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#like sure they’re both pastas but they’re entirely different
chaerryeoniis · 1 year
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one, two, three | l.dh
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genre ❥ highschool au, best friends to lovers, rom-com
pairings ❥ nerd! donghyuck x cheerleader! reader
word count ❥19.0k (my longest fic ever can you believe it)
synopsis ❥ In which you devise three different ways to get your best friend to fall in love with you, but things never really go quite as planned.
warnings ❥ none! it’s tooth-rotting fluff. the both of them might be a bit frustrating at times but this might be my favourite haechan out of all my fics so far :)
info ❥ please let me know what you think about the individual scenes. also i let myself go a little crazy over the entire running theme of literature and little women in this one
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“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that any unattached high schooler in possession of decent grades, must be in want of a relationship.”
The way Karina says it confidently amuses and impresses you in equal measure, but Ningning only scoffs. “That is most definitely not what Austen wrote. Don’t let Mrs Kim hear that.”
Mrs Kim is the literature teacher for your entire level, a kindly woman in her fifties who’s lenient with assignments. You think she’s much too passionate about classics to be stuck teaching a few hundred teenagers who can barely comprehend the intricacies of classical writing, but life has a funny way of putting people in places they’re not meant to be.
Besides you, of course. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be. The first table from the left of the canteen, nearest to the food line, and directly under the air-conditioning. It’s also exclusively reserved for the cheer team, while the opposite is for the rugby team.
You never thought you would subscribe to something as ridiculous as a canteen seating hierarchy, but you’ll gladly reap the benefits.
One thing that might be nice, however, is if the meal options were improved. You’re not sure how well pasta salad and a carton of lukewarm milk is supposed to sustain you the entire day, but it’ll have to do for now.
Maybe you’ll drag Donghyuck for a ramen run later. Speaking of which.
“Have any of you seen Donghyuck?” you ask, and there’s a chorus of shaking heads from the rest of the team, before Ningning pouts, looking at you. “Him again? You’re always asking about Donghyuck,” she teases, and you roll your eyes. “That’s because I can never find him,” you mutter, before putting down your cutlery. There’s no longer much of an appetite, especially when you have more important things to do.
When you stand up, Karina raises an eyebrow, and you grin. “I’ll be right back.”
The din from the canteen becomes softer once the glass doors close behind you. Your sneakers are squeaking against the shiny floor, noticeably conspicuous due to the silence. There’s only one place even quieter than the hallways during lunch break, and it’s like there’s a direct path guiding you to Donghyuck.
When you spot a familiar bag resting on the floor, you smile. “Bingo.”
It takes less than ten seconds for you to reach Donghyuck’s desk, and another five for him to realise you’re standing there, hands resting on your hips. He blinks, before setting the book in his hands down gently. “Oh, hey. Take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the empty space opposite.
The boy’s dressed in his usual black hoodie and ripped jeans, white reading glasses resting gently on his nose. He had picked them out a few years ago in a shop, after you had finally convinced him to do something about his color vision. The glasses suit him more than you expect, and it’s refreshing seeing them compared to his usual preference of contact lenses.
You slide into the booth opposite until you’re facing him, chin in hand. “You’re reading on lunch break?”
He sets down the book the moment you sit down, pushing away his things to make space for your elbows.
Donghyuck’s the epitome of a model student to you, considering his stellar grades and position as president of student council. It’s not in a way that’s overbearing, but rather plain and simple - the boy is just more intelligent and capable than the majority of people in his age group.
Still, reading on lunch break seems like a bit of an anomaly, considering he likes food as much as you do.
“I’ve got a council meeting after school, but I need to finish this reading for English. Which is why I’m slaving away,” he sighs out, and you look away, humming in thought. “Need me to get you food? I was going to ask you out for a ramen run, but I guess you can’t do that now.”
He shakes his head. “Nope, I’m good,” he assures, and you arch an eyebrow.
“You sure?” You’re looking at him intently now, voice distrusting. Donghyuck looks as if he’s hesitating.
“Gimbap…would be nice,” he admits, and you smile triumphantly. “Got it.” There’s a perk in your step as you rise from the table and tell him you’ll be right back.
By the time you buy it and deliver it to him, the bell rings, and you’re left saying a quick goodbye before Donghyuck rushes off. It’s harder seeing him when he gets busy, but you chalk it down to the fact that during slower months, an inordinate amount of your time is spent with Donghyuck.
And when you finally finish cheer practice in the evening, you notice a plastic bag resting next to your backpack. Opening it makes you grin slightly, immediately seeing one pack of your favourite ramen and a marinated egg, along with iced coffee.
“Who’s that from?” Karina asks, and you grin slightly.
“Donghyuck.”
You can’t hide the smile on your face when you say it.
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The first time Donghyuck got a job, he couldn’t shut up about it.
It’s funny the more he thinks about it, considering it wasn’t even really an actual one - his mother had offered two dollars an hour for him to make sure the dog didn’t trample on her precious flowers.
But for twelve-year-old him, it seemed like the most daunting, impressive task he had been given, one that he was determined to embark on with fervour.
It took less than four days before he realised how aimless it was, and spent more time sitting on the porch with his Switch when his mother wasn’t looking.
But Donghyuck supposes he doesn’t particularly regret taking on the below-minimum-wage job, not when it allowed him to meet you.
“Is this your dog?”
Donghyuck checks twice to make sure his game progress is saved before looking up, only to be greeted by the sight of a girl no older than he is, hair tied in a neat ponytail and a white sundress reaching down to your knees. “Um, yeah,” he mutters, voice not unfriendly but awkward in the way that most boys his age are.
He may be extroverted, but Donghyuck quite literally has no idea who you are, considering he’s never seen you in school. Besides, the only person he’s interacted with all this summer is Jaemin, who occasionally invites him over to play Super Smash Bros. “What’s her name?”
“Bambi.”
You wrinkle your nose at his reply. “Why would you name your dog after another animal?”
His posture straightens imperceptibly, somehow feeling the need to defend himself against your judgement.
“Why not?” He challenges, watching as you hesitate slightly, before seeming to acquiesce, giving Bambi a few affectionate pats on the head. At your silence, Donghyuck sets his gaming console down, elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward.
“What’s your name then?”
You look at him, as if almost surprised at the boy’s curiosity. “Y/N. L/N Y/N. I just moved into the house next to yours,” you reply, Bambi now sitting obediently next to your shoes.
Donghyuck’s not sure whether to be disappointed that your name isn’t weird, but instead very pretty. The syllables are unfamiliar, but they roll off his tongue nicely.
He’s not sure if you’re as fascinated by his name as he is yours - Donghyuck isn’t a particularly unique name, but he can’t stop himself from practising calling yours, until even his mother notices it at dinner.
That summer, you spent a lot of time with Donghyuck - the heatwaves kept most people inside and there weren’t many places a twelve-year-old could go on their own. You quickly got used to stuffy afternoons spent in his living room playing card games, or having Donghyuck attempt baking cookies with you in the kitchen.
And when the holiday ended, heralded by the beginning of autumn, you found yourself still sticking to Donghyuck, even as the both of you navigated a new school year and branched out into different friend groups.
Six years later, the both of you were still side-by-side, even as other classmates came and went and your sixth-grade school uniforms gave way to a lax high school dress code.
On the brighter side, Donghyuck’s area of employment has improved - he’s now making much more than minimum wage helping to transcribe songs for a local indie label, and it’s a job that he enjoys plenty, considering how he’s allowed to take home a few extra albums each month that don’t sell.
It also helps that the employee benefits are good, and the manager, Johnny, is pretty chill with whatever Donghyuck does as long as it’s not a direct violation of company policy. He suspects it’s because the man grew up in Chicago, and is long used to troublemakers. Here, Donghyuck’s job is simple - to help make good music, and he’s fulfilling it to the best of his ability.
You find Donghyuck in his usual position at the counter, headphones over his head and an unplaceable tune escaping from his pursed lips. His fingers are drumming to an invisible rhythm that you can’t hear, but you watch him with a fond smile on your face anyways.
He’s only played snippets of his own work here and there for you, but the boy’s talent is undeniable. Still, Donghyuck only casts you an indulgent look of appreciation each time you tell him he’s just as capable of starting a career as the artists he’s helping.
You don’t tell him that you secretly think he’s even better and would buy his records over anyone’s any day.
When you tap his shoulder, Donghyuck spins around in his chair, hand placed over his heart for theatrical effect. “You scared me,” he says, and you only grin. “Came to drop off the stuff you needed.”
He takes the bag from you, peering inside before looking back up and smiling gratefully. “You’re an actual lifesaver,” he gushes as he takes out the extra discs and a badly-needed charger, along with a change of clothes.
“I know,” you reply smugly, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes. He’s already used to the back-and-forth bickering between the both of you, but he’s thankful nonetheless, knowing that you must have dropped whatever task you were busy with to rush down to the store.
Until your phone buzzes, and you pick it up with a concerned glance, wincing apologetically as you gather your things. “Sorry. Karina called an emergency meeting. I’ll see you after work?”
Donghyuck nods, watching as you shove your phone into your tote bag. Right as you turn to leave, however, he places a hand on your elbow, halting your steps.
It’s only then that he notices the claw clip in your hair, a transparent one with little flowers dotted throughout. He doesn’t usually see you with your bangs pushed back, not since middle school, when your mom forced you to get that one bad haircut.
But it looks much better now, and Donghyuck finds his throat turning dry at the sight of you, before he remembers what he had planned to do.
Being the naturally affectionate person he is, Donghyuck has placed soft pecks on your cheek before, often followed up by you quickly shoving him away. But he hasn’t done it for almost a year, for the sole reason that if he allows himself to kiss you on the cheek, he might just want more.
He’s not sure what it means, the way his heart strangely twists each time he looks at you, in a way that’s both pleasurable and painful. It started when you had ditched practice to accompany him on the school rooftop, just to listen to him complain about the new student council treasurer.
The way you had thrown your head back and laughed at his never-ending rant, elbows linked with him as you swung your feet over the edge, taking a sip of the strawberry yoghurt drink shared between the both of you.
Donghyuck doesn’t even remember what he was angry at Jisung for, only that you looked extra pretty that day.
And it’s moments like this where he wants to kiss you even more, and he can’t be bothered to try and hold himself back any longer.
To his surprise, however, you don’t react with your usual expression of disgust, instead remaining silent, your wide-eyed expression searing itself into his mind. It fills him with a quiet, brimming sort of anticipation, and he swears your gaze darts to his lips, just briefly. Maybe if his kiss just shifts a few inches over-
Donghyuck’s train of thought is interrupted by the sound of the door opening, signalling a customer. You quickly pull back, and he tries not to make his irritation at the disturbance too obvious.
“I should go,” you say to no one in particular, before grabbing your tote bag and rushing through the glass doors of the store, the bell signalling your departure. He finds himself smiling at your frazzled state, and wondering if it means something. If it means that he might have a chance, no matter how minuscule.
He doesn’t even realise the corners of his lips are tilted up, until Johnny comes out from the storeroom, the new equipment balanced in his arms.
“Did something good happen? You look pleased,” the taller man comments, looking over at Donghyuck who runs his thumb over the tote bag you left for him.
The younger boy only grins in response, a sort of plaintive expression on his face as he casts a longing glance at the door where you had just been moments ago.
“Yeah. I guess you can say that.”
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The realisation hits you at nine on a Friday evening, and it’s surprisingly easy to swallow. You’re going to fail math.
You shove the textbooks in the corner of your shelf, vowing to never pick them up again. However, the exam date that sits on your calendar circled in red serves as a reminder that you’ll likely have to take your words back soon, if not immediately.
When the doorbell rings, it’s the perfect distraction for you.
Spending time with Donghyuck at the end of each week has quickly become a welcome respite from the monotony of school, and you’re buzzing with excitement as you rush down the stairs.
“I’m not sure why you still ring the doorbell, considering you just come in by yourself,” you say, as you pour the popcorn out into a bowl and hand it to him. Donghyuck shrugs. “Courtesy. Just in case you need time to hide a dead body or something. What movie are we watching today?”
A grin makes its way onto your face at the question, and Donghyuck’s eyes flood with suspicion before he lets out a groan of exasperation. “Do you not get tired of watching it?”
You shake your head, smiling. It’s the sixth time you’ve made him watch Little Women, and despite the fact that Donghyuck doesn’t take literature, you think he might be starting to grow partial to the movie.
It’s coming close to midnight by the time the end credits roll, and your bowl of popcorn lies empty on the table.
“I still think Jo and Laurie are meant to be, by the way,” he points out, and you whip your head towards him indignantly from where you’re seated on the couch, legs thrown over his lap. “You’re wrong,” you retort. Despite the late hour, both of you are surprisingly alert. You from the two coffees, and Donghyuck because- well, he pretty much survives on three hours a day.
“But he’s just settling for Amy.”
“Amy makes Laurie a better person, that’s why they’re together. Jo and Laurie would never work out. They’re meant to be best friends, not lovers,” you explain, watching as Donghyuck’s expression shifts to something unreadable.
“But there’s so much passion between the both of them. Don’t you-” he mutters, before leaning over, “-want something like that?”
His question weighs heavy on your mind as he moves closer, until the both of you are a hair’s breadth away from each other.
The sudden loss of distance between you and Donghyuck makes your breath hitch, the air charged with an unfamiliar tension, one that leaves your heart racing. You have no idea what it is, other than the fact that Donghyuck is much too close for comfort. He looks almost disappointed when you stand up abruptly, narrowly avoiding spilling the drink in your hand.
“I- I’m going to get more snacks,” you stutter out, barely gathering your composure before you rush off to the kitchen. When you’re inside, however, you quickly place your hands over your cheeks, eyes widening in alarm when you realise they’re warm.
You’re blushing. For some god-awful reason, being with Donghyuck has made your heart rate speed up and your face flush, which can only mean one thing.
You’ve fallen sick.
There’s only another possible alternative, and you really don’t want to consider the implications of that.
“Y/N.”
At the sound of your name, you turn around, the perfect image of a deer caught in headlights. It’s only then that you notice Donghyuck’s dressed in a loose band tee and sweatpants.
It’s an outfit that you’ve seen him wear a thousand times, and yet, you can feel a nervous lump form in your throat at the sight of him.
“You were taking really long in the kitchen. Is something wrong?” he asks, eyes curious as he looks at you.
Your mouth feels like it’s full of sand as you struggle to find the words to explain. “I- I think I’m sick.”
At that statement, concern becomes apparent on Donghyuck’s face as he strides over to you, placing a hand gently on your forehead to track your temperature. The sensation of his palm against your forehead floods you with regret, however, for the sole reason that you feel like you’re about to go into cardiac arrest.
“Your temperature feels fine. Do you feel unwell anywhere?” he questions insistently, but you’re too dazed as you continue to lean against the kitchen island, the marble cold against your back.
You need to get out of this situation. Immediately. You duck abruptly, Donghyuck’s palm falling from your forehead to his side.
“I just remembered I have an assignment I need to rush,” you hastily blurt, and he makes a confused face at your change of topic, before shrugging. “I can help you,” he suggests, and you shake your head aggressively at that.
“It’s okay. I’m really good at math.”
You’re lying. It’s a blatant lie, and from the way that Donghyuck stares at you, you know he knows that it’s absolute nonsense. But he seems to relent, perhaps due to your frazzled appearance.
“Okay. Take some Panadol or something if you’re not feeling well. I’ll see you on Monday?”
“Yeah. See you,” you breathe out, watching as he turns away and exits the kitchen.
The front door clicks shut reassuringly a few moments later, and you let yourself sink to the floor in relief.
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Donghyuck doesn’t message you for the rest of the night, something that you’re grateful for. Despite his physical absence, however, the boy resolutely refuses to leave your mind, even as you force yourself to clean up the coffee table and return the snacks to their designated places on the pantry shelf.
It’s only when you’re standing over the sink, red popcorn bowl between your two hands, that your cheeks darken again at the thought of him moving closer to you, eyes searching yours in the darkness of the room.
The both of you have had hundreds of movie nights at this point, the catalogue almost emptied and favourite movies repeated over and over again. Like how the both of you always force each other to watch The Conjuring on Halloween, Donghyuck still screaming at each jumpscare despite how he knows what's coming. The end of the midterms means watching The Kissing Booth, even if you poke fun at him for it.
You don’t mind repeating them over and over again, because it’s Donghyuck. Even sitting with him in complete, utter silence would be enjoyable.
The glow coming from the living room catches your attention then, and you trudge towards the couch to grab the remote before realising that you and Donghyuck never finished the movie before you freaked out and he left.
In a split-second decision, you decide to press play, the house dead silent save for the dialogue between both characters. You only realise seconds later that it’s the scene on the hill, the one where Laurie confesses to Jo.
You’re unable to tear your eyes away from the screen, the scene suddenly feeling a little too real, meaning something more than the previous times that you’ve watched it. Destined to be friends, never lovers. That was exactly what you told Donghyuck.
But you’re starting to think that you might be dead wrong.
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You’re quickly learning that while Karina and Ningning may be encouraging during practice, they’re not as supportive when it comes to your personal life. The latter is staring at you with an expression of disbelief on her face, while Karina simply lets out a tired sigh.
”So…the answer’s no?” you ask, a tinge of hope still sneaking in.
“No, Y/N, you can’t be allergic to a person. That’s not how it works,” Ningning states, looking at you as if you’ve gone mad. “Who even is this about?” Karina asks, and you wince slightly at the question.
“Donghyuck,” you finally admit after long enough, nervously taking a sip of your juice.
“Sounds to me like you just have feelings for him,” Ningning interjects, and you set down your bottle, looking at her. “Not possible.”
“More possible than you being allergic to him.”
Karina’s words successfully shut you up, and you sink back into the chair. “Okay. Maybe I like him. A little bit. But it’s never going to work out,” you whine.
“Why not?”
“Because we’re friends, and he- how can I like a boy who spends more time looking at his gaming computer than me?”
“Most boys like gaming. Jeno’s the exact same, if you haven’t realised,” Karina retorts, and you reflexively turn your head to the other table, where the middle linebacker sits. Contrary to his intimidating exterior, the boy is surprisingly nice, and a good boyfriend to Karina. You’ve never seen her happier, except for the day when they became an official couple. But no matter.
“He likes physics, Karina. Physics. The boy tried to give me a lecture on thermodynamics. What part of that is attractive to you?”
She winces at that, and you bask in the momentary feeling of victory, before Ningning interjects. “Opposites attract. You’re an arts student, and he’s in science. A match made in heaven. You’re just scared you’ll get rejected, won’t you?”
And as always, Ningning hits the nail on the head directly. The fear of rejection feels all too real, especially when you know that Donghyuck has barely even shown an ounce of interest in anything romantic with anyone, let alone you, the girl who’s been his best friend for close to a decade.
You’re sure that he cares for you, but all and any affection he feels is strictly delineated within the insurmountable boundaries of platonic friendship.
You’re silent, staring off blankly into space until someone settles next to you. Giselle, youngest member of the cheer team but scarily good at tumbling, enough for you to take one look at her and sign her acceptance slip. She warmed up to you quickly after the both of you had been paired up for a group project, and the girl’s quick to notice the sombre atmosphere in the air.
“Boy problems?” She asks, looking at Karina, who nods, angling her chin towards you. “Let me guess - you like Donghyuck but you don’t think he reciprocates your feelings,” she states, and your dejection is briefly replaced by incredulity. “How did you know?”
“You’re terribly obvious, Y/N. There’s only one boy in your life - consider the fact that you’ve completely ignored the advances of half of the guys on the rugby team?”
“They don’t make any advances,” you mutter. Sure, Minhyung may have lent you that one umbrella, and Yangyang’s always asking for your notes in History, but that doesn’t mean anything.
“That’s because everyone quickly gave up after seeing you and Donghyuck,” Giselle explains, and you run a hand through your hair, before regretting it slightly when you realise it’s likely messed up the styling that you had done.
“I just- I swear I didn’t feel anything for him like three months ago. But there was that one time he sneaked into my class to take notes because I had a headache, and also he’s just so-”
“So?” Ningning leans over, waiting for you to finish the sentence, and you close your eyes in embarrassment out of what you’re about to say.
“-attractive. He’s so attractive,” you confess, watching as Karina bites back a laugh. You’re not entirely sure when exactly Donghyuck started taking a specific interest in fashion, figuring out more ways to style his hair than simply letting it fall over his glasses.
“I guess, for a physics nerd, he is cute,” she acquiesces, and you sit up indignantly. “He’s not a nerd! Do you know he can play the drums? And he’s really good at singing.”
Karina leans back reflexively at your outburst, mischief glinting in her eyes as you sink back down. “This is so embarrassing,” you whine, letting out a groan of anguish as Ningning looks on sympathetically.
At your forlorn expression, the youngest cheerleader turns to you and grabs your hands in hers, like some sort of messiah.
“Do you trust me?” Giselle asks, and you nod hesitantly, even though you can’t help but feel like you’re being led into some sort of trap.
“I’ve seen this work hundreds of times. If you do this, I promise Lee Donghyuck will be in love with you by the time winter break rolls around,” she promises, and you suck in a breath at the prospect of it, of getting Donghyuck to see you in a light that isn’t friendship.
Winter break. That’s six months away, which is a little under two hundred days. Barely a fraction of the time you’ve known Donghyuck, but it’ll have to count. “What do I have to do?” You ask, and Giselle grins, her smile reminding you a bit of a comic villain.
“Just three things. Simple, really.”
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#1 LEARN ABOUT HIS INTERESTS (PREFERABLY FROM HIM)
The first one is easy. You know Donghyuck’s likes and dislikes from memory, from his personal preferences to the things that make him uncomfortable. He’s easy to please in terms of music, though he gravitates more towards smooth, sultry vocals compared to your playlists of upbeat pop. With regards to food, he’s especially nice to you when you buy him chocolate biscuit snacks, and the only thing he can’t tolerate is celery.
His favourite subjects? Physics and math, though if he had to pick an arts, it would be music. His hobbies include singing, gaming and playing the drums, which he somehow manages to fit in despite the already jam-packed schedule that makes up his life.
When you had duly recited that to Giselle, she hadn’t been sure whether to be concerned or impressed. But she wanted you to take it a step up, which was why you were now in Donghyuck’s room on a Sunday afternoon, arms crossed as he stares back at you.
“What the fuck?”
“Why not?”
Donghyuck shakes his bangs away from the sides of his face, before frowning. “You’re literally the last person I would expect to have a remote interest in Overwatch.”
He’s right, but you ignore that. “I’m…trying new things,” you excuse, watching as he wrinkles his nose slightly before shrugging. “Sure. Sit over there,” he instructs, pointing to the gaming chair. It’s comfortable against your back, and you’re starting to understand why he’s able to spend hours cooped up in his room during holidays.
Donghyuck’s desk is surprisingly organised, besides the empty coffee can abandoned beside the keyboard. Lying in a corner are his files and schoolwork, while the stationery sits on a shelf above. If you force your eyes upwards, you’ll land on a familiar photo frame - one that quickly elicits a smile.
There’s a large Ferris wheel in the background, and right in front, two small children. You’re holding a stick of cotton candy that’s larger than your face, while Donghyuck has one arm around your shoulder and the other grasping onto a teddy bear.
He had won that for you with his pocket money in second grade, and the same bear still sits in your wardrobe, albeit a little dustier. It’s not like you don’t have plenty of other photos as well. There are the ones from Donghyuck’s performances when he was in the school band, and those of you and him during your first cheer competition.
Donghyuck’s there, on every page of your life, like a watermark. Feelings aside, you’re not quite sure what you would do without him.
Your thoughts are disrupted, however, by him leaning over to set up the computer. Donghyuck’s eyes are focused on the screen, and it’s likely why he hasn’t realised how close you are to him. From where you’re sitting, it’s the perfect vantage point to observe Donghyuck’s side profile, lit aglow by the brightness of the screen.
You hate the way your heartbeat speeds up involuntarily, gaze lingering on his jawline and the freckles that dot his cheeks. They always return during summer, only to fade away once the weather turns colder.
The realisation that you find your best friend ridiculously attractive is hitting you straight in the face, and it’s terrifying.
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An hour later, you’re sitting on Donghyuck’s bed, gaming console in hand. You’ve established Overwatch as a fruitless venture, and the boy in question looks down at you, amused. “That was only two games. Do you want to try League?”
You shake your head vehemently in resistance, slotting in the game disc to prove your point. He looks as if he’s not quite sure what to do with you, only moving towards his desk to bring a few snacks over.
“I’ve only ever seen you play Overcooked,” he points out, and you roll your eyes. “That’s because it’s the only one I’m good at.”
However, when you take into account the amount of time that you’ve been playing Overcooked, the achievement diminishes. When you first started, Donghyuck would be the only one helping to clear the first few levels, while your goal was simply to not get in the way.
Now, you’re able to keep up with him decently, though he still gets a much higher score in individual matches.
Donghyuck lets out an exasperated huff, but there’s a smile on his face. “I appreciate it, you know,” he says softly, and you turn your head. “What?”
“Overwatch. I know you wanted to try for me,” he says, and you let out a groan, before sinking into the pillow behind you. Of course he’s figured you out. You suppose you should have planned it better, considering the number of times you’ve complained about having to wait for him to finish his games. “At least I know I’m never going to play it ever again.”
Your voice comes out muffled from beneath the blanket, and you miss the way Donghyuck’s eyes cloud over with fondness as he looks at you. “It’s okay. You’re still my best friend, even if you can’t get three star-rankings on your own- ouch.”
He lets out a grunt of pain as you land a well-aimed elbow in his ribs, placing a hand over his stomach and collapsing onto the bed. “You’re so dramatic,” you complain, pushing him off from where he’s half-sprawled over you.
“You’re so mean to me. I still love you though,” he mutters, pinching your left cheek gently with his free hand. You try your best to not make your expression too plain on your face. “Love you too, I guess,” you say, though it comes out more as an incoherent mumble, eyes looking anywhere but at him.
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#2 MORE TIME SPENT TOGETHER IS BETTER THAN NONE
You’re not sure how much more you can fulfil task #2, considering the only times you aren’t with Donghyuck are when you’re in class, at practice, or sleeping. But Ningning is quick to denounce your claims during the break, when all of you are sprawled on the gymnasium floor.
“Best-friend activities don’t count, Y/N. You need to go on dates. Things that can be seen in the context of romance,” she clarifies, and you lie back down, exhausted.
It seems having to manage your feelings for Donghyuck while attempting to woo him is quickly becoming a full-time commitment.
You let out a sigh, getting back up once the coach calls to start.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
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You did, in fact, do an extraordinary amount of planning.
The autumn festival holiday was around the corner, which meant a few different things. The most important one being that student council went on a break, leaving Donghyuck with precious spare time to rest.
Unfortunately, he was not going to have those three days completely undisturbed, thanks to you.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Donghyuck comments as he follows behind you, hands tucked into his coat. You grin slightly, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “We’re almost there. Just be patient.”
However, when the both of you round the corner, you immediately see Donghyuck skid to a halt. “Oh no. Definitely not.”
He’s staring at the ice skating rink with a mixture of fear and apprehension, and you let out a laugh.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to try this?” you ask, and he whips his head towards you. “I meant it as a joke. You know I can’t ice skate,” he mumbles nervously, rubbing at the back of his head, and you grab onto the sleeve of Donghyuck’s jacket, pulling him along despite his complaints.
Despite his reluctance, the both of you are quickly on the ice, skates securely strapped to your feet.
It’s a petty sort of consolation to know that Donghyuck isn’t perfect. It’s even worse, however, to know that despite his inclinations to annoy you to death and steal your food, you still have the biggest, most embarrassing crush on him.
You skate up behind him, pausing to observe the boy step carefully over the ice. His posture reminds you a bit of a duckling, and you have to hold back a laugh. Despite how clumsy his movements are, you can’t help but find them endearing.
“Need help?” You ask once you’re next to him, and Donghyuck grumbles slightly before nodding and extending his hands. “It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it. Try not to walk on the ice. It’ll just make you more unsteady.”
There’s a warm feeling of pride that floods you when you see your best friend attempt to take the advice dutifully, gradually getting closer to gliding on the ice. You try not to focus too much on how his fingers are interlaced tightly with yours, palm fitting perfectly in your grasp.
“I think I’ve got it,” he says after a while. There’s a cocky grin plastered on his face as he looks at you, and you scoff slightly. “Why are you still holding on to my hand then?”
His gaze darts down abruptly as if suddenly realizing that his fingers are still interlocked with yours.
“For security,” he replies teasingly, the corners of his lips tilted up.
You try not to make your bewilderment too obvious at his response. Donghyuck teases you plenty, but you’re not sure whether this crosses into the realm of flirting, except for the fact that it leaves your heartbeat unsteady.
“You’re really flushed. Are you okay?” He pauses when he realises you’re not following behind him, eyes warm with concern.
You paste a shaky smile on your face. “I’m fine. Just a little cold.”
It’s a flimsy excuse, but you’re hoping he’ll let it pass. The boy in front of you seems to pause in thought for a moment, before looping his arm through yours and pulling you out of the rink. “Wait, but our slot isn’t done yet-”
Donghyuck doesn’t reply you, too busy shrugging off his denim jacket as you stare at him in confusion. “There’s only ten minutes left anyways. We can go get hot chocolate,” he suggests.
