#I don’t know what grape smells like but I’m sure that one of them smells like grapes or apples and cinnamon and cherries

[welcome-to-green-hills]

Okay, but in all seriousness. Would a Chao be fluffy? Squishy like a marshmallow? Do they have a scent like scratch-and-sniff stickers?

I need answers!😭

[inkdrinkerworld]

Oh my god post-prison spencer and sunshine!reader is my new favorite 🥹

Can I request how spencer would react if something goes wrong in one of their cases and reader is held hostage/taken? I imagine she would be shaken ofc and spencer would comfort her after

canon level violence, reader has dislocated her shoulder and was concussed while also trying to fight off the feelings that are rapidly developing for spencer, and spencer doesn't give a fuck about her fighting their attraction

“Unlock the door, Y/n.” Spencer’s outside your door, he has been for the last couple of days. You’d been injured in the field, a concussion and a dislocated shoulder that had come from the unsub taking you during what would’ve been his take down. 

You’d been dispatched from the hospital last week after being less than attractive to the doctor who wanted to keep you there for longer. 

You’d answered texts and calls from your co-workers, but you’d been ignoring Spencer. 

“Go away Spencer, you’re supposed to be in Nebraska.” you were consulting on a case the team is currently on, so he can’t lie. 

He doesn’t try to, like you’d suspected, “I asked Emily to stay behind, you aren’t doing well.” 

You sigh on the other side of the door, relenting because you know that he won’t leave. 

“How can I help you?” You’re a little less than polite, but Spencer doesn’t seem to care. He knows what it’s like to be sidelined from the team due to injury and be upset about it. 

“Well first, you can let me in, I may look strong but these arms were not made to hold more than five bags at a time.” he’s as tender as he always is and it softens you. 

Stepping aside, you let Spencer in. Your apartment is clean, you’ve been surviving off delivery breakfasts and take out lunches, you can’t raise your hand high, so cooking is a no. 

You’re not worried about your attire, you’re in a green tank top with ’save the planet’ embroidered in cursive with a sick earth just beneath it, and a pair of cotton shorts that hit just above your knee- the heat in the city was driving you crazy and you also didn’t have the energy to try for more clothes- certainly not without upsetting your shoulder some more.

If Spencer is surprised by your outfit, he says nothing. You’re hardly surprised by his, a purple shirt tucked neatly into his dress pants and smart shoes; you’re not sure how he’s managed a perfect outfit in this heat.

Spencer sets the bags down and begins the task of taking out all the things inside- he pulls out packages of various nuts, passion fruit juices and a mountain of those clear, plastic bowls filled with fruit. 

“You didn’t have to buy pre-cut fruit; I know it’s more expensive that way.” You say to him, finding a bit of trouble pushing yourself into the chair you have at your kitchen island. 

Spencer sets down the plastic bags and moves around the countertop to help you, “I cut them myself, they didn’t have the ones you like in the grocery store.” 

You’re stunned silent, the bowls are full of watermelon, cantaloupes, orange quarters, mangoes, grapes and pineapple. All your favourites cut exactly the way you liked. Spencer must’ve spent around a hundred dollars just getting the fruit alone, maybe even more if the number of grapes is anything to go off of. 

“Spencer, you didn't have to.” He shrugs, his eyes searching your face. 

“How’s your head? Have you been feeling dizzy or having double vision?” It’s not easy to lie to Spencer, doubly so when he’s standing before you and staring at you so intensely. 

“The dizziness comes and goes, mostly when I’m in the shower.” You say honestly, and Spencer frowns. 

“You could’ve told me,” you blow a raspberry and pull the bowl full of mangoes towards you. 

“You would’ve made me go back to the hospital; I don’t like the smell of them.” you chew on a piece of mango while Spencer carries on assessing you. 

He notes that the mottling on your shoulder has gone down significantly, now it’s just purple and a little blue. Your eyes don’t appear unfocused, and Spencer is glad for it. “I wouldn’t have.”

“So, what’s your verdict, Doc?” you ask, shutting the lid on the mangoes before you burn through the entire container. 

“You’re not concussed, I think your dizziness in the shower is from you moving your shoulder too much and agitating it.” Spencer presses a light fingertip into the bruised skin and you hiss, batting his hand away making him laugh. 

You hum, “So what? I just never shower again? In the middle of this heatwave? I’d rather die.”  

“I forget how dramatic you can be.” Spencer shakes his head, “Or, you could’ve called me, or Penelope and either one of us could’ve given you a sponge bath.” 

You make your eyebrows dance, “You would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you Spence?” He rolls his eyes, tugging on the braid your hair is in. 

“How’d you do that?” he asks, helping you off the chair and leading you into your kitchen. 

Your face is red hot, “I bribed my neighbour’s kid to do it for pumpkin bread the minute my arm is out the sling.” 

Of course you did, you might be sunshine incarnate, but Spencer knows everyone has a spot they don’t want others to see- this is yours. You don’t want anyone in your team viewing you as incapable or in need when they should see you as capable and able to do every facet of your job. 

“I can help you make the bread tonight if you want something to do when the case is over.” 

You tilt your head, watching Spencer look around your cupboards for a glass. “Top left cabinet,” you say and he nods, smiling when he finds a glass covered in stickered ladybugs. 

Spencer fills it almost to the top with passion fruit juice and passes it to you. 

“Are you staying the night, Spencer Reid?” you take a sip and sigh in delight, it’s been a while since you’ve had passion fruit juice, you’re not entirely sure how Spencer knew it was your favourite. 

“If you let me, it isn’t good for you to be by yourself and the more you strain your shoulder, the longer it’ll take for you to get back in the field.”

An impish smile tugs at your lips, your eyes gleaming with a mischievousness Spencer hardly thought you possessed, “So what you’re saying is, you miss me desperately and will sacrifice your hatred of germs and touching other people just to ensure I’m back in Quantico at your earliest convenience?” 

A call from Penelope cuts through the fat of your question, making you laugh when Spencer rushes to answer it and slides you a mock glare that you know is just for show. 

“Yeah, Penelope, what have you got? Y/n and I are here,” well, there’s no escaping his presence now. You find you don’t mind it quite so much, your beginning aims of not falling for him is shredding more and more as the months go on.

[cheoliehansolie]

Pickup Lines

Summary: You and Soonyoung go out together, but he seems to forget one very important detail.

wc: 957

warnings: mention of alcohol, drunk shenanigans, and cringy pickup lines

an: As an apology for scrapping the Seungcheol fic, here's a cute, fluffy Soonyoung fic. As always, let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions for what you want me to write next, leave me an ask.

--

“Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?” asks the man who takes the seat next to you on the outdoor couch.

You’re at a little gathering at Jihoon’s apartment and you needed a break from karaoke so you excused yourself from the living room and came outside for some fresh air. Little did you know that someone was watching you and decided to follow you outside.

“Really, Soonyoung? That’s the best pickup line that you’ve got?” you ask the man next to you as you turn to face him.

