We don’t give—”
“Personal information out on your agents, I know. Thanks.” You hung up, frustrated. “Well, I guess that’s that.”
Leah frowned, no doubt thinking of something else to try.
“You heard her, Lee. No Marcus Pike. He said he’d been here for a week already, she would’ve known if he’d been working out of the office. That’s what the guy said.” Your simmering hurt was starting to feel a bit like anger. “For all, I know he could’ve given me a fake name anyway.”
“Babe, based on everything you’ve told me about him. I don’t think—”
“People lie all the time,” you said softly.
“You don’t know that he lied. Maybe she was wrong. It’s a government office. Is it that shocking that they wouldn’t have their shit together?”
You let yourself fall back onto the living room carpet. Leah came to lie beside you a moment later, grabbed your hand in hers.
“I have to go with the facts,” you told her and yourself. “And the fact is that for whatever reason, he didn’t leave me a way to get in touch with him. And I just need to forget about it.”
But I don’t want to.
****
Tuesday Afternoon Oak Park, IL
Marcus rapped his knuckles against the door of a brownstone nestled off of a tree-lined road and was immediately greeted by the high-pitched yip of a dog barking from inside.
“Just a minute!” Someone called from the inside. Marcus and Sam waited and were soon greeted by a woman in her mid-forties with a kind face and long brunette hair. “Hi, how can I help you?”
“Are you Miss Simon?” Marcus asked, professional but still mirroring her friendly tone.
“Grant, now actually. Simon was my maiden name.” She smiled hesitantly as she took in the two men on her porch. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I’m Agent Marcus Pike. This is Agent Sam Dillon.” Her eyes grew suddenly wary as they displayed their badges. “We’re hoping you could help us confirm some information on your father’s galleries? Our records show that you were the executor on his will.”
“Oh, um, is something wrong?”
“No, ma’am, we are just trying to track down a couple paintings that we believe may have passed through your father’s possession. Could we ask you a few questions?”
“Sure, sure, please come in,” she stepped aside so that Marcus and Sam could enter. A small brown terrier was quick to greet them. “You can pet him if you want. He’s friendly.”
Marcus stooped to give the waiting pup a scratch and was rewarded with enthusiastic wagging. Not completely lost my touch then.
Sam meanwhile tip-toed around the dog, hoping he might be able to remain unnoticed and his suit free of fur.
Marcus and Sam followed the woman around the corner into a comfortable sitting room. She gestured to the couch for them to sit, took her own seat in a matching armchair, the terrier settling at her feet. “So you wanted to know about my dad?”
“Yes,” Marcus answered, as Sam pulled out his notepad. “We understand your father owned two galleries in downtown Chicago.”
“That’s correct. He was an avid art enthusiast. Wasn’t very good at the business side though despite running the two.”
“How so?” Marcus encouraged, glad that she appeared forthcoming.
“He always got attached to the pieces he took in. Never really wanted to let them go even though he needed the money,” she frowned. “His collection was his top priority.” Instead of his family, Marcus knew she meant.
Marcus leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Was that causing him trouble with anyone?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“What about with you?” Marcus pried gently, already suspecting the answer. “Did his money problems cause disagreements?”
“You’d have to have a conversation with someone to have a disagreement.” She offered a strained smile to Marcus, but he waited before saying anything more, giving her space to continue. “We weren’t on good terms when he died.” Marcus could see the admission weighed on her.
“I’m sorry,” he offered, not just for her loss but for all of it. “How did he die?”
“Heart attack,” she said simply.
“You were listed as the executor on your father’s will, correct?” Marcus questioned. “Did you handle all of his estate?”
“You mean clean up his mess?” She shook her head bitterly, clasped her hands in her laps. “With how he left things, there was no choice but to sell practically everything.”
“According to our records,” Marcus said, “you sold quite a few of the paintings for well under their market value.”
“I just wanted them gone. I had several art dealers approach me but in so many of the cases it was going to be such a lengthy process, and I just wanted it…”
“Over,” Marcus finished, his voice full of understanding.
“Yes, that’s right.” She smiled at him gratefully.
“And the galleries?” Marcus prompted.