“Also, wear this,” he mutters, and you feel something warm draped over your shoulders. Donghyuck’s jacket is a little too big on you, but it’s comfortable, with the faint cottony smell that you’ve grown to identify with him. “Thanks,” you mumble softly, your own voice tuned out by the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears.
You’re so fucked.
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When Donghyuck first met Zhong Chenle, he thought he was going to go deaf. It was like the boy was constantly speaking out of a megaphone from his sheer volume.
He once told Chenle that he heard him more than he saw him. The boy had only responded with another ear-splitting laugh. But Donghyuck still enjoys having him around, for the main reason that Chenle’s the only one capable of co-opting with him and not being complete dead weight - Jisung’s pretty hopeless, and Jaemin’s often too tired from training to log on.
“Donghyuck. Do you want food?”
He had given up on getting Chenle to use honorifics a long time ago, the boy either excusing it with the fact that he was foreign, or that Donghyuck acted like he was younger anyways.
“Let’s get Chinese takeout. Loser pays,” he replies, and Chenle immediately nods in assent, switching his mode over to single-player.
It doesn’t take long for the ‘game over’ screen to flash up at Donghyuck, and he flings his controller to the side, Chenle turning around with a smug grin on his face.
“Don’t sulk,” he scolds, pinching Donghyuck in the side, who currently has his face buried in the pillow. “I’m not sulking. I just can’t believe I lost to a seventeen-year-old,” he grumbles, before fishing out his wallet and passing it to Chenle.
It’s not the first time he’s lost - the score is pretty even between them, and no one’s keeping tally, but Donghyuck just likes to be dramatic. He thinks it’s one of his talents, the innate quality of over-emphasising every small thing to draw a reaction out of anyone.
And of course, his favourite person to pester is you. Chenle’s in second place, but that’s because the boy sometimes annoys him even more in retaliation. You’re not capable of annoying Donghyuck even if you tried, because he’s used to every tendency of yours. You only whine when you’re tired or embarrassed, and even that’s more cute than exhausting.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you something.”
Donghyuck remains silent, but a nod of his head indicates for Chenle to continue.
“Is it true that everyone gets together in senior year?” he asks, and Donghyuck furrows his eyebrows, considering the question. He supposes there’s Jeno and Karina, Giselle and Yangyang, and in the previous year there was Hyunsuk and Haeun-
“Oh. I guess so? Plenty of people at least.”
“What about you, then?”
What about him? Donghyuck wondered for a brief moment, but the answer wasn’t hard to figure out. He liked you, but he was too much of a coward to ever say anything, because all the words seemed to get stuck in his throat whenever he tried to open his mouth.
“Oh. Not everyone, I guess,” he realizes, and Chenle scoffs. “Is it because no one likes you?”
Donghyuck’s eyebrows raise in annoyance. “I’ll have you know people like me plenty,” he retorts, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy, who only grins even wider.
“Like Y/N?”
“You- how do you know?” Donghyuck thinks this might be the first time Chenle’s ever caught him off guard, the boy’s eyes betraying a certain sense of mischief.
But Chenle avoids his question, instead leaning his head down until it’s hanging off the bed, his eyes staring intently at Donghyuck. “Have you confessed?”
At the boy’s silence, he hums in conclusion. “I guess not. You know, if you even want to stand a chance, you should do it now.”
Donghyuck stiffens at his words. “What do you mean?”
“There are so many more guys at university. And if anything, Y/N’s going to be one of the most popular people there.”
He knows that. For God’s sake, Donghyuck is the best example of the magnetic effect you have on others.
But he was the first. That has to count for something. “It’s fine,” he mutters doubtfully. “It’s not like she hasn’t received confessions before.”
Ha Sungwoon in freshman year, who wrote you a love letter and placed it in your locker. Kim Youngjae from the tuition academy, who was your deskmate for three terms during the summer holidays. And just last year, Kang Taebin, a guy two years older who was a fellow part-timer. Donghyuck had called him a creep three minutes after you had called to tell him about the confession you received, and you had simply laughed before assuring him that it was a rejection on your end.
He remembers each of them clearly, like little pegs on a post arranged chronologically right on top of one another.
And right at the bottom, Lee Donghyuck, who started feeling butterflies in his stomach at the sight of you when he was fifteen but was too scared to admit it until two years later.
“Maybe she’s waiting to date in university. What are you going to do if she actually gets a boyfriend?”
“Be happy for her?” The way Donghyuck’s voice lifts at the end makes it sound like a question, reflective of the confusion he feels swirling in his heart.
It only takes a few seconds for him to realise the idea of having you date someone else causes his mood to dampen considerably, and from the way Chenle purses his mouth, he doesn’t believe Donghyuck either.
But Donghyuck’s only known how to be your best friend, not anything more or anything less.
Yet, if you have to make time for a boyfriend - he feels himself seize with panic at the idea of possibly drifting away from you, of having to make way for another stranger, for another man to love and know you more than he does.
In an ideal world, Donghyuck would move with you to a little island where there was no one else, the kind that both of you promised each other when you were kids. But that’s not how real life works, and he’s starting to realise that the chances he has are running out as quickly as the time left in the year.
Chenle seems to fall silent, watching the minute shift in expressions on Donghyuck’s face, and the latter suddenly feels too vulnerable, too seen. He shoves Chenle’s shoulder - gently, but enough to regain some control over his free-running emotions and inject some confidence into his voice.
“What do you know, anyways? You’re just a kid,” Donghyuck says, looking towards his phone gratefully when it lights up with a notification.
“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” he sighs out. “I’m going to get the food.”
But as he walks down the long hallway towards Chenle’s door, the marble floor cold against his bare feet, Donghyuck finally admits to himself that the younger boy is dead right.
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At this point, you feel like Karina and Ningning might be more invested in your love life than you are. With the newest addition of Giselle, it’s like they’ve renewed their passion in finding ways to help you.
“So? How was the date?”
Giselle looks over at you expectantly from where she’s seated in the booth. The four of you are in a mall, and you’re starting to regret having agreed to go out. It was an invitation to be interrogated on your progress (or lack thereof) with Donghyuck. “He fell,” you mutter.
“For you?”
“No. On the ice.”
You hear Ningning’s exasperated sigh before you see her face. She looks like she’s about to commit murder, and you smile, albeit apologetically. “He gave me his jacket. And bought me hot chocolate.”
Karina lets out an encouraging hum. ‘That’s good…isn’t it?” You shrug, more nonchalant than disappointed. “I’m not sure. He’s definitely being nicer, but it’s still no indication. It’s probably just because I paid for the tickets,” you reply.
There’s a collective silence that descends over the table when your food comes, only broken when the heaping bowls of pasta are cleared halfway.
“Then I think we should go for the third tactic. It’ll be harder, though,” Giselle says, a sharp sort of conviction in her voice as she gazes at you. “What is it?” Ningning asks, and the brown-haired girl smiles proudly.
“Na Jaemin.”
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Ah, Na Jaemin.
Where should you start?
If perfection exists in a person, Na Jaemin just might be the closest thing to it. The star quarterback is the school’s pride and joy, and you’re quite sure he already has multiple full-ride scholarships secured.
And unfortunately, unlike the cliches, he’s one of the sweetest people in the level, with a smile bright enough to light up any room. Sure, Jaemin might occasionally borrow your homework to copy, but he always makes it up by sending over lecture notes and iced coffee. The both of you are almost like colleagues, considering you’re there to cheer at each of his games and have seen every single touchdown he’s made.
Now, the athlete is sitting in front of you, a Starbucks cup in hand. His drink is a concerning shade of dark brown, almost black, and you’re too scared to ask him what it is.
“How did Giselle convince you to do this?”
“She didn’t have to. I thought it would be fun. Besides, Donghyuck’s a cool guy,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes.
Giselle nods encouragingly. “See? It’ll be a great idea.”
The way she and Jaemin are looking at you makes you feel like you’re the crazy one for doubting the plausibility of the idea.
“It’s the oldest trick in the book, Y/N,” she comforts, and you exhale hesitantly, before nodding.
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#3 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER AND CUPID ARE NOT SO DIFFERENT
It’s a yearly occurrence at this point, but that doesn’t mean you don’t partake in it either. People flooding to the atrium of the school, towards the large corkboard with its neat rows of printed black text. There are some who are jumping excitedly, others…not so excited.
At least the waterworks haven’t begun, which is always a good sign. You’re scanning the board until you find your name, the number next to it eliciting a soft sigh of relief.
The top thirty of the level. Decent enough to keep your parents happy, even if they’ll definitely ask you how Donghyuck did.
His name is printed in glossy letters right near the top. Second place is every student’s dream, but he’ll probably complain about it to you later. Both he and Renjun have been fighting tooth-and-nail this year for first place, even if they’re technically good friends.
It’s only when you’re at your locker that he appears, backpack slung over his shoulder. “I saw your rankings. You did well.” There’s a glimmer of pride on his face, so genuine that it causes your heart to flutter imperceptibly.
Despite his perfect grades and records, Donghyuck’s never made you feel less than him. Instead, he’s the one who’s waiting for you after every performance, and spending countless afternoons tutoring you in the library. “Thank you,” you say softly.
“By the way, the autumn fair is this weekend. We should celebrate,” he suggests, and your heart stops for a moment. This is it.
You inhale nervously, before looking at Donghyuck. “Actually…”
“If you can’t make it because of practice, that’s okay-”
“I’m going with Jaemin.”
Donghyuck falls quiet at your admission, and you almost wish you had bitten your tongue. His jovial expression looks slightly dimmer now, as he throws a glance at you.
“Na Jaemin? Suddenly?” The tone feels almost accusatory, and you bristle slightly. “Yeah. He asked me. Sorry,” you breathe out, watching Donghyuck carefully as a thousand emotions pass over his face before it returns to careful neutrality.
“Okay. Cool. I’ll see you next week then,” he replies, voice clipped, before turning on his heel.
“Wait! Donghyuck!”
You immediately rush after him, and the boy pauses for a few precious seconds, glancing at you hopefully.
”Aren’t we going for lunch?” You ask, and his shoulders sink back down, as if disappointed. The expression in his eyes is unreadable for once as he gazes at you. “I forgot I had a council meeting. You can go ahead,” he excuses, not waiting for your response before rushing out of your sight.
There’s a pang in your heart at Donghyuck’s cold tone, and you’re starting to wonder if Giselle’s plan is backfiring terribly as he walks further and further down the hallway, without sparing you a glance.
Maybe you’re overreacting. He’s likely stressed by the upcoming end-year projects that the council is planning, along with today’s results. This barely means anything compared to the arguments the both of you have had, the ones where you angrily refuse to read his texts until the boy pesters you into relenting.
Yet, why does it feel like the end?
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Once in a while, Donghyuck has a terrible day. And it’s not just a little bad - like forgetting his umbrella during a downpour, or having all his pen nibs snap on the day of an important exam.
Though those things have happened before, and are particularly vexing, they don’t cause him to lose his nerve, mainly because you always share your umbrella with him and keep spare pens in a box in your locker.
He supposes he shouldn’t complain - one terrible day out of a hundred good ones is pretty decent, and Donghyuck supposes he has his naturally positive outlook to thank for that.
But this might just go down in the books as being the worst day of his life.
His argument with you has dampened his mood considerably, so much that even Renjun noticed in between lessons, nudging Donghyuck when he had failed to hear the teacher call his name.
He supposes he shouldn’t be too upset about it - in the big scheme of things, you going with Jaemin to the autumn fair isn’t something of vital importance. It’s not like you told Donghyuck you’ve decided to date the guy, or that you have a crush on him.
And as someone who takes a science elective, he supposes he should know that nothing should be concluded without proper, repeated results, and that there are too many variables in any experiment that can be changed, much less when it comes to you and Jaemin.
But Jaemin’s not rude like Sungwoon, arrogant like Youngjae, or weird like Taebin - he’s cheerful, volunteers at the animal shelter on weekends, and is the pride and joy of your school’s rugby team. He’s also ridiculously good at Overwatch, which is bizarre considering he only plays whenever Donghyuck convinces him to go online.
He’s Donghyuck’s friend, and a good person. If anything, he should be giving the stamp of approval, perhaps even encouraging because there’s no one else who deserves you.
There’s only one problem - himself. Lee Donghyuck, the independent variable.
Fuck research protocol. He’ll employ whatever methodology he needs if it means you choose him over Jaemin.
“Fuck research protocol,” he mutters, earning a concerned look from his deskmate. “I sure hope that’s a joke. Our lab practical is next week,” Renjun replies, peeling a label and pasting it carefully on the test tube.
Donghyuck shakes his head. “That was a simile,” he explains.
“You mean a metaphor?”
Fuck. Perhaps he didn’t retain the lecture you gave him on literary devices as well as he thought he did.
Donghyuck’s suddenly reminded by the fact that Jaemin’s also a Literature student, which means he definitely knows the difference between a simile and a metaphor, and won’t bore you with explanations of conservation laws.
It also means that Jaemin can definitely understand Little Women on the first try, and doesn’t need to Sparknote it beforehand to discuss with you - and Donghyuck can’t deny that he’s just mildly horrified at the idea of you letting someone else watch the movie with you, one of the cornerstones of your movie nights.
To be fair, Donghyuck’s made his friends watch The Conjuring - but that’s not even the same thing. There’s absolutely nothing romantic about him getting scared half out of his wits after Renjun and Jeno pour fake blood all over the bathroom mirror, but what if you see Laurie dancing with Jo and deciding you want some of that for yourself?
Donghyuck should be there when that happens. Not anyone else, and most definitely not Na Jaemin.
But with the way he shook you off this morning - a pang of crushing guilt floods him, and Donghyuck has the urge to kick himself, just for how stupid he’s been. If anything, he's only pushed you further away.
He realises he never did reply Renjun’s question when the boy waves his hand in front of his face. “Oh. Yeah. A metaphor. Whatever,” he says cursorily, watching as Renjun stares at him as if he’s grown another head.
He’s starting to think it might be better if he did, just to figure out the puzzle of his own heart.
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It’s only when you miss the step for the third time that Karina walks towards you, placing a careful hand on your shoulder.
“Are you okay? You’ve been out of it all afternoon,” she comments, a concerned look in her eyes.
You nod after a moment, signalling for the rest of the cheerleaders to take a break. Your position as captain means that you’re responsible for directing most of the practices, but how are you going to monitor a routine if you keep messing up the steps yourself?
Unfortunately, you can’t seem to take your mind off Donghyuck, and how he hasn’t replied to your texts since the afternoon. You’ve offered to get him snacks after council, and yet, radio silence.
It’s not abnormal for him to forget to check his phone, but with every second that passes, the uneasiness in your stomach just becomes heavier. You wonder if he’s that angry over your change of plans for Jaemin, and whether it might be better to just ditch the entire plan.
Fuck your feelings. You want your best friend back, and you’d rather have Donghyuck’s friendship than a cold shoulder.
However, Karina’s still staring at you, so you tear yourself away from thoughts of him, refocusing on the scene in front of you.
“Let’s do stunts!” You instruct, cupping your hands over your mouth to emphasise your volume. You’re grateful it doesn’t come out shaky and betray the emotional turmoil you’re going through, watching as everyone lines up in their typical groups, clearing the mat space for tumbling.
It’s one of your favourite things in the world, the feeling of soaring briefly in the air before your feet land on solid ground, and it’ll be a welcome distraction from the boy who takes up too much space in your heart and mind.
Karina always leads the first round, and this time is no different. You suck in a deep breath, before taking a running leap and relishing the thrill of momentarily being a full 180 degrees in the air, as if you’re floating. But there’s still a dull ache in your heart that refuses to leave, even as you prep for the second part of the stunt.
You realise you’ve messed up a moment too early, before it happens. You’re not even sure when distraction had gripped at you, suddenly realising the angle at which you’re landing is strangely off. There’s fear that shoots through you, cold and unrelenting, but it only allows you a few seconds of panic.
A grunt of pain leaves you the moment your foot lands wrongly, the concerned shouts of the other girls echoing in the background. Your body collapses to the ground, hands narrowly stopping you from falling flat on your face.
You can only be grateful that you haven’t heard a crack, but the sharp ache that shoots up tells you that something is definitely injured.
You hear the rush of footsteps before Karina immediately crouches next to you, an arm under your shoulder. “Can you walk?” she asks, and you grit your teeth before nodding. Her voice is calm, but you can still detect the undercurrent of panic poking through. It’s likely a sprain, which hopefully means you’ll just have to rest.
Not your first injury, but it still hurts like a bitch.
You try your best to smile at the rest of the team as she helps you hobble towards the gymnasium entrance, but it’s a poor attempt at comfort. But being in charge means that it’s your job to worry, not theirs.
It feels like an eternity as you make the slow hobble towards the nurse’s office, Karina on one side and Ningning at the other. Even as the throbbing pain of your ankle causes to let out an occasional wince, you can’t help but feel a surge of gratefulness for the two girls beside you.
You allow yourself to lean back once you’re carefully placed on the bed, the nurse carefully looking at your foot. “It’s an ankle sprain. You’ll be up in two weeks, but you should be careful for the next month.”
Her words cause you to let out a sigh of relief. There’s two more months to the performance. A tight fit, but you’ll make it.
“The both of you should go back to practice,” you tell Karina and Ningning while the nurse wraps your foot in bandages. Karina clucks in disapproval. “How can we? You’re injured.”
Her evident concern causes you to chuckle slightly. “I’ll be fine. The others are probably wondering what happened. Don’t worry,” you assure, and her face softens slightly.
“Okay. We’ll make sure everything goes well, so just focus on recovering, okay?”
You nod obediently at Karina’s request, and she ruffles your hair affectionately before following Ningning out.
The moment the both of them leave, you let yourself sink back into the pillow and close your eyes in hopes of rest. On record, this might be one of the worst days you’ve had this year. You hear footsteps thud into the room, and assume it’s the nurse moving around.
You sure hope it isn’t another injured student, considering you’d rather not have anyone see you wallow in self-pity.
Until a familiar figure steps behind the curtain, and your heart sinks even further.
“Hey.”
Donghyuck’s standing in front of you, hands tucked into the pockets of his school blazer. His shirt is slightly rumpled, tie pulled out, and he looks like he’s been running. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as he crosses the distance towards the bed you’re lying on, settling in the wobbly plastic chair next to the bed.
“Why are you here?” He flinches at your question, and you wonder if he can hear the tremor in your words.
“Does your foot hurt?” He shoots back with another question, and you whip your head to face him sharply.
“I sprained it. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Honestly, Y/N, you should be more careful-”
“Well, how was I supposed to feel when you didn’t reply to my messages-”
“Are you blaming me for your sprained foot?” Donghyuck asks incredulously, eyes wide as he stares at you, willing you to fall silent. He runs a hand haphazardly through his hair, and you’ve never seen him this agitated.
“Fuck, this wasn’t how I wanted it to go. Renjun said- never mind.” His voice is resigned, and the dejected tone causes your shoulders to sink and the fight to leave you. “You know I’m not blaming you,” you mutter softly, and he sinks down in the chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he nods.
There’s more that Donghyuck wants to say. You can tell by the way he swallows nervously, adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he thrums his fingers nervously on his lap. “I just- it’s been a weird day, and I took it out on you because I was looking forward to the fair,” he admits.
It’s as close to an apology that someone like him can give, and you can tell the boy’s truly remorseful. Donghyuck’s someone who lives easily without regrets, who says and does the things that he wants. The confidence he possesses is something to be admired, but it also means that sometimes you get hurt.
But no matter what, he’s still your best friend, and the one that you’ll trust with anything.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” you mumble softly, watching as his eyes become less dejected and fill with an unfamiliar sort of fondness, one that tugs painfully at your heartstrings. You bring your hand down from where it’s resting on your lap, breath hitching when Donghyuck doesn’t wait to intertwine his fingers with yours. When he lifts his head to look up at you again, his gaze is heavy with the weight of a thousand unsaid words.
“You don’t have to tell me everything, Y/N. We both have our own friends too, and I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything you want to do,” he replies honestly, and you look at him, a stricken expression on your face.
How do you tell Donghyuck that you wish he would care? About who you go out with, or that you wish he would tell you that he doesn’t want you to go with Jaemin, but with him instead?
You would gladly let him hold you back, to cross the line dividing friendship and the heady rush of attraction that you felt every single time you looked at him.
“We can go together instead. I didn’t even confirm plans with Jaemin,” you quickly clarify, looking at him hopefully. You know that the boy wouldn’t mind if you cancelled, considering the very reason behind it. But there’s a mournful smile that makes its way onto Donghyuck’s face, strangely pensive as he shakes his head.
“It’s okay. Jaemin’s nice. You should have fun. I can just go with Renjun or Jeno,” he says, and you’re left helpless in the face of his kind rejection. “What did the doctor say? Is the pain better?”
His abrupt change of topic dispels the awkward atmosphere, and you understand that the rather sensitive topic of Jaemin will be shelved for now.
“It’ll recover in time, but it still hurts,” you complain, and Donghyuck tilts his head sympathetically, but flicks your forehead nevertheless. His previous concern is gone, replaced more with anger. But you don’t mind, because you know it comes from a place of care, even if he’s scolding you. “Be more careful next time. I don’t want you to get injured.”
The firm tone of his voice makes you sink back into the pillow, nodding obediently. Until Donghyuck grabs your hand, causing you to jerk slightly in shock.
“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re precious to many people.”
What about you? Am I precious to you? Is the question on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it quickly. “Okay. I promise,” you reply, and he smiles contentedly, the kind that makes his left dimple peek through.
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“Na Jaemin, if you kick me one more time, I’ll tell Chenle you were the one who spilled water on his computer,” Karina threatens, narrowing her eyes at the black-haired boy. “It was an accident!” he defends, looking towards you for support.
“Y/N? You good?” You jerk up at the mention of your name, realising that Jeno, Karina and Jaemin are all looking at you. “Oh, sorry,” you mumble, taking a big bite of the pumpkin pie that sits in front of you.
It’s supposed to be your favourite, but the puree tastes like sand in your mouth. Karina takes one look at your glum expression, and stands up, not so gently pulling Jeno along with her. “Come on. Let’s go try some games,” she suggests in an effort to perk you up, and you nod in agreement, trying to put on a wobbly grin on your face to appreciate her efforts.
Even then, Karina’s quick to run off with Jeno, and a genuine smile makes its way onto your face when you watch him tease her for failing to get the ball into the hoop. They’re adorable, the kind of couple that lasts even after graduation.
“Have you ever fallen in love?”
Jaemin looks over at your question, his fleece jacket tucked snugly around his shoulders. “No. But looking at you, it doesn’t seem to be that great.”
“Thanks,” you mutter dryly, watching as he grins, pearly-whites poking through. “Just kidding. You and Donghyuck are perfect for each other.”
Despite everything that has happened, it feels nice to have Jaemin’s vote of confidence, even as you teeter unsurely in your relationship with Donghyuck.
“You know, as much as I agree with Giselle’s ideas, I think you should try something different,” Jaemin says, out of the blue, and you cast a doubtful glance. There are people walking past the both of you, an even mix of students and adults. Yet, each time you search for Donghyuck in the crowd, he’s nowhere to be found.
Even after your injury, the both of you had fallen into your natural rhythm effortlessly, Donghyuck still cracking jokes and you responding with laughter. You still ran down to the record store when he needed help, listening to some tracks and providing what feedback you could, and he still left you convenience store bags after practice, sometimes accompanied by extra snacks for Karina and Ningning as well.
Except that nowadays, your heart felt like it was constantly about to burst out of your chest, and you always felt your cheeks warm whenever Donghyuck got a little too close. It didn’t help that he was naturally affectionate, something that you enjoyed and hated in equal measure.
Enjoyed because it meant that he didn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a hug each time he saw you, or hold your hand and pull you to walk on the inside of the pavement. Hated because you were now hypersensitive to each time the both of you had any contact, freezing up whenever he leaned his head onto your shoulder or looped an arm around your waist.
A simple action of his was enough to make your heart flutter, and as much as nothing between you and Donghyuck had changed, your feelings were getting harder and harder to hide each day.
You only realise a few moments later that Jaemin’s still waiting for your reply.
“Honestly? I’m kind of tired of trying. If it happens, it’ll happen,” you sigh out.
At this point, the lines between what you can do as a friend and what’s romantic have blurred so much, especially with someone like Donghyuck. He’s held you when you cried over injuries, and looped his arm between yours when the both of you went on trips to the city. He’s seen you at your ugliest and your best, and you would like to think that if he had an inkling of attraction towards you, there would have been an indication.
Jaemin takes one look at the dejected expression on your face, and half-hugs you in an attempt at comfort. “It’ll be fine. If it helps, you can look forward to the game. Boys are overrated.”
“You’re saying that yourself?”
He nods, keeping his face as serious as he can before the corners of his lips tilt up, betraying a smile.
“Don’t tell Karina, but you’re my favourite cheerleader,” he whispers conspiratorially, and you laugh despite the heaviness in your chest.
You wonder if Donghyuck has a favourite cheerleader too.
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Considering how you’ve been part of the team since freshman year, you should feel less nervous. However, there’s still a teeming anxiety that pervades you as you pace around your bedroom. The uniform is already on the bed, your makeup bag shoved into the corner - but you’re still wondering if you’ve forgotten something.
Until your phone buzzes, and you hold it on speaker as you rifle through your closet for an extra pair of socks.
“I’ve seen you walking around your room since afternoon. Need any help?” Donghyuck’s voice filters through the speaker with its characteristic warmth, and you shake your head reflexively, knowing that he can see it from where he’s leaning out over his balcony.
A benefit of being neighbours - he’s never really further than a phone call away.
“I think I’m just nervous because it’s the last game of the season. And I haven’t gotten to practice as much because of the injury.” Your eyes drift to the brace sitting abandoned in the corner of your room, a reminder of the mistake that you’d prefer not to make again.
Donghyuck hums sympathetically, and you know that he understands, considering this happens before most of your performances, unless you’re feeling exceptionally confident.
“Want to go out for boba? My treat,” he promises, and you smile at his attempt to help.
You can already hear him moving around his room, packing up his things, and it causes warmth to surge in you, an affectionate feeling that is slowly becoming directly associated with him.
How are you supposed to get over Donghyuck if he consistently knows what you need? It’s like the boy specifically caters to everything that makes your heart skip a beat.
You’re quick to grab a jacket, pausing briefly to decide before your eyes land on a familiar denim one that’s much too big on you. It’s been your accessory of choice more often than not, until even Karina had noticed it during rehearsal.
Donghyuck raises his eyebrows slightly when you step down the driveway. He’s leaning against his car, ripped jeans tucked into his favourite pair of boots. It’s fascinating how starkly his personal clothing choice differs from what he wears to school, and you suppose the strict dress code has stifled his creativity in terms of outfits.
“That jacket looks familiar,” he points out, and you make a halfhearted attempt to shrug innocently. “It’s mine now.”
He lets out an amused huff at that, before motioning for you to get into the car. “You know, if you wanted more of my hoodies, you could have just asked,” he says, a knowing look in his eyes as he watches your cheeks redden.
“No one wants more of your hoodies. I’m doing this out of necessity,” you mutter, but Donghyuck knows you’re lying. He hasn’t seen you willingly wear a jacket since middle school, which is the main reason why you’ve worn so many of his, but the sight of his clothing draped over your shoulders fills him with a certain satisfaction, one that he can’t pinpoint.
“Keep it. It looks better on you anyways.”
Your head turns sharply at Donghyuck’s words, but his gaze remains fixed on the road, oblivious of the way your heartbeat speeds up in your chest. You wonder if he knows what effect he has on you, saying the things he does - and it seems to happen more often now, compliments slipping out here and there that make your eyes widen and a nervous laugh bubble out of your throat.
“Do you know that differentiation and integration aren’t even antonyms of each other?” You ask, balancing your chin on your hand as you look over at the boy sitting opposite you.
Donghyuck clicks his tongue disapprovingly, tapping your forehead gently with his pen. “Focus.”
“It doesn’t make any sense that they’re the opposites of each other in math-”
He looks up at you, a look of amused exasperation on his face as he stares you down. “I know you’re better than me in languages. But you’re the one who asked for help for your test, so solve these sums, and I’ll mark them,” he tells you, and your lips settle into a pout when you realise he means it.
“Fine,” you mutter, and a low chuckle escapes him at your defeated expression when you dip your head back down to look at the textbook in front of you.
There isn’t any further response from the boy, which is why you fill with alarm when he suddenly scoots over closer to you, head jerking upwards so quickly that your bangs fall into your face, temporarily obscuring your view.
“How are you going to see your worksheet if your hair’s always in your face?”
“You’re one to speak,” you retort, knowing full well that Donghyuck’s always protesting against cutting his hair, preferring when it’s longer. He pokes his tongue in his cheek out of annoyance, and your eyes immediately drift to the action.
“Stay still,” he mumbles, and your eyes widen inquisitively in confusion, right as he leans over, hand moving towards your face to tuck your hair behind your ear. You barely process the movement, only registering the soft brush of his fingers against your cheek before your stomach does a thousand backflips.
The action is sweet, even for him, and the gentleness of it makes your breath catch in your throat.
Donghyuck doesn’t pull his hand away, palm hovering beside your face even as he’s finished.