You see the pink flush to his skin and you already know he’s a little tipsy. When he opens his mouth to respond, you can smell the alcohol on his breath and your suspicion is confirmed.

“You didn’t like that one? That’s fine, I have more. Feel my shirt. Do you know what it’s made of?” he asks, looking at you expectantly.

You give in and touch the shirt you got him for his birthday.

“Hmm, from the feeling of it I would have to say cotton.” you say.

“No silly, it’s made of boyfriend material!” he says as he laughs at his own pickup line.

You can’t help but laugh with him. 

“Okay, that one was good.” you acknowledge.

“If you thought that one was good, wait til you hear this next one: It’s a good thing I have my library card, because I’m totally checking you out.” he says as he giggles.

“Do you seriously have your library card with you?” you ask him while laughing.

“I never go anywhere without it.” Soonyoung says as he fishes it out of his wallet to show you.

“Is that so you can go to the library whenever you want, or so that you can pull it out when you use this pickup line on someone?”

“The reason I have it doesn’t matter, you asked if I have it and I said yes.”

“Fair point.”

Unfazed by your conversation, Soonyoung says “I think there’s something wrong with my phone. Your number’s not in it.”

“Soonyoung, you have my number. You literally texted me to invite me here.” you counter. “So, is there a reason you’re using all these pickup lines on me?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Do you like raisins?” he asks, content with answering your question with another question.

You give him a confused look but respond, “I thought you already know I don’t like them. I don’t see the point in dehydrating a grape. Grapes are perfectly fine the way they are.”

Ignoring your little tangent, Soonyoung asks “How do you feel about a date?”

You stare at him blankly and say, "Soonyoung, I don’t understand why you keep doing this. I thought we went over our relationship already.”

“We did, but I thought you might change your mind.” Soonyoung pouts.

You're struck with a sudden realization. He doesn't remember.

“Soonyoung, look at me.” you say as you lift his chin and ensure he’s making eye contact.

“What?” he says, his eyes a little hazy from the alcohol and his cheeks squished together like a fish.

It takes everything in you to not lean in and kiss his lips, but you need to make sure you get through to him first.

“Are you paying attention?” you ask him.

He nods in confirmation.

“You don’t need to use these pickup lines on me. We’ve been dating for the past two weeks, remember? You asked me out and we went to an arcade where you won me a tiger plushie?” you ask, hoping to jog his memory.

You see the gears turning in his head, and finally after a few seconds his eyes light up and he smiles so bright it could be blinding.

“Y/N!!!” he squeals. “You’re my girlfriend!” 

“Yeah, I am.” you say while you’re laughing at how adorable he is.

“We’ve been dating for two weeks!” he says as he leans in to pepper your face with kisses.

In your fit of giggles, you both don’t hear the glass door slide open. You only realize that the two of you aren’t alone when Jun clears his throat.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asks from the doorway.

“JUN! Did you know that y/n’s my girlfriend?” Soonyoung asks him excitedly.

“Yeah, you guys told us when we all got here tonight.” Jun says, giving you a ‘wtf is wrong with him’ look.

“You got Soonie so drunk that he literally forgot we were dating. He came out here and started hitting on me.” you explain to him.

“Hey, that’s not my fault, Jeonghan was the one filling everyone’s drink constantly. He also made Soonyoung take way too many shots.” Jun says defensively.

“Fair point. All roads lead back to Jeonghan.” you say.

“Junnnnn, what do you want? Why’re you here?” Soonyoung asks.

“Okay, I’m going to pretend I’m not hurt that you don’t want to see me right now.” Jun says, wiping a fake tear from his eyes. 

“Everyone was wondering where you two went. Seungkwan wanted to do a duet with you.” Jun explains to Soonyoung.

Soonyoung visibly perks at the idea of going back inside to the party and he says, “Let’s go, let’s go!” while he practically drags you back inside.

“Okay, I’m coming!” you exclaim, rushing to keep up with his longer strides.

“He’s gonna crash before the song ends, isn’t he?” Jun asks you as Soonyoung lets go of your hand and rushes into the living room to grab the other mic from Seokmin.

“Definitely.” you say.

 “You have your work cut out for you tonight.” Jun says as you fondly watch him bounce around while singing. 

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.” you say.

[bettysupremacy]

Rafe Cameron x innocent shy! Reader?? Please

Unintended but this is also kind of mean!rafe. Thank you for the request!! i feel like this could be better

When Rafe had come to the balcony of his own house for some peace at his own party, he hadn’t expecting company. Especially not you.

You look lost, in the most literal sense. Short dress and large jacket, he thinks you made a wrong turn and ended up here instead of the country clubs teen night. Sparkling grape juice and cookie platters, not Smirnoff and cocaine.

He’s sure he’s seen you before too, hanging around Sarah’s crowd. Under a pogues arm as they notice him around. Whatever, you’re not with them now, are you?

He bumps his nose twice before speaking up. “You look lost.”

It’s loud, and blunt, but it gets your attention. You startle.

“I’m sorry?”

He stands, taller than you expected, you step back. “I said, you look lost.”

You don’t know what to say to that. “I am.”

Nerves rumble in your tummy as he walks closer, any other words dying in your throat. You know Rafe. You know what people say about him. What your friends say. He’s no good.

“You’re not supposed to be out here.” He looks down on you. Your back touches the bumpy wall panels. “It’s off limits to guests.”

“I’m sorry.” Your hand searches for the door handle but the wall traps you in. “I didn’t know.”

“I can tell.” He eyes your cup, yellow and icy, it doesn’t look like anything he paid Kelce for. It smells sweet. “Is that lemonade?”

Out of his fridge?

“My friend poured it for me.”

“Boyfriend?” You shake your head and he hums, his breath visible in front of him. “Then who’re you with, sweetheart?”

“My friend.” You repeat. “She said we’d only be here a second.”

“And where is she now?”

You shrug. “Think her boyfriend got his hands on her.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You give him a slow, large, nod. Your hands stuff in your jacket. How did you get into this situation?

“You don’t have anybody getting their hands on you?” Your eyes snap forward. Watching him eye you is like watching a lion circle its prey.

“Am I being interrogated?” You put out weakly.

“I’m sorry.” His eyebrows pull forward, faux sincerity.

You have the feeling he isn’t. “It’s okay.”

“It is?” you nod. “Thank god.”

It gets you. His flirt. Traps you to him like a mouse to a glue pad, and he knows it. He feeds on it. You think he may kiss you when the patio door opens. It’s a shame, you weren’t opposed to the idea.

“Sarah,” Rafe displeases. “I told you to get the fuck out.”

This isn’t the first time Sarah has crashed one of his parties, but it’s the first time she’s come between him and a girl.

“Excuse me,” Her arms cross. “this is my house too.”

“And this is my party,” he stands a little straighter. “Don’t you have your little friends to go to?”

“You’ve taken her.”

He looks back to you, defeat crumpling in his chest. He didn’t want you to go. Leave it to Sarah.