“I closed them,” she said. “I had no interest in running them, let alone digging them out of ruin.” She stopped herself, suddenly pensive. “Sorry, is this about some of the paintings I sold? Am I in some kind of trouble?” 
“No, ma’am, like I said we are just hoping to track down a few pieces that we think may have moved through your father’s gallery.” She looked relieved. “Did you happen to keep his records for the paintings he bought and sold?”
“I did. Like I said, there was so much money he owed. I just wasn’t sure what I’d need. They’re in the basement.”
“We’d be happy to help grab them, ma’am. We can return them once we’ve made any necessary copies.”
“I’d appreciate that,” she stood. “I’ll show you where they are.”
As Marcus and Sam followed her out of the room and down the hall, Marcus felt the hum of anticipation. This was something. This was progress. This would bring him closer.
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mggssocks · 3 years
Text
Followed- part 2
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Not My Gif!
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Content Warnings: regular criminal minds stuff. (please let me know if i missed anything!)
Summary: Spencer makes an Instagram and stumbles across reader’s page.
Word Count: 2.2k +
A/N: Thank you so much for the love i have received on my last chapter!!! It means so much to me. Also i’m going to try to update chapters as much as i can but i’m graduating in a few weeks and i will have a lot going on. But again, thank you guys!!! xoxo
masterlist // part 1
Although he was only going off of a few hours of sleep, Spencer came to work with a pep in his step today. His interaction with this girl was very brief but he still got butterflies with the thought. He was early as usual so he made himself a cup of coffee and sat at his desk, settling in. He pulled out his phone and reread the text messages that the two of you shared. When he finished reading the short message thread, his thumb hovered over the letter G. He wanted to type “good morning” but he didn’t want to come off as too clingy or overbearing. That in fact was the last thing he wanted. 
“Hey Spence” he hears from behind him, causing him to jump and quickly lock his phone before shoving it into his coat pocket. 
“Hi” he turns around to see JJ and forms his mouth into a straight line. 
She eyes him weirdly. Something was up.
“Everything okay?” She asked. Knowing how Spencer was, she wasn’t expecting him to answer truthfully. Especially with him jumping startledly like he just did at a simple ‘hi’.
“No- yeah. Yeah I’m fine. What about you? Are you okay?” He asked to switch the conversation around. 
Yeah. Something was definitely up.
“I’m… fine?” She answers confused
He nods awkwardly. She was just about to ask him if he was sure that he was fine but everyone else started to walk in and she knew if he was being this secretive with her, he definitely wouldn’t want everyone else to be in his business. So she drops it… at least for now. 
Garcia speed walked into the bullpen with a file or two in her hand, not bothering to say anything to the team. She goes straight to the conference room.
“Looks like we have a case” Morgan declared as he walked past the desks and up the stairs. Everyone else followed.
“And from the looks of it, it’s bad,” says Emily. 
They settle in their seats as Garcia passes Spencer his case file while everyone else gets on their tablets.
“We’re going to Wichita, Kansas.” Hotch says as he was the last one to come into the conference room.
“This sicko stabs straight through the heart. They chop off as much hair as they can before shoving it in the victim’s mouths.” Garcia speaks, a little disturbed a little while avoiding her gaze from the screen.
“Four victims within one week. There’s no cooling off period at all” Morgan said, swiping through his tablet.
“Which is why we’re debriefing on the jet. Wheels up.”
——————
After the team debriefed on the jet, Garcia chimed in through the video chat.“Guys, A store owner just found another victim.” 
The team looks at one another. Hotch sighs momentarily before speaking.
“Alright, JJ, you and Reid to the M.E. Morgan and Rossi go to the latest crime scene and Prentiss and I will go and set up at the station.” 
Everyone nods their head at their temporary partners for confirmation.
————
“So on the first victim, the person hesitated.” The examiner spoke factually.
“-And on the other four he didn’t hesitate at all” spoke JJ, trying to get the bigger picture. 
“Exactly. Now with the new victim… I noticed something strange. “ She walked over to the newest victim from earlier that day and the agent and dr followed her.
She turned the woman’s head and revealed a cat-like scratch with three of them synchronized.
JJ and Spencer looked at each other. After they called the other team members to fill them in, they walked to the car in pure silence.