“Your hair’s soft,” he points out, and you can’t even deign to provide a response, too caught up in the rapid thundering of your heartbeat in your ears. He eventually sits back, eyes never leaving your face even as you stare at him, shell-shocked.
“Y/N. Y/N.” An insistent voice jerks you out of your thoughts, and you turn your head towards its source, only to be met with Donghyuck’s gaze. He must have been calling your name for a while, you realise, and you let out a cough that comes out more awkward than smooth.
There’s a cup of brown sugar milk tea in his hand - your favourite, and the sugar level at half, just the way you like it. It’s not anything special, but the fact that he remembers, and the way you know his is probably a taro milk tea with less ice, brings a smile to your face. “I thought I lost you there,” he says, and your smile turns sheepish. “Sorry. Drifted away for a second.”
He pokes the straw into the plastic, taking a quick sip. “About?”
“Hm?”
“What were you thinking about?”
“You.” The confession escapes your mouth before you can even halt it, brain short-circuiting as you realise what you’ve just said. Your throat seizes up, and you barely stop yourself from choking on your drink, the pearls making their way down uncomfortably.
“I mean- I just- I was thinking about how you were paying for the bubble tea- and how I should pay for your gas or something-” you sputter out a poor excuse, watching as Donghyuck begins to laugh, so hard that he holds on to his stomach.
You’re quite sure your cheeks are now pink with mortification, knowing full well that he can tell that you’re lying and you’ve completely, utterly embarrassed yourself in front of your best friend and the poor barista working the night shift behind the counter.
“It’s not like you haven’t treated me before,” he points out, picking up a napkin and placing it on your side, before his eyes narrow slightly with mischief. “But your first reply-” he moves closer, until you can see your own reflection in his eyes. “-what were you thinking? About me?”
His voice is smug as he says it, and you realise Donghyuck’s simply teasing you. It’s not the first time he’s jokingly flirted with you, but with the weight of your newfound feelings, you’re no longer sure how to respond.
Your mind is running at a mile a minute, before you finally settle on something. “Annoying.”
Donghyuck blinks, caught off-guard. “Huh?”
“I was thinking about how you’re annoying,” you bite out, letting out a relieved sigh when he sinks back into the chair, huffing petulantly.
“Is this because I stole your fries the other day?” He asks, feigning hurt, and you remain stone-faced as you look at him, nodding. “You also doodled little suns everywhere on my worksheet until Mr Kim made me redo it.”
“They were cute suns!”
“Sure, whatever you say.”
They were, but that’s beside the point. Crisis averted, you find it easier to joke around with Donghyuck, lips curving up as he looks at you, an indignant expression on his face.
You love the way he reacts to your dry, barely-there humor, a stark contrast from the way he smoothly interjects with quips and teasing. “Admit it. They were cute,” he demands, hands placed on the table for dramatic effect.
Your arms are crossed as you meet his gaze. “No.”
He huffs out in frustration, and you have to hold yourself back from cooing at how adorable he looks like this.
“I’m never buying you bubble tea again,” he mutters, and you grin slightly. “Sure.”
“You- never mind.” Your heart softens slightly at his forlorn expression, and you wonder if this is what it feels like to have the upper hand temporarily.
“I kept the worksheet, by the way,” you add, and he looks at you reluctantly, as if not yet deciding whether to listen or to ignore you.
“…What worksheet?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.
“The one you drew on. It’s still in my file.”
Your hint causes Donghyuck to sit back up hopefully. “You didn’t throw it away?” When you shake your head, he breaks out into a smile so bright that it reminds you a little of the doodled suns themselves.
“Does that mean you think they’re cute?” He follows up with another question eagerly, and you hum, as if deep in thought.
“Maybe.”
It’s just one word, but with the way Donghyuck is looking at you, it seems as if you’ve just told him he’s won the lottery.
You’d do anything to see him have that expression, you realise, unable to hide your grin now as he looks at you. If your friends were privy to your thoughts, they would have teased you for how in over your head you were.
Even if you could get over your crush on Donghyuck, you weren’t quite sure if you wanted to.
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You’ve never told anyone, but the first person who you practised your makeup skills on wasn’t yourself.
It was Lee Donghyuck.
There’s definitely still a picture of him saved somewhere on your old phone, blusher carefully dusted on his cheeks and soft pink eyeshadow blended into a darker brown, complete with mascara and winged eyeliner. You had convinced him by promising to sponsor some of his in-game credits, and after a week of begging, the boy had finally sat himself down and allowed you free reign.
You hated how he had still looked good at the end of it, despite your novice skills. After that, you always used him for test makeup runs, until you finally grew confident enough to do it on your own.
Now, however, you’re standing in your bathroom anxiously, eyes darting to the time on your phone. Three hours before you have to leave for the stadium, and you’ve decided to test out your plan for makeup.
“I’m sure you look good,” Donghyuck assures through the phone, his voice muffled. However, you’re too nervous to focus on the compliment, nibbling at your lip.
“But I’ve never worn silver eyeshadow before! What if I just look washed out in the photos?”
“How about you take a picture now, and send it to me?”
“But my bathroom lighting is bad. Can’t you just come over now and take a look?” you plead, and Donghyuck lets out a soft groan of fatigue, causing you to wince apologetically. In all truth, you didn’t mean to wake him up at four in the morning. It just happens that Donghyuck is the only person you trust with things like these, and you find yourself needing his presence now more than ever.
There’s a beat of silence, and you’re thinking he might just hang up.
“Fine,” he agrees, and you almost let out a squeal of excitement, before realising your parents are likely still sleeping. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you whisper into the phone, hearing him chuckle slightly.
“No problem. Now let me in. It’s cold.”
You don’t waste any time rushing towards the door, swinging it open for Donghyuck to come in. He looks at you, blinking tiredly at your bare face. “Where’s your makeup?”
“Oh. I haven’t done it yet. I just wanted to call you first.”
“Wake me up when you’re done, then,” he mumbles, following you into your room and promptly falling asleep on your bed, blanket tucked around him.
You stare at him for a while, mildly amazed at how fast the boy can sleep, before forcing yourself to get back to the task at hand.
It’s over an hour later when you finally trudge over to Donghyuck, hair styled as well.
“Donghyuck,” you call, poking at the boy to get him to wake up. Thankfully, he’s a lot faster this time, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes blearily.
“You’re done?” He asks, and you nod excitedly, before realising something and running back into the bathroom.
When you step back out, you’ve changed from your long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants into your cheer uniform, feeling slightly more confident about the way you look.
“Okay. I’m done. How is it?” You ask expectantly, waiting with bated breath as you step out, to face him directly.
For a long time, Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, and you look up from where your hands are brushing down your skirt, only to meet his heavy stare, that hasn’t left you even once. His eyes dart up to meet yours, catching on the silver eyeshadow that rests on your eyelids, to the gems carefully placed along the edges.
There’s a starstruck expression on his face, one that causes you to shift on your feet, warmth creeping up the back of your neck. Donghyuck’s sitting on the edge of the bed and facing you directly, knees brushing yours, and you laugh out of your nerves. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
He’s still looking up at you, until his gaze darts briefly to the side - you see Donghyuck swallow heavily, as if attempting to find the words to say.
Until he stands up abruptly, rising to his full height. The sudden movement causes you to stumble backwards, and despite his silence, Donghyuck instinctively wraps a hand around your waist to steady you. “Careful,” he mutters lowly, and your mind goes blank for a few seconds, nervousness clearing temporarily to make way for the fact that his face is inches away from yours.
You’re frantic for an entirely different reason now, quickly getting yourself upright to place some distance between the both of you. Donghyuck seems to regain his senses as well, clearing his throat.
“I told you I was right. It looks good,” he finally says, and you take a while to calm down the pace of your heartbeat. “Really?”
“You look beautiful, Y/N. You’ll do great. I mean it,” he assures, voice sincere as he cranes his neck down a little to better match your height, a soft smile on his face. The fluttering of your pulse returns with a vengeance, and you realise that Donghyuck’s hand hasn’t left your right hip, his warmth bleeding through the thin fabric.
At least the nerves about the performance have dissipated, entirely replaced by the dizzying rush that comes with being near Donghyuck.
As if on cue, your phone vibrates several times, lighting up with messages from what must be Karina and Ningning. Donghyuck’s eyes dart to it as well, and he grins slightly. “We should probably go,” he suggests, and you eventually find it in yourself to nod.
When he lets go of you, you try not to feel too disappointed.
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Despite your more-than-distracting encounter with Donghyuck early in the morning, you’re quick to focus the moment you step into the waiting room.
“Two more minutes until we’re on the field!” At your alert, there’s another flurry of activity, everyone rushing to touch up their makeup or check their shoelaces.
Karina makes her way over to you immediately, stepping gingerly over pom poms and duffel bags left on the floor.
“Game day. You ready?” She asks, an excited glint in her eyes as she links both arms with you, a little tradition that the both of you started in your first year.
“As I’ll ever be,” you exhale out, smiling at her and hoping it comes out confident.
“You’re our captain. You’ll do great,” Ningning interjects, passing you your poms, which are thankfully, not damp from sweaty palms. Exhilaration is slowly bubbling up in you, pushing away the anxiety, and you find yourself bouncing on the balls of your feet.
And then there’s the loud blare of a horn, signifying the end of the opening ceremony.
“Hey, you guys ready?” The voice you hear this time is much lower, and you turn your head to see Jaemin, two red stripes painted horizontally across his face. He’s grinning widely when you turn to face him, and you feel strangely comforted by the sight of the bubbly jock.
“There’s my favourite cheerleader,” he says, and you let out a laugh despite your nerves, striding towards him. “Good luck with the game, Jaemin. You’ll crush it,” you tell him, and he shrugs nonchalantly, dripping with confidence.
“We’ll do even better if you guys put on the best performance of your lives.”
There’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes, one that grounds you and makes you feel a little more ready to go onto the pitch. It’s as much for you as it is for the rest of your team, and Jaemin’s as well.
“We will,” you promise, angling your chin to the side. Jaemin gets the hint, opening the door wide for you to follow him out, the rest of them behind you.
The cheers in the stadium are deafening, but you tune them out, instead choosing to focus on how white your sneakers are against the red track, or the pace of your breathing as you get into position.
In the few seconds before the music starts, you dart your head up quickly to the spectator stands, searching, before your eyes finally halt on a figure, dressed in a white shirt and jeans, bomber jacket over his shoulders.
You’d spot him in any crowd. From here, you can’t see all that clearly, but you can tell Donghyuck is smiling, cheering as loudly as he possibly can.
This time, when you start your first stunt, your feet land true.
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It probably isn’t the best idea to confess that you barely understand the rules of rugby, considering that you are on the frontline of every single game.
Sure, Jaemin may be the quarterback, but you’re not particularly sure what that means besides the fact that he’s set the highest record for goals scored in a single season.
However, you’ve simplified the rules sufficiently: When the ball enters the in-goal area, you cheer. Which is exactly what you’re doing, jumping up and down excitedly when Jaemin gains another point right as the buzzer goes off, signifying the end of the match.
Ningning is hugging your shoulders tightly, as the both of you watch the team do a victory run, Jaemin and Jeno making their ways back to the spectator stand first.
“I know I’ve seen you on the field a hundred times, but that was amazing,” you gush, watching as Jaemin tilts his head, pleased.
“You know, now that the season is over-” he says, and you arch an eyebrow curiously. “Yes?”
“- you don’t have any more excuses to avoid confessing to Donghyuck,” he finishes, smiling mischievously when your cheeks redden. Jeno nods in encouragement, and you realise that you’ve been set up by the two jocks in front of you.
In an attempt for support, you turn towards Ningning, but she shrugs. “They’re right. Giselle’s ideas were good, but I don’t think they’ll work for someone like him. You just need to say it directly.”
Her words cause your shoulders to sink slightly, and Karina, who’s finally noticed the little gathering, leans in.
“Just do it, Y/N. You never know. Besides, Donghyuck cares for you. Even if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, he would never just end the friendship that way.”
“But what if he does? What if he only wants us to be friends but has to distance himself because of my feelings and we become strangers?”
Jaemin frowns slightly. “That sounds awfully specific.”
His comment causes Ningning to roll her eyes, and she places her other hand on your shoulder, turning you towards her.
“Look at me. I know you’re a literature student, but stop projecting yourself onto characters.”
Your mouth gapes open at her words, ready with a retort, but she continues.
“The both of you are not Laurie and Jo. You are Y/N and Donghyuck, and everything will be fine.”
“Y/N and Donghyuck,” you repeat, almost dazed as you look at Ningning, fear slowly solidifying into something a little more like confidence. Y/N and Donghyuck. It’s the simplest way to explain the both of you, but the mention of it also causes a twinge of your heart.
Being with Donghyuck is easy, something that you’ve been doing for most of your life. But it doesn’t feel like enough, not yet.
You want to belong to him, and you want Donghyuck to be yours.
“Y/N.” The familiar voice causes your heart to seize, and you turn to face the man himself, eyes bright as he looks at you. Karina lets out a soft laugh at your captivated expression, but you don’t bother to turn towards her.
The only thing that you catch is Jaemin leaning closer towards you. “Go get him, Y/N,” he whispers conspiratorially, and you swallow nervously before finally crossing the distance between you and Donghyuck. He looks even more stunning up close, honey-toned skin illuminated under the bright stadium lights.
“Hey.” Your mouth feels dry when you say it, stopping a few feet away from him.
His mouth curves into a barely-there smirk, and your hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt nervously. “Ready to go?”
You nod, looping your arm through his and praying the motion comes off natural. Jaemin’s words are still ringing in your head, and you know the four of them are still staring unabashedly, but you shove them down in favour of basking in the moment. However, you can’t deny that you’re shifting closer and closer to saying fuck it and blurting out your feelings as each second ticks by.
It seems that rational thinking is harder to come by these days, especially when you’re with Donghyuck.
“Are you hungry? I ordered pizza already,” he tells you, and it makes you fall just a little bit more, the way he remembers the little things.
“Is it pepperoni?”
“Of course. With extra cheese. I know the way to your heart.”
He does. Donghyuck knows the way to your heart like he has a map, though you’re quite sure he could walk the metaphorical path blindfolded.
Or maybe the path is whichever way he steps. You’re not quite sure.
Donghyuck leads you towards the carpark, until he suddenly halts near the entrance of the stadium, expression changing from lighthearted to stone-faced. “Is something wrong?” You ask, brows furrowing in concern. But he remains silent, hesitating slightly before shrugging off his jacket.
“Wear this,” he instructs, but instead of placing it on your shoulders, Donghyuck ties it around your waist, fingers nimble. When he’s done, he looks up, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, instead drifting further back and sharpening into a glare. You’ve never seen the boy angry before, and it isn’t directed at you.
“Donghyuck, what is it?” You look behind, only to be met with nothing but a view of the pitch. At your insistence, he scratches the back of his head, as if embarrassed at his sudden outburst. “It’s nothing,” he mumbles.
You make a pointed glance at the jacket around your waist, before glancing up at him, expectant. Donghyuck seems to realize he’s been backed into a corner, and hangs his head down slightly.
“It’s just-”
“Just what?”
“Some guys were looking at you,” he finally admits, and you suck in a breath out of surprise at his unexpected words. It’s not an unusual occurrence, considering you’re a cheerleader and there are always douchebags, even in your own school. You’ve been catcalled, wolf-whistled at - a few guys staring at your legs is barely anything, but you realise this is the first time Donghyuck is witnessing it firsthand, often not being on the pitch with you.
The protective gesture makes your heart skip a beat, however, and you decide it’s as good a time of any to get a gauge of Donghyuck’s feelings towards you.
“Were you jealous?” You quickly lean in as you pop the question, attempting to make your voice teasing to hide your true intentions. If anything, you’ll just brush it off as flirting between friends.
However, he remains silent, and the hope in your heart fizzles unstably as you wait for his response. When Donghyuck finally lifts his head, his eyes are hooded, filled with a dark intensity that makes your heart palpitate.
“And if I said I was?”
Your eyes widen imperceptibly at that, shifting backwards as Donghyuck takes a step closer, and another, until you feel your back press against his car, the cold metal forcing you to bite back a shiver. But Donghyuck only moves impossibly closer, until the tips of his scuffed boots are brushing your sneakers. A nervous laugh escapes you, eyes darting anywhere but him.
“You still haven’t responded to my question,” he points out, the corner of his mouth curled up as he looks at you, waiting.
You’re not sure if you’re even breathing, attempting to focus on anything except the boy right in front of you.
“Then- then I would ask you why,” you finally stutter out, and Donghyuck lets out an amused hum.
“Take a guess.”
You wonder if Donghyuck’s just teasing, or if he’s serious. If there’s even the slim possibility - any chance that he might feel the same way you do.
Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you feel brave. It makes you think that maybe, just maybe- you’ve found the path to his heart as well.
But you’re still scared, so you shake your head. “No. Tell me.”
You need to hear it from him, hear Donghyuck tell you that this isn’t just some pipe dream of yours.
He lets out a huff of amusement at your stubbornness. “Fine. I like you, L/N Y/N.”
The confession goes straight to your head, and you pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “Really?”
Donghyuck stares at you in disbelief. “Yes, really. Why do you think I got jealous? I don’t want you to be with Jaemin, or any other guy. I want you to be with me.”
You didn’t think it was possible for him to fluster you even more, but it seems you’re dead wrong, as your cheeks redden further and you tear your gaze away from him. “Oh,” you breathe out, and Donghyuck looks at you with equal parts exasperation and adoration.
“If you’re going to reject me, do it now,” he adds, voice light, but there’s a vulnerability on his face, evident even in the poor lighting. You realise that he’s likely been full of doubt, right up until this very moment - not too much unlike yourself.
You’d be a fool to give this chance up, and there’s nothing to lose, not anymore, when Donghyuck’s already confirmed your dreams and turned them into reality.
“I like you too. So, so much,” you finally exhale out, and his expression softens into something like relief.
“Good. I was starting to think you’d never look my way,” he mutters, and you look at him incredulously.
“Are you kidding? I even asked Giselle for-” your mouth falls shut just in time, but he catches on quickly, mischief glinting.
“Asked her for what, Y/N?”
At this point, you figure it’s better to tell Donghyuck yourself, than let him find out through the grapevine.
“How to get you to fall in love with me,” you force out, and he lifts an eyebrow in response. “Is that what you attempting to play Overwatch was?”
You glare at him, feeling caught. “No!”
“Okay, well, then how about the skating- wait. Was Jaemin in on this?” He narrows his eyes, and you shrink under his gaze, only proving him right.
You’re not even surprised anymore and how Donghyuck managed to decipher each of Giselle’s tactics exactly, and you’re starting to wonder why you even trusted the girl in the first place.
Still, if it got you here, you suppose you owe the girl a thank you.
“I was right. He was in on it. I can’t believe you of all people would agree to something like this-”
That’s it. You’re not sure if you can take the embarrassment of Donghyuck slowly dismantling your plan any more, so you make another irrational decision.
Tiptoeing, you press a soft kiss to the boy’s lips.
It seems to work for a few seconds, Donghyuck freezing up and looking at you in disbelief. “Can we not talk about that anymore?” you ask sweetly, and he nods instinctively, a dazed expression on his face.
“You just kissed me,” he points out, and you nod, head tilting to the side in confusion. “Yeah.”
“You just kissed me.”
“Lee Donghyuck, if you don’t stop repeating the same sentence-”
“Let’s do that again.” He doesn’t hesitate to cut you off, hands gripping onto your hips firmly and pulling you towards him.
If your kiss was a peck, Donghyuck is completely different, eagerly stealing the air from your lungs as his mouth slots gently over yours, tugging gently on your bottom lip.
For someone who’s never dated, he’s an insanely good kisser, and it thrills and terrifies you in equal measure.
Your hands make their way to his chest unconsciously, fisting in the cotton material of his shirt. But he doesn’t stop, and you gasp when his tongue brushes against yours briefly. It’s so very different from the best friend you know and love, the one who’s always bright and focused - the way he kisses you is unrestrained and messy, almost as if he can’t quite get enough of you.
Your brain is short-circuiting, only tuned in to the feeling of Donghyuck’s lips moving against your own. You’re well aware that anyone could interrupt and resign you to months of endless teasing, but you can’t seem to get yourself to care, or stop.
It seems like too short a time when Donghyuck finally allows you some air, his thumb caressing your cheek gently. Even then, he doesn’t make any move to distance himself, breath fanning over your face with every exhale.
“Does this…does this mean we’re a thing now?” you ask, only realizing how dumb your question is once it escapes. However, Donghyuck doesn’t seem to care, looking at you with an expression so fond that it makes you blush.
“Yes. I mean, if you want to. I know I do,” he replies quickly, and your heart feels so full that it might burst as you look at your best friend-turned-boyfriend.
“I’ve never wanted anything more.”
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The months of October and November have affectionately been coined ‘break-up season’ by your entire school, owing to the sheer number of couples that fail to last under the pressure of academic expectations and the stress of final exams.
But if anything, the pursuit of the most important grades of your entire high school life has only brought you and Donghyuck closer, brief kisses shared in the library over textbooks and fingers intertwined whenever he’s sitting with you.
Call it trauma bonding, but it’s not as if you and Donghyuck haven’t been through dozens of other breakup seasons. It’s just a little more applicable now that the both of you are dating.
“Look, if I fail, I just won’t go to university. I’ll hone my other skills.”
You’re currently standing opposite Donghyuck in your bedroom, hands flung out to emphasise your point, and a bemused expression appears on his face at your words.
“You won’t fail, Y/N.”
“Yeah, but in the hypothetical situation that I do, I need to be ready to practise to be a trophy wife.”
“There’s practice for that?”
“Of course,” you reply earnestly. Donghyuck crosses his legs on your duvet, looking at you disbelievingly.
“Didn’t you see that one video? Of the computer engineer and his trophy wife. She’s retired at twenty-six, Donghyuck. It’s the dream.”
“Am I supposed to be the computer engineer?” he asks, and you nod eagerly.
“Does that mean you’re marrying me? You should have told me this was a proposal, Y/N. I would have prepared something,” he replies smoothly, tugging you closer to him by wrapping his fingers around your wrist.
Dating Donghyuck has only caused his flirtatious teasing to increase in intensity, and you’re not sure if your heart might just jump out of your chest one day from his actions. “You wish,” you retort weakly, giving in when he tugs you down to sit next to him.
“I do,” he replies, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your palm, and your eyes widen at his candidness. You drag your hands, and subsequently one of his, up to cover your face, embarrassed.
“You can’t just say things like that!”
“You’re the one who brought up being my trophy wife! What was I supposed to do, say no?”
You don’t reply, but Donghyuck’s stronger than you, eventually pulling your hands away by the wrists.
“In all seriousness, though, I mean it,” he says, looking at you insistently.
“But we’re still so young,” you mumble back. “We’ve barely graduated high school, and you’re saying this?”
“I’m not saying we should get married right now, obviously. I’m just saying that I’ve already spent most of my life with you-” he shifts slightly closer to you. “-what’s a few more decades?”
He asks the question earnestly, enunciating each and every syllable and allowing you to realise that he’s being perfectly honest - Donghyuck means every word. You’re suddenly gripped by longing as you look at him, taking in each and every one of the features that you have memorized by heart.
He’s so heartbreakingly beautiful, and he’s yours.
Student council president, physics nerd, gamer, budding musician - they’re all elements of Donghyuck that make him him, and every part is precious to you. There’s a sort of desperation that tugs at you, an unfamiliar feeling that doesn’t seem to make sense - you’re already dating him. What else could you possibly want?
Until the words appear in your mind, the realization dawning clear as day.
Like isn’t big enough of a word to encapsulate what you feel for Donghyuck, to represent the time you’ve spent with him. You’ve loved him since the first time he stood in your kitchen and attempted to bake a cake for your birthday, since he passed you your first Christmas present and gave you a kiss on your cheek when the both of you were seven, the moment immortalized in a photo frame above your bookshelf.
You’ve been head over heels for Donghyuck since he sat down on your bed and let you put face glitter along his cheekbones, or when he let you make an extra dish in Overcooked, even if it meant the both of you got fewer points. And you fall a little bit more each time he helps to massage your shoulders after practice, or when he kisses you with dizzying passion.
And you’re quite sure he knows you love him, from the way you remember the way he likes his ramen to having his favourite songs saved into your playlists. Or from how you’ve willingly watched Chicken Little with him, or made twenty pages of Languages notes for him to study before the exam. But you want to tell him, just because something about verbalizing it feels necessary.
Ningning might tease you for being a typical literature student, but you need to put your love for Donghyuck into words.
Which is why your voice doesn’t waver as you meet Donghyuck’s eyes, the warmth and adoration in his gaze reflected in yours.
“I love you, Donghyuck. You don’t have to say it back, of course, but I wanted you to know-”
He doesn’t say it back, but you get your answer when he kisses you again. It’s less hungry and more sweet, Donghyuck holding you as if you’re something fragile, something to be treasured.
You take the time to savour the moment, basking in the little bubble that he has created around the both of you. Even though your eyes are closed, you can feel Donghyuck smiling into the kiss, unable to hide his joy.
You never needed three ways to get Donghyuck to fall in love with you - he already had. All the both of you needed was a little bravery, that small push that would convince you to take the jump from friendship to romance.
“You look pretty like this,” he whispers, soft enough for only you to hear.
You’re not sure how to respond to that. Like anyone else, you have days where you feel like you look good, or times when Karina and Ningning are there to doll you up. But having Donghyuck call you pretty feels different, perhaps just because of how much he means to you.
“Thanks. You’re…pretty too,” you say absentmindedly, causing Donghyuck to huff a laugh.
“Really?” He asks, batting his eyelashes.
That earns Donghyuck a swat on his back, but you’re laughing as he falls back dramatically, pulling you down with him.
Just like that, the tender moment is broken, but you don’t mind it, not when he’s the one making you laugh.
“Today’s supposed to be movie night. What are we watching?” You ask, feeling the bed shift as Donghyuck turns to face you, resting his head on his hand.
“I was thinking The Notebook,” he suggests, and you try not to make your wince too obvious.
“But it’s so unrealistic.” Donghyuck lets out an affronted gasp at your words, pinching your side. “I will have you know The Notebook is one of the greatest romantic movies of all time-”
You shake your head resolutely, watching as his face falls. “Nope. Most definitely not,” you declare, and Donghyuck pouts slightly, head falling back onto the mattress. It takes a few moments of him staring at the ceiling before you hear a noise of amusement, and you can almost hear the wheels in his head turning.
“Did you think of something?” You ask, and when he faces you this time, his eyes are alight with mischief, mouth curled into a lazy smirk.
“We can do…other things.”
Your thoughts immediately drift haywire, and you look up at him, eyes wide. “Like what?”
“Like-” Donghyuck leans in tantalizingly close, the scent of his shampoo filling your nose, and his fingers brush over your lips just briefly.
“Kissing?” You respond reflexively, and his grin turns wider. “You suggested that, not me,” he retorts, but his eyes dart down towards your mouth anyways.
There isn’t any time for you to bite back a reply, before he finally closes the gap and connects your mouth with his. Donghyuck circles slow, lazy circles over your hipbone as he leans into you, and you place your hand on the nape of his neck to pull him closer.
When you push him away briefly for air, your cheeks are flushed, but Donghyuck looks just as affected as you are, hair messy from lying on the bed.
“I think we should scrap movie night. We can just do this instead,” he puts forth, and you nod eagerly, causing his grip on your waist to tighten.
“Sounds good to me.”
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lbxbxx · 2 months
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Cockpit 7 | knj
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Pair: Namjoon x reader
Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.
Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood.
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taglist: @wecanpretendit | @whoisbts | @yoonjinsrkive | @my-current-mood-is | @joonzseoulmate | @parkinglot-nights | @missbangtangirl | @m00njinnie
“Four aces.” Namjoon puts his cards down and he thinks he won, he claps his hands and takes a sip from his beer. “What do you got?”
“Don’t celebrate too early Joon.” You put your cards down. “Straight flush.” And you finally beat his cards and win the game.
That day was a lazy day for both of you, after your nap you two woke up hungry and ended up cooking pasta with prepackaged sauce to save time, and after dinner he wanted to see if he could beat you in a poker game, and you won the game three times in a row.
“Fuck.” He murmurs. “Practice round.” He tries to manipulate the game which makes you laugh. “I’m ready to play you again and I’ll win.” You shrug.
He nods and takes another sip from his drink. “You got lucky y/n.” He has the habit of messing with you and you know he’s doing it again now so you hit his chest. “You’re such an idiot.” You get up on your feet and collect the plates that were still on the coffee table before you head to the kitchen, he follows you and takes the plates from your hands before putting them in the sink. “You should go lie down, I’ll do the dishes.”
You giggle and cross your arms. “I’m okay, I promise.”
He’s been treating you like a fragile piece of glass the entire day, When you’re making dinner, he felt like a burden when you got up and insisted to cook, even when you didn’t even finish half of your plate, he knows you cooked just because he’s there. So he insisted on helping in the kitchen even though when he turns everything into a disaster.
He washes the plates before stacking them in the dishwasher, you tilt your head and just think.
Why?
Is she blind? His wife must fucking brainless for treating him like utter shit and turning his life upside down.
This man walked out of a book, he’s sweet, sensitive, caring, smart, cute, attractive, and really good in bed. Why would she do that?
You were never the type to praise a man or care for one emotionally because you’re a little sure that most of them are heartless really.