“God, don’t tell me you’ve been harassing her.” Annoyance bubbles an amount only her brother can pull from her.

“I haven’t been harassing anyone.” Rafe gripes. “It’s not my fault you left her.”

“I did not leave her.”

“Oh really?” He scoffs. “So where were you? With Topper? Or have you traded him in already?”

“I’m not doing this with you.” Her eyes flit to you. “Cmon, Y/N, let’s get out of here.”

You push off the wall, tugging your dress down. Rafe wishes you hadn’t. He grabs your wrist before you’re too far, taking the solo cup from your hand and replacing it with his. “You’re gonna need something stronger to deal with her.”

“Haha, so funny, Rafe.”

He shrugs. “Can’t help it.”

[number1mingyustan]

-Cuffing Season-

Your Wants

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: established relationship, kissing, cursing, explicit smut, oral (f.), brief masturbation (m.), multiple orgasms, size kink, penetrative sex, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, pussy drunk gyu

Summary: He loves spoiling you

Word Count: 2.4k

_______________________________________________

“You look pretty,” Mingyu compliments as you walk through the front door.

You smile at him, going to place your shopping bags down on the floor. Mingyu however, is quicker than you and takes the large bags from your hands and carries them into the bedroom. “Thank you baby.”

He comes back into the kitchen and pulls you into him. He wraps his arms around your frame securely and it feels so good. His hugs always bring you comfort and you can get a good whiff of his scent. He always smells so good.

You hug him back, leaning into his embrace. It always feels nice to be greeted like this.

He pulls away, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “What’d you buy?”

“Mm! Dresses and shoes. I know you have some business dinners coming up soon and I wanted something new to wear. Got a new bag too, it just dropped yesterday.”

“Oh really?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah. But you know, the lady in the store was being such a bitch.” You say, walking over to the fridge and opening it. You grab a few grapes and pop one into your mouth.

Mingyu leans over the kitchen counter, resting his head on his hand as he listens to you. “How so?”

Damn he looks good.

He’s wearing his glasses today. You can tell he’s been working in his home office. He’s in nothing but a white wife beater and a pair of gray sweats. His biceps are on full display and his hair has grown a little longer, framing his face perfectly.

“Ugh, so I go into the store and I’m waking around looking and she’s just staring at me. Like the whole time the bitch is staring at me and then she starts following me around like I’m gonna steal something.”

“Seriously?”

You nod and pop another grape in your mouth. “So obviously she’s already pissing me off and you know me, so of course I say something to her.”

Mingyu chuckles and nods.

“So I turn around and I’m like ‘Is there a problem?’ And she pretends like she wasn’t following me around like a creep and tells me the most bullshit thing I’ve ever heard in my life. She was like ‘Nope, just making myself available in case you need anything.”

You pop another grape in your mouth.

“But I keep my cool and pick up everything I want, king you she’s still watching me but like from a little bit further away. So I finish all my shopping and go to the register to pay. Of course she wants to be the one to ring me up. And oh my gosh the fucking nerve of that bitch.”

“What did she do?” Mingyu asks.

“She rings everything up and then literally says to me ‘Are you sure you can afford this?’ Like who the hell does she think she is?”

Mingyu frowns. “She actually said that?”

“Yes! I was like, ‘I’m the one shopping here not the one working here.’ And I handed her to black card just to be a bitch about it.”

Mingyu snorts. “You used my black card?”

“Yes,” You pop the last grape into your mouth. “She was making me mad and I wanted to prove a point. It shut her up so fast too.”

Mingyu grins and walks around the counter. He wraps his large hands around you and pulls you in by your waist. “You know how much I love that about you.”

“What?” You look up at him.

“How you don’t take shit from anyone. You never let people push you around or treat you any kind of way. It’s so sexy.” He draws small circles along your sides.

“There’s no way I’d let her disrespect me like that. I would never just let her think I’m broke when I have you. Got me a man with a good job who makes good money and spoils me.” You look up at him and smile.

“Damn right,” He grins down at you.

Your hands are now holding onto his biceps.

“I see you got your hair and nails done too while you were out. Did you use the black card for that too?” He asks.

“No, I used your regular one. I didn’t need to use the black card, besides I didn’t know if it would make you mad since I already spent so much with it.”

He shrugs. “You know I love spoiling you anyway.” He licks his lips. “Did I tell you how good you look?”

You grin. “You did.”

“Hmm. Well you look really good baby.” He compliments.

Mingyu loved when you pampered yourself. He loved buying you things and spoiling you. At the beginning of your relationship you weren’t very receptive toward it. You preferred verbal and physical affection, not monetary.

However, you soon began to embrace and found a balance in your relationship. At first he loved taking you out to fancy dinners and spending more money than needed. He also began embracing your lifestyle, abiding to the fact that you preferred date nights like staying in and watching movies or going to the local food trucks in town that were cheap and much better than the overpriced dinners.

Now you embrace the gifts he gets you so long as date night is at his new favorite foodtruck that makes incredible wings.

You two could live a simple life and still dabble in the finer things.

He loved seeing you come home with having spent his money well. He liked knowing that he could provide for you and that you wouldn’t deny him unless he made a completely unreasonable purchase.

Mingyu worked so much and ensured his success. He loved his job, and admittedly the benefits too. With how much work he put in on a daily basis, he was sure as hell going to make sure you were taken care of.

He pulls you in closer by your waist. His tall stature stands above you, he looks down at you with pure affection in his irises.

“So pretty…” he mumbles. “Don’t wanna mess it up.”

“Mess what up?”

“Your hair. Wanna bend you over and pull on it but you just got it done,” He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Mingyu!”

“What? If I don’t fuck you from behind, then you’ll scratch up my back and you just got a fresh set. I’m weighing my options here baby.”

“Maybe your best option is not to fuck me,” You shrug.

“Yeah that’s not happening. You look too good right now for me not to.”

And without another word, he pulls you in with his big hands and kisses you. It’s intense and needy from the moment his lips touch yours.

It escalates quickly and before you know it, your back is pressed against the kitchen wall and your shirt is on the floor. His hands are moving up your skirt and he’s playing with the material of your panties.

His tongue is in your mouth and your body feels hot. He lifts you up with ease and carries you onto the counter without breaking the kiss. He’s so big and strong, feeling him scoop you up like it’s nothing makes your heart race faster.

He places you into the counter and spreads your legs in front of him. He takes off his glasses and places them on the counter next to you. He doesn’t give you time before he meets down and his head disappears under your skirt. He pushes your panties down to your ankle and attaches his lips onto your cunt.

“Shit…” You moan out.

His tongue laps your cunt deliciously. His tongue is warm and wet and it drives you crazy.

Mingyu is a giver. He gives and gives and never expects anything in return. Your happiness is his happiness.

He sucks on your clit, causing you to wrap your legs around his head tighter. He loved the feeling of it, being suffocating by your thighs.