“So… this morning” says JJ, walking to the driver’s side.
Spencer gives her a questioning look as he takes the passenger seat.
“What about this morning?” He asked in a suspicious tone and avoided her gaze by looking out of the window.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, Spence, but I know something’s going on. Just tell me that it’s nothing bad.” She put her seatbelt on.
Spencer didn’t dare to give in “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
——————- 
After three days, they finally caught the unsub. The man was purely a sick and twisted psychopath. Jeffery Magnum. A 30 year old man who was severely abused as a child. His mother would make him eat the cat’s fur balls for dinner and when he refused, she would shave him bald. His mother died and that was the stressor that made him begin to kill.
As they boarded the plane, Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ sat together in the four seats. Rossi and Hotch sat together in the seats across from each other behind them. Spencer sat on the couch, far away from everyone. He wasn’t trying to distance himself. He just wanted to sit alone.
He pulled his phone out. He hasn’t thought much about that girl since he’s obviously been busy but now he was thinking about her. When he opened the app, he saw that she had posted a story. Before he watched her story, he clicked on her account and scrolled a little. She posted a lot of books and her cat too. Spencer really liked this one in particular.
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Yourinstagram I looked up from my book and seen this. thought it was a great photo op. 
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He comes across a picture that really catches his attention.
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Yourinstagram okay just finished these two Jung books. He’s officially my favorite psychology/ prolific author. Freud’s got nothing on this guy.
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Spencer nodded his head approvingly. He swiped back to look at her Instagram story. 
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He swiped up, thinking of a way to start a conversation. He just wanted to talk. About what? He doesn’t know.
spencerreid what’s tomorrow?
As expected, she didn’t respond right away. Instead of waiting for a response, Spencer picks up a book to occupy his attention. About 15 minutes later, his phone vibrates and an Instagram notification pops up. It catches the attention of JJ and she looks from the corner of her eye.
Spencer let’s 3 minutes pass by before responding because he didn’t want to seem too eager to talk to her. Although he definitely was.
yourinstagram nothing special! I’m a pastry chef so I’m just preparing them for the week! 
spencerreid Do you have some sort of bakery?
yourinstagram yup :)
Spencer didn’t know what to text back. So he started a new conversation with her.
spencerreid By the way I was looking at your page and seen that you read Carl Jung books.
yourinstagram you were stalking my page??
He started to panic. He didn’t mean it like a weirdo.
spencerreid I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to see what you were about, I guess.
yourinstagram relax haha I was kidding. And yes I do like Carl Jung books. What about you? Jung or Freud?
spencerreid I’m a fan of both, though I feel as if Jung was more open minded.
yourinstagram you, my friend, have great taste.
Although he knew “my friend” was just a term, Spencer couldn’t help but let a smile spread across his face. 
JJ notices and nudges Morgan who was listening to music. Prentiss notices JJ’s act and she gives her a questioning look. JJ nods her head towards Reid who was smiling at his phone. Emily who was sitting next to the window across from Morgan leaned over the seat to get a peek at Spencer.
She looks back to JJ. “What?”
“He’s been acting weird since before we left for this case. Like… secretive.”
Derek quirks an eyebrow. “You think he’s got something going on?” 
JJ shrugs.
“Hey” Emily says to Spencer.
He doesn’t necessarily jump but he was obviously startled. 
“What are you smiling about?” She asked. JJ and Derek watched as he fumbled over his words.
“I- uh-just- just a joke” Spencer cringed internally, because not even he, himself was buying it.
“What’s the joke?” Derek asked.
“It’s… nothing you would find amusing.” 
The three pretended to believe him and gave each other subtle glances before continuing what they were doing. Spencer turned back to his phone.
yourinstagram I’m y/n by the way. Just thought I’d formally introduce myself.
spencerreid I’m Spencer.
yourinstagram It’s nice to meet you, Spencer.
spencerreid It’s nice to meet you as well, Y/N.
After the jet landed, it was only 3:00 in the afternoon. Hotch gave them the rest of the day off so Spencer decided to head home and catch up on some sleep that he’s missed these past few days. 