But Kim Namjoon needs to be treated with love, he deserves to be loved and to be taken care of.
There’s just one thing left to do, you’ve studied this man enough and now you need someone else to do that instead, you’re probably blinded by his good looks or something, so you need someone to see him differently.
“Do you have anything planned Friday?” You use your palms for support and jump to sit on the counter, he hums and looks up for a second trying to remember his schedule. “I’m supposed to fly to Gwangju tomorrow night, and I’m flying back Friday evening,” He nods when he remembers before he asks. “Do you wanna do something?”
You didn’t think it much, but this is the perfect opportunity to finally get him to meet your friends. “I’m planning to host a game night with my friends, and I want you to come over and join.”
He grabs the kitchen towel to dry his hands before he scratches the back of his neck, a little hesitated to answer.
“Don’t worry, they already know about you and they’re really nice people.”
You really wish you didn’t say that, because it obviously made him uncomfortable. You can tell from the way he fidgets in his spot and looks away. “I hope I didn’t make things awkward for you.” He says.
You shake your head immediately. “No, Hoseok found out when he saw you here a couple weeks ago, And Jimin actually found out on his own, you’ll get to see the others on Friday, but I promise, other than their inappropriate jokes and really loud arguments, they’re good people.”
He turns to face you again before a smirk sits on his face, taking a few steps closer to you. “So you want to introduce me to your friends?” And you playfully hit his chest, “They’re finally going to see the guy who fucked their friend huh?” He continues. Your face flushes red for a moment and you feel heat creeping all over your body.
He nods slowly. “Sure, I’d love to join then.”
-
“You’re kidding.” Of course it’s Kim Taehyung, who’s face suddenly drops and changes to the point you would barely recognize his features, he’s the last one to find out that Namjoon is joining you tonight and he clearly isn’t that glad about it. “Y/n, he lied to you, you can’t just-“
“I know.” You interrupt him, “I got to know the man very well in the past month, I just need you guys to help me, you’re a guy and you know how guys think, I really care about everyone’s opinion, but I care about yours the most.” You shut the cabinet after grabbing out large bowls for the chips.
You had everything completely planned, you refilled your fridge and mini bar with alcohol and other drinks, you stacked your pantry with different types of chips and candy, and you even made the dips and popped some popcorn.
“You already know my opinion.” He crosses his arms. “And I don’t think I’m going to change it.”
You roll your eyes and sigh. “Just give him a chance, oh and please oh please don’t scare him off and don’t do that thing with your face.” You pause. “Oh and please don’t mention anything about his personal life, I already warned the guys and now I’m telling you, he doesn’t have to know that you know.”
“I’m not going to mention anything, but I can’t promise you anything about not scaring him off.” He grabs the bowls and heads out to the living room, he’s really irritated that when he saw Jungkook in front of him, he snapped at him loudly. “Jungkook will you please move your fat ass and drag the poker table to the living room?” He scolds the younger which makes you laugh, you know the topic of Namjoon irritated him just because he’s really protective of you, they all are, but Taehyung never had close girl friends and you’re the first one ever, that’s why he protects you at all costs.
“I kinda wish Namjoon joined us all the time if you’re going to wear dresses like these.” Jungkook finally gets up to get the poker table, you cringe and kick him in the shin. “What a creep.”
You do admit you look good in that dress, you had just bought it, a dark grey shapewear slip dress that complemented and highlighted every single curve on your body, it had a square collar to bring out your tits, and it was a little above the knee. You matched it with the pair of slippers you wear around your house, cute but really attractive.
Jimin grabs the bowl of chips into his lap and starts eating. “Where is he anyway? Is he always late?”
You rub your forehead, all of them are acting weird today as if they got jealous, not jealous in a romantic way, but jealous in a possessive-over-their-friend jealous. “He landed an hour ago, so he should be here any minute.” You head back to the kitchen and take out ash trays, some of your friends were social smokers and they always light up a few smokes during game nights.
The door bell rings and you hear the rushing footsteps from the living room, and like the kids they are, they rush to check the cameras before they all take their seats and act nonchalant, but all eyes are on the door.
Poor Namjoon he’s about to be scared off.
“Can someone please get the door?” You yell from the kitchen.
Namjoon was a little taken back when the door was opened by Yoongi, he was expecting you to be the one to open, his eyes even wonder inside the house looking for you. “Hi.” Yoongi shoots a smile before stretching his hand out to shake Namjoon’s. “I’m Yoongi, come on in.���
And the moment Namjoon steps in, he lets out a nervous smile and looks around the room aching to find you, he’s getting nervous by the second especially when all of them are looking at him.
“Joon?” You finally get out of the kitchen with the ashtrays in one hand, and just like magic, Namjoon suddenly feels like he’s home, his breath is regular again and his heart beat is.. Well he’s still anxious about meeting your friends.
“There you are.” You purposely give him a hug and a kiss on his cheek in front of your friends. “How was your flight?”  He wraps one arm around you and kisses you back on the cheek .”It was great, you look outstanding.”
He did notice the dress and he so desperately wants to check you out but everyone is looking. You giggle and put your hand behind his back. “Guys, this is Namjoon.”
And you introduce him to each one of them, you were too occupied looking at Namjoon’s body language and behavior to notice any discomfort, but he’s doing surprisingly okay, not because your friends are nice to him, but because you’re here with him.
What you didn’t know is that Taehyung is studying this man head to toe, he knows how men look when they’re attracted to someone, and he knows how they even act, and he’s a little amused when he sees the way Namjoon looks at you, he knows that you two know each other for a month, but Namjoon’s looks give him away, he does have something for you, and it’s very obvious.
“Come on everyone, take your seats.” Seokjin stands up, Namjoon pulls a chair for you next to him and speaks. “y/n is on my team.” Which lights up the first argument around the table, calling you on his team is like calling out for shotgun and everyone wanted you to be on their team.
-
Namjoon sits between the hyenas and you’re genuinely scared when he’s around your friends, you still don’t know how far along Namjoon will be able to endure,  your friends are really heavy blooded and ruthless when it comes to joking and making fun of each other.
“It’s me, Namjoon, Yoongi and Mia against the rest of you.” Hoseok said while examining his cards.
You had already played a couple rounds and called it over, but they decided to continue playing since the bet just got higher and they all have alcohol in their systems.
“Yoongi and Mia should play in different teams.” Taehyung teases. “Make them fight.”
Yoongi flips Taehyung off and you look at Namjoon worried he may think this is too much, but he laughs and looks at his cards, his long fingers shuffling through them, a little too focused on them.
“Are they good?” You put your arm on the back of his chair, and he startles for a second, totally not used to being touched in public like that. “Hmm?” He looks at you, your noses almost brushing against each other. “Your cards.” You explain and brush a hair strand away from his face.
“Yeah, they’re not bad.” He says, looking back at his cards. “Come closer.” He proper grabs your chair and pulls you closer to him.
“Come on captain you’re up.” Jimin got way too excited, which makes everyone laughs at him at the nickname he just called Namjoon, and they continue calling him that for the rest of the game.
You get up to get more beer from the kitchen and you hear their voices go louder when the game gets hotter, you return to the living room and you see them pick at Namjoon for being too obvious with his expression, almost exposing his cards. He’s handling it well and biting back at them, they’re still joking of course. You grin and walk closer to him, wrapping an arm around him from behind. “Now stop teasing him will you.” You print a soft kiss on his neck, inhaling his perfume. “They’re just jealous you’re a better player.” You raise an eyebrow at the team playing against him.
Namjoon’s cheeks flush and his heart races a little, he’s been fighting the urge to touch you since the night started, he even finds himself salivating at the look of your bottom lip bitten between your teeth when you’re looking at him, his pants are getting a little uncomfortable for him.
Your actions don’t go unnoticed by your friends and you clearly see Jungkook smirking and Taehyung’s eyes locked onto Namjoon.
You pull your chair and get back into your seat next to him, you feel his thigh pressed against the side of yours and it burns to the touch, you’re trying so hard to control yourself but you’re on the verge of taking him to your bedroom for a little ‘chat’.
You lean in closer to put your chin on his shoulder and take a look at his cards, he’s already got the winning cards but he’s stalling you’re friends and messing with them. You look at him and your eyes meet, he grins and stares at your lips for a split second before looking back into your eyes.
Taehyung’s eyes are piercing at the two of you now which doesn’t go unnoticed by his girlfriend Jade, who ends up elbowing him subtly gaining his attention, but he just couldn’t help but to look back at Namjoon.
Taehyung himself has the highest body count out of everyone, and he’s been with way too many girls and he managed to get away with an excuse not to call them again, he even didn’t call Jade back after their first night together. He knows that men actually do end up calling back women they actually do find attractive, or women who they can benefit of.
Then he thinks, what would Namjoon want to benefit out of you? He’s financially stable, quite good looking he could just point out to any woman and she’ll go on her knees for him, a man with an admirable job, apparently someone who doesn’t mind long term relationship since he’s already married.
Oh yes, the man is married.
And Taehyung finds it funny that they’re all sitting there basically showing him that it’s okay to cheat on his wife with their best friend, gosh this is fucked up on so many levels.
Your friends know that Namjoon is your current fling, but if anyone outside of your circle who doesn’t get the context they would think you two are madly in love. No no…
They would think he’s madly in love.
Plus, Taehyung first considered Namjoon to be a total red flag, but after a couple hours from sitting around the table with him, he doesn’t seem half bad, actually, he’s really cool, and very smart.
Oh and for you?
You totally don’t care who’s looking and who’s not, you’re totally feeling up Namjoon’s thighs under the table, your fingers squeezing softly on his inner thigh, he manages to hide his facial expressions really well, but he man spreads his legs to give you more space to stroke more of his covered skin. “Royal flush.” He couldn’t wait to put his cards down on the table just so he can lay his palm over yours, proper grabbing it and putting it on his clothed erection. The idea itself is arousing the two of you when you’re surrounded by other people and teasing each other with touches from under the table.
“I’m calling Namjoon and y/n on my team the next round.” Hoseok calls which makes Seokjin argue. “That’s not fair, you only get to choose one.”
“Not a chance, Namjoon and I are a team.” You take a sip from your bear.
Of course Namjoon is unbothered by the argument, hell he’s not even listening, his eyes are fidgeting between your hand that’s rubbing his boner subtly under the table, and on your lips and chest rising when you’re breathing.
He could take you right now on the poker table and they can watch, he won’t mind.
-
“Next week, I promise I’ll find a place.” Hoseok suggests when they were already planning the next weekend with Namjoon, they usually discuss it with you but they’re all over the guy, and he’s doing pretty well that he was planning everything and they were listening carefully. You’re watching in awe as they talk to him like they’ve known him for years, and it makes you feel a little anxious.
You recall what he told you the other day, and he was totally right, this isn’t just a hookup, it’s way more than this and that’s what’s making you anxious.
Namjoon digs into his pocket to fish out his phone and he unlocks it. “My parents got this beach house on the outskirts, we could go there. It has a pool and a hot tub and we can light up the bonfire by the beach at night.”
Jungkook is standing really close to Namjoon, he even grabs the phone from the older’s hands and starts swiping through the pictures, an amused look on Jungkook’s face. “How rich are your parents? This house is incredible—Oops, sorry.” Both their faces change and you panic a little wondering what they saw, Jungkook swiped too far and a picture of Jay appears on the screen, of course Jungkook is smart enough to swipe back to the previous photos quickly without making it seem awkward, but it actually is.
You even earn a look from both Taehyung and Seokjin, the air even tenses up a little, you look at Namjoon who contains himself and acts like nothing happened, he thinks that they don’t know, and that they will probably assume that it’s his nephew or brother or anything. But really, they all do know and they’re not acting oblivious enough, thank god he doesn’t notice.
“Okay, clear up your schedules for the next weekend, no excuses y/n.” Jimin speaks sarcastically and you realize you’re holding your breath, you rejected going with them a couple weeks ago, but now since you have your plus one, you actually wanna go. “Shut up.” You squint your eyes at him.
“I should get going.” Seokjin gets up. “I’m on call tomorrow.”
“I need to go too, I’m visiting my parents tomorrow.” Jimin gets up too and walks closer to give you a hug. “I had so much fun tonight, thanks for having us.”
“I had fun too.” You kiss his cheek. “Drive safe.” And he bids goodbye with Seokjin and they get going.
You grab the empty plates and pickup the empty cans of bear when Mia gets up to grab the rest of the empty bowls. “Let me help you.”
Both of you head to the kitchen and you start rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, you can sense that Mia has something to say from the way she’s hovering around you and scratching her eyebrow awkwardly, her eyes carefully scanning you. “Are you okay?” You ask.
You and Mia always shared secrets together and she was always there for you, and so were you, she came up to you for an advice every time she had an argument with Yoongi, you both trust each other.
“Do you not see it?” She whispers, her hand sitting on her hip, one of your eyebrows cocks up in confusion, you’re totally clueless on what she’s about to say. “See what?”
“The way he looks at you, he’s head over heels.”
You roll your eyes before you chuckle. “Mia, Namjoon and I met exactly 6 weeks ago, of course he’s not head over heels for me, what are you talking about.”
“Honey, Yoongi asked me to be his girlfriend after our third date.” She spits. “And look at us now.”
You shrug one shoulder and shake your head. “I can’t see what you’re talking about, he’s still married and he has a child, so this is all probably temporary, no strings attached.”
“No strings attached?” She laughs quietly. “Girl, he’s over here handling your annoying friends on a Friday night. Plus, he’s getting a divorce, so this doesn’t count.”
You pause for a second before you look at the woman. “Who told you that?”
“Hobi told us.” She bites on her fingernails, the asshole did read the papers, but why didn’t he tell you?
“It doesn’t mean anything, he’s not getting the divorce because of me.” You step on the pedal of the trashcan to get rid of the empty cans of drinks.
She sighs. “I’m just saying think it through—“
“Of course I’m not going to, especially when I don’t know where he is about this.” You interrupt her, you had a point. Of course you’re not going to like a man who you met only 6 weeks ago, what if he was on a total different page than where you think you are?
“Baby? Come on, we should be going home.” Yoongi leans against the kitchen door frame and he feels like he interrupted something. “Is there anything wrong?”
“Not at all.” You turn towards the sink and wash your hands.
“What do you think about Namjoon?” Mia asks, her arms crossed, she already knows what her husband thinks, she just wants you to know that he thinks the same.
Yoongi pauses for a second before he puts his hands in his pockets. “I personally think he’s okay, but Jungkook out there is all over your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” You grit on your teeth before you peak your head out of the kitchen door, Jungkook is sitting really close next to Namjoon, and both of them are in what seems to be an important topic,  before he flexes his arm muscles and feels up Namjoon’s. Men.
You roll your eyes and get back into the kitchen. “Jungkook is all over everyone even himself.”
Yoongi laughs quietly before walking closer to you, pulling you into a soft hug. “It doesn’t matter what we think y/n, it’s what you think that matters. I know you wanted us to study the man, and we do actually like him, but it’s you who matters.” And his wife nods eagerly showing you that this somehow was her point too before she adds. “And he seems to fancy you a lot.”
“Yeah.” Yoongi agrees. “But take it slow, will you? The man is still married and we don’t know what’s happening next.”
You sigh and rub your forehead. He’s making sense, and you’re not sure why you’re a little afraid to admit that you finally like someone, but you do, except no matter how hard you think it’s okay to like someone, it still feels wrong when he’s involved with someone else.
“We had so much fun tonight, take care chief.” He squeezes you closer and kisses your cheek. “Goodnight.”
You walk them towards the door, they bid goodbye to everyone before they leave. Jungkook is still occupied talking with Namjoon and the poor guy is listening and he seems to be actually interested.
Taehyung and his girlfriend finally get up too, he walks closer to you to pull you in for a hug. “We had so much fun tonight.” He prints a soft kiss on your cheek before he whispers. “You wanna go out for coffee tomorrow? Just us two.”
You wrap your arms around him and kiss him back on the cheek. “Sure, I’ll call you.” You’re a little glad he suggested this date, you know he’s going to let it all out.
He nods and pulls back before saying goodbye to everyone, actually handshaking Namjoon specifically with a smile on his face, before he grabs his girlfriend and leaves.
You finally walk closer to Namjoon who’s sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, Jungook in front of him on the coffee table not planning to shut his mouth anytime soon, you squeeze in between them and sit on Namjoon’s leg and hug him closer.
The poor man isn’t used to being touched like this or publicly shown affection at all, he’s startled to the point where he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, you grab his arm and put it explicitly on your ass, totally unbothered by the existence of Hoseok and Jungkook.
They’ve done a lot worse so you secretly think that it’s your turn to finally do things like that.
“Did he give you a headache?” You pout, running your fingers through his hair and scratching the back of his head, he melts completely by your touch and he even closes his eyes, barely shaking his head.
“Oh, I’m the one having a headache, you’ve been blabbering nonstop.” Hoseok complains, gritting on his teeth at Jungkook, he gets up and collects his wallet and keys. “I’m going home, I’ll see you next week Namjoon.”
He manages to kiss you on the cheek softly while you’re still sitting on Namjoon’s legs before leaving and forcing Jungkook to finally leave.
You fall next to Namjoon on the couch, yawning and stretching your arms. “Can you please lock the door?”
He laughs quietly before using his palms for support to hover over you, printing a few kisses on your jaw and neck. “But I need to go home.” To which you immediately pout, “One night won’t hurt.”
He leans his forehead against yours and comes to realization, that the last time his lips touched yours was actually very long ago, and as much as he actually wanted to just fuck you senseless, he’s holding back to avoid making you uncomfortable, he doesn’t even dare to press his lips against yours.
He also can’t say no to you, he shrugs it off and finally nods. “One night won’t hurt.”
Even though both of you have been teasing each other with touches the entire night, you still can’t do anything with him since you’re on the last few days of your period.
He rises up on his feet and moves towards the door to lock it before clicking on a few buttons to dim the lights. And from his walk back towards you, you can easily tell that he’s been suffering with his boner that’s hiding in his jeans.
“I’m sorry.” You giggle playfully, he follows your eyesight and scoffs, his hands immediately rushing to his pockets to relieve some of the tightness. “Don’t worry, I got used to having blue balls my entire life.” He sarcastically speaks.
His joke makes you laugh your heart out, your head even falls back on the couch. He finds it contagious that he laughs with you, walking closer to lean his palm on the back of the couch and leaning down to kiss you on the neck and jaw, your laugh slowly halting down and your bottom lip sits between your teeth. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” He grabs you by your hand and pulls you up.
To say he’s trying so hard is an understatement. The way you currently look is making him near losing it, your hair is frizzy and your eyes are half closed, even your dress is no longer covering your legs. Fuck he needs to touch you.
“Ugh.” You groan when you look at the poker table. “Can you please take it inside?”
He looks back at the poker table and carries it up, his veiny arms about to rip his t-shirt open when they bulge, this big boy is insanely attractive that it’s hard for you to keep your hands to yourself.
-
“Of course not.” He pouts, you’re both in bed, your head on his bare chest and he’s tugging random strands of your hair, you look at him and squint your eyes. “Well, I do mind.”
He’s been trying to convince you since the moment you two got in bed, that he won’t mind sex during your period, and of course you argued with the only reasonable excuse, it’s going  to be a blood bath.
“Are you saying you don’t mind other stuff?” He suggestively asks, his finger tapping your nose softly, you know exactly what he means and you take a second to answer. “I don’t know, the whole idea is odd to me.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “We can try if you want to.” Which makes you scoff and roll your eyes. “You’re just saying that because your dick won’t go soft.” And he nods quickly. “I know, it won’t go soft when you’re this close to me and I can’t touch you.”
This knot sits in the pit of your stomach and you feel your body heat up, it feels really good to be sexually craved by someone, you love hearing it so much. “I can’t say I’m not flattered.” You lie down on your stomach, your elbows supporting your upper half as you grab a strand of your hair messing with it. “We could try I guess.”
He looks at your lips and licks his lower one, he could easily bust a nut at how far his imagination is going. “Okay.” He throws the blanket away from your bodies and drops it on the floor before bucking his hips up to pull his boxers down, his throbbing and already leaking cock slams against his lower stomach, the head already red and sensitive.
You swallow when you’re mouth suddenly excretes a stupid amount of saliva, you could kill to just choke on  his dick, you want to make him feel good.
He leans both his arms behind his head and gives you an inviting look, he’s fully surrendered to you, he wants you to help him.
You spit on your palm and wrap your fingers around his cock, instant heat rushes through his body and even his legs spread apart a little. He swallows once, his hand then moves to caress the side of your face softly, he’s been waiting for this moment for a while now.
You stroke his erection slowly, your  eyes focused on the only task you have in your hand, you wanted to just jerk him off at the beginning, but now you need to taste him.
You move your mouth closer to his dick and print the softest kiss on the tip, your eyes now locked into his, you lick once from the base of his shaft to the very tip, a string of saliva mixes with his precum and stays attached to your bottom lip, your other hand moves to the tip to smear his precum with your index finger before you put  it in your mouth, the saltiness sits on your taste buds, and it tastes fucking good.
His cock twitches in your hand at the sight of you doing so, you even giggle playfully and kiss the head again. “All that for me?” You whisper. His eyes almost roll to the back of his head when you wrap your lips around the head and bob your head down and up, your hair falling on your face. “Good fucking girl, just like  that.”
You bob your head lower each time before you pull back and stroke it again, you look him into the eyes and speak with a low voice. “I can suck your cock better than she does”
“Fuck!” He moans at the top of his lungs before he accidentally cums too fast, you even gasp when he shoots his cum in the air and it lands down on his stomach and on your hand, a little drop falling on the corner of your mouth, he holds the bed sheets into his fist and bucks his up with every spill. “Mmm,” His chest heaves dramatically when he’s done, his cock still in your hand and you’re still stroking him slowly. “Look at the mess you made.” You teasingly click your tongue, he looks down at you and smiles lazily. “This is so fucking embarrassing.”
You giggle and climb up towards him, you press the softest kiss on his lips and he immediately kisses you back eagerly, begging to feel more of your lips against his, he’s been wanting to kiss you the entire night, he licks your bottom lip and grabs your head closer, his tongue licks the small drop of his cum near your lips and he spits it into your mouth and you’re more than glad to swallow it.
He pulls back from the kiss and grabs your hand. “Let me clean you up.” He licks every drop of cum off of your fingers and kisses you back on the lips to spit the remaining cum into your mouth and again you swallow.
He wraps his arms around your hips and turns you so you lay flat on the bed, he hovers on top of you and prints small kisses repeatedly on your lips before he moves down to your neck, kissing it and licking softly which makes your body heat up again.
Namjoon never had the chance to study the female body correctly, his previous sexual life was solely just about getting the job done, of course it felt good to him, but with you this whole experience feels new to him and it’s filled with ecstasy. He wanted to explore your body, know what you’re into, not just because it felt insanely erotic to him, but he wanted to please you and make you feel good and satisfied.
He moves down to your chest, your nipples are perked up from underneath your tight white top from the blood pumping all over your body, almost begging to be touched by him, his index finger circles your hard covered nipple softly, his eyes focused on it and his tongue running on his lower lip.
He sticks his tongue out and licks the fabric once, rubs it with his index finger again and now using his thumb to pinch it lightly, your cunt feels numb and you can’t press your thighs together since he’s nestled between your legs.
The moisture he applied to your clothed nipple makes the shirt no longer white, it’s started to get see through and he can see it better now. “You can take my top off if you want to.” You suggest, a little out of breath, he looks up into your face to see the really obvious red flush on your face, now he’s a little more eager to make you cum.
He doesn’t hesitate as his warm fingers climb on your torso from under the shirt and he throws it off of you, your breasts fully exposed to him now, one of his hands lean on the pillow behind you to support his upper half, and the other gropes your breast in a tight grip, fuck, It hurts, but still feels so good.
He leans down and licks the valley between your tits and licks your nipple before sucking on it for his dear life, pulling his head back a little with your breast still in his mouth, the tugging makes your back arch against him, your hand moves to grab his wrist that’s leaning against the pillow. “Shit.” You clench your jaw when you feel your nipple sitting between his teeth, your eyes meet and he grins, almost threatening to actually bite it.
You grab onto his face, your thumb on his right cheek and the rest of your fingers on his left one. “No biting.”
Seeing you under him like that is more than enough to make him erect all over again like he didn’t just shoot a load a couple minutes ago, you find out when you accidentally graze your thigh between his legs and you feel his cock brushing against your skin. You really are flattered.
And he obeys, moving to your other breast to give it some love, before he turns you to lay on your side, and he lays behind you skin to skin, his arm sits under your head and he leans his forehead on the side of your face to kiss your ear. “Did I tell you how much I liked the dress you were wearing tonight?”
Your eyes automatically shut when you feel his hot breath into your ear when he speaks, you let out a breath when your head falls back against his. “You had no idea how much I wanted to bend you over that poker table and fuck your tight cunt.” He whispers, no he explicitly moans into your ear when he speaks. “Let them see how good your man can stretch that tight little pussy of yours.”
You shut your eyes tightly and you can’t take it anymore, you need to cum, you need him to touch you or do anything, you have to cum. “Fuck, Namjoon it hurts.”
“Hmm?” He hums, kissing your ear again, your hand moves to hold onto his that you’re leaning your head onto, you squeeze onto his palm and beg. “Please, please make me cum.”
He could embarrassingly cum fast like he did a couple minutes ago, but this time he’s able to hold back.
“You wanna cum?” He teasingly asks, his free hand grazes on the side of your body before it moves to your ass, he squeezes it into his palm and gives you the hardest spank ever, your butt cheek tingles with heat, on regular bases it would hurt, but now, it’s pushing you closer to your end.
His fingers hook on the elastic band of your panties before he pulls it down to reach your thighs, then wraps his fingers around his erection and settles it against your folds, your wet cunt glazing his cock and making it glisten when he rubs it in between your folds.
The numbness in your cunt hurts and you could feel your arousal on your own thighs, you’re getting way too impatient and eager for him that you grind your hips against his. You know he’s not going to penetrate since you’re basically still on your period, so grinding will do the job.
He grabs onto the back of your thigh and lifts one of your legs up to give him the desired space to start grinding against your folds, the slickness from your cunt making it easier to grind against you.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel the tip of his dick rub against your throbbing clitoris repeatedly, your jaw drops and you even reach for the back of his head behind you and pull onto his hair. “You’re gonna make me cum, please—“
“I know baby, can you hold back for me just a little?” He whispers into your ear, his irregular breath against your ear sending shivers across your body. “Just a little.” And you respond with shaking your head, your lips falling between your teeth, the knot inside your stomach is going to burst any second now. “I can’t.” You tug onto his hair tighter and grind your hips against his, your butt cheek slams against his body and you finally release, the heat washes through your spine and back and you could see starts in your eyes. “Ha.. Namjoon, I’m sorry.. I couldn’t.” Your hand falls and you start panting for a breath.
He kisses your ear softly and runs his hand on your thighs, pressing his fingers lightly into your skin and he can feel the heat of your body on his fingers tips. “You’re off the hook this time.” He teasingly whispers before he pulls back from behind you, his eyes land on his dick and he sees how much you’ve soaked him with your cream and he smirks, totally ignoring the little smear of blood on his dick.
He sits up on his knees on the bed and helps you lay flat on the bed again before pressing his lips against yours for a few wet kisses, his tongue grazing on your lower lip, his hand grabs onto yours and he leads it to his cock that’s seconds away to busting a nut.
Your body already feels loose that it takes you seconds to gather the strength to stroke his cock, taking the speed up every second, pleasure washes through his entire body that he can’t focus on the kiss and return it to you, his forehead falls against yours and his jaw falls down, his breath quickening and his eyelids falling down slowly. “That’s it.” He managed to hiss under his breath, both his palms sit on the pillow behind you and he lets you do all the work, your hands are getting tired that you have to stop for a second to change your rhythm, which makes him hold his cock into his own hands and stroke it fast.
You feel the need to not waste a drop, so you position your head near his cock and stick your tongue out, clearly telling him to cum on your mouth and face, and that’s the last thing he needs to see so he just lets go and shoots out continuous ribbons of his seed on your tongue and face, decorating it just the way he likes, and he swears you looked fucking gorgeous with his cum all over your face. “Fuck-“ He grunts and his hand falls down, his cock twitching and still shooting out cum on your tongue.
One of your hand grazes on his big thighs and the other one just cleans the cum off of your face to put it into your mouth, your eyes meets his and he stares at you out of breath and in awe, watching you clean every drop of his seed and put it into your mouth, you smirk when you see his cock twitching at the sight, before you stick your tongue out to show him the cum you gathered inside your mouth and swallow it, giving your lower lip a single lick. “Hmm.” You sit up on your knees and pull your panties back up, before wrapping your arms around his shoulder and smacking your tongue teasingly at him. “You taste okay.” You shrug, which makes him laugh and wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, his soft dick grazing on your lower stomach. “You’re fucking incredible.”
“I know.” You tease and kiss his cheek once. “Now you can go to sleep.”
Both of you lay down on the bed, his back faces you and you hug him from behind, kissing his bare shoulder softly before you finally go to sleep.
-
You walk into the warm café and the scent of the freshly roasted coffee beans and freshly bakes pastries wafts through your nose, you miss going to cafés like that since you’ve been deprived from it ever since you started your job, you used to study in coffee shops back then.