It sends a rush straight to his cock. His hard length is poking up, straining against the material of his sweatpants as his tongue continues to pleasure you.

He’s moaning against your skin, sending vibrations through your body that only make you squirm above him. You’re gripping the edge of the counter tightly with your head tilted back.

“Ah-shit Gyu!” You moan loudly.

Your words only motivate him. He continues lapping your cunt with his tongue, relishing in your taste like a starved man.

As you feel your high approaching, you behind grinding against his face. He kneels there and takes it, flattening his tongue to stimulate your clit so you cum all over his face.

“Cumming-mmph!” You warn him.

Your orgasm hits and it hits hard. Your veins pop out as you hold onto the counter for deal life. You’re moving your hips against his face, wrapping your legs tighter around the circumference of his head.

It’s suffocating in the best way possible.

He doesn’t give you time to come down from your high at all. He refuses to let his mouth leave your cunt.

He’s slurping and lapping your pussy eagerly. He wants to taste you again. He can’t stop himself, he can’t help it. He just wants to give and give until you can’t handle it.

You let out a high-pitched whine and grip the counter harder. You try pulling away, but his hands are holding you down on the counter. His grips your thighs with his big hands, using his bulging muscles to stop you from running.

He’s merciless on your cunt, pleasuring you to the max. You’re writhing and crying out above him and he loves that he can pull this reaction out of you.

He could go down on you for hours on end, days even. As long as he can make you feel good, his heart is content.

It doesn’t take long before your second orgasm is building up and you’re really starting to lose it. Your thighs are tightening around his head and suffocating him again, serving as a tell that you’re about to cum again.

When you do, it’s more intense than the first ones You knuckles grow pale with how hard you grip the counter.

You’re completely soaking his face, crying out and moaning as he sends you back into a state of euphoria.

As you come down from your high, he slightly lifts his head and rises back to his feet. He stands back at his full stature, looking down at you with a smirk. He licks his lips and brushes his hair back.

“You good?” He asks.

You nod lazily. You look up at him with half-lidded eyes and breathe heavily.

He lifts you back up and helps you into your feet. You lethe are a bit shaky, but hold holds you up. You pay his arm softly letting him know he can let go. When he does, you stand up on your own and bend over the counter.

“Want you to fuck me Gyu.”

“Baby you just finished on my tongue twice. You don’t wanna take a break?”

“Are you really going to deny me what I want?” You look back at him with a pout. “Thought you liked spoiling me.”

“Of course I do baby,” He steps closer to you, hard cock now poking against your ass. You’re no longer facing him, but his head is in the curve of your neck. He whispers against your ear and leaves soft kisses on your neck. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

He holds you by the waist and unties the strings of his sweatpants. He lets out a breath of relief when he finally releases his aching cock from his sweats.

He throws his head back, letting out a quiet moan as he strikes himself behind you. His dock feels heavy in his hand and he can’t wait to be inside of you.

You feel the tip teasing your entrance as he holds you steady by the waist. You both moan out in unison as he enters you.

The stretch of his cock feels so good. You slump over the counter completely, lifting your ass up more to feel him.

“Feels so good…” He groans as he fills you up.

All you can do is nod weakly as you accommodate to the stretch of his length. Once he fills you up completely, he draws his hips back and starts thrusting into you.

His nails dig into your sides as he holds you steady. He knows he’ll pull on your hair and mess it up his he doesn’t hold onto you this way.

“Fuck” You moan out.

“Pussy so good..” he mumbles. “Fuck… I’d do anything.”

He watches the way your ass jiggled every time he thrusts into you. He’s mesmerized, eyes watching hungrily.

Your body jerks forward, pressing into the hard marble counter each time he bottoms out. You’re already starting to feel overstimulated and he’s hitting it just right.

His hand snakes between your thighs and his thumb begins circling your already sensitive clit. You hiss at the sudden contact

The stretch of his cock feels so good, his tip brushing against the one spot deep inside of you that drives you crazy.

You’re now gripping the other side of the counter to ground yourself. The larger man is fucking you with full force, just the way you like it.

“Cumming!” You warn him before you fall apart for the third time.

Your legs grow weak and wobbly as your orgasm courses through your body. He continues to fuck you through it thoroughly before his own orgasm hits.

When it does, he tightens his grip on your hips, pumping his seems inside of you and filling you up. You both stand in the kitchen breathless and sweaty.

“Damn it,” you groan.

You turn around, showing him your chipped nail. “I was gripping the counter too hard.”

He licks his lips and runs his fingers along yours. “Sweated out your hair a bit too.”

He pulls his sweatpants back up and digs into his pocket. He pulls out his wallet and hands you 3 hundred dollar bills with a wink.

“Go get yourself fixed up okay baby? And don’t worry, it’s on me.”

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[lyculuscaelus]

A Delicate Copy

(AU; a pretty old one-shot, finally got the time to upload it on tumblr)

Nobody greeted him “morning” this time.

He woke up on an unfamiliar beach. The sand felt different—coarser than the one he used to sit on in those last seven years. The air smelled misty, unlike the clear sky that used to embrace most parts of the island with her warm arms, a cycle lasting for seven years. He saw the trees growing in bloom, but they did not remind him of his homeland—for he didn’t find that forest anywhere, nor did he see his beloved Mount Neriton. There were only mists, mists that used to arise from the wine-dark sea, mists that used to hide the face of death where gods were lurking, mists that used to give way to the warmth of a cave, in the past seven years.

And that was when he finally realized he was lost. Again.

The tired mariner crumbled on the beach, and sobbed.

He didn’t check what his tears were made of, for he knew there was nothing but pain in them. Pain as found in the glimmering reflection, pain as found in himself. Twenty years of pain condensed into one single teardrop, and he held up his hands to wipe it from his face.

But he sobbed still.

He did not see the herd of sheep coming. He did not see the young man cloaked in a kingly air walking. He sobbed until he felt himself melting, and that was when he stopped, for his sorrow had brought him burning rage. Rage for an unjust promise.

“Where did the Phaeacians send me? What country have I come to this time?” he roared, clenching his fists. “Why did they leave me here—with all this treasure I cannot protect? Have those Phaeacians not promised me to send me home—to my homeland where I came into being? And now what foreign land is this? Those idiots…they did me wrong indeed. May Zeus, god of suppliants, grant them a punishment that is only too proper for them…but for now, let me just count these gifts, in case some of them happen to be missing.”

And so he counted. The tripods seemed untampered, and the cauldrons looked fine. Gold and silver, and all this splendid clothing—surprisingly, he found nothing missing. Then he rose to his feet, and again he wandered, on this unfamiliar beach, with a heart much-enduring he let out another wail of sorrow, another stream of tears.

And then, the young man came forward. A cloak across his shoulders, A spear in his hand—the tip seemed somewhat strange—the young shepherd stopped, and regarded him curiously.