He knew that it’d be terrible traffic on his way home. But since he stupidly decided to drive to work a few days ago, he couldn’t take the subway. He had to drive home. After about 10 minutes of sitting in his car calculating the fastest route home during traffic hours, he decides to take a way that he’s never taken before.
It would take him about thirty minutes but on his normal route during traffic hours, it would take him an hour and twenty. 
While driving, he catches a glimpse of a bakery and his stomach automatically growls. He decided that he’d stop by. Spencer walked into the shop and it wasn’t very busy. He looked over all of the options while waiting for someone to come to the counter.
A girl soon trails around dusting her hands off on her yellow apron. Her hair tied back in a ponytail.
“Hi. How can I help you?” She gives a kind smile.
“Uh- can I have two of the Danish pastries And a water?” He asked.
“Of course! Will that be all?” She puts some clear gloves on and makes her way over to the pastries.
“Yes” Spencer answers, digging through his satchel for his wallet.
She puts the treats in an apricot colored box, closed with a sticker with the name of the bakery. 
She puts the order in and looks back up at him “That’ll be $5.37!” 
He’s finally able to get a feel for his wallet and pulls out his card, handing it to her. She swipes it and hands it back over to him after it was approved along with his box and a reusable water bottle. He murmurs a thank you before leaving and heading to his apartment, enjoying the delicious danishes and finishing up some case files.
*******
“Seriously, Y/n. There’s so many relationship opportunities in Virginia. And you’re thinking about someone from a social media platform. You’ve never even seen them.” Your older sister lectures you as you close up the shop.
“Woah woah woah. I never said anything about a relationship with him. He’s nice but I’m not going to date someone over the internet. For all I know, he could be from England. I just said we both have an understandable love for Carl Jung in common.” You explained.
“Mom is worried about you. You’re thirty and you haven’t even found someone you’re interested in.” She lifts her eyebrow.
“She doesn’t need to worry about me. And every single woman doesn’t need to get married and settle down in their thirties.” you argue back
“She wants grandchildren, y/n. And not just from one of her kids.” 
“Look. I’m fine. You guys need to stop with the pressuring. I’m happy and I have all that I can ask for right now. When that time comes then it comes but for right now, i’m content” You shrug as you lock up all of the treats in the display cases.
She gives up the argument. And there is a weight of silence that fell between the two of you.
“Alright. Dave and the kids are expecting me so I'm going to get some pizza and head home.” she says, breaking the silence.
“Okay. Love you. Be safe. Bye” you say to her. 
After locking up the shop, you head home and when you open your door, you are greeted by your cat, Luna. After locking the door, you kneel down to properly greet your baby.
“Hey, girl” you pick her up and make your way to the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what options you had to eat for dinner.
You decided on some grilled cheese and tomato soup so that’s what you made.
*****
You throw the crust down on your plate, flipping the page of the book you were almost done with. You were curled up on the side of the couch with Luna sleeping by your feet. After finishing the last page, you were bored enough to go onto twitter and then instagram. 
As you make your way to his dm, you bite your lip, hesitant to say something. You didn’t often speak to people through social media. But he’s already texted first so the least you can do is text something first this time. You were uncertain, but you did it anyway.
yourinstagram hey
You mentally smack yourself as you look at the time. He’s probably already slee-
spencerreid Hi.
yourinstagram i was thinking….
spencerreid About?
yourinstagram I told you what i do for a living. I figured it’s only right that you told me what you do..
spencerreid I’m in the FBI. I’m a profiler.
yourinstagram that’s pretty impressive.
You didn’t know it but Spencer was blushing.
spencerreid Thank you.
yourinstagram you’re based in D.C right?
spencerreid That would be correct.
yourinstagram That’s funny.
spencereid Why is it funny?
yourinstagram because I live in D.C too.
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Text
Twisted Wonderland NoSleep Au
Heartslabyul Part 3
Recap: After getting the chestnuts needed to make the apology tart the group now meets up with Trey in the kitchen.
Grim: We got the chestnuts. Now we can make a delicious tart.
Trey: We still have to peel them you know. It will be a challenge, but I know we can do it.