You look around and finally spot Taehyung on one of the tables waving his hand towards you, you walk closer to him, give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before you pull the chair across from him and take a seat.
Almost one hour in and you two spend it catching up on daily things, his job, yours, his girlfriend and how he’s planning to ask her to move it, before he finally speaks of the not so forgotten topic and asks you about Namjoon.
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you?” You ask him, your eyes locked into his face to study his features, you’re getting anxious slowly and impatient to know what he thinks.
He takes a long sip of his iced Americano before he rests his back against the chair and crosses his arms. “Does it matter what I say?” And that confuses you for a second. “He seems to like you, but we need to address the elephant in the room y/n, he’s still married and you don’t even know where you are on this whole thing.” He shrugs.
You lean your elbows on the table and shrug. “You’re right, but I’m not being delusional Tae, he clearly feels something, don’t you think?”
And he nods. “Perhaps, yeah.” Before he continues. “Look we just need to give it some time, you guys just started talking and you’re just high on each other.”
You huff and take a sip of your drink. “The man is perfect” And it feels like a heavy weight on your shoulder just disappeared when you finally said that to someone. Taehyung grins and shrugs slightly. “The guys like him.”
“And you?”
“I do.” He says. “But it doesn’t matter what any of us thinks, it’s all up to you.”
“You’re not really helping me.” You whine and hit his leg from under the table.
“We can’t discuss anything right now, we need to know where he is at least, we could be reading him wrong after all.” He rubs his leg before cursing at you under his breath.
“Then what are we doing here?” You blink your eyes, “I thought we were going to discuss the entire thing.”
“I just want you to take everything slow, we’re all here for you and we’ve got your back.” He puts his hand over yours and squeezes it softly. “You’re a successful woman, who’s smart enough to take her own decisions and know what’s good for her and what’s not.”
You thought the heavy weight on your shoulders is gone but it’s slowly returning, you’ve always seen people falling in and out of love and you always rolled your eyes at the entire idea, why would people deliberately go through relationships when most of them go down the pooper? That’s why you never did relationships.
And now for a second you judge Namjoon, this man is going through a rough patch in his life all because of his failed marriage, and yet again he’s right here, clearly developing feelings for you and choosing to go sort of the same path again.
“You’re right.” You nod. “I would be lying if I told you I didn’t like the man, I actually do and he ticks everything on my list, I just need to be careful, that’s all.”
“Good.” He squeezes your hand again for reassurance. “How good is the sex?”
Your drink goes through your nose and you actually choke, you cover your mouth and cough repeatedly trying to clear out your airway. “Shut up.” You manage to curse at him.
-
“What do you mean? Of course this can’t happen.” Her father is in mere denial, the divorce papers fall accidentally in his hands. Copies has been sent in the mail on Monday morning to him and his daughter.
She wanted this to happen long time ago but she didn’t realize that she’s dragging down her entire family with her. She too was silenced and forced by her father to do the whole thing since the beginning, so she saw it coming.
She’s going to have to pay for all the manipulation that was done by her family to Namjoon’s.
Namjoon didn’t even tell anyone about the divorce that was going to happen, he filed for it a little before he met you, and then when he did meet you, he knew that he cannot and will not end up with the woman he has under his roof, this can’t be his ending. So he called a few people and even paid his lawyer to help him end it faster.
Her on the other hand just locked the door behind her when she got back to their house, the mail is in her hand and although the title is already clear, she’s still confused by it..
Ministry of Justice,
Seoul family court, Gangnam.
Divorce Agreement.
With her full name on it, she squints her eyes and finally opens the mail eagerly, almost ripping the envelope, luckily Jay slept on the way home, she carried him into his bed before she opened the mail.
It’s her name, and Namjoon’s name, she did see it coming, but she never knew how she would react. But she’s breaking into cold sweat, worried what her family might think if they knew.
Her purpose of this marriage is long gone when she finished her education that was paid by Namjoon’s parents, her parents live off of his family now, but she never needed their money, she never bought herself clothes, makeup, or even anything she craved because it’s their money.
She didn’t pay actual money for her education, she paid her life when she decided to share it with Namjoon.
She despises him, the way he talks, the way he moves, his hands, his eyes, his face. She hates his sense of humor, his voice tone. She even hates the way he breathes or snores. She too, can’t end up with him.
And no matter how hard she tried to convince her family that she’d do anything to make them live a better life without the Kim’s, it ended up with fights and arguments and actual threats from them.
So she went with it, married the man, but she made a promise to herself, that she’s going to turn his life into hell, she never cared what would happen to him, or if it would hurt him or not, so she just went ahead.
And the divorce papers in her hand are the actual clue that her plan worked. But fuck, she knows that this divorce will wreck their lives. She’s terrified by her family.
The door unlocks and Namjoon walks in and he’s in his uniform since he just flew back from Gwangju, he doesn’t even bother to look at her, he kicks off his shoes and loosens his tie.
Something inside her tells her to just make things right, so she just hides the papers back into the envelope and quickly into her purse. “N-namjoon?”
He turns his back to her and walks into his room, closing the door behind him, he still doesn’t know that she got the papers.
She takes a few steps closer to the door and her hand hovers over the door knob, she’s a split second away from opening the door, but Namjoon locks it from the inside.
She doesn’t know what she wants, or what to do.
-
“Please? I’ve been wanting to go for a while.” He whines with a pout on his face that you can hear through the phone.
You’re in your bed, you were sleeping before he called you since you were on the previous night shift, you have the phone pressed against your ear with your eyes still closed, he’s been trying to convince you about the wine tasting tour.
“I’ll come pick you up, and you can call it a date.”
Your eyes are no longer closed when he speaks of a date this easily, you two haven’t been together alone in public other than the day of your conference, and it was a coincidence that day. But he’s asking you to go out on a date with him, and you weren’t even sure you were at that point yet.
“Joon—“ You sigh. “I don’t know.”  Your phone starts vibrating in your hand and you look at the screen to find him requesting a video chat, and you don’t hesitate a second to accept the call.
Your faces meet and he’s lost at the sight of you for a second before he smiles, his pearly whites and dimples clearly visible. “You’re still in bed?” He asks, leaning his phone on the nightstand near his bed, you could see him topless and unzipping his pants.
“Yeah.” You rub  your eyes and stretch, leaning your phone against the pillow next to yours and snuggling under the blanket. “How was your flight?”
“Don’t change the subject.” He smirks. “Are we going wine tasting tonight?” a smile creeps on your face before you click your tongue. “Let me think about it, I need time to decide.”
He puts his clothes on the couch next to his bed while laughing and walking back to his phone to grab it. “Alright. Until then, what are you wearing?” He licks on his bottom lip as he finally sits on his bed and lights up a cigarette.
You take a long breath before you teasingly look under your blanket.
It’s boiling hot outside, and you’ve had too many snacks on your shift that you couldn’t wait to get home and actually get rid of your scrubs, so you chose to sleep with only your panties.
“A ball gown.” You joke, barely stifling a smirk. And he laughs quietly, trying not to be loud. “I don’t believe you.”
“I like to dress to impress, mister Kim.” You giggle, he raises an eyebrow and blows a cloud of smoke. “Then show it to me.”
He knows you’re not wearing anything since he can see your bare shoulders, you have your blanket covering your upper half. “How was your flight again?” You ask and he rolls his eyes. “You’re such a tease.”
You crack a laugh at him before you finally nod. “Alright, I’ll go on the wine tasting tour with you.”
“Thank you.” He smiles at his phone screen. “I’ll come by this afternoon and we’ll be picked up from your place.”
Namjoon heard about this tour from one of the cabin crew earlier this week, and he’s been wanting to go since then and he wanted to go with you, he’s itching to show you off in public even when he still can’t and you two aren’t even labeled yet.
He enjoys your company so much, and he knows you do too, he can be himself around you and he knows he won’t be judged.
“Okay.” You yawn and snuggle into your blanket, still sleepy. “Can I get back to sleep?”
His lips curve into a little smile when he admires how cute you look when you’re tired and sleepy, he’s admiring your face for too long that he even forgot to answer you. “Namjoon?” You ask, which snaps him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, alright. I’ll see you later.”
You nod before you wave your hand to him, he waves back and finally ends the call and you go back to sleep.
Namjoon on the other hand, finishes booking for the tour while he’s taking the last few puffs of his cigarettes before his phone starts to glitch, it seems to be that there are two people calling him at the same time, and it’s his father and father in law, which makes him panic for a second.
Of course he decides to ignore his father in law’s call and call back his own father. “Dad?”
His father’s voice tone full of worry when speaks. “Namjoon? What’s the matter? Is it true what they’re talking about?”
Namjoon is completely clueless that everyone knows of the divorce now, he’s even clueless that his wife got the papers. “What are you talking about?”
“The divorce? Is it really happening?” He asks, and Namjoon doesn’t hesitate for a second to answer. “Yes dad, I made that decision on my own.”
“You two were incredible together, what’s the matter?” That makes Namjoon scoff, “Are you sure we can’t work things out?”
“No dad, nothing can fix this.” Namjoon swallows the dry lump in his throat, he regrets the years he spent with his wife, he wishes he can just erase that chapter from his life because it did engrave a type of trauma into him.
His father is in denial and so is his father in law, everything seemed to be okay to them, but they never saw anything behind closed doors.
“Please tell him to never contact me, and if he has anything to say, tell him to save it until the day of the hearing.” Namjoon says with a solid tone, not willing to negotiate the entire thing what so ever.
“When’s your hearing?” His father asks and Namjoon answers. “September 12th.”
An audible sigh escapes his father’s mouth. “But son, that’s your birthday.”
“I know, and I got everything under control dad, don’t worry.” Namjoon’s stomach drops when he speaks of the hearing, he feels extremely anxious and  impatiient.
He’s confident that after going through this difficult and challenging experience, he will be starting fresh and new that day.
He cannot wait to feel reborn.
271 notes · View notes
spacecowboyhotch · 2 months
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In Plain Sight: Family Dinner
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summary: nathan meets your sisters— alternatively, you get grilled by your family (nathan joins in of course).
pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader
contents: this entire series is 18+, SIBLINGSSSSSS, talks of dating, bi!reader, teasing, food mention, mentions of caretaking/sick parent, kissing, nathan is so in love (so is reader)
wc: 1,465
an: back at it with these two again. i adore them. i love them. this is lowkey chaos. and nathan sort of fits in perfectly with her family’s chaos which i was expecting to struggle with a bit. thank you to @juneknight for always being there to listen and brainstorm, you’re too good to me!
in plain sight masterlist | tiana | planted | little hamlet
3 months post To Atomize
“If neither of you are ready he doesn’t have to come. But, he’s very excited to meet you.”
Emma and Phillipa are sat on the couch as you stand— more like pace— in front of them. You shouldn’t be nervous, it’s not like this is the first time they’ve met someone you’ve been involved with. Nathan isn’t just somebody is he though? Asshole boss turned slightly less asshole boyfriend. The word feels weird in your mouth, not just because 6 months ago you were calling him Mr. Bateman, but because he seems like so much more than that.
All of his talk of being obsessed, about being consumed, well you feel the same way. You aren’t sure that the term boyfriend really compasses that. But, who would you be to shut that down— saying it doesn’t feel right, or strong enough— when Nathan had the most smug, giddy look on his face when he called you his girlfriend for the first time?
“Oh my god, don’t be a chicken, we’re ready,” Phillipa gripes, leaning back against the couch to more easily fish her phone out of her pocket.
“Hey, don’t call me a chicken.”
“You’ve been dating Mr. Bateman forever,” She says, scrolling on her phone. “It’s been on Twitter.”
“Its been 6 months. Call him Nathan, he's not some stuffy old man.” You say. Well— he’s not old at least. “And please don’t mention Twitter, I’m perceived enough these days.”
Emma pipes up finally, “Phil says that’s a hella long time.”
You narrow your eyes at the older girl who’s giving your younger sister a similar look. “Phil says hella, does she?”
“Emma you swore you wouldn’t tell!”
“I didn’t! I used it in a sentence!”
“Okay, okay— we don’t yell at each other.. You’re both sure?”
“Yes!” They say together with different levels of eagerness, though they’re both excited.
You regard them with wary eyes. Nathan’s excited. They’re excited. Your nerves are certainly there, but you are too.
“Alright but I need you both to be on your best behavior. Be the sweet girls I know you are. And no more cussing. Either of you.”
Nathan’s been uncharacteristically quiet but you know that he’s just gathering information, feeling things out. But, Phillipa takes that as nerves and being the rebellious teenager that she is, she wants to have some fun.
She mixes up the pasta in front of her, examines it as she nonchalantly asks, “Nathan, where do babies come from?”
Nathan bites back a nervous laugh. “Don’t they teach you that in sex ed? I mean scientifically speaking it’s a bore but—“
“Nathan,” You grit out in warning, your eyes meeting his.
He gets the message straight away, going in for a different method of attack. “I could make a baby with my bare hands. Program it to never cry or eat, to sleep its 16 hours.”
Emma perks up. “Like a babydoll? Mine is broken.”
“Emma, a new doll is on your Christmas list. It's not broken, you just want the new one,” Phillipa says, reaching for the red pepper flakes.
“I could build her one that's better than anything you could buy on the market. Those things crap out, they malfunction.”
Your brow furrows as you look over at Nathan, this is not where you expected this conversation to go, though you’re not ungrateful. “You’re going to build my sister a doll?”
“Oh, please? Please, please, Mr. Bateman!”
“I told you to call him Nathan, Em.”
Phillipa leans in, “Hey, what about me? Emma gets a doll what do I get.”
“Nathan isn't here to give you thinks, Phil, he was just here to meet you.”
“That depends on what you like Philippa. I can do anything,” Nathan proclaims, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms.
“Nobody can do anything.”
“That was before you met me. Name it.”
“I’m gonna think of something super impossible.”
“I look forward to proving you wrong, Phil.”
Phil studies him for a moment, trying to decide if she’ll say what’s on her mind. “You’re cooler than anybody she’s ever dated.”
“Oh really?”
“Phil, please,” You plead, completely abandoning eating in turn for twirling your pasta anxiously.
Phillipa ignores completely ignores you, grinning at Nathan’s interest. “Yeah, the last guy she brought looked like Goofy and sounded like Mickey Mouse.”
“Mickey Mouse, huh? You into rats, sweetheart?”
“What about the lady with the curly hair? I liked her,” Emma says softly.
Nathan’s brows raise as he trains his gaze on you. “The lady?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Your sisters and Nathan grilling you— together. This was simultaneously the best and the worst idea. They had to meet of course, what with you being pretty sure you want to spend the rest of your life with Nathan. But did they have to gang up on you like a well choreographed dance? Especially on the first go of it.
“We were friends. How do you even remember her, Em, you were a toddler?” You look at her with eyes that say back off but she’s 7, in her own world, having a great time.
Nathan’s building her a babydoll for gods sakes.
Emma grins, “She always gave me candies.”
“Wait a fuc—“ He stops himself, mindful of your sisters, repeating with just as much shock as before, “a lady?”
“Friends,” You emphasis again.
“I literally caught you two kissing,” Phil says, rolling her eyes.
“Philippa—“
Nathan throws his head back, laughing loudly, “Not much of an explanation for that, is there honey?”
“It never went anywhere— not that I owe to any of you to explain,” You give all of them narrowed eyes, your face feeling hotter than the surface of the sun.
“They were all nice at least,” Philippa muses, twirling some pasta around her fork.
“Like I would bring home somebody that would be mean to either of you.”
“Phillipa says people say Nathan’s a jackass,” Emma announces before stuffing more garlic bread in her mouth.
You fix Phillipa with an icy look, and she quickly looks away, suddenly very interested in the basket of garlic bread in front of her. “When I told you to spend more time with your sister, that really did not include teaching her swear words.”
“I like swear words!” Emma protests.
Nathan leans in, smiling wide, eyes glittering mischievously, “Emma, so do I.”
You lean closer to Nathan, whispering, “Honey, you’re not helping.”
“Right. Lips zipping,” He whispers back, straightening up.
You turn back to your sisters. “Less swear words, more dinner. Or are you finished?”
“I’m finished. Can we have the brownies Phillipa made?”
“Of course, little one. Phillipa? Nathan?”
Phil just gives you a nod, while Nathan says, “All good, sweetheart.”
Dessert is much more mellow, and afterwards Nathan offers to do the dishes for you so that you can make sure your sisters get to bed alright. Once you’ve said goodnight to them, you return to your room. You find Nathan there, fingers tracing the trinkets and family heirlooms that sit on your desk.
You shut the door quietly behind you, “I told you they were…”
“Like you?” Nathan suggests, his mouth sitting in that smug grin.
You scoff. “Nosy. I’m not nosy.”
“You’re pretty fucking nosy.”
“Am not.”
“I didn’t say I disliked it about you honey, don’t get your panties in a twist,” He reaches for you, crowding you against the wall near your bed.
“My panties are untwisted, Nathan,” You say matter of factly, unimpressed with him.
He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “Can I take them off then?”
“My sisters are down the hall, so is my mom,” You whisper, a little breathless and Nathan takes note of that.
“I thought you liked covering my mouth?” He asks, pulling away from your neck to wag his eyebrows at you. You stare up at him, eyes alight, mouth flat. He wants to kiss you until his brain melts out of his ears but digresses. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bateman,” You say, your voice a little exasperated though there’s a smile pulling at your lips. You detangle yourself from him, starting towards the door. “I’ll get you some towels to shower and check on my mom.”
“You’ll let me know if she’s up for company?” Nathan watches you deflate, sorry that he even asked. But, he’s eager to meet the woman who raised you. He wants to ask questions and know more about the both of you.
“Yeah, I’ll let you know,” You murmur.
“If not, I’ll just write her a note. You know I’m good for it,” He murmurs, nodding head towards the note he’d written you that sits on your nightstand. “Come back here. Please.”
When you cross the room to him, he pulls in close, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that makes you so dizzy you can’t remember that you were sad.
“What was that for?”
He raises a brow at you, “What, I can’t kiss my girlfriend whenever I want?”
“You and that word are really going strong?”
“You jealous?”
“Nathan, that would make a negative amount of sense, my love.”
He starts to kiss at your neck like before, using a little more teeth this time. “Oh that’s new. I like that. Say it again.”
“To the shower, Bateman.”
nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho, @redcake333
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ghosthunterbuck · 2 years
Text
stored in the kitchen
(buddie) (850 words) (spoilers for 5x14)
Eddie puts Buck’s heart on the fridge. 
He isn’t sure why he does it – after all, it’s not really something he’s done before. He’s always framed Christopher’s art, or helped him carefully pin it to the cork board in his room. But the fridge, for all its magnets, has always remained bare. 
And it still is, mostly, but for one cartoon heart held up by three colorful magnets. 
Buck grins when he sees it, and that, if nothing else, makes it worth having been done. And that’s the end of it.
That’s the end of it until a few weeks later when Frank asks Eddie what makes him smile and Eddie immediately thinks of the heart that’s stuck to his fridge, which makes him think of Buck, which really shouldn’t be all that surprising except– 
Frank’s first question hadn’t been “what makes you smile”’ No, his original question was “what do you want?”
And now Eddie has an answer for both of them. And no idea what to do with it. And Frank can see it on his face. 
“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” Frank requests. 
For the first time in weeks, Eddie nearly says no. Because he can talk about his trauma now, right? He can talk about the shooting, and the war, and watching Shannon die, and even his parents sometimes, but this– this feels bigger than all of that somehow. 
Which is– ridiculous, right? Because it’s Buck. Of course it’s Buck. How could the answer to either of those questions be anyone else?
But on the other hand, it’s Buck. His best friend. His best friend who’s a man. His best friend who’s a man who Eddie’s in love with and oh god, how could he have missed that?
There’s a million things he could say but the thing that comes out is: “Am I gay?”
For a split second, Frank looks taken aback. The small corner of Eddie’s brain that’s not currently occupied by the swirling mess of his feelings takes that as a win. Eddie: one, Frank: …probably like two hundred. 
Frank schools his expression quickly. “That’s something only you can know for sure. But it’s okay if you are. What makes you ask?”
Eddie swallows, but he doesn’t look away. “You asked– you asked what makes me smile. And what I want. And…” he gestures helplessly.
“And?” Frank prompts. 
“He’s the answer,” Eddie says faintly. “Buck’s the answer.”
.
Eddie leaves therapy with three pamphlets on sexuality and a mild identity crisis, but hey, only the pamphlets are really new. 
He’s kind of afraid to go home, because what is he supposed to say when Buck asks him how therapy went? “Oh, good session, by the way I realized I’m in love with you, want to help me take a buzzfeed quiz to figure out the difference between bisexuality and pansexuality?” doesn’t really feel like it’s going to cut it. 
He goes to the grocery store instead. He doesn’t have a list, so instead he grabs anything that catches his attention. Christopher’s favorite cereal, Buck’s favorite chips. Pasta because they’re out, mustard powder because Buck keeps telling him to try it. A bag of apples, honeycrisp, obviously, because they’re the ones that Buck always gets and oh fuck Eddie really is an idiot isn’t he?
The thing is, he already knew Buck was a part of his family. He knew that, and somehow he still hadn’t seen what it all meant. He’s in love with Buck. He’s attracted to Buck. He probably has been this entire time, and he’d what– ignored it? Pushed it all down? Eddie knows he’s been hypocritical before when it comes to feelings, but this seems like a whole new level. 
Eddie’s angry, and sad, and maybe a little bit guilty, but beneath it all is a burning desire to go home, because that’s where Buck is, and even now, Eddie knows Buck will make him feel better. He checks out, and only notices as the cashier scans it that he’d grabbed Buck’s favorite candy too. Eddie sighs. He’s just going to be Like This, huh?
.
“Hey, how was therapy?” Buck asks, grinning and holding a hand out for the groceries. 
Eddie hands over half the bags. “Good,” he says. He clears his throat. “Brought up something… interesting.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Buck asks. 
Eddie shakes his head and follows Buck into the kitchen. “Not yet,” he says. He catches sight of the heart stuck to the fridge and smiles, realizing he means it. Not yet, but someday. Maybe even someday soon. 
(That someday comes not even two months later, when Buck’s elbows deep in sudsy dish water, has been single for three weeks, and smiles in a way that’s so incredibly beautiful that Eddie can’t keep it in a second longer. 
Their first kiss is wet and soapy and wonderful, and Eddie stops it only long enough to pull Buck away from the fridge, because he is not ruining that heart. If Eddie gets his way, he’ll have that thing for the rest of his life. 
He does.)
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pagegirlintraining · 3 months
Text
AO3 wrapped (writer’s edition)
Well, this was a lovely way to close out the year. Here goes:
1. How many words have you written this year?
An unbelievable 331,924 👀
2. How many works did you publish this year?
12 in total. 6 are oneshots, and of the rest I’ve finished 4.
3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?
I’m extremely proud of Oh, Those Summer Nights. The dialogue in this one flows so beautifully, I love the way I got to incorporate some of my favorite places in Stockholm, and it just altogether has this magical atmosphere about it.
But also, for entirely different reasons, Vi har bara varandra, det är allt vi behöver. Because I wrote a freaking story in Swedish, what even?!
4. What work of yours has the most hits?
Overall it’s Dancing Through Life with a little over 22k, but considering we didn’t start publishing The Prince And The Popstar until August this year, the 16k on that one feel worth mentioning. On a chapter basis they’re also very close to one another.
5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?
The Prince And The Popstar. For sure. That one blew both of us away I think.
6. Favorite title you used?
Both One, two, three, four, five, sex on my mind and Stop the world (I wanna get off with you) fit so nicely with what the respective stories are about.
7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?
I haven’t actually checked, but it’s probably Sabrina Carpenter from Prince and Popstar alone 😂
8. Pairing you wrote the most for this year?
Wilmon. They’re also the only pairing I wrote for.
9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?
Same answer as 8.
10. What work was the quickest to write?
Copy and Pasta went from a batshit idea to a fully-written thing within 4 hours, that’s got to be a personal record.
11. What work took you the longest to write?
The writing process of Prince and Popstar was very spread out because both @the-amber-fox and I had lots of life stuff happen in between. All in all it took us 4 months to even have enough to start posting, and then another 3 to finish it.
12. How many WIPs do you have in your docs for next year?
I have two new ones I firmly plan on writing, and one idea I’m not so sure about yet. Also two I plan on finishing next year.
13. What’s your longest work of the year?
Based on the amounts of them that were written this year, it’s The Prince And The Popstar. Then again I only wrote about half of that, so it may also be The Time Of My Life with 45501 words and counting.
14. What’s your shortest work of the year?
Vi har bara varandra, det är allt vi behöver (714 words) for obvious reasons 😂
15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?
Dancing through life (don’t look at me, I swear I will get myself to finish that epilogue at some point🙈), The Time Of My Life and Killing me softly (with his song), which still hasn’t gotten a second chapter yet but is very much not abandoned.
16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?
Alternate Universe. Who else is not surprised?
17. Your favorite character to write this year?
I swear, the answer to this changes every time I think about it. For now I’ll go with my Dirty Dancing AU version of Simon, because he’s somehow the version that feels closest to canon Simon even though plot wise the story is the farthest from canon. That’s a nice mental stretch to keep up.
18. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?
Can you hear me laughing? It’s Wilmon all the way.
19. Which work of yours have you reread the most?
It’s probably a tie between Copy and Pasta (short, sweet, always cheers me up) and the already existing parts of The Time Of My Life (it’s two of my favorite things combined, has my favorite version of Wille I’ve written and some beautiful Wilmon moments I really like revisiting).
20. How many kudos in total did you get this year?
4448.
21. Which work has the most comments?
Per chapter it’s The Prince And The Popstar.
22. Did you do any collaborative works this year?
Yessss 😍 I realized the other day that I’ve written four complete works with my darling @the-amber-fox this year and could not believe it. They’ve been some of my faves to write, and that’s hugely thanks to her, so thanks 💜
I also got to write the first chapter of Killing me softly with the amazing @ishotforthestars . Mayyyyybe we’ll get back to that one for a special occasion…😁
23. Did you write any gifts this year?
I sure did. Got to cowrite two birthday presents, for and with @the-amber-fox and @ishotforthestars respectively. Then another birthday present for @omaremioo and a Christmas present for @zee-has-commitment-issues .
24. Did you receive any gifts this year?
Yes again. Got a lovely birthday gift and the very best Christmas gift this year (Thanks, Foxy, and thanks times two, Elin 😂🫶🏼)
25. What’s your most common category?
M/M unsurprisingly.
26. What do you listen to while writing?
When I do it’s either my ever-growing annual playlist or the cheesiest 80s ballads for intimacy scenes.
27. Favorite work you wrote this year?
I think I’ve had the most fun with Prince and Popstar, but the most moments of giddy pride with The Time Of My Life. That’s all I can say for this one.
28. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?
I can’t possibly choose a favorite, mostly because I’d have to reread all of them and I don’t have a whole week off to do it😄 so I’ll go with something that, while pretty simple, resonated with me a lot when I reread it: “Just because that’s what he expects doesn’t mean it’s what you need to give him, Simon.”
29. Biggest surprise while writing this year?
Learning that despite what I’d been told before, I seem to have a knack for comedic writing.
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brendathedoodler · 1 year
Note
*raises hand timidly* about that Hero Mr L AU, in your last answer you mentionned s post game part of that AU, so does Mr L ever regain his memories ?
(Haven't actually played SPM yet, so I don't know much about actual plot events outside of "Luigi gets brainwashed and adopted by the bad guys, Mr L happens and is a riot, and he almost causes the end of the world when he actually regains his memories')
Wonderful question!
I have two versions of the au’s postgame, and in one of them he absolutely does.
The end of the world is avoided, Count Bleck and Tippi have vanished but are living happily ever after, Dimentio is dead (supposedly), and the rest of the villains aren’t trying to destroy all worlds anymore.
However, Mr L is still Mr L. Just as the villains go to leave, Mario reaches out and grabs Nastasia by the arm.
“You were the one who brainwashed my brother. Can you fix him?”
Nastasia confirms that she can. It would be quite easy for her, in fact. She turns towards the heroes and her glasses meet Mr L’s white eyes.
He freezes in place. He’s always been afraid of her, though he’s never had a specific reason why. Staring her down, though, it doesn’t matter why. He can’t let her get rid of him.
Mr L has heard Mario talk about how different Luigi was. Bringing Luigi back would mean getting rid of Mr L.
He tries to flee with his rocket boosters, but Bowser saw it coming. He snatches Mr L right out of the air and holds him down.
Nastasia approaches and Mr L panics. He shouts, he cries out, and he calls for Mario specifically. Mario had said that even if he couldn’t be Luigi again, he’d still love him like his brother, right? Surely he’s not getting to just let her destroy him? Right?
Mario does one of the most difficult things he’s had to do this entire adventure.
He turns away.
In that momentary distraction, Nastasia hits Mr L with her abilities. Bowser lets go, and Mr L falls to his knees. He’s struggling against it at first, but then slumps over. The magic disperses, and he slowly opens his eyes.
They’re blue again, no longer Mr L’s unnatural white.
Mario rushes over, elated to see that little difference. He stops in his tracks when Luigi flinches back.
Luigi doesn’t remember a goddamn thing that happened while Mr L was active. Some leftover feelings still remain, though, and tensions were high in the moments before Luigi was returned.