“Friend,” he addressed the young shepherd quickly, wiping out his tears when his eyes were not coping. “You’re the first one I see here. Will you promise me no harm, if I greet you with open arms? For I’m entreating you, like I would a god, to save me, protect my goods, and keep me in good company. I’m begging you, as a friend on his knee. Now please tell me everything, so I can understand—what country have I come to? What people have I met? Is this a sunny isle, or a headland of the mainland reaching out to sea?”

“Stranger—are you a fool? Wait no, I don’t think you are, so you must be a traveler from a distant land,” the young man answered him, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “But I’m sure men from different places have all heard of this island—because of its fertility? Maybe. But it’s a rugged place not fit for herding horses. You can find crops and grapes here, though, but it’s not like they’re uncommon. So I suppose it’s because of its heroes—stranger, do you happen to know the great Argonaut Laërtes, or Odysseus the sacker of cities? This is where they come from—such a place well-known, for I’m sure even lands far as Troy would still recognize the name ‘Ithaca’.”

He twisted his head, searching for memories. Ithaca—a name he had whispered so many times, to the goddess waiting in her cave, to the king sitting on the Phaeacian throne, in the songs he had sung in his pleading. He felt his lips lifting as joy swarmed up in his chest, but something about this place seemed strange…it still felt foreign to him, for some reason.

So he answered carefully. “Ithaca—a famous name indeed. I’ve heard of it even in wide Crete, somewhere far across the sea. Ah, so I’m finally here in person, with all these goods of mine. But there is more that I left when I fled from my city, when a dear son of Idomeneus fell to my own hands, for that swift-footed Orsilochus wished to take away the spoils I had won at Troy, for which I had suffered so much already—in the devastating war and on the dangerous sea. We struck him when he was heading home—me and my companions, with my bronze-tipped spear I ended him. But then I ran off to a ship, paying some Phoenicians to get me to other lands—I’d hoped they would take me to either Pylos or Elis, but the winds did not heed our command. And then here I was, worn out by exhaustion, laid low by sleep. But when I woke up, I found them all gone—and now it’s just me, alone with all my goods, here on this foreign land, seeking help.”

The young man smiled, and replied with a hand reaching out to his left shoulder. “Surely, Odysseus, one’s cunningness must be so wily if he is to outwit you—even for a god.”

He felt a jerk in his heart. How would a young shepherd like him see through his disguise?

“Yes, I know who you are—that pair of eyes I have indeed seen and heard of,” the young man continued gleefully. “But come now, Odysseus, do you really think there will be a celebration party waiting for you here? No, you will find troubles in your home, and I fear even you cannot defeat them this time.”

“What trouble are we speaking of?” Odysseus asked tentatively. “Then again, something feels wrong about this place already. If it is indeed Ithaca you’re speaking of, I don’t find any evidence—”

“You’re always thinking like that, aren’t you?” the young shepherd giggled. “No wonder people call you polymetis. Anyone else would’ve rushed to meet his wife and children—but not Odysseus. No, he’d test everything with trickery first, then he’d observe his wife himself, seeing if she’s still the Penelope he knew of—the answer is yes, even if you’d like to see for yourself. She still remains your wife—though not for long. At this very moment there are one hundred and eight suitors reveling in your house, spending your wealth as they wait for your wife to reconsider her marriage—a proposal she’s been denying for three years straight.”

He felt delighted, somehow, knowing that Penelope remained his own, even when he didn’t belong to Penelope alone anymore. For days he had been wondering if Penelope would find comfort in the fact that she didn’t have to wait for him any longer, and now…he could finally find out for himself.

“As for this place,” the young shepherd continued, pointing to the west. “I bet you can’t recognize it because of all this fog—it’ll probably disperse any moment soon—see? Now it’s gone.”

And then Odysseus saw it—Mount Neriton, where the forest was verdant; Phorcys’s anchorage, with an olive tree standing at the harbor head; the Naiads’ cave beside it—where one would make sacrifices to the nymphs to grant their wishes. And as Odysseus beheld everything, he fell to his knees, kissing the fertile ground with great passion, and held out his hands towards the nymphs with an utterance of prayer. The young man watched him with interest. But when Odysseus finished his prayer, the young shepherd replied. “Now let’s not delay but put these goods in some hidden corner of this sacred cave. Then I’ll tell you all the details about the troubles in your house before you go.”

And they brought them all into the cave—the shining bronze and gold, the fine clothes and all other gifts—and then they worked together to move a rock in place to block the entrance. When they had finished their work, the young shepherd was the first to speak. “Now, Odysseus, you can begin to plan for the suitors’ demise. That is a task I cannot assist you—but know that you can always trust your swineherd and your own son. So, stop by his house before you head for the palace. You can learn about everything that transpires in your house there.”

Then the shepherd gestured to him to go.

And Odysseus nodded with gratitude, then walked away. He didn’t notice how the young shepherd stared at his back, how a smirk revealed itself on his lips, how he slowly walked up, a spear in his hand, and all of a sudden—

Odysseus found himself falling to his knees, his back bleeding. 

And then the pain suddenly struck.

He knelt down to the ground, gasping in surprise and anguish. He barely caught a glimpse of the young man pacing beside him, as the shepherd finally spoke. “Well done, Odysseus, you have left your back open.”

“Why…why are you doing this?” Odysseus growled, his voice failing. “Who…are you?”

“A son you never had,” the young man smiled ominously. 

“Te…Tele…?”

“No,” the young man cut him off, looking away in disgust. “No, you’re the farthest thing I have to a father.”

“But…but why?”

“Touch your wound, and you’ll find your answer.”

So he stretched out his right hand with effort, and found the wound he did. Strangely, he did not see any red stained on his fingers—for there was no blood at all. Instead, a drop of water dripped from the tip of the finger, falling towards the sands. “What is…happening to me?” he hissed.

The young shepherd pointed at him with the spear, letting slip his words with wings. “I see you’re a good lier…but not as good as him. I know what you are at first sight—a shadow, a counterfeit, a phantom made of cloud—”

“What?” he exclaimed, his eyes wide open.

“Yes, you’re no Odysseus of Ithaca…” the young shepherd crouched down, lowering his face of mockery. “You’re nothing but a mere eidolon—of the man who is supposed to be here. I see you’re sharing his memories, his wits—but the thing is, you lack his spirit. The heart of a man is built upon hardships he endured, not hardships he remembered. For him, it’s been nineteen years since he had seen his home; but for you, it’s been twenty-seven days only.”

“How could you possibly know?” he snarled, ignoring his pain. “Who are you to judge my memory? The things I recall—the things I feel—They’re so real to me. I can smell the scent of gore as faces of men were smashed against the walls in that Cyclops’s cave, see the rays of Helios diminish as we entered the realm of Hades, hear the war-cries as we clashed with the Trojans…I have felt the pain of losses. I have known fear. I have suffered and sailed through the toughest of hells…and now you’re telling me that all these memories are nothing but fancy?”

“First of all,” the young man rose to his full height. A cloud of gold suddenly enshrouded the shepherd. The next thing he saw, the one standing before him had become a tall woman, armed with a panoply, her spear blazing. Upon her helmet, the red crest seemed as if drenched in blood. On the face of her shield, the head of a Gorgon stood out menacingly.