After peeling all the chestnuts Trey tricked basically everyone but Yuu and Cater into thinking that oyster sauce was needed for the tart. Then Trey released that he made to much marrow paste. So it was up to Yuu, Grim, and Deuce to go to the school store to buy the ingredients to make more whipped cream. The following happens:
Deuce: Wow, this place is amazing. Do you think this place actually sells the items we need?
Yuu: I believe so. I mean, back home it was pretty common for all types of stores to carry items like protection charms, bleach, scrubbers, and especially religious items.
Deuce: I can kinda understand the charms and religious items part. But why carry bleach and scrubbers?
Yuu: In case someone gets killed.
Deuce was about to ask Yuu to elaborate when Sam, the owner of the school store, came in to welcome Deuce and Yuu.
Sam: Hey, my lost little demons, how goes it? Welcome to Mr.S ‘s Mystery Shop. What can I do for you today? A charm for uncharted lands? Mummy of an ancient king? Or how about some cursed tarot cards?
Deuce: We’d like the things written here.
Grim: And some cans of tuna.
Yuu: We have enough tuna back at the dorm, we don’t need anymore anytime soon. Anyway, got any protection charms?
Deuce: No. No tuna or protection charms. Let’s just get the things we came here to get.
Sam: What what? Whipped cream, eggs… Oh! A nice sweet line-up. Ok! Coming right up.
Deuce: Wow, he really does have them.
Yuu: Well, the school store does need to have everything a student would need. And then some.
Sam: Sorry ‘bout the wait. It’s a bit heavy, you got it? If you order now you can get a 1/100 size floating platter to carry your purchases for 30% off.
Grim: What’s that? Sounds cool!
Deuce: We’re good. Thank you. It’s time to go.
Grim: But I wanna hang around more.
Yuu: If we hurry, Trey might let us eat something sweet.
Grim: Then what are we waiting for! Let’s get a move on!
Sam: Make sure to come by again!
*However as Yuu left with Deuce and Grim Sam couldn’t help but wonder about the new student. After what he has heard about their homeworld from Crowley sparked curiosity in both him and his friends. If what he thinks is true. Then Yuu might have come from a much darker world then his friends.*
On the way back to the kitchen Deuce offered to carry Yuu’s bag for them. When Yuu said that it was all right Deuce insisted saying that he was used to carrying heavy things as he would help his mom carry groceries. And since he was the only boy, he would be stuck doing anything requiring strength.
Deuce: Ah, I’ve just been talking about myself.
Yuu: Well I think that helping your family is a wonderful thing. Where I’m from, family is very important and to betray their trust would be to go against everything that both monsters and humans believe in. Helping your family, and anyone you see as family, is considered a very honorable thing to do. To do them harm is considered one of the worst things a human can do.
Deuce: Wow. You must miss them very much then. But, the thing is…. I always made my mom…
Before Deuce could finish his sentence he bumped into someone, breaking some eggs in the process.
Grim: Ahh! The eggs!
Deuce: $h*t, half of the eggs are destroyed! There’s egg all over the bag!
Delinquent A: Hey you! Watch where you’re… wait… You’re the fools who wreaked the egg in my carbonara earlier.
Delinquent B: It’s you guys again. You can’t catch a break!
Deuce: You were the ones who jumped out from behind the corner. At lunch, it wasn’t like you couldn’t eat the egg anymore but you still came to pick a fight… Just now, you destroyed half our eggs.
Grim: Yeah, that’s right.
Delinquent A: And? You sayin’ it’s our fault?
*Yuu, knowing that this will not end well, and with no way to defuse the situation stepped away from them. But at the same time they were ready to step in and help Deuce if it came to that.*
Deuce: Yes. Please pay for the eggs. And please apologize to the chickens too.
Delinquent B: Hmmm? You’re getting all worked up over eggs.
Delinquent A: They didn’t hit the ground right? Don’t sweat the small stuff.
Delinquent B: We saved you the trouble of breaking them.
Yuu could stand by no longer and decided to step in. After all, they had enough of these two boys nonsense.
Yuu: Well, you did damage what we payed for. I expect to at least be paid back in the amount the broken eggs cost. Think you can do that?
Delinquent A: Don’t think you can boss us around, just because we broke a few eggs!