Peach kneels down next to him, gently rubbing his back and assuring him that he doesn’t need to worry, he’s safe now. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Luigi mentions crashing Bowser and Peach’s forced wedding (which Bowser mutters something about). He admits that he remembers ending up in some weird monochrome castle, but he doesn’t remember what happened there or how he ended up here.
It’s then that he realizes just how he looks. Weird clothes, weird bandana, weird mask- wait, when was the last time he shaved!?
Mario laughs at Luigi’s bewilderment. Yup, classic Luigi. He goes over to help him up, and he he’s almost lightheaded with relief when Luigi doesn’t hesitate to accept his help. He’s also relieved that Luigi doesn’t mind him taking the mask off (Mr L would’ve slaughtered him for it).
“So… What just happened? Something obviously happened,” Luigi asked, and he notices Mario and Peach both freeze in place. Oh boy, it’s something serious then.
Luigi decides that now is not the time. “Actually, I changed my mind. I don’t want to deal with this right now. I’m going to shovel a huge bowl of pasta in my face and take a nap, then I’ll deal with it,” he decides.
Mario takes his hand and leads him to the tower’s elevator, a relieved smile on his face and tears welling up in his eyes. He tells Luigi about this place that makes incredible pasta, and an inn with beds so soft you’d think they were meant for royalty.
Luigi is fine, and everything goes back to normal. The world is saved, and all is well.
(They explain what happened to him after. Luigi doesn’t remember any of it, but it is a little scary to think about the fact that he did all that. Mario does his best to assure him that it wasn’t him doing that, it was Mr L. Luigi appreciates it, but he doesn’t mention the strange remnants. He doesn’t talk about knowing things he shouldn’t (the names of Count Bleck’s minions, their habits, their likes and dislikes), he doesn’t talk about the strange dreams he’s been having (of being trapped in a monochrome fortress, of being flooded with indescribable power, of Mario turning his back on him). Perhaps it’s best if everything Mr L was is simply… Buried.)
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vitaliskravtsov · 1 year
Note
For Spotify wrapped - #88 and nurseydex or patater! :)
okay ngl this is a bit of a toughie bc this one is instrumental but i did my best!!!!!!!
88) the thrombey estate - knives out soundtrack
patater!!
Alexei is kind of absolutely bone-tired from the drive and he’s even more tired from camp, and more than anything, he wants to just pass out on his sofa. 
Unfortunately, it’s like 3pm and any passing out will just mean that he’ll wake up at about 2am, starving and unable to go back to sleep, so he has to tough it out.
That’s what he uses to explain why he’s seeing another person in his house, his brand-new house (okay, it’s an apartment), and doesn’t question it. 
The realtor had told him the house had history in the community, whatever that meant, but the plumbing was good and there was no water damage, so he’d taken it without interrogating that statement too deeply.
Now, though, he’s staring down a five-foot-seven blonde kid who looks like he’s straight out of an eighties sports mag.
“Mmh,” he grunts, and throws his stuff at the floor. 
The boy stares at him.
“That’ll dent,” he says, vowels lilting just a little. Weird accent.
“Mmh,” Alexei says again.
“Eat,” the boy says, and then stalks off.
Eventually, Alexei does get up and get a protein shake going. He pours it over a bowl of pasta, immediately regrets the decision, and eats the whole thing anyway.
He’s not as concerned as he should be, but by the time he goes to bed, the boy is gone, so it’s probably fine.
Over the next couple of weeks, he keeps appearing in Alexei’s house, staring at Alexei’s Russian books or petting Alexei’s sticks or leaving little notes about the decor (or the dishes, or the cooking situation, which is maybe a little more abysmal than it should be after two and a half years on his own).
He’s pretty, in an ethereal, incomprehensible, untouchable way.
He’s kind of horribly, awfully, exactly, Alexei’s type.
As the season progresses, he starts leaving hockey-related notes, but also commentary on Alexei’s music selection and on Alexei’s nutrition -- notably different from the cooking-based notes in that these have to do with macronutrients and vitamins and some things Alexei’s not entirely sure how to pronounce, at least in English -- and Alexei discovers that the boy likes Ziggy Stardust and Metallica and Aretha Franklin and Queen, and he stars putting that on more when he knows they’re both around the house.
The hockey notes are good, too, if focused on kind of old-school stuff, but Alexei doesn’t mind; he’s always down to try new stuff in his play, and he does start producing more, so. It’s a win in his book.
He learns, eventually, that the boy is called Kent and that he’s from the hellhole of a city that Alexei cannot begin to imagine why anyone would choose to live in if they weren’t here for hockey.
He starts watching movies with Alexei, too, and in that, their tastes are more similar. Kent is kind of game for anything, including Disney movies, and Alexei’s desire for Russian subtitles or dubs at the end of a long day is very on board with that.
It’s -- it’s nice, to cohabitate with someone who never generates any dishes (or if he does, meticulously puts them away totally clean) and never makes a mess, and who seems to instinctively understand when Alexei needs to be alone.
It’s really fucking nice.
Alexei blames that on the wire-crossing that happens one night when he gets home from a game and sees Kent on the couch, sprawled out all warm and inviting, and his brain, the little part of his brain that still misses the piece of shit who dumped him when he realised Alexei would never be a millionaire, says kiss your boyfriend, and Alexei does, no hesitation.
Or, well, he tries to, because his lips go straight through Kent’s forehead and he lands face first in the arm of the couch, confused and hurt, lips and nose smarting.
When he lifts his head, Kent is gone.
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fandom-nursery · 20 days
Text
Asmo agere headcanons
Has an age range between 3-6 more of less but usually when little he feels less like a defined age and more just generally small 
Another pretty frequent regresser. Not as much as Levi or Mammon though 
Usually regresses voluntarily unless he is really upset by something 
Generally views his regression as a positive experience. He’s very good at projecting an image of the perfect aesthetic little and often uses this image to his advantage and to charm people. However he really struggles with the part of age regression that aren't cute and perfect and feels like those parts need to be hidden 
CEO of pretending something is too hard for him while small so that someone else will do it for him
Asmo is incredibly talkative while little and will chatter on enthusiastically about anything and everything to anyone who will listen 
Spoiled little princess. He wants everything just so and is very used to being able to bat his eyes or pout and have it happen for him. It’s honestly not that different from when when he’s big 
Asmo doesn’t nap. He’s an incredibly active little and his sleep schedule is very important to him. He doesn’t like to mess it up even when little which does sometimes lead to an overtired and fussy Asmo 
Loves to be carried and is constantly doing toddler grabby arms up at whoever is closest. He will complain if he’s forced to walk too much on his own 
Asmo loves a good bath both big and little and he has a ton of bath toys for himself. Sometimes taking a bath is how Asmo gets himself into his headspace to start with 
He loves to play pretend and dress up and dance and take pictures and watch cartoons. Really Asmo is up for almost anything and has a bad habit of starting about 100 different games/projects/activities and then leaving all the stuff he got out for them on the floor and moving on to the next thing without cleaning up 
Asmo loves fruit and cupcakes a lot. He is easily convinced to eat something if it is presented to him cutely. He loves pasta dishes where the noodles have been made into fun shapes 
Asmo has a huge collection of dolls and plushies as well as a lot of art supplies. He loves calico critters once you introduce him to them. He thinks they’re adorable 
He has different comfort clothing that he really likes to wear when small. Mostly soft pastel clothes that look adorable but are loose fitting and comfortable. 
Convinced he is the most adorable little in the entire devildom and you have to admit he might be right 
He does use a paci now and then although it is mostly for aesthetic reasons rather than it being an actual soothing item 
Asmo has a bunch of custom diapers and pull ups with pretty patterns and colors on them! He wears them mostly because he likes how they look and because they make him feel small 
A lot of people know about his regression. Asmo is fairly open about it with the people close to him and many of his fans have guessed since he occasionally posts pictures of himself in his regression outfits if he thinks he looks cute enough.
Asmo needs to be taken care of while little. He gets upset if he's on his own and no one is paying attention to him. Deep down Asmo wants someone who cares enough about him as a person to genuinely want to take care of him through all parts of his regression, not just the cute easy parts 
Happy to call you whatever you want while he’s little. Mama? Sure daddy? No problem! Just your name? Easy peasy, some other nickname? He thinks it sounds great! He’s very open in that regard 
Asmo loves nicknames so really any are received well as long as they aren’t insulting. However, Angel is a special nickname that he only lets you use when you are alone together. The fall was very hard on him and he misses being an angel in the celestial realm the most out of his brothers aside from maybe Lucifer. Being called angel is a big of a guilty pleasure for him that absolutely no one else can know about 
He started regressing about midway between the fall and your arrival in the devildom. It helps him feel adored in a nonsexual way which he does really want and need sometimes 
Asmo had a hard time admitting fault for anything and is sure to throw and fit if someone tries to put him in time out. He will usually stay in time out once he’s there but will often refuse to give an apology at the end and gets stuck there for longer because of it. 
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Note
For the 10 characters ask game:
Kanan Jarrus
Hera Syndulla
Ezra Bridger
Ahsoka Tano
Tommy from DSMP
Wilbur from DSMP
Ghostbur (does he count as separate from Wilbur? He seems to but I’m not sure; substitute character of your choice if he doesn’t)
And, since you’ve watched ATSV:
Miles Morales
Peter B. Parker
Miguel O’Hara
Oooh, thank you! This will be Fun lol
(And yes, Ghostbur is separate from Wilbur! The whole thing is kinda confusing but in short, when someone dies on the Dream SMP, a new being is sprung into creation; they look and sound like their alive counterpart, but they have a different personality, because really, they’re a Different Person. Like I said, it’s a bit confusing 😅)
1. Marry
Okay. Here me out.
Tommy.
BUT LISTEN!!! OKAY!!! IT WOULD BE PLATONIC!!! A WEIRD… PLATONIC… MARRIAGE… THING. ALRIGHT??? IT’S WHAT HAPPENED WITH RANBOO AND TUBBO SO IT WORKS (??!!)
This… arrangement would be so chaotic and so strange oh my gosh. But also… fun?? Maybe???
He could make pasta and I could bake cookies. Symbiotic relationship. We could run around the server and cause problems and pick dandelions. AND we could talk about Ghostbur together. It’s a win-win. We both love Ghostbur. Yes.
Tommy’s also an animal lover :) Truly, this is a symbiotic relationship.
2. Drink tea with
Ahsoka :) I feel like she’d be a fun person to chat with—especially over tea!
3. Party with
Okay I’m gonna be honest, when you sent this ask, I hadn’t actually seen Across The Spider-Verse, so I didn’t really know who Miguel was, so I saved him for last and just kinda gave him the option left over…
So I guess I’m partying with Miguel.
Y’know I don’t think either of us are gonna have much fun doing this lol
4. Kiss
Oh this was a weird one to answer-
Like Miguel, I saved this person for last because I didn’t really know what to do with her.
So. Hera. ???
I feel like I’ve failed a video game or something.
5. Go out on a date with
GHOSTBUR!!! But platonic :D
DUDE!!! THIS WOULD MAKE ME SO HAPPY!!! We could go see sheep or something!!! And take walks in nature!!! And find cool bugs to admire!!!
Oh my gosh I could take him to chick-fil-a and get him a peach milkshake. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.
I have been WANTING TO GIVE HIM A PEACH MILKSHAKE FOR MONTHSSSS HE NEEDS ONE!!! I CAME UP WITH AN ENTIRE MODERN AU JUST SO THAT HE COULD GET A PEACH MILKSHAKE!!! YES!!!
6. Push down the stairs
Miles :)
Not out of anger or anything. Just an aggressively affectionate shove.
Besides, he’s spider-man! He can catch himself just fine!! >:)
7. Slap
Kan…an?? I guess?
It’d be affectionate but also annoyed because he can be a bit… much. At times. I’m just saying, I think Hera should get to slap him at least once. That’s all I’m saying!
8. Invade the dreams of
PETER B!!! OH THIS WOULD BE HILARIOUS!!!
I feel like all of his dreams would be completely funny and nonsensical, so if I ended up in there things would get Worse.
I also feel like he’s that brand of pathetic (affectionate) that’ll get very scared over things that aren’t very scary. Like me.
He would wake up in a cold sweat and live in fear.
9. Take a nap with
Oh gosh, umm…
Let’s do Wilbur. Heaven knows that man needs a nap :(
Thing is, I can never take naps—I take like one a year if that—so I’d sit on the couch and be quiet and Wilbur would sleep… somewhere.
Oh I feel like he’s the type of guy to fall asleep in super uncomfortable positions, so he’d likely be curled up at the other end of the couch with his glasses still on and his coat still on and probably food on his hands. I could try and give him a pillow/blanket but I think he’d still wake up feeling sore lol
BUT AT LEAST HE’D FALL ASLEEP!!! HE HEKKIN NEEDS IT!!!
10. Rob
Ezra, but make it playful :) No malice behind it or anything.
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russellpipkin · 2 years
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Italian Restaurants Include These Top 5 Famous Italian Foods In Their Menu
Food Italy is Most Famous For
Italy is famous for their food all over the world and no matter what country you’re in you can almost definitely find an Italian Restaurant in every urban area across the globe. Italy’s food was created from simple ingredients and spices and blended together to create dishes that are known everywhere, such as spaghetti, lasagna, pizza, fettucini, and many more dishes everyone knows and loves and especially enjoys here in Manhattan. Hell’s Kitchen has some of the best Italian restaurants in the U.S. and possibly the entire planet.
The staples of Italy can be broken down and categorized into a few main categories and we’re going to cover 5 in this article.
 Pasta
There are so many incredible meals to choose from in Italy that labeling these tasty Italian dishes as just “pasta” hardly does them justice, plus there is a wide range of pasta dishes and all are prepared with their own unique recipes. Wherever you go, try to enjoy the local classics; there’s a reason they’re well-liked. These dishes range from straight forward spaghetti carbonara in Rome to delicious seafood pasta in Sicily. The traditional Italian dishes can differ depending on what region of Italy you have a taste for, usually separated by southern and northern flavors.
Su Filindeu, which translates to “threads of the gods” is probably the rarest type of pasta there is and can only be found off the coast of Italy to the west on an island called Sardinia. The pasta is rare due to the way it is made and it’s assumed that there are only 10 people alive that actually know how to make it! It’s a fairly simple dish in terms of ingredients (water, semolina wheat and salt), but the process is a very specific technique and can only be done over time and by hand. If you’re ever in Sardinia make sure you find a restauran that is service Su Filindeu, it’s totally worth it!
 Pizza
The most famous staple in Italy is probably the Pizza and it’s been a major part of their culture for centuries. Italian Pizza is much different than the pizza served at most places in America. Get rid of the thick doughy crust you’re used to because true pizza from Italy usually bakes their dough to be thin, soft, and fluffy and any real pizza chef knows it’s a type “00” flour used to make the dough.
Usually the pizza is stone baked or cooked in a wood-fire oven and only the freshest ingredients are used such as fresh vine grown tomatoes being used for the sauce and possible tomato toppings. After the tomatoes it’s typically fresh basil and mozzarella for a perfect Italian style pizza.
What’s also different about traditional Italian Pizza is the way it’s enjoyed when it’s served as a meal. Typically you might order a pizza pie or 2…..or more, and everyone kinda shares the same pizza. In Italy, you’ll find it common for everyone at the table to have their own pizza pie and everyone will share with everyone. Almost the same concept as the way it’s shared here in America and New York City, but with a lot more pizza and many more options to choose from.
 Prosciutto, Polenta and Cured Meats
There are many cured meats that are a huge addition of protein into the Italian diet. Meats such as prosciutto, pancetta, lardo, and speck are all meats that are cured and eaten regularly and have been a part of Italian tradition for decades. One thing all of the smoked meats have in common is that it all comes from some part of the pig, so if you’re not a fan of pork then you might want to avoid indulging in traditional Italian smoked meats. Prosciutto and speck both come from the hind leg and are both delicious and tender. It’s prosciutto with a smoky flavor basically. It’s the same meat just prepared a little differently. Prosciutto is probably the most popular Italian cured meat in the world and definitely here in New York City.
The chef’s at SESAMO are really particular when it comes to smoked or cured pork, so they only used the highest quality meats available in Hell’s Kitchen, NYC. If you haven’t had and chance to try pancetta yet, it should be on your things-to-eat list! The best way to describe this delicious cured meat is, it’s basically thin sliced bacon served raw. Usually pancetta is eaten like prosciutto, either wrapped around a vegetable or cheese.
 Seafood
Italy is approximately 400 miles across, traveling from coast to coast, so no matter where you are you can guarantee you’re getting some of the freshest seafood you’ve ever had in your life. Being that no matter where you are in Italy you’re less than 3 hours from the coast so there’s no guess as to why seafood and Italy are nearly synonymous.
Famous traditional Italian seafood dishes might include some of the delicious dishes listed below:
Gamberi alla Busara
Baccalà mantecato
Cacciucco
Spaghetti al Nero di Seppia
Lemon and Shrimp Risotto
Involtini di pesce spada
Sicilian Stuffed Sardines
Zuppa di Pesce
Linguine all’astice
Linguine alle Vongole
Italian Seafood Salad
Baccalà alla Livornese
Seafood Fra Diavolo with Linguine
Acqua pazza
 Risotto
There are probably 100 different ways to prepare and eat risotto, so lets just dive into a few of the basics. Risotto is very similar to rice and is basically a creamy rice dish with cheese to sum it up. Much of the sauce is created by cooking the rice different from how you’d prepare rice traditionally. You cook over a longer period of time and slowly add water so that the starches release and create a creamy sauce. Adding warm broth and cheese to your risotto, along with some aromatic herbs such as garlic can really provide you with a dish the entire family can enjoy.
If you plan on making risotto there you should try a few different types of rice before you become set on one style. Different types of rice present different results. Longer grain rice such as basmati tend to create a more fluffier rice that doesn’t stick together. Starchier rices tend to produce a much creamier sauce than rices like basmati. Most fine dining restaurant use carnaroli rice due to it being the starchiest rice of all and creating a really creamy sauce in the cooking process, so consider this when deciding which rice to choose.
 Italian Food in Restaurants
Italian restaurants in New York usually include most of the above dishes on their menu or create delectable dishes from some of the food items listed above. If you’ve ever been to an Italian restaurant and there wasn’t a dish where pasta was an ingredient, you can blindly say that it wasn’t an Italian dining establishment.
In New York City there was a massive immigration influx in the 19th and 20th centuries and sometime during the early 1800s Italians began heading for New York. It’s estimated that from about 1820 to 1980 over 5 million Italian immigrants moved to New York, which is why Italian restaurants are a dime a dozen in New York city and it offers some of the best authentic Italian dishes in the world. When immigrants came they brought their delicious Italian recipes New Yorkers have grown to love, so next time you’re around some of your italian friends make sure you thank them and their relatives for their contribution!
  source https://sesamorestaurant.com/news/italian-restaurants-include-these-top-5-famous-italian-foods-in-their-menu/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=italian-restaurants-include-these-top-5-famous-italian-foods-in-their-menu from Sesamo https://sesamorestaurant.blogspot.com/2022/08/italian-restaurants-include-these-top-5.html
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bushend21 · 2 years
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Three Ideas For A Tasty Summer Season Work Occasion
For events with many food trucks, they are often both stationed across the perimeter of the event or clustered in an area that makes it straightforward for attendees to see their decisions. Municipal rules may place constraints on meals vehicles on your event. For instance, in some areas, meals vehicles can’t operate within a sure distance of a brick-and-mortar restaurant. Cotton Culinary has the experience and network to help you throw an unforgettable celebration at residence or in a venue. Especially in relationships the place the dad and mom stay distant, an official meet-the-parents dinner that’s catered to perfection might help make a fantastic impression. That first time where everyone meets is necessary, since first impressions may help or harm the couple’s relationship. There continues to be loads of sunshine and several other lengthy evenings forward. That is reason sufficient to deliver the entire household collectively for some outdoor summer time enjoyable. Whether it is a massive reunion or a small gathering, benefiting from summer time means getting outside and discovering great ways to spend time with the individuals you care about most. Our food is locally sourced and menu makes use of sustainable components. If you want to add seafood to your menu, we now have simply what you want. Streamers, balloons, confetti, and different regular get together decorations are wasteful as a result of the fact that they're used once and then thrown away. To adorn the venue in essentially the most eco-friendly means attainable, be positive to discover or create decorations that may be reused. Depending in your get together theme you possibly can easy discover decorations that you have to use and reuse. Just like your wedding ceremony gown, shade scheme, catering, and decorations, your venue can characterize you and your quickly to be spouse. 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To assist you to out, we now have provided the next synopsis that addresses a quantity of of the defining options of a plated dinner reception. How many trucks do you have to serve your visitors in a well timed manner? With meals vans, the meals is made once the friends place the order . We advocate to be finished with dinner in an hour, with 200 guests, to have no much less than four trucks. Always provide a extra typical various such as grilled rooster, broiled fish or pasta with marinara sauce. You can even negotiate an all-inclusive price for each visitor of ingesting age that includes their meal and all drinks. If you select to convey your own wine and champagne, you'll need to pay the venue a corking fee. There is kind of a bit less to fret about in phrases of decide eaters, meals restrictions, or dietary needs with a buffet. Offering a number of options means your friends will find one thing they'll enjoy. 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With 外燴 that go into your special day, it’s necessary to hire the best people who will take care of every part expertly. When it comes to meals, you actually don’t need to do it yourself. Set up a waffle bar at your event and let guests pick their own toppings like whipped cream, ice cream, syrup, fruit or yogurt. For added customization, provide totally different batters as properly, like chocolate, banana, blueberry, and so forth. Slices of contemporary salmon fillet are placed on high of one another with varying coloured bell pepper, recent lemon squeeze, and purple onions. You can serve these coloured skewers on an everyday vegetable salad when you're going for a light-weight meal or on a plate of couscous should you're aiming for one thing more substantial. Just have a few flavors of espresso and add-ins like completely different flavored sugars, creams, whipped topics, perhaps even some adult beverages. Concessions By Ovations Guests can simply choose occasions, view all menu choices, enter quantities and take a glance at all by themselves. To learn more about our premium suite ordering resolution, you can visit the web page right here. You can either order bulk packaged popcorn, or pop them forward of time, and split them into smaller bags prematurely. We’ve seen candy sales at drive-in theaters practically double in 2020, particularly among popular brands like M&M’s, Skittles and Milky Way. With a longer shelf life than different baked items, fudge makes for nice concession dessert items if you prepare a batch ahead of time, and bundle it in plastic containers. What are so many popular crowd pleasers that happen to be pre-packaged snacks. Fill sweet crepes with chocolate, caramel, marshmallow and fruit jams. Serve drinks corresponding to tea, lemonade and fruit juices. Restricted concessions might embody foods listed inSection 4 of the Kentucky Food Code. Potentially hazardous meals will not be supplied by a restricted meals concession. These concessions may operate with restricted fixture necessities as outlined within the Kentucky Food Establishment Act and State Retail Food Code. Pre-packaged snacks are a staple of both adventurous out of doors excursions and monotonous late-night cravings⁠—and almost all of us have a fondness for them. And sauces don’t simply need to be a characteristic of dinnertime. Dessert sauces like custard, butterscotch, sizzling fudge, and fruit-flavored sauces are equally in style. On prime of this, sauces tend to develop cult followings⁠—think of the recognition of sriracha sauce or the communities built around extremely sizzling scorching sauces. If not, do some research into your target audience and what they may like to seek out at your food truck. Sweet, salty and every thing in between, Mojo presents all kinds of flavors that assures there’ll be one thing for everyone! Sazerac - Bulleit Rye, Peychaud’s Bitters, citrus oils and Herbsaint to steadiness. Some claim the Sazerac is the oldest known American cocktail with origins in pre–Civil War New Orleans. We add just a sprint of Herbsaint anise liquor for a touch of sweetness. Bulleit Bourbon Lemonade Bulleit Bourbon has a bold, spicy character with a distinctively smooth, clean finish. The Stables Catering Co We can craft a collection of unique menus that complement one another, with the seamless convenience of working with a single vendor all through the process. The Pavilion on Crystal Lake presents a country marriage ceremony really feel in a completed waterfront area. Your guests will savor our farm to desk cooking while having fun with the superb views. Cannot thank you sufficient for making our event look so lovely and out of this world. The meals was absolutely incredible, and everyone’s been asking about your services! The entire occasion was excellent, and your consideration to detail was above and beyond what we expected. We thanks for all of your hard work, and please thank your group for such fantastic food and service. The disadvantages of food vans embody their sophisticated logistics and rules, longer wait instances, weather dependency, and restricted ability to accommodate dietary adjustments. This article is spot on, nevertheless most of the comments appear to miss the point. The writer isn’t saying to half ass something or skimp on an item that's essential to you, just to not stress over trivialities. I hung out designing our invites, but the art work was made to swimsuit us. I am positively within the “people have missed the purpose camp”. I attended 5 weddings in the past yr alone and am planning my own, which implies I’m drowning in marriage ceremony web sites and Pinterest. These record reads strictly as “if you're on the lookout for a place to spend money, you might wish to concentrate on these things”. As many others pointed out, it’s extra the feel of it that almost all recall, not specifically which designer made her dress or whether she ought to have spent cash on roses vs. hydrangea. This list helped remind me the place I ought to focus my money and what's most LIKELY to create a wonderful and memorable occasion. Catering And Event Design In Ct, Ny, Ma You’ll additionally find an assortment of pastas and vegetarians options to choose from! Speak with an Event Coordinator about what you had in thoughts. This uniquely delicious collision of flavors might just be essentially the most thrilling culinary crossover of the trendy age. Korean tacos began out as a novelty choice within the L.A. Food truck scene again in 2009, but right now they’re everywhere. Shrimp cocktail is a traditional favorite for starters but don’t limit it just because you’re having a buffet as a substitute. Rather than pre-making 1980’s prawn cocktails, go extravagant and futuristic with this chilled shrimp tower. Attendees will think it’s fun to observe those little guys careen down the ice slalom. Set up a waffle bar at your occasion and let visitors choose their very own toppings like whipped cream, ice cream, syrup, fruit or yogurt. Go beneath the sea with a spread of eye-popping seafood trays featuring shrimp, sushi, crab, salmon, and extra. If you are keeping your event informal, this build-your-own-sandwich option is best for you. Thank you for entrusting us along with your particular event. Make your event additional special with the flavors and hospitality of Germany. What Does A Caterer Do Top 5 occasion coordinator interview questions with detailed ideas for each hiring managers and candidates. Inspecting and aiding with event planning and set up, in addition to assisting with any issues that arise through the occasion and helping with clean up. Meeting with clients to discuss specifications and visitor dietary necessities and plan occasion menus. One of probably the most impressive issues about the common kitchen of your local restaurant is how many meals they will cook in a night. If they make a mistake, maybe they don’t watch the stove or the oven rigorously, they may ruin one meal, but that’s a reasonably minor factor. However, the principle meal at a reception or event is not all that a caterer will put together. If you wish to venture into this line of labor, here are some of the duties you'll find a way to count on to tackle. The caterer job description, no matter who they work for, consists of accountability for food preparation, in accordance with Career Explorer. This can embody preparing elements for recipes, cooking on-site at an occasion and serving meals to visitors at tableside or through a buffet system. Caterers should ensure food is prepared in accordance with the state well being division's meals security and sanitation rules as well. A caterer is answerable for monitoring meals preparation and presentation, guaranteeing the adequacy and accuracy of meals stock primarily based on the shoppers' specifications and visitor count. Caterers often work with shoppers for particular occasions and events, determine their wants, together with the menu and dietary necessities. The idea is to communicate what your business brings to the desk and the opportunities you probably can present new employees. Practiced glorious customer service and created an surroundings that keeps our friends happy and returning for future enterprise. Maintain hygiene in food preparation areas, prepare food, and set up eating space. Prepared and adorned rooms for particular banquets and assisted in meals preparation and serving. When you are ready to become a Caterer, you may surprise which companies hire Caterers. According to our analysis by way of Caterer resumes, Caterers are principally hired by Compass Group Usa, Giant Eagle, and Taste Unlimited. Now is an effective time to use as Compass Group Usa has 14 Caterers job openings, and there are 6 at Giant Eagle and 4 at Taste Unlimited.
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tenshindon · 3 years
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ok this is literally the smallest of gripes but it always bothers me how they refer to the fighting style in db as karate instead of kung fu
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wazzupmrstark · 3 years
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instead of you [part fourteen]
pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.
warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption
word count: 2.6k
series masterlist
“Just that you’re not technically a chef yet,” Tom explained defensively. “You’re not certified.”
“A chef doesn’t need a piece of paper to call themselves a chef,” Leo countered. “Anyone can be a chef. But don’t tell the WAC I said that.”
“Yeah, Tom haven’t you ever seen Ratatouille?” you teased.
“Great movie,” Leo added. “Sam, great job on your dough,” he reiterated.
Sam stuck his tongue out at his brother across the table who rolled his eyes in response as Leo picked up his ball of dough and rolled it in his hands.
“Tom, yours is still a little tough. Keep working on it.”
He nodded and took his dough back to continue kneading it. You noticed his jaw clenched subtly in frustration, but he didn’t say anything else. You watched as he rolled the pasta dough with a little more force, maybe a little too much.