“…Athena?”

“I am to judge as I say so.” the woman allowed a smirk on her lips. “Second, no, these memories aren’t your fancy—they’re just not yours to begin with. Third, you are far from the man you’re trying to impersonate. For that reason, I have no use for you to clean up the mess here in Ithaca. Now, look at my eyes and tell me—where is Odysseus?”

He gasped, and raised his head painfully. His strength was failing him. “But I am…Odysseus.”

“Don’t keep fooling yourself. What you bear with you is not yours, and I cannot let you take what he has from him—his form, his memories, his sufferings…and his wife, his son, his family. I cannot allow you to have your ‘revenge’ while the real Odysseus suffers still,” the goddess glared at him, her eyes gleaming with rage. “I’ll ask you again—where is he?”

The pain was working its way through his veins as he once again crumbled, this time breathing rapidly as he felt his life slipping away. He had never felt the brink of death so close to him…but then, what remedy could he possibly find to appease the rage of a goddess?

Goddess…

“I don’t know…I’m sorry…” the words sounded softer than a whisper. He knew that death had finally found him—a sacker of cities, a man of twists and turns…

…a shadow of this man, at least—

—he accepted his death like accepting his identity.

He did not see the fluttering waves, forming a near-smirk on the face of the sea.

He did not see the goddess of wisdom plunging her spear into the sands, calculating new wiles for her scheme.

He did not see the wife of Odysseus weeping by her loom, wherein a shroud had been woven, her time run out finally.

For at that moment, he had drawn his final breath already.

All of a sudden, the fallen body melted into a rising cloud, erasing any trace of recognition. A gist of steam rose up silently, taking away one last sign of its existence. Staring at the emptiness where a phantom of Odysseus had once laid, Athena already knew her answer.

“Calypso.”

…………………………………………………………………………………

(TW: implied SA)

He beheld the daylight blankly, trying to blink away the memories of the last five days. Or the last few years—the number had already lost its meaning here.

But he’d never thought the goddess would be cruel enough to lock him up in the cave for five days straight. Five days without sunlight, five days without fresh air, five days without mourning by the sea, whispering hopes of his homecoming.

The door was only opened when he was in need of food…or when the goddess was in need of him. 

Why don’t you just close the door forever, and trap myself in? Why don’t you just leave me here dying of hunger, or simply suffocating?

Is it really necessary to open the door again?

Odysseus shook his head, continuing his walk towards the shore. He didn’t turn to see if the goddess was following behind—he couldn’t care anymore. It wasn’t even the goddess herself who freed him—he just woke up finding the door open, and took his chance. And now he had finally come out, no goddess in sight.

I’d rather die than let you take possession of me. It’s a thought he had whispered on the first night, when he was asked into her cave. When he was forced into her cave. Only now had he realized, he had been so simple, so naïve. 

He did not die, but he had been her possession ever since.

Sometimes he would just hope that the goddess would be merciful enough to simply let him die an Ajax’s death. Sometimes he would think about casting himself into the neighing sea, wishing for an end to all this misery. But he would always restrain himself whenever he thought of Penelope. He just couldn’t leave her waiting forever.

“But you already did,” sometimes he could hear the goddess’s voice answering. “You failed your comrades already. What makes you think you won’t fail your family?”

Is that really her voice? Or is it just an illusion? He could no longer tell the difference. Reality had become the nightmare he woke up to, and he couldn’t find solace in his dreams either.

It’s as if I’m dead inside…

But deep down, he knew he was dead already. Dead to the mortal world he knew of, dead to the people he loved and cared for. If anything, at least he was not physically dead yet.

But after five days of that kind of treatment…he only hoped to be long dead before then.

What are those five days for?

He had no answer. Although…some trees did appear to be missing. He’d always notice it whenever there was a tree missing. It was like an instinct, something he had trained himself when he used to garden with his father. But that memory had seemed so distant as Ithaca itself—so hard to access now. 

He had just reached the shoreline when he noticed a spot on the sea. 

Is that…a raft?

A raft in full sail, steered by a person with an oar, three large sacks beside them…

But then he saw the goddess, waving at the person on board, a pleasant smile on her face, as the raft slowly sailed away. The person on board—a man, as he saw that now, his face seemed rather familiar. It was as if…

Wait.

Is that…me?

Odysseus almost called, and stopped himself in fear of the goddess. That man didn’t seem to notice him, but instead turned towards the brightening horizon, a brave new journey ahead…

What on top of Mount Neriton is going on here?

But then he found the goddess approaching. The smile on her face had somehow turned malicious, and Odysseus wasn’t sure if he’d want to find out why. The goddess walked up to him, and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Now that he’s gone,” the goddess looked beyond the wine-dark sea, beyond the lands and islands that had composed his wanderings, then whispered gently to his ears. “It’s like I promised, Odysseus of Ogygia: we shall have our eternity.”

[cleolinda]

My nephew reviews perfume

I'm not sure how my sister heard about Noteworthy Scents, but the concept is, you take a quiz, and they'll send you four Scientifically Chosen samples ($25 USD) based on your answers.

Noteworthy is a new, exciting way to discover your signature scent. Rather than relying on flashy celebrity branding or overblown marketing promises, we want our customers to be in control of deciding which Noteworthy fragrance is right for them. We’re excited that you’re joining us on this journey - we can’t wait to help you find your signature scent.

I have looked at all the fragrances on offer, and I can tell you, they don't happen to have the notes I would want in my One Perfume to Rule Them All (if there's no peach or ylang ylang, I’m not forsaking the rest of my collection). But more to the point, I don't want just one. I've been writing up the things I've been trying for a few months now, and I enjoy the experimenting. But I appreciate what Noteworthy's trying to do, especially for wearers who want something straightforward, and I was perfectly happy to let my sister be the one to try them.

(I did take the quiz, though, and after telling them I don’t like aquatic scents, they said they would send me one that smells like the beach. I closed the tab. My sister told the quiz that she does not like florals and she does not like amber. You’ll never guess what happened next!)

So her Discovery Kit arrived yesterday. She announced this by texting me,

I’m gonna give you feedback from [Nephew] smelling the perfume

Me: Yeah?

As you may recall from one of my music posts, my nephew is six.

(My sister gave me permission to post this.)

n,841

Lemon, tarragon, cedar wood. A powerful, understated blend of citrus and woods. Drawing from poetry’s ability to spark joy and inspiration, this bright lemon and bergamot blend leaves an instant impression before mellowing out into a rich amber and leather base.