Yuu: This is more than just about a few eggs. As I recall you two have been causing quite a bit of trouble as of late. Would be a shame if the principal knew of your antics.
*This was very much true as Yuu had used the ghost camera to take pictures of both the good and the bad. Let’s just say that Yuu had quite a bit of dirt on these two in particular*
Delinquent B: Is that a threat I hear?
Yuu: A warning actually.
Delinquent A: Looks like we need to teach these two a lesson.
Deuce: HEY! You don’t get to make decisions for us! These eggs… instead of becoming a chick they were gonna make us a delicious tart!! And you sure as he!! wouldn’t EVER hurt my friends! You get it! Huh!?
Delinquent B: What’s this guy’s problem all the sudden!?
Deuce: If you don’t wanna pay for the six eggs you broke… I’ll just punch you six times instead.
Delinquent A: Whaaaaa!?
Yuu: Time to fight!
Deuce: Grit your teeth a$$ho!e$!!
Let’s just say that the two never stood a chance. With Deuce’s experience in fights and Yuu’s self-defense training, they wiped the floor with the two delinquents.
Delinquent A: T-these two are straight-up mad! That wasn’t just six hits! Lair!
Yuu: OH! So you want some more huh!?
Delinquent B: Let’s get the he!! out of here! I’m sorry to all chickens!
Deuce: Apologize 100 times next you eat eggs! Dumb@$$e$!!
Grim: Wow!
Deuce: Huff, huff… Ugh!!
Grim: What just happened?
Deuce: …I screwed up… I vowed that I would definitely be a honor student this time…! In middle school, all I ever did was screw around… I constantly skipped school and spent my day getting into fights. I disrespected my teachers, hung around sketchy upperclassman, and bleached my hair to death. Even ran around all over the place riding a magical wheel. I was a terrible person that went as far as to use magic to lord over those that couldn’t.
Grim: Just now you went full on bad boy on those guys!
Deuce: Then one night... I saw my mom hiding away in tears as she called my grandma. "Was the I raised him wrong? Would it have been better if he had both parents?" She was wrong. Mom never did anything wrong. It was all me! So when the carriage from Night Raven College came to get me... My mom was so happy and I don't want to make her cry again. This time. I'm going to be an honor student my mom can be proud of. Then I do this... $hit!
Grim: But, y'know... Does being an honor student mean you have to grin and bare everything?
Deuce: Huh?
Grim: Those delinquents deserved another 10 punches if you ask me! You and Yuu fought them off before I could, though.
Yuu: I think that your mom would be proud that you are trying to be a better student. In my eyes, you are doing a lot better than back then.
Deuce: You guys...
Yuu: Even honor students get mad too.
Deuce: Really? ...Heh heh. May those baby chicks rest in peace.
Yuu: There is something that I need to tell you.
Deuce: What do you mean?
Yuu: The eggs that we bought will never turn into chicks as they were never fertilized.
Deuce: WHAT?!? You've gotta be kidding!?
Back at the kitchen, they gave the ingredients to Trey who then proceeded to finish making the tart. Which turned out to be amazing and looked really good.
Ace: Did something happen while you were out shopping?
Yuu: Chick shock...
Deuce: For 16 years... I believed that...
Ace: Making sweets takes so much time. I'm exhausted...
Cater: Good work! Is the tart finished? The decorations look super cute! It's totally magicam-gramble! Let me take a pic.
Ace: Ah! What'd you come here for?
Cater: I came by to check on my cute underclassmen, working so hard. Ahaha, you look beat!
Trey: Things you aren't used to tire you out quick. So when you're tired you need to eat something sweet. Go ahead and try the mont blanc we made.
Everyone: Yay!
Yuu: Are you sure?
Trey: It's fine.
Ace: Cater, you did come here just in time to eat the tart!
Yuu: Almost like you planned it.
Cater: Just a coincidence I promise.
Grim: Waaahaaa... It smells so deliciously sweet. The chestnuts on top are glossy while the cream underneath is so fluffy! Let's eat!
Yuu: Please don't eat it all. We still need a tart for the Unbirthday Party.
Grim: I know
Ace: Ah! Holy crap!
Cater: So good!
