𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 ౨ৎ

ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀʏ ʙᴏʏ- ɪꜱᴀɢɪ ʏᴏɪᴄʜɪ

now playing..
if you think I'm pretty- by artemas

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:03

♪ if you think I'm pretty, lay your hands on me, know you can't stop thinkin' bout it ♪

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

summary- in which you order a pizza because you're a fatass and a certain boy just so happens to be your delivery boy.

       ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

A sigh slipped through your parted, glossy lips as you drummed your fingers against the surface of your soft fabricated couch, occasionally checking the location of your food as the delivery app said it would arrive by 7:30 however, it was now 7:46. 'Fucking fatass probably took my food and ran'.

Your incessantly rude thoughts came to a halt as the unmistakable reverberation of your doorbell filled your ears like the soft whisper of an angel and you felt truly blessed by whichever omnipotent force answered your prayers.

Hastily making your way through the hallway, you stopped quickly in front of a french-style mirror, a trend of decoration your mum had recently become obsessed with, and fixed your hair slightly - what if he was cute ?

Saying that, most delivery drivers you had the pleasure to encounter were middle aged men - and no, not the attractive kind either - more so the ones who shamelessly lodged their fingers up their nose and tried to peer through your windows while waiting for you to answer the door.

Opening your door, you were met with an unruly gust of  wind and pearlescent rays of light beaming through your doorway, and if you listened closely, a melodic choir of angels hummed gently while the benign breeze acted as the harmonies bass.

All of which, accompanied the heaven-sent boy ( in reality, the fast-food place-sent boy ) in front of you, and you let yourself bask in the bliss of  just merely blessing your sight with the beautiful boy standing on your doorstep.

The boy had a slightly off-centre delivery hat perched atop of his inky head of hair. Alluring, cobalt irises framed with fluttering raven lashes met yours in a soft stare, his plump lips expanding across his face in a brain-numbing smile that almost made you float - almost - though it was hard to keep yourself grounded.

Standing at 5'9 with a built frame, your delivery boy grinned. "A 10inch meat feast for {name}?" his voice so feather light it was dizzying as you manually nodded, becoming increasingly aware of the pink dusting your cheeks.

Your flustered state was acknowledged by him, and he let out a boyish chuckle that had the power to make anyone drop to their knees in an instant. 'Man fuck the pizza I want his meat feast fr'.