Leo checked yours next and gave you similar feedback to Tom’s, even though Sam had helped you with yours. You didn’t want to think about what kind of feedback you would have gotten on your own.
Your dough was still flaking apart when you went back to working on it, and you tried desperately to hold it together with little success. Sam had left your side to help his mom so you were on your own.
At least Tom was also struggling. You felt a little better knowing he was miserable too.
You were starting to sweat with effort, you were so out of shape that even cooking had you catching your breath. You had thought this was going to be fun, but instead you were having flashbacks to high school P.E. class.
Leo made his way down the rest of the table and checked everyone else’s dough before circling back to you and Tom. He took over for Tom and instructed Sam to finish kneading yours so that he could move on with the lesson. It was embarrassing to be singled out, but Sam assured you it wasn’t your fault. He wasn’t making much progress with yours either.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with yours,” Sam whispered to you.
“I probably did it wrong,” you hissed back.
“I watched you do it, you did it the same way as everyone else.”
“Then why is it being like this?”
“Sometimes food has a mind of its own,” Leo interjected, making you realize the entire class had been listening to you and Sam’s back and forth. “This is good enough, though. We can set it aside with the other balls of dough to let them rest while we make the fillings.”
You and Tom set your sad pasta balls on the counter with the others before moving to the sink to rinse your hands.
“I think they’ll still taste good,” Tom said thoughtfully as he offered the bottle of soap to you and pumped some into your hands.
“I hope so.”
“It’s pasta, it’s almost impossible to fuck it up.”
“Yet somehow we still managed to.”
“Some would say it’s talent,” he said and shrugged.
You bumped his shoulder with your own as you fought over the water stream. You managed to stick your hands in first and Tom put his above yours only for you to shove them away.
“Hey!”
“You’re completely ruining the purpose of washing my hands!”
“I have soap on my hands, you have soap on your hands, what's the issue?”
“And you’re washing off your germs and they’re going on my hands now!”
“Fine, fine, I’ll wait my turn,” he seceded and let you finish washing your hands before he rinsed off his own.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Making the fillings for the pasta was a much simpler process than making the dough. All you had to do was mix certain ingredients together. It didn’t matter what order you added them, if you whisked fast or slow, the only important thing was that everything made it into the bowl one way or another.
You worked in pairs for this step. Sam mixed together the pesto filling while you did the parmesan-truffle one.
“This is different than the pesto I make,” he said, looking at the mixture in his bowl.
You frowned. “But I like your pesto.”
“It’ll still be good, baby,” he assured you with a kiss to the forehead. “Don’t worry.”
When the fillings were done it was time to revisit the balls of dough and roll them into pasta. Sam explained it to you like rolling Play-Doh, but it was far more difficult in your opinion. Play-Doh was nowhere near as stubborn as this. The pasta dough somehow retained tension, and would bounce back every time you tried to stretch it.
Sam ended up having to help you and Tom because both of you were starting at a disadvantage with your fucked up dough.
“I never want to hear you say I have it easier than you ever again,” Sam warned as he folded your strands of dough into raviolis.
The class had moved on to the final step, shaping and filling the noodles, but you had already tapped out. Sam was done with his portion before you had even finished one so he had taken over for you.
“I’m sorry for saying that,” you said, remembering all the times you had teased him for stressing out over his ‘soufflé final’ or ‘crepe labs’. “I would much rather be writing a paper right now.”
He shrugged. “Everyone has their strengths.”
“I’m starting to think that Ratatouille movie was bullshit,” you groaned.
“How ironic,” Tom snorted across from you.
He was really starting to get on your nerves. But you let his comment go, not allowing your temper to get the better of you. He was still Sam’s family, even if they had a... complicated relationship.
When the class finally settled in the dining room of the restaurant to eat you were sweaty, sore, and exhausted. You could feel your skin sticking to the leather seat, and you felt severely underdressed. Back in the kitchen you hadn’t been so self-conscious. But now you couldn’t stop thinking about your appearance.
The atmosphere was much more sophisticated. The lights were dim, and soft music played in the background. All of the other guests were following an unspoken black-tie dress code while the fifteen of you were still wearing your disposable aprons, only now they were covered in flour and egg yolk.
And to make it worse-
“Smile!”
Nikki held up her phone and motioned for you and Sam to scoot your chairs closer together. You took a deep breath and complied, leaning your head against your fake boyfriend’s and managing a grin. You really didn’t want this moment to be immortalized, but you didn’t want to be difficult either.
The camera flashed once, then again. Sam wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled your body against his, pressing a kiss to your cheek for another picture. You scrunched up your face as the flash went off, the tickle of his breath against your skin and the feather-light touch of his lips making you squeeze your eyes shut.
“That’s a good one!” Nikki complimented, even though you were sure it wasn’t as flattering as she was making it out to be.
The pasta was served with a glass of red wine for everyone. Sam was right, the pesto was different from his, but it was still good. It was no match for his recipe, but the handmade pasta did give it a few bonus points. You were sure you hadn’t gotten any of the noodles you made because all of the ones on your plate were perfect. It didn’t feel fair that you got to enjoy somebody else’s hard work while they got your shitty excuse of a ravioli.
But as the wine dwindled from your glass the negative thoughts began to ebb away too. Your muscles, though still sore, relaxed slightly and you rested your head on Sam’s shoulder as everyone else finished their meals around you. The conversation carried on without your contribution. Your social battery had died hours ago, but you were content to listen to the Hollands chat with other students at the table.
You weren’t a huge fan of wine, but the one served with dinner was palatable, and to be honest you weren’t one to turn down complimentary alcohol anyway. It tasted more expensive than anything you had ever drank, like the equivalent of velvet on your tongue. You finished your glass and the rest of Harry’s.
-
The next few days in Florence passed in a similar fashion. You ate a lot of carbs, drank a lot of alcohol and let the business of the itinerary overwhelm you. It was getting tiring, living in an act. Trailing along behind the Hollands like a dog, worn on Sam’s arm like an accessory.
You had known what you were getting into, and you were trying your best to enjoy the experiences- because who the fuck knows when you’ll ever get to go on such a nice vacation again, but pretending to be in love with your best friend was a harder feat than you had thought.
It felt like being in a school play. Every move and phrase had to be intentional. You tread the lines of your relationship with rehearsed expertise. And you had to watch what you said, because everyone’s eyes were on you. At least that’s what it felt like.
Sam’s parents were easy. They fully bought into your lie, seeing what they wanted to. They usually left you to your own devices, too. His brothers were the ones who needed convincing. Not even Harry, though. Tom was the problem. Tom was always the problem.
You were in Rome now, walking back to the hotel from the Colosseum. Sam had his arm slung around your shoulders and was talking his twin brother’s ear off about the Gladiators and inaccuracies in films about Ancient Rome.
You didn’t think you’d seen him this excited the entire trip. It was cute, the way he talked with his hands and looked off into the distance whenever he was really engaged in something. Harry was also cute. He was trying his best to keep up with Sam, nodding his head at all the right points, asking questions when there was a pause in conversation.
“Yeah, gladiators fucking unionized,” Sam explained. “They put their lives on the line all the time, ya know? Might as well get benefits.”
“If I was a gladiator I’d join their union,” you said, adding to the conversation for the first time in a while.
“There were women gladiators too, babe! You totally could’ve been one.”
You laughed. “You remember my season on the intramural dodgeball team? I wouldn’t last a day. But I appreciate the thought, Sammy.”
You had dinner in the restaurant attached to the hotel lobby. Nikki passed around her Canon for everyone to look through the pictures from the day while a bottle of limoncello was passed around the table.
You’d scarfed down your pasta and passed on dessert in favor of another shot of limoncello. Rookie mistake.
In the past the sugary drink had always tasted like cough syrup to you, but this batch tasted like straight-up lemonade. You were tipsy, bordering on drunk, but nowhere near blacked. Nikki and Dom turned in around shot three, leaving the tab open for the four of you. Sam went upstairs next, having gone too hard too fast on the limoncello (he was on shot five when his parents went back to their room).
Then it was just You, Harry, and Tom. You told Sam you’d join him in a bit after the pianist played a couple more songs. In all honesty, the music reminded you of Sam. Back at school you could always find Sam in the music hall if he wasn’t in the culinary building. You’d always hear him playing as soon as you walked through the double doors. You could always tell it was him at the keys by the way the playing sounded. He was self-taught, but still a genius in your mind. He didn’t need any formal training to make beautiful music, and that’s what you loved about it.
When he moved out of the dorms and into an apartment he bought a keyboard, and you’d spend nights together in his room illegally pirating sheet music for him to learn new songs. He’d play whatever you requested, and if he didn’t know how to play it he’d teach himself.
The pianist in the restaurant played with a little more expertise. The notes sounded refined, perfected. Sam always told you that perfect music was restrained music, that real music had flaws, that a song should sound a little different every time it was played.
After an encore of Beethoven the man at the piano stood from his bench and took a bow, passing his hat around the room to collect tips. Tom dropped a bill into the hat and you did as well, handing it back to the man afterwards. He dumped the contents of the hat into a briefcase and closed the lid of the piano, thanking everyone in the audience for their donations.
“Well, I think I’m going to head up now,” Harry said, yawning for emphasis. “We still have to get up at the ass crack of dawn even though we’ll all probably be hungover.”
“Speak for yourself,” Tom said cockily, then turned to you. “One more shot?”
The bottle of limoncello was almost empty anyway. Might as well finish it off, it’d be a shame to let it go to waste, right?
“Hit me.”
“God, you’re both going to be so fucked tomorrow,” Harry groaned.
“We’ll be fine,” Tom insisted, rolling his eyes at his younger brother.
“Good night, Harry,” you sang, waving at him as he walked off.
“Yeah whatever.”
Tom wasted no time pouring you both a shot of what was left of the limoncello. The restaurant was beginning to clear out so he worked fast, filling the glasses up to the marked line. You both took one and clinked them together before throwing them back.
You winced at the burning sensation in the back of your throat and put the glass back on the table, searching for something to chase the shot with. Your eyes fell to Tom, lingering on his cheeks, his lips, both pink from the alcohol or something else. You flicked your gaze down to his neck, his collarbone that was peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. You thought about how it would feel to kiss him there, to run your tongue over a love bite you’d given him.
You forced your gaze back to his eyes, hoping he hadn’t caught you staring. You had to act uninterested, you couldn’t let on to- but he was staring back. His eyes were intense, and almost impossible to read in the darkness of the room. You knew you should look away, knew you had to keep up appearances, but you couldn’t.
Later you’d blame it on the alcohol, but in that moment you knew the limoncello wasn’t what was making your head spin, or your what was making your vision cloudy.
You were about to leave the table, about to rush to the elevator and back to Sam but then suddenly Tom was kissing you. He cradled your head in his hand and tilted your chin up to meet his lips. It wasn’t desperate or messy like most drunk kisses were. Instead, it was delicate. You swore you could feel every line of his lips against yours, feel his heartbeat through his hands on your cheek.
It was only for a second, not enough time for you to react or reciprocate and then he was pulling away, eyes wide with panic.
“Please don’t tell Sam.”
logging off before i get yelled at but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
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Text
Golden
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: The Reader and Bucky go through different stages of the Reader’s pregnancy.
Rating: T
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, giving birth
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Two Months
Y/N had been mulling over how she was going to tell him since she found out a week ago. She had thought her anxiousness and worries would have faded away after she saw those two little lines on the test. No, they had only increased ten-fold, only worsening when she went to her doctor and got an official test. Her stomach tossing and turning when the doctor told her that she's been pregnant for eight weeks. Y/N was now stuck with the most important and difficult part of this whole thing-telling Bucky Barnes that she was pregnant with his baby.
How does one tell an over one hundred year old super soldier that they're going to be a father?  Getting a tiny Brooklyn Dodgers onesie made? Too cliché. Make some awful pun themed dinner that might include "buns in the oven"? Might go over his head. Hand him the sonogram that she had gotten after the pregnancy test just to be sure? He's from the forties, what the fuck is he going to know about a sonogram?
Y/N was terrified over he was going to react. Bucky was barely getting used to the world, barely getting used to having control of his own mind. And while he had been doing a lot better and he makes sure to take care of himself, Y/N didn't know how he would handle the stress of a baby. Did he even want to be a dad? Y/N didn't even know if she wanted to be a mom, but she know that somehow it felt right. They've never even talked about having children and now-well they were sort of past the point of thinking about having kids.
The whole situation made her want to vomit, and she was pretty sure it wasn't just from the morning sickness.
Y/N eventually landed on telling him over dinner. Nothing too fancy, just the usual place they always go to so that Bucky wouldn't think anything was up. All day long as she sat through meeting after meeting, her date got closer and closer, and that dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach grew with every second. Y/N felt like she was going to vomit by the time she met up with her boyfriend back at their apartment. Luckily, Bucky talks the entire car ride to the restaurant, complaining about something Sam did that day. She uses her training for good, covering up her nervousness with a neutral face.
They made their regular small talk as they sit in the back of the restaurant at their usual table. Y/N orders her usual lemonade while Bucky orders a Coke. They share a basket of bread and Y/N hopes that the carbs soak up the acid that keeps threatening to rise up her throat. Each time she wants to bring up her news, their waitress would come up with refills, an E.T.A on their food, or just to ask how they were doing. And each time, Y/N would glare daggers at her back once she was turned around to walk away.
Then their respective plates of pasta were placed in front of them. Bolognese for Bucky, arrabbiata for Y/N. While usually she immediately dives into her plate, the way her stomach is twisting and turning, she's unable to eat. Y/N pushes her pasta around with her fork as she works up the courage to talk to him. She just didn't know how to say it. All she knew is that she had to say it. Y/N puts down her fork, moving to wipe her now sweaty hands on the cloth napkin on her lap as she looks up at him. Bucky was raising a pasta laden fork up to his mouth as she opened hers.
"I'm pregnant." She finally blurts out. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, barely audible over the noise of the other guests at the restaurant. She was afraid that he couldn't hear her, afraid that she was going to have to say it again. But by the way Bucky's eyes widen, she knew that he had heard her loud and clear. He lowers his fork, mouth opening and shutting.
"I-What? You're-What?" The super soldier asks, looking from her face to her stomach and back to her face. Y/N felt like she was going to be sick to her stomach, the blood draining from her face.
"I-I'm pregnant. I found out last week." Y/N manages to get out, still looking down at her plate. Her eyes started to sting and she tried to blink her eyes rapidly in order to keep her tears at bay. Bucky's silence is deafening and Y/N wishes she could run out of the restaurant, but it's like she's glued to the chair. She wants him to say something-anything, but he is silent. Y/N is about to say something when he holds his hands up, almost in defense.
"Wait. I-I don't want you to be upset. I'm not mad-I just don't know how to put my feelings into words. I'm happy. I'm really happy. I just-You know I'm not good with words." Bucky finally speaks, stumbling over his words. Her eyes widen and she quickly looks up at him.
"I-Really?" Y/N asks, the knot her stomach slowly unraveling. Bucky nods, a small smile appearing on his face. This time the tears that are filling her eyes from happiness.
"I'm not going to pretend that I know anything about babies or raising a child, but I'm sure I can figure it out." Bucky jokes, his metal hand fiddling with his utensils on the table. Y/N feels a million times better, a huge weight being lifted off of her shoulders. He looks up at her again, "I'm happy, Y/N. I am."
"Me too. Me too."
-
Four Months
As Y/N walked into her apartment, the only thing on her mind was kicking her shoes off, taking off her bra that was digging into her sides, and taking a much deserved nap. Her meeting had ended early and with Rhodey not needing help with anything, she had decided to return to her apartment. Yet, with not even a foot inside of the apartment, she was immediately greeted with an argument.
"No, what I am saying is you're painting wrong." Bucky snaps, which makes Y/N's eyebrow raise. Her boyfriend wasn't in sight, but he certainly was in the apartment somewhere. She sets her things down, walking over to where the arguing is coming from.
"How the hell can I be painting wrong? I'm putting paint on the wall. The wall is getting painted." Sam fires back and Y/N has to force herself to not laugh, covering her mouth. She stands in the doorway of the guest room, taking in the sight in front of her. The floor and furniture was covered in plastic tarp, blue painting tape lining the white molding and outlets. Painting supplies littered the room and standing in the middle of all of it were two idiots, both of them holding paint rollers covered in a light sage green paint.
"I'm sorry-what's going on here?" Y/N questions, motioning to the two of them and the mess in the room. Their heads snapped towards her, nervous smiles spreading across their faces. They looked like two kids that have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
"Hey doll-uh fuck-surprise." Bucky announces a little defeatedly while Sam gives a one handed jazz hand. Y/N laughs, carefully stepping into the room as the 106 year old man tries to explain, "I-We were going to surprise you by painting the room. Why are you home so early?"
"My meetings ended early and I am extremely surprised. Thank you and thank you too, Sammy." Y/N says sweetly, smiling at the two of them. Bucky lets out a sigh of relief and Sam chuckles. While the men may not see eye to eye all of the time, Sam has been a great help to both of them. The man had some knowledge about babies and children, being the proud uncle to two little boys, and he had been trying his best to put some of Bucky's worries at ease.
"I'm just trying to be a really great uncle." Sam teases, which makes the super soldier roll his eyes.  Bucky didn't have any living siblings and Y/N's teammates were the closest thing she had to family so it was going to be Uncle Sam, Uncle Rhodey, Auntie Pepper, Auntie Wanda, and so on and so forth. Their little patchwork support system that they were incredibly grateful for.
"Do you two need any help? I can't because I am pretty sure I'm not supposed to be inhaling paint fumes. But I can give Peter a call, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Y/N offers, grinning from ear to ear. She knows that both men weren't exactly best friends with Peter Parker, both of them having gotten their asses handed to them by a teenager. Y/N didn't have any issues with the kid, hell she talked to him on a weekly basis. He reported to her every Friday, filling Y/N on his week. While it had first started as him telling her what Spider-Man did, it soon turned into a three hour long meeting that included take out while he filled her in the weekly drama and tales of him and his two friends. And every Friday when she would return to the apartment, Sam and Bucky would greet her by calling her traitor.
"Jesus-No, we are okay doll. I think we can manage, right Sam?" Bucky asks, looking at the other man. Sam just nods, holding his paint covered roller a little higher.
"Yeah yeah I think we will be okay. This room will be done in no time."
-
Seven Months
Y/N watched from her seat at the kitchen island as Bucky moved around the kitchen, attempting to make dinner.
Y/N had been put on bed rest due to the fact that the Super Serum that had affected Bucky's DNA was causing the baby to grow at an accelerated rate. Seeing that this is going to be the first baby born with the serum (that they know of), the doctor wanted Y/N to be cautious.
Bucky, had taken the doctor's words incredibly seriously, going so far as to not even let make any food, like he is doing now.
"Bucky, baby, I can help you, y'know." Y/N tells him as Bucky attempted to follow a fairly simple recipe for marinara sauce. It was already going south pretty fast. He hadn't bought the right type of tomatoes and hadn't chopped nearly enough garlic. She kept herself from micromanaging the whole thing, but it was getting harder and harder to do so.
"Doll, I used to make dinner for me and my sister. I think I can handle this." He replies, setting the knife he was using to chop up the yellow onion aside. He scoops up the onion in his hands, moving to toss it into the big pan on the stove. The onions sizzle as soon as it hits the olive oil covered surface of the pan.
When Y/N had told Bucky she was craving pasta, she had kind of meant that they would just pick something up. Bucky had decided that he would make the meal himself and Y/N, once she saw how excited he was, didn't have the heart to tell him that she had wanted take-out.
It was actually sort of sweet, seeing him trying to hard to make this meal for her. All he wanted to do is take care of her, take care of their baby. She loved cooking for him for the same reason. It was a way to show her love, to show how much she cared about him and he just wanted to do the same.
"Alright, Barnes. I believe in you." Y/N responds, smiling at him. She just watched as he cooked (and occasionally danced to the jazz music that was playing on the record player). It didn't matter if the meal sucked, Bucky was just trying his best to take care of his girlfriend and their child.
But for the record, the meal did suck.
-
Eight Months
It was a sight, seeing them together.
Bucky held their daughter close to his chest, bouncing her carefully as the light started to filter through the blinds of her hospital room. A smile was stretched across his tired face as he moved from side to side, cooing to her softly. His hair was a mess, his clothes incredibly wrinkled. The morning light surrounded the two like a halo and if Y/N could, she'd take a picture of them. A picture of her family.
Their daughter had been born a month early, which wasn't too surprising considering with how fast she had been growing. Although it was a shock when Y/N's water broke the night before while they were sleeping. Then Y/N had spent most of yesterday in labor, finally giving birth to their sweet baby girl-Rebecca Natalia Barnes, named after Bucky's little sister and Y/N's best friend-in the evening. Bucky had started crying when Y/N had told him that she had wanted to name their daughter after his sister, not thinking that Y/N would have wanted to pay tribute to his long dead sister.
"Look Rebecca, mommy's awake." Bucky says softly, looking over to where Y/N was laying in her bed. The Super Soldier grinned at her, still rocking their child. Y/N smiled at the two of them, shifting on the bed so she can sit up a bit more as her boyfriend walked over. She looks up at the two, her heart swelling with the way Bucky looks holding their daughter.
"Hi baby." Y/N says hoarsely, the bundle of pink shifting and squirming in Bucky's arms. She holds her arms out, silently asking if she can hold Rebecca. Bucky carefully places the newborn into her arms before he pulls the plastic chair closer to the bed, not wanting to be too far from either of them.
"I can't believe she's actually here." Y/N announces softly, taking in every detail of her daughter's face in the early morning light. She had Bucky's blue-gray eyes and his nose, but her hair. It felt weird to see her, felt weird to be holding her. Y/N felt like she was dreaming, but the pain she had gone through the night before-the pain she was still feeling now-had made it real.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Bucky asks, looking at mother and child interacting. Y/N nods, tears filling her eyes as she looks down at her daughter. She presses her lips against Rebecca's forehead, taking in that baby smell that every parenting book seemed to mention. Bucky is still smiling, looking at the two, "My two beautiful girls."
Hours from now, the hospital room would be filled with friends what were more likely family, wanting to share this incredibly special moment with the Y/L/N-Barnes family. Rebecca would be introduced with her aunts and uncles, each one of them getting a chance to hold and introduce themselves to the newborn.
But for now, for now, the three of them were alone. The three of them sat together in this room, all getting used to each other. Nothing else existed outside of this room, nothing else mattered outside of this room. All that mattered was that they were together.
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miekasa · 3 years
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any spare levi headcanons tonight????? 😁😁😁😁
Sure, why not, he is the love of my life after all. These are pretty random, and fit in some sort of generalized modern boyfriend au. Hopelessly domestic, as that is the nature of nearly everything I write for Levi, anyway. Also still terribly obsessed with the idea of him with a motorcycle, so there’s that.
He owns at least six black blazers. They’re nearly identical; slight differences in texture and cut, one with lapels, one that’s boldly all leather that you swear you’ve never seen him wear. They’re kind of his go-to staple, other than a sweater.
That being said, he doesn’t exclusively wear all black. His closet leans towards more neutrals, sure, but he’s not allergic to color. You might not catch him wearing neon orange on the average day, but he’s not averse to a nice shade of green, any shade of purple that suits his mood, even a softer pink.
He has towels and rags he sets aside especially for you when he comes over. He always washes them and put them back in place when you leave so that they’re ready to go for next time.
Claims to not have any attachment to the shows/dramas you watch, but he’s totally backseat watching. Halfway into every single series, he starts sitting down when you turn it on, and scoffs at dumb decisions the characters make.
He splurged on one of those frame TVs that look like a painting when they’re idle. It was a good investment in his opinion.
He doesn’t hate Starbucks drinks—there’s worse things out there in terms of quality of tea. What he despises about the establishment is the way they call out names for you to pick up your order. He’s learned that mobile order ahead is the way to go.
Has slippers for around the house, so consequently, you have slippers for walking around his house. He keeps both pairs (and a few extra for friends and guests) tucked neatly beside the door for easy access; yours always go next to his.
Does not understand the purpose of a robe. Buy him one tho and he will suddenly find an excuse to wear it: making breakfast, lounging around watching TV, doing some light cleaning and dusting. It’s comfy, alright, he can admit that much.
The little puppy you got him that he swore he was not going to warm up to now gets the royal treatment. The best doggie goods and treats, top rated shampoos, cutest drying towels, even a miniature couch he constructed just for the pup. They’re best friends, there’s no breaking that bond now.
Speaking of the puppy, affectionately named Captain, Levi can be found walking him every day shortly after work. They have a few different routes, but they always pass by the local vendors/market, who enthusiastically anticipate their appearance every day. Some of the older ladies running stands have even taken to bringing a few treats with them for Captain—after bundling up some goods for Levi, too, of course.
Captain also has a special doggy backpack Levi uses for when he’s on his motorcycle. If you follow anybody on TikTok in his area, you’re bound to see at least one video of the pup while Levi’s out riding. He’s become viral on social media without even knowing it.
(When you show him a video someone posted of him and Captain with well over 100k likes, and a million views, he only rolled his eyes. But remembers that particularly day; remembers the folks had a kid who politely asked to pet the dog, so he let him. He also maybe asks you to send the link to him).
On the subject of the motorcycle, there was a good few weeks he wouldn’t let you on it. Always found an excuse, a smart reply that was punctuated with gentle push on your forehead and calling you too clumsy for it. Later, you found out it’s because he’d ordered you a helmet; didn’t want to risk you riding without one.
He always keeps it in the storage compartment should he make a stop to pick you up while he’s riding; and he usually wears at least two layers to have a spare to wrap you in before you get on.
When he cooks, he always makes sure there’s enough for leftovers and/or to give you some later. He also bakes frequently, and at least once a week, he stops by with some kind of treat for you—“Trying out a new recipe, let me know if you think it’s missing anything.”
On the subject of food, he won’t police what you eat to annoying extent; he knows that not everybody has the time or will to make pasta from scratch like he does. But, he will smack your wrist if you consider ordering fast food when you’re over at this place. Give him 30 minutes and a single pan, he’ll make something much better than whatever you can find on Uber Eats.
Really, though, he doesn’t mean to obnoxious about the homemade food thing, it’s more habit for him. Growing up, he had to learn to be resourceful, so buying fast-food isn’t ever at the forefront of his mind. Cooking for you also turns out to be something somewhat intimate that he enjoys, so just let him.
Once bought an Apple Watch because he liked the look of them, it wasn’t insanely expensive like other high end watches, and it could connect to his other devices, so why not? A week later he returned it, the ping of his notifications were in one too many places for his liking.
You tried to convince him to keep it—“At least for when you’re jogging! It can track your activity and calories!”—but he clicks his teeth. He’ll survive without keeping track of them.
He learned the hard way that jogging with Captain is no good. His legs are too tiny and Levi ended up carrying the puppy the entire time. Captain is more of a walk dog… or ride on the back of his bike dog.
If you changed anything in his phone settings—like the ringtone for you contact, or the sound his keyboard makes—he wouldn’t go back in and try to figure out how to reset it. Unless it was something obnoxious, like adding an autocorrect shortcut to say something lewd.
He doesn’t really listen to music when he’s just walking. When he’s on a run, that’s fine, but he somewhat prefers to just… hear the environment around him when he’s on a stroll or a break from work. The only reason he’d have headphones on in public is to take a phone call, but even then, he’d prefer to wait until he’s somewhere more private.
He likes having you over at his apartment and has contemplated asking you to move in. He doesn’t want to rush anything, though, so he’s content with your sleepovers for now. (Though he really cannot fathom that you call them “sleepovers” like you’re 14. Please).
He speaks to his mother at least once a week, and she always asks about you. Levi tells her that you’re fine, gives her small updates about you, but Kuchel really just wants to know when the wedding is. He pretends to be busy whenever she starts asking and conveniently ends the call.
Occasionally, he’ll stop by and take you out for lunch. Depends on how much time he has during the day for himself, but he always enjoys sharing a meal with you.
Whenever you’re out with your friends drinking, Levi will pick you up. Even if you already told him that you’d Uber home; as soon as you text him that you’re going to leave soon, he’s already on his way.
He makes pretty good cocktails himself. Teases you for running his alcohol supply dry when the truth is he has more of your favorites in his cabinet than his own. He secretly likes the way you flirt with him when you’re tipsy.
You don’t always cuddle on top of each other when you sleep together. You can just lay by each other and that’s enough; but sometimes, you catch Levi turning towards you in his sleep, reaching for your hand. His body seems to search for yours subconsciously, and you swear there’s a hint of a smile on his sleeping face when you put your hand within reach.
Do not try to pay for dinner when you’re out with him. He’ll pull the “I’m going to use the restroom” move and pay the bill behind your back if he needs to. Open your own doors, maybe; pull out your own chairs, sure if you want; but not this.
He flosses very diligently every night. Mostly because he fucking hates the dentist, so if he takes the extra steps and is extra careful with his teeth, he doesn’t have to go as often, right?—Wrong, it’s the one time the roles are reversed, and you and Hange have to wrestle him into the doctor’s office.
On the flip side, if there are any doctors you routinely avoid and/or forget to schedule check ups for, fear not, because Levi will do it for you. He’ll drive you there, too—the only caveat being, that he usually doesn’t tell you where you’re going until you’re almost there. You think he’s doing the mysterious man surprise date thing and then boom, he’s pulling up to the ophthalmologist. Good luck.