My sister: [Nephew] said

smells like raspberries or being in a dungeon like down in a well

Me: ……..I do not see any of those things on the card

n,551

Lily of the valley, amber, sandalwood. A sensual, comforting, woody scent that cocoons the wearer in notes of warm, glowing sandalwood and cozy, soft cashmere—freshened up with Lily of the Valley.

smells like lime juice or being inside a pumpkin

n,307

Mandarin, basil, sandalwood. Inspired by nostalgic childhood trips to lemon groves, fresh flowers swirling together in the summer breeze, and the radiant colors of perfectly ripe citrus, this energizing fragrance stars juicy mandarin and soft sandalwood, plus light notes of basil.

green grape juice or being on top of an umbrella at the beach

Me: that’s very specific

n,057

Passionfruit, vanilla, tonka bean. Let n,057 become your signature: remarkable, evocative and distinctly yours. Keep your fragrance at home or take our travel spray with you. Fitting snugly in your purse, pocket, or suitcase, it's the perfect on-the-go perfume.

My sister: I think he’s losing his focus on this last one. He said

lemon juice at the lemon store

My perfume sample budget got used up on, like, ugh, actual necessities this month, or I'd give Noteworthy a try for science. On a second try, my quiz results were (very likely overlapping with my sister's):

A captivating blend of warm woods and zesty citrus, like strolling through a sun-drenched forest grove. An intriguing fusion of exotic spices and earthy notes, evoking the vibrant energy of a bustling cityscape. A delightful combination of tropical fruits and delicate florals, reminiscent of a refreshing breeze in a lush garden. And for an unexpected wild card fragrance, a scent that defies expectations because science cannot always predict desire.

Currently, my sister says that she can tell that the Noteworthy fragrances are well-made, but they're not "her"; apparently she's in the 11% algorithm failure group—or maybe she just needs time for them to grow on her! Who knows! She'll bring over her samples for Sunday dinner, and I'll report back if they do, in fact, smell like being inside a pumpkin.

Perfume discussion masterpost

[ynbabe]

TASM!Peter x Male reader- incorrect quotes

Cause that boy was fruity as FUCK and we were ROBBED! ROBBED I SAY-

Y/n: We’ll get back into there or die trying. Peter, trying to Spidey: No one’s dying. Y/n, a civilian, just trying to help: Not with that attitude.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Peter: Y/n likes to win. When he were 8, a little Club Scout friend of his bragged they could sell the most cookies. Peter: Damned if Y/n didn't walk the neighborhood till he got blisters on his feet, and won by 10 boxes. Y/n: Best part is, I wasn't even a Club Scout.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Harry, after someone insulted Peter: Murder literally doesn’t hurt anyone! Peter: What are you talking about? Of course— Y/n, holding out a hand to shut Peter up: No, no, he has a point—

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Gwen: But what about Y/n? Harry: Don't worry about him. Harry: I once watched him fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating his hotdog like nothing happened. Peter: Well, you were the one who pushed him.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Harry, professional instigator: Hi could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire? Y/n, professional fool: Microwave for 40 minutes. Gwen, professional ‘my boys are stupid’ boys haver: WHY WERE YOU MICROWAVING A LEMON?! Y/n: I read boiling lemons helps cover up bad smells and I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges, but I didn’t own any pots… Peter, currently microwaving a grape: Did you burn an orange too? HOW?! Y/n: Microwave for 40 minutes.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Peter: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions. Harry: Ridiculous. Give me some examples. Gwen: Wasps? Y/n: Terriers? Peter: Y/n.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Gwen, watching Peter and Harry fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they get hurt? Y/n, not bothered by the chaos: It’s fine. They’re too evenly matched to hurt each other. Gwen: Then... who’s the strongest out of you three? Peter, with superhuman powers but a Y/n lover: Y/n. Harry,  doesn’t want Peter to kill him: Y/n. Y/n, delusional and gay: Me.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Harry: Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, and wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. Peter: That's deep. Y/n: That means that ketchup is a smoothie. Peter: That's deeper. Gwen: ...You guys are idiots

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━.

Peter: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute. Gwen: No, that's not how you make cookies. Harry: FLOOR IT!! Peter: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?!? Gwen: yOU'RE GONNA BURN THE HOUSE DOWN- Peter: I'M GONNA HARNESS THE POWER OF THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES! Y/n: DO IT! Gwen: NO-

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Gwen: Blue M&Ms are the best. Y/n: whAT IS THIS SLANDER? Gwen: What about it? They are. Y/n: I WILL NOT ALLOW SUCH LIES ON MY CHRISTIAN MINECRAFT SERVER! Y/n: THE RED ONES ARE THE BEST! Gwen: YEAH? WELL YOUR MOM'S A HO! Peter, trying to stop them: They're all chocolate inside, the colors don't mean anything. Harry, to stop peter from stopping them: I like the yellow ones. Gwen and Y/n: SHUT THE FUCK YOUR MOUTH!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Peter: Why do you act like we’re three year olds? Gwen, exasperated: WHY?!? Gwen points at Y/n: YOU HIJACKED A COP CAR! Gwen points at Harry: YOU NEARLY TRIED TO KILL PETER! Gwen points at Peter: AND YOU THREW YOURSELF INTO A STORM MADE OF LIVING ELECTRICITY! Gwen: AND YOU ASK ME WHY????

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Gwen, in a room with Peter, Harry, and Y/n: It’s calm in here. Gwen: It scares me…

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Harry: *is hugging Peter* Y/n: Hey! It's my turn to hug Peter! Y/n: *grabs Peter* Harry: *pulling Y/n off Peter* What do you mean, "yOuR tUrN"? We agreed now is my time slot! Y/n: No, It's my turn! Peter: *suffocating* Guys, I love you, but just because you guys tried to kill me doesn't mean you can be hugging me to apologise constantly! Y/n: But we need the moral support! Harry: And you're small! Which is cute! Y/n: If we don't hug you right now I think our guilt will kick in and our bodies will stop functioning. Peter: *close to tears* Well- I, I guess.

[taelme]

close your eyes, and i’ll kiss you

pairing: johnny x reader

genre: established rs au, implied friends-to-lovers, (fluff, very lowkey suggestive?) just a couple in love ig

word count: 1.8k (quick breezy read)

summary: in which johnny just wants to kiss you

a/n: got into my johnny hours while watching stranger things so I banged this out in the afternoon. Not proof read so enjoy~

“Need a break before the next episode, baby?” you felt your head lift from where it rested on your boyfriend’s chest as he stretched his arms above his head with a grunt. Letting yourself sink deeper into his hold, you snuggled your head against his shoulder, shaking your head against the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

“Hmm?” Johnny hummed at your lack of a reply, picking up the remote to press the button for the next episode before it could automatically load.

“No, I’m okay. You?” you murmured, words slightly muffled from how your cheek pressed against him, feeling his free hand come to rest on your back, the weight of it grounding you as he rubbed between and over your shoulder blades in a slow, soothing manner.

“Nah, I’m good, too. Kinda feel like a snack but I don’t know if that’s just ‘cause my mouth is like… itchy. Not literally but like, itching to do something, you know?” he huffed, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Isn’t it always?”