Deuce: Amazing... It's like what you get in stores.
Grim: It's not overly sweet but still has a richness to it! It's like a garden of chestnuts in my mouth!
Yuu: It's amazing! I definitely think that Riddle will love this.
Trey: Thank you.
Cater: Oh yeah. Hey Trey, do the thing.
Trey: The thing? ...Oh, that. So what are your favorite foods?
Ace: Mine's cherry pie and hamburgers.
Grim: My number one is canned tuna. And cheese omurice, and grilled meat, and pudding!
Deuce: If I have to pick, omurice, I guess.
Yuu: Mine would have to be breaded shrimp.
Cater: And mine is grilled lamb with diablo sauce.
Trey: Alright here we go, ... Doodle Suit!
There was a sound, a flash, and then nothing.
Deuce: ...? This is?
Trey: Now take another bite of the mont blanc.
Ace: Hm? Hmmmmm? This is... mont blanc but it tastes like cherry pie!
Grim: It tastes like canned tuna! *Chomp chomp* Ohh, now it's cheese omurice! And grilled chicken, *munch munch*, and pudding!
Yuu: Wow! It really does taste like breaded shrimp!
Cater: Isn't it fun? If you did this while having tea with a girl, they'd be super impressed!
Deuce: It's amazing. Is changing the flavor of food your unique magic, Trey?
Trey: Actually, it's magic that "overwrites a component". So not just taste, but I can also overwrite the color or scent or really anything. The overwrite only lasts a short time so that's why it's like a doodle or scribble. That's why I've named this magic "doodle" since it's not permanent.
Grim: With your "Doodle Suit" my dream of all you can eat canned tuna isn't just a dream. It's so much better than the magic Riddle uses to bully people.
Trey: No... My magic is nothing more than child's play when compared to Riddle's He's on a different level. ...It's getting late. Let's go home and give Riddle the tart tomorrow. Tomorrow is the Unbirthday Party. Don't be late.
Yuu: Hang on. Do you have a book of the rules?
Trey: Yeah, why?
Yuu: I want to make sure that there is nothing against a mont blanc at an Unbirthday Party.
Cater: Good thinking Yuu.
Ace: So, did you find anything Yuu?
Yuu: Here we are. Rule Number 562: Refrain from bringing marron tarts for the Unbirthday Party."
Trey: Wow, I almost missed that one. Good thing Yuu double-checked the rules.
Yuu: It's kinda a talent of mine. Knowing the rules and when a rule applies to a situation or not. It's weird, I know.
Cater: Far from it. If you hadn't checked then Riddle would have most likely been furious.
Ace: Yuu, I owe you one.
Yuu: Then I think that we should keep the tart in the kitchen, explain ourselves to Riddle and hope that he takes the collar off of Ace.
Ace: One more thing. Yuu, can you let me sleep over again? My cruel upperclassmen aren't going to let me in the dorm!
Cater: Wow. So prickly!
Deuce: Ace, don't force Yuu to spoil you too much.
Grim: Yeah! You gotta pay to stay! 10 cans of tuna!
Ace: What! Are you telling me to sleep outside?
Yuu: No, no. Ace, you can stay but now you owe me two favors.
Ace: Fine by me! Thank Yuu!
Trey: Deuce, why don't you stay in their dorm to keep an eye on Ace? As the vice dorm leader, I give you permission.
Cater: Trey, aren't you spoiling the newbies. I'm jelly. Yuu, can I go too?
Yuu: I don't think so. The dorm needs some intense TLC and I'm pretty sure that you're needed in the dorm.
Cater: Tch. Bringin' me down.
Trey: Yuu, I'm sorry about forcing those two on you. We're counting on you tomorrow.
Yuu: It's fine and I will be sure that they are on their best behavior tomorrow.
Ace: Tomorrow is the Unbirthday Party. This damn collar is definitely coming off! Just you watch, Riddle.
As Yuu, Ace, Grim, and Deuce made their way to the dorm Yuu coudn't help but feel as if something was very wrong in the dorm. And that Riddle was in great danger, but from what?
That is where I will end this chapter and the next will continue to the morning of the Unbirthday Party. Until then, hope everyone is doing ok.
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