He’s purchased a physical, paper copy of the news on every one of your anniversaries, birthdays, and other special occasions. He keeps them all neatly tucked away in a drawer. Sometimes, he looks back on them—sees what was happening in the world around you on that day. Maybe someday he’ll cut them up and bind them together in a book for you.
He doesn’t like having headphones in when you’re home with him, and preferred if you didn’t either—unless it was for work or school. He welcomes you to use his speakers and play your music aloud; he likes listening to what you listen to. If you look closely, you can catch him humming along or tapping his foot when he really likes a song.
Saves pictures you send him in an album in his camera roll. Occasionally can be found scrolling through them—particularly if you’ve been away on a trip, or he hasn’t gotten the chance to see you because of conflicting schedules.
He takes relatively short showers and doesn’t have a strong preference for the water temperature, so he lets you shower first. Unless you want him to join you, of course.
It’s not hard to tell when Levi wants you. He becomes noticeably more touchy, even if that margin isn’t too wide by anyone else’s standards; and he rarely tries to hide it. It only happens in the privacy of your apartments; but he’ll come on to you—leaning a bit further into conversations, a hand on your knee, a kind of cloudy look in his eyes.
Sometimes he forgoes the attempts at being subtle, just kisses you out the blue, carefully backs you up against the wall, puts his hands on your hips. He can be awfully direct when given the opportunity.
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tricksters-captain · 3 years
Text
Bucky Barnes imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 4
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AN: What a crazy episode! I definitely think this episode was one of the best so far and I cannot wait to see what happens next after that insane ending!
Overall Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  
In this chapter: Now in Latvia, you and the boys must find Karli before the Dora take Zemo away (Based on S1 EP4)
(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)
Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader
Word Count: 6,123
Warnings: Spoilers for episode 4, violence, strong language.
Once inside Zemo’s apartment, you started to look through the cupboards. 
Zemo had excused himself to take a bath but you felt starved. 
Even with the limited stock you managed to whip something up for you and Sam. 
“Thank you.” Sam took the bowl from you gratefully. The food Zemo had given you on his private plane wasn’t exactly edible and you were still feeling the affects of the Nagel fail in your body. 
“Well, the Wakandans are here.” Bucky announced as he entered the apartment; having returned from his walk. “They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.”
“”Were you followed?” Sam looked up at him. 
“No.” Bucky made his way over to you and Sam by the kitchen island. 
“How can you be so sure?” Zemo pondered. 
“Cause I know when I’m being followed.” Bucky sent an unimpressed glance to the man in the bathrobe. 
You pushed a bowl of pasta towards Bucky but he shook his head and pulled out his phone.
“It was sweet of you to defend me at least.” Zemo stated. 
“Hey, you shut it.” Sam quipped. “No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel.” 
“You gotta eat.” You whispered to Bucky. 
“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo rounded the island so he was closer to you all.
“I’ll eat later.” Bucky mumbled back to you as he furrowed his brow at twitter. 
“There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man.” Sam argued with Zemo. 
“Sam.” Bucky had found something. 
“What?” Sam turned his attention to Bucky and away from Zemo. 
“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.” Bucky showed you his phone screen so you could read.
“What? What’s the damage?” Sam’s concern grew quickly. 
“Eleven injured, three dead.” You said after skimming over the article. 
“They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.” Bucky added as Sam sighed. 
“She’s getting worse.” Zemo spoke up. “I have the will to complete this mission. Do the three of you?”
“She’s just a kid.” Sam was right. She was only young, she reminded you of you when you first joined the avengers. Desperate to fight for a cause. 
“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there.” Zemo disagreed. “You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist. The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.”
“You’re talking about our friends.” You felt the need to remind Zemo that you were actually apart of the Avengers as you placed your empty bowl in the sink. 
“The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Bucky felt the need to clarify. 
“So, Karli is radicalised, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.” Sam was determined there wasn’t a need for a fight. 
“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her.” Zemo explained as he reached for the bowl you had originally offered Bucky. “Or she kills you.” 
You swatted his hand away to which he frowned at. 
“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.” Bucky argued his point. 
“Touché.” Zemo picked up a biscuit instead. Holding it on his finger as he spoke. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”
“Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.” Bucky suggested to you and Sam as he moved over to the couch. 
“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo asked as he opened the cupboards to look for some food. 
“Yes.” Bucky didn’t hesitate. 
“From my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right?” Sam interrupted with a new thought. “So, when I was a kid, my TT passed away.”
“Your TT?” Bucky asked, unsure of what Sam had meant. 
“Yeah, my TT, yeah.” Sam nodded. 
“Who is your TT?” Bucky asked as you sat down beside him. 
“Fine. When I was a kid, my aunt passed away and the entire neighborhood got together for a ceremony. It was like a week long. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya.” Sam proposed. He could be right. 
“Worth a shot.” You proclaimed. 
“Your TT would be proud of you.” Zemo sounded more awkward at the use of the phrase before he pulled out a fancy looking tin. “Turkish delight? Irresistible.”
Sam caught the small sweet that Zemo had thrown. 
“I say Zemo put’s some clothes on and we head over to the refugee camp that Donya was staying. See if anyone knows anything about a funeral or ceremony for her.” You ignored Zemo as he looked down at the sweets. 
“Sounds like a plan.” Sam stood from his seat at the island and looked over at Zemo. 
Zemo nodded before disappearing into a bedroom to change. 
It didn't take long to get to the camp from Zemo’s apartment. 
“Shame what’s become of this place. When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties. I knew nothing of the politics of the time, of course, but I remember it being beautiful.” Zemo seemed saddened by the state of the buildings being used as the camp. 
“I’m gonna take a look around upstairs. See what you can find out here. And keep an eye on him.” Sam told Bucky as he gestured to Zemo. 
“I’ll stay out of your way.” Zemo promised. 
“(Y/n), you look around through there. See if you can... You know.” Sam pointed down through one of the ground floor doors. You nodded and left the men.
Most of the adults fled when you entered the building but you noticed a young girl who looked too busy with what she was doing to notice. She had looked maybe 16 or 17 years old and she was embroidering an old silk scarf. 
“That’s beautiful.” You knelt down beside her but as you spoke, her eyes shot up and widened with shock and fear. 
“T-t-thank you.” She stuttered as her eyes flittered around the room for help. 
“It’s okay. I was just wondering if I could have a look at it.” You smiled softly at the girl as you held your hand out. 
She reluctantly gave it to you. 
“This truly is beautiful. You are very talented. May I buy it from you?” You placed your hand in your pocket and pulled out a note that you had previously stolen from Zemo’s jacket.
“You c-c-can have it.” She whispered as she stood. You rose with her as you folded the scarf to place into your pocket. 
“I insist.” You took her hand gently and cautiously and placed the money in her palm. She smiled but she still was nervous and full of worry. You figured she knew who you were. 
You folded your hands over hers and that’s when you unplugged the cork on your powers. 
You closed your eyes and within seconds all the girls memories flooded into your head. 
You tried not to react as it happened. 
You tried your best to filter through the memories quickly. When you reached the time after the blip, you slowed down. You saw the horrors of them being rejected, being abandoned and then you saw Mama Donya and Karli. 
You focused on Karli. 
You watched Karli smile and laugh with all the children, she’d play and look after them as Donya looked after Karli. 
Closer memories brought what seemed like events that only just happened. Karli visiting with supplies. 
You saw the mourning of Mama Donya from everyone and then you saw the arrangements for the funeral. 
You opened your eyes and let go of the girls hand. She thanked you again and left. She would have never realised what you had seen as the memories are shown to you within a matter of seconds. 
You leant against the table and inhaled deeply. 
You felt weak again. 
You pushed yourself off the table and headed back out to Bucky. 
Zemo was surrounded by a bunch of small children.
“You okay?”Bucky asked. The second you reappeared he immediately noticed a change in you. 
“I’m okay.” You lied. “I spoke to one of the teenagers inside. I looked inside her head. You were right, Sam. They are having a funeral but she only knew that she would be taken to it later this afternoon.” You explained as Sam joined you both. 
“Good work.” Sam wrapped his arm around you and gave you a small squeeze of appreciation. 
They both knew how hard it must've been for you to use your powers after the Nagel incident. 
The toll of touching the dead had knocked you for six in the past and in a matter of forty eight hours you had touched the dead and looked into the memories of a live person. 
You’ll need an energy boost before you can do this again. 
Zemo turned back to you and you all returned to the apartment. 
“Well, I got nothin’. No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” Bucky slouched down on the couch in defeat. 
“Yeah, it’s because Karli is the only one fighting for them.” Sam joined him on the couch. “And she’s not wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Bucky asked. 
“For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom. Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doin’ somethin’.” Sam explained himself. 
“You really think her ends justify her means? Then, she’s no different than him or anybody else we’ve fought.” Bucky pointed over to Zemo. 
“She’s different. She’s not motivated by the same things.” Sam argued with Bucky.
“Sam’s right.” You spoke up. “When I looked into that girls head I saw a lot of Karli. She means a lot to those people, she is their light, their Captain America. But she’s just a kid. From what I saw she has a whole lot of love in her heart and I'm not saying that hurting and killing people is right but she sees it as the only way to help her people.” 
Zemo had walked over from the kitchen with a tray as you spoke. 
“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky questioned him. 
“The funeral is this afternoon.” Zemo only said what you already knew. 
“We know that. Now you know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.” Bucky demanded. 
“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.” Zemo sure knew how to push someone’s buttons. 
Bucky shot up and threw Zemo’s cup against the wall. The crashing of the glass made both you and Sam jump to your feet. 
“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky threatened Zemo. 
“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” Sam tried to de-elevate the situation. “Let me make a call.”
“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offered Bucky as Sam walked away.
“No, you go ahead.” Bucky grumbled, scowling at the Baron. 
“Come on.” You took Bucky’s hand and pulled him away from Zemo. 
You headed into the bathroom and started to fill up the tub with some cold water. 
“Will you get me some ice?” You asked Bucky to which he complied. 
Once the tub was full of ice water, you stripped and climbed inside. 
Bucky had taken a stool and faced the door to give you some privacy. 
“You shouldn’t let him get to you.” You said as you settled into the water. Your body was screaming at you as the ice touched it but you knew it’d give you the wake up call you and your muscles needed. 
“I don’t.” Bucky grimaced. 
“You don’t? Oh, so the shattered cup in the other room was just a scare tactic?” You mused. 
“Yep.” Bucky grumbled. 
“Okay.” You sighed before going under. 
The cold water hit your brain and you immediately sat back up. 
“Feel better?” Bucky had heard the splashing of the water. 
“Yeah.” You admitted, running your hands over your face and hair. “Can I have my towel?”
Bucky kept his back to you as he passed you the towel. 
You wrapped it around you and stepped out. 
“You can look.” You told him.
Bucky turned and his eyes went straight to the bruises that covered your legs and arms. 
“I’m okay, Buck.” You assured him as you watched the cogs turning in his head. 
“I forget you aren’t...” Bucky’s words dropped off as he stepped closer and lightly took your arm, examining the damage. 
“That I’m not a super soldier?” You smirked. “I may bruise but I can hold a lot more than most, Buck.” 
“Doesn’t stop me worrying.” Bucky admitted as he lowered your arm. 
“I know.” You whispered, looking up at the man’s deep blue eyes.
“You better get dressed. You already know what Sam is thinking with us both being gone right now.” Bucky went to go towards the door when you stopped him. 
“I had a dream about Wakanda on the plane ride here.” You confessed. 
Bucky stopped and looked back at you. 
“It was the day you finally beat the Winter Soldier.” You told him. 
*Flashback*
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“These are incredible, Shuri.”  You smiled widely as you threw the new high tech Vibranium knives that Shuri had made for you. 
“I know. I know.” Shuri was well aware of her awesome brain. 
Shuri pressed the combat button on the wall which simulated attackers for intense weapon training. 
You inhaled as you closed your eyes. 
A footstep gave away your first attacker. You threw the knives to the holograms and the attackers were down. You ducked and dodged and jumped around the room as you practised with the knives. 
Shuri cheered you when you finished. You smiled through your heavy breaths and Shuri jogged towards you to give you a fist bump. 
“You are something else, my friend.” Shuri praised you. 
The doors opening behind you made both you and Shuri turn to see who had entered. 
It was Bucky. 
He rushed towards you with a bright smile. His lips seemed to quiver and his eyes were glassy. Something had happened. 
It had happened.
He embraced you tightly and you returned it. Your fingers gripped onto Bucky’s long hair as he buried his face in your neck. 
You looked back at Ayo (who had followed Bucky) and Shuri and mouthed a ‘Thank you’. 
Ayo bowed her head at you before leaving the hall. 
Bucky had finally gotten over HYDRA’s programming after all these years of being held prisoner by a few words. 
You and Bucky stayed like that for what felt like hours. The relief from Bucky washed over you and bound him to you until he was ready to part. 
It was an incredible day.
*End of Flashback*
“Maybe you could sense that the Dora’s were close on our tails.” Bucky suggested. 
“No, we all knew that they’d come for Zemo eventually.” You dismissed the idea. “I think it was after seeing Zemo treat you like him again.” 
Bucky remained silent. 
“I don’t think I ever told you how proud I was of you that day.” You folded your arms over your chest as you leant back on the tub.
“You didn't need to.” Bucky assured you. “I already knew.” 
You watched Bucky leave the bathroom so you could change. 
When you had returned to the main space again it was just about time to head out again. 
You felt a little nervous as you didn’t really want a fight with Karli since you weren’t 100% but you figured you had felt a hell of a lot worse before.
As you left the apartment, a voice and face you didn’t particularly wanna see called out. 
“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.” John Walker and his little side kick were walking down some stairs towards you. 
“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called back. 
“Come on. You think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Lemar, Walker’s partner, scoffed. 
“No more keeping us in the dark. You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” Walker pointed out Zemo. 
“He did that himself, technically.” Bucky corrected Walker.  
“This better be an unbelievable explana––”
“––Hey, take it easy before it gets weird.” Sam interrupted Walker before things could get heated in front of civilians.
“I know where Karli is.” Zemo kept walking as the others stopped. 
“Well, where?” Walker asked, stopping Zemo by stepping in his way. 
“All we know is it’s a memorial. So, we’re gonna intercept her there.” Sam informed them.
“That means civilians. High risk of casualties.” Lemar relaid to his partner as you continued to walk.
“All right, good, we’ll move in fast. Take her by surprise.” Walker started to talk through his plan when Sam stopped him. 
“No, I wanna talk to her alone.”
“I’m not losing her again.” Walker argued with Sam. 
“Look, the person closest to her died, she’s vulnerable. Now is the best time to reason with her.” Sam was trying to defend his reasoning but Walker wasn’t having it. 
“What? No. Wait, no! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop, okay?” Walker ran up ahead to stop everyone again. “I think we’re way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot that she blew up a building with people still in it.” 
“Sam, you walk in there cold, she could kill you, man.”Lemar tried backing up his partner. 
“If I go in hot and the op goes wrong, more people will die.” Sam handed over the other scenario. 
“You’ll let him do this?” Walker looked between you and Bucky. “Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?”
“He’s dealt with worse.” Bucky told him flatly. “And he’s not my partner.”
“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is in my wheelhouse.” Sam walked past you and Bucky to face Walker.
“I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea.” Walker still wasn't on board. 
“Wait, John.” Lemar stopped Walker.  “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.”  
“Thank god Battle-scar here has some sense.” You declared. 
“It’s Battle Star actually.”Lemar smiled at you but you ignored him. 
“We’ll deal with you later.” Walker told Zemo as he caved in.
“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.” Zemo lead you towards the young girl he had spoken to earlier that day. 
“Hello, my friend. This is for your family. Can you show us the way?” Zemo handed her some money and the girl beckoned for you all to follow.  
“What the hell?” Walker seemed a little confused by Zemo’s ‘associate’ being 12.
The girl lead you to the building where the funeral was being held and you all waited for a signal. 
“Karli’s in there.” Zemo announced as the girl ran off. 
Sam went in whilst Walker cuffed Zemo. 
“You got 10 minutes. Then we are doing things my way.” Walker told Sam before he left. 
“Aggressive.” Zemo mumbled after being handcuffed. “But I get it.”
You rolled your eyes subtly at both Walker and Zemo. 
You took up a position by the door with Bucky. 
You watched Walker sit down, his grip on the shield was tight as he slowly huffed in and out. 
You frowned as you studied the man. Your eyes glanced over to Zemo who was also watching Walker. 
You shared a look before you let your eyes fall back down to your feet.  
“Uh-uh. No, no, no. This is a bad idea.” Walker started to pace as he let his impatience get the best of him. 
“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky sighed unimpressed by the young solder. 
“Don’t do that. Don’t patronise me.” Walker glared back at Bucky. 
“Sam knows what he’s doing.” You backed Bucky up. 
You all watched Walker stop as he thought. His heavy breathes causing his chest to rise up and down quickly. 
“I’m goin’ in.” Walker didn’t want to listen anymore. He stormed towards the door but both you and Bucky stepped in his way.
“This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” Walker didn’t even look at you as he squared up to Bucky. 
That really bothered you.
You took hold of the man’s upper arm and yanked him to look at you. 
“You may be Captain America right now but we don’t follow you. We said we’d give him 10 minutes. So, he’s getting 10 minutes.” You glowered at the man. 
“Your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?” Walker leant towards you, trying to be intimidating but it wasn’t working. 
“Just wait.” You looked the man in the eye with a subtle threat in your stare. His jaw clenched as he tugged his arm away from you. 
Walker went back to look at the clock again. 
After a couple more minutes, he tried once more. 
“Time’s up! Our turn.” Walker didn’t hesitate to push past you as he charged ahead. 
Bucky kept his tongue in his cheek as he watched it happen. 
You and Bucky stayed behind Walker and his partner as they marched ahead.
“Karli Morgenthau, you’re under arrest.” Walker announced as he entered the room. 
“This is what that was?” Betrayal flashed across Karli’s face as she looked at Sam. 
“No, wait––” Sam didn’t have a chance now that Walker had intervened.
“––Tricking me until help came?” Karli started to back away. 
“We had enough time to talk.” Walker exclaimed as he headed straight for Karli. 
“Nazi! “ Karli wasn't going the easy way. She hit Walker back and he went straight into a table. 
Lemar tried to keep you and Bucky back but you had easily managed to get round him to chase after Karli. 
Bucky being what he was managed to get ahead of you but you were close on their trail. 
Sam had found his own way but ultimately you all lost Karli. 
“I lost her.” Bucky sighed.
“This place is a maze.” Sam looked around at the several doorways with a frown. 
The sound of gunshots is what caught your attention next. 
“Come on.” You rushed through the building trying to get to the source. 
You didn’t manage to get there before Walker did. 
Zemo was unconscious on the floor and vials of the serum were smashed around the concrete floor. 
“What happened?” You asked as you looked down at the mess. 
“He was shooting at Karli. I stopped him but she got away.” Walker lifted his shield a little to symbol how he had stopped Zemo. 
“Let’s get him up.” Sam started down the stairs and you followed. 
Zemo woke up after a little encouragement and some smelling salts. You had decided it was best if you split up on your way back to the apartment. 
You and Sam were going to stay with Zemo and see if you can dig up anything on socials and the computer and Bucky was going to do a round and see if she had holed up anywhere familiar. 
Sam sat at his computer, he was contacting Sharon whilst you stood with your phone searching Twitter to see if any Flag Smashers appearances or Karli were popping up in recent tweets. 
Zemo laid down on the couch with a wet towel and a strong glass of scotch. 
“You got anything?” Sam asked you. 
“Nothing. I don’t think we’ll find her this time if she doesn’t want us too.” You put your phone down in defeat. It wasn't usual for people to give her Karli’s location anyway. 
“I think you’re right.” Sam hated to agree but this was the first time you had come close to actually talking Karli down and it failed. 
“And now with the serum’s gone. Who knows what her next move will be.” You knew that Karli didn’t have the option to create more super soldiers now and that gives her a disadvantage. The idea of an army is gone now and she would only have her current foot soldiers to help her. 
Zemo moved for the first time in ten minutes as he lifted his cold compress. 
“Were you ever offered it?" He asked aloud. 
“What?” Sam furrowed his brow at the man. 
“The serum.” Zemo replied. 
“No.” Sam smirked at the idea. 
“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?” Zemo inquired. 
“No.” Sam answered instantly, his smile dropping. 
“No hesitation. That’s impressive.” Zemo nodded before removing his towel. “Sam. (Y/n). You can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone. And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst real people. Super Soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”
“Isn’t that how gods talk?” Sam queried. “And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?” There was a silence from Zemo. “Blood isn’t always the solution.” 
Before the conversation could continue, the door opened and Bucky strode inside.
“Something’s not right about Walker.” Bucky stated as he removed his jacket. 
“You don’t say.” Sam huffed with amusement. It was clear as day that Walker was at his wits end with the pressure on him.
“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.” Bucky poured himself a glass of whiskey. You rolled your eyes at his statement. 
“Can’t argue with that.” Sam retorted. 
“Shouldn’t have given him the shield.” Bucky was back on this topic again. 
“I didn’t give him the shield.” Sam rose to his feet to face Bucky.
“Well, Steve definitely didn’t.” Bucky sipped on his drink just as the doors flew open. 
All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over.” Walker commanded, his face red and his ears steaming. 
“Hey, slow your roll. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. We’ll need all hands on deck for whatever’s comin’ next.” Sam approached Walker to try and pump his breaks. 
“How do you want the rest of this conversation to go, Sam, huh?” Walker chuckled softly as Sam remained silent. “Yeah. Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?”
Sam scoffed, shaking his head at the man’s antics. 
Walker put down the shield but the only thing flying next was a spear that struck the pillar by Walker’s head. 
It was the Dora Milaje. 
They had come for Zemo. 
From your time in Wakanda you understood the language as Ayo spoke to Bucky. 
“Even if he is a means to an end. Your time is up.” Ayo reverted back to English. “Release him to us now.” 
Walker introduced himself to Ayo, not that she cared for him.
“Well let’s, uh, put the pointy sticks down and we can talk this through, huh?” Walker suggested, only to be met, yet again, by silence from the Dora’s.
“Hey, John, take it easy. You might wanna fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.” Sam tried to warn him but he wasn’t backing down. 
“They don’t have jurisdiction here––”
“––The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.” Ayo cut Walker short. 
“Okay.” John chuckled lightly. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Walker made the mistake of putting his hand on Ayo’s shoulder. 
Ayo responded with an attack. 
The surrounding Dora’s fell into defence positions as Ayo and Walker fought.  Lemar bounced into action, trying to help his partner out but it only warranted in more fighting. Or more asses getting kicked by the Dora Milaje. 
“We should do something.” Sam said as you, him and Bucky stood together watching. 
“Looking strong, John.” Bucky called out. 
“Bucky!” You tried not to laugh as you scolded the man. 
“Guys...” Sam nodded to Ayo about to strike John with her spear which made Bucky reluctantly intervene. 
“Ayo, let’s talk about this.” Bucky only landed himself directly in the mess. 
You realised how serious this was as Ayo didn’t hold back and went ahead to help Bucky. Sam went over to help Lemar but was met by more Dora's.
You grunted as one of the women attacked you. You had almost forgotten just how incredible they were at combat. Almost. 
You were backed against a wall with the spear to your chest when the room fell silent. 
You looked over at Bucky to see his arm was on the floor. 
You wanted to move towards him but you were stuck until orders were given to release you. 
“He is gone. Leave it.” Ayo had opened the bathroom doors to reveal the manhole had been opened. Zemo had escaped. 
You were trying to slow your breathing when finally the Dora’s fell back. 
She retracted her spear and left with Ayo and the others. 
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“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked Bucky as he pushed himself off the floor. 
Bucky reattached his arm. He groaned as he swung it round to adjust it. 
“No.” He said but the shock on his face from before had already given away that answer. 
You looked past Bucky to where Walker was still on the floor. 
“You all right, man?” Lemar offered his hand to help him up. 
“They weren’t even Super Soldiers.” You heard Walker mutter. 
“Come on.” Lemar tugged him to his feet. 
“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.” Sam walked over to the bathroom and stared at the hole. 
“I can.” Bucky wasn’t really that surprised and neither were you truthfully. 
“Come on.” You beckoned the boys out of the apartment so you could talk. 
You got down to the streets and away from Walker before you spoke again. 
“Walker isn’t stable. He’s on the brink of cracking.” You kept your voice low as you spoke to the boys. 
“What do you mean?” Sam asked. 
“We may not like him but he’s not stupid. He knows that he can’t be Steve, do the things Steve did and it’s killing him. He's so obviously trying to win this fight by himself and it’s going to drive him insane if he isn’t the one to beat Karli.” 
“But he can’t beat Karli. You saw her kick him across the room like he was a cardboard box.” Sam reminded you of what happened earlier. 
“We have to get to Karli before he does because he’s either gonna stop her or kill himself trying.” You weren't worried for the man but worried about what would happen if he finally snapped. 
Suddenly, Sam’s phone started to ring. It was his sister. 
“She said what? Right. Hold on, hold on. I know, I know. Listen, pack an overnight bag and take the boys...” Sam sounded worried. 
“What happened?” Bucky asked. 
“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.” Sam told you both. “Okay. Go somewhere safe. Only pay cash. All right? Tell me when you arrive. I know. Look, I love you. I’ll never let anything happen to you and the boys. Okay. Bye.” He hung up and then immediately texted an unknown number. 
“What does she want?” You knew Karli was desperate but threatening kids was a different story.
“Karli wants to meet. She left a contact number.” Sam’s phone buzzed with a new text. “She said come alone.”
“We’re coming with you.” Bucky wasn’t going to take no for an answer. 
“Alright but keep your distance.” Sam didn’t bother to fight you on it. “We better suit up.” 
You suited up by adding a few more weapons to your body. You placed your favourite thigh holsters on that held your Vibranium knives out on display. 
Sam got his wings and soon you were at the location. 
“Karli!” Sam bellowed as you entered the building. 
Karli leant over a balcony to make herself seen. You remained on the ground floor but looked up at the girl. Bucky followed Sam. 
“You called my sister? That’s how we’re gonna play this?” Sam was upset and understandably so. 
“Sam, I would never hurt her. I just wanted to understand you better.” Karli confessed.“I see you, um, didn’t come alone.”Karli peered down at you then up at Bucky. 
“You have to end this now.” Sam told her. 
“I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re a tool in the regimes I’m looking to destroy. You’re not hiding behind a shield. If I were to kill you, it’d be meaningless. I was gonna ask you to join me. Or do the world a favour and let me go.” Karli spoke pretty boldly for someone who seemed to be alone. Super Soldier or not. 
“Hey, Sam, new Cap is moving, looks like he’s found them, or maybe they found him.” Sharon’s voice came through on Sam’s intercom. 
“It’s Walker.” Sam looked down at you and then Bucky. 
Karli jumped from the balcony at the realisation the jig was up but Bucky was quick to jump too. 
Karli kicked Bucky back but you managed to weaken Karli as you flipped over and kicked her in the jaw. 
Sam put her down momentarily as he flew down and kicked her also. 
“I’ll send you the location. Go!” Sam ordered both you and Bucky before he took off. 
You knew Bucky would be fast enough to run there but you didn’t have that luxury. 
You crossed the street to a parked motorbike and opened up it’s wiring. Just as you managed to get it running, Sam’s coordinates came through. 
You docked your phone and set off. 
You dodged through the narrow streets and traffic to arrive at another large building. Karli must have a favour for buildings you could get lost in. 
You drove through the doors and skidded to a stop. 
Bucky had gotten there before you. You could hear his grunts from a flight or two up. 
You raced up them only to be met by a super soldier fighting Bucky. 
You sent a knife forward, it embedded itself into the man’s soldier, he cried out which gave Bucky some time to throw him down the stairs. 
You tucked up, over the tumbling body, holding onto the railing and the wall. 
Bucky jumped over the rails and with one final blow knocked the soldier unconscious. 
“Stay there.” Bucky told him before climbing back up to you. He thanked you for the help, handing you back the knife that had been in the man’s shoulder. 
You then both went ahead to find Sam and Walker. 
They were fighting more super soldiers a floor up. 
You didn’t hesitate to go in for the attack.
You pulled a knife and threw it to Bucky for help; he caught it midair. 
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You screamed with frustration as the soldier you were fighting, pulled your arm behind you and slammed you into the pillar. You managed to swivel around, taking out the soldiers legs as you freed your arm. 
You threw a knife into both his biceps. You only intended to injure, not kill, them anyway. 
He groaned as he pulled them and tried to use them against you. 
All at once, the fighting stopped when you all witnessed Karli kick Lemar into one of the concrete pillars. 
Lemar’s body slumped down with blood painted across his lips. 
John broke free from his attacker and slowly made his way over to Lemar. 
From the sight of the body, you already knew he wasn’t walking out of there. 
Walker desperately tried to wake him up. 
That’s when Karli took her chance to flee. 
You and the boys took off after her but lost her again pretty quickly. 
When you rounded the building, you saw a crowd gathering. 
What you saw next made you feel psychically sick. 
John Walker stood above Karli’s right hand man, blood splattered up Steve’s shield and across his uniform. 
He had killed the man in front of all these civilians. He had killed a man as Captain America. 
(PART 5 HERE)
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