This time, Johnny could only laugh. It was different from if you guys were out at a party, or with friends. Those times, you saw how the energy of the room would affect him, spur him on to joke around and be loud and playful. In times like these, when the both of you were awake when everything else seemed to be asleep, you saw the same playfulness in him, definitely. It was just more mellow, more gentle; much like the way he simply let his hand travel down to give your butt a pat now.

“Well, my baby sure knows me well, doesn’t she?” he cooed, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead.

Feeling too shy to respond with words, you let out a content hum when you felt his hand move back up to your back, sighing as you let your eyes close just a little longer this time with your blink.

Truth be told, you were tired from a whole day out with your parents, helping them with things in their house that you supposed they always reserved for when you would come home - things like mail, finances and figuring out what on earth the doctor prescribed to them.

You were feeling a little headache come on and looking at Johnny’s tv screen in his living room wasn’t exactly helping. It wasn’t his fault, really. He’d been recommending this tv series to you for a while now, endlessly telling you how much he thought you’d like it, and the holidays opened up time for you to finally watch it (with him being more than happy to re-watch it with you, insisting he wanted to see your reactions to it). He was right, you did enjoy the show, but nights like the one you were having now were practically begging you to simply give in to your fatigue.

You were halfway through the episode when you let out a sigh, “I’m gonna close my eyes but I’m still listening, okay?”

Johnny hummed, amused as a scene of two characters kissing had come on just then, “You sure you wanna just listen to this?” He laughed, sounds of the kisses and the rock song playing in the background suddenly echoing louder than ever through the room now that you had your eyes closed.

It seemed then that Johnny had come across a brilliant idea, one that would satisfy both your needs.

He started by letting out a loud sigh, one that echoed through his chest where your ear was pressed against now. Craning his neck just enough to see your eyes still closed, hand against his chest and your fingers lightly drumming along to the rock song playing.

Your time knowing Johnny meant that even now, you could feel his gaze on you with your eyes closed, the light tickle of his hair against your forehead as he leaned closer. The woody smell of his perfume mixed with his breath that still had hints of beer and the grape sweets he'd been stealing from your bag that was conveniently placed next to the sofa.

Leaning back with another sigh (you'd caught on that he was leading to something by now), Johnny's hand came up to the side of your head, thumb caressing the skin of your temple and cheek again in that gentle, mellow manner, with yet a tinge of playfulness you were waiting for.

“Teenagers,” he sighed wistfully, “we were like that once, weren’t we?”

That tempted you just enough to open your eyes, face heating up at the sight of the scene and how much it really did remind you of you and Johnny back in high school and college. You could almost picture yourselves back on your old couch in your senior year, not seeming to be able to get enough of kissing each other that you had to practically shove yourself off of him at the sound of your parents’ car pulling up the driveway, pretending the both of you were just taking a break from studying.

“You’re still the same, you know,” you rolled your eyes, and you knew you were right when you felt him shift underneath you, rolling over just enough so that your head was on the couch now and he was lying next to you, propped up with his elbow near your head.

“Can’t help it, baby,” his smile grew, leaning in as your eyes closed naturally, only to feel his kiss on your cheek instead, “you’re just as hot.”

You scoffed, eyes still closed as your hand came up to find his head, resting comfortably on the back of his neck.

“‘Hot’? Very romantic of you, Johnny,” you teased, feeling him smile against your neck before you felt another kiss pressed there.

"Uh-huh," your smile grew at the ticklish feeling of him murmuring against your skin, as if mapping out his path as they went up your neck, “and I’m romantic enough to say it again.”

"You’re hot," he spoke. Another kiss to your jaw.

"Beautiful." Beneath your earlobe.

"Gorgeous." To your cheek.

This time, he pulled back just enough that you couldn't help but let your eyes open, wanting to see him. You didn't regret it, feeling like a giddy teenager when you saw the way he was looking at you, the slightest of smiles on his face.

"Sexy," he let his tongue peek out to wet his lips, leaning over to press them against yours, feeling almost reluctant for them to pull apart. The unabashed way with which he said these words was enough to make you shy, relishing in the praise but also feeling like you had to shush him out of embarrassment.

"Irresistible?" the way his tone lilted up made you scoff.

"Is that a question?" you laughed, earning a grunt from him.

"Too many words, too little kissing," he shook his head with a little wince, before leaning over and connecting his lips with yours again.

There was the same mellowness and gentleness you felt in his hand that grasped your hip, moving down to your thigh and holding you like that, his thumb rubbing against your warm skin.

Johnny's movements were far from the hurried, urgent kisses you recalled just moments ago from high school. But they had all the same intention to render you giddy just as they did back then. His hand moved up to your shoulder, grazing over your collarbones to your neck as they reached up further to cup your face, the warmth of his hand making you lean into him. As if that was his cue to deepen the kiss, he did, the tv series now long forgotten in the background as you let your hand come up to cup his face.

You weren't complaining at all, and you didn't think you ever would. The thought was enough to make you giggle- the way you were still managing to spend time with him, feel so close to him and not have to strain your eyes.

"What's so funny?" Johnny asked, the feeling of his tongue and his lips as he kissed you after almost making you miss his question.

"No, nothing," you hummed, managing to say between kisses (that was funny to you too, how he asked you a question but barely gave you a chance to answer with his insistent kisses).

“Tell me, baby,” he continued, and if he continued kissing you like that you were sure you wouldn’t be left with any words.

Pulling away just enough that you could grasp his face in your hands, your hands took the liberty of touching his face, as if giving you a visual with your eyes closed.

"I just thought it was funny how," you let the pad of your thumb touch his bottom lip, running it gently across it, almost melting at the way you could feel him suck in a small gasp.

"How this kind of solves both our problems. I didn't wanna open my eyes, and your mouth was itching to do something."

Johnny smiled, his index and middle finger moving your hair out of your face, letting his head hang forward so his lips were close to your ear, humming in agreement as he shifted himself, one of his legs going between yours to support himself better.

You opened your eyes, leaning forward to press another chaste kiss to his lips, almost laughing at the way he chased after your lips as you pulled away.

"I think I'm ready to get back to the episode, though."

You turned to give the tv a glance, beginning to reach over for the remote lying next to your stomach. Though there was no missing the way he kept his gaze fixed on you, his expression serious and definitely unwavering.

“Nope, sorry, no can do,” he spoke, his hand that was touching your hair moving to touch your chin, guiding your head back to face him, “I’m not ready yet.”

You shot him a look, your other hand still cupping his face, the soft skin of his cheek, feeling his strong cheekbones in a way high-school you never would’ve been able to, not with the baby face he had.

You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, feeling him put more of his weight on you. His strength showed in the way he kissed this time, deep and with an insistence that made you feel like he was trying to render you even more than just giddy.

“Something tells me,” you spoke between kisses, “you’re not gonna be ready anytime soon.” Your fingers ran through his hair, he’s due for a haircut soon.

Johnny pulled away slightly to huff, his arms next to your head almost caging you in as he held himself up. From the way he was smiling at you, you could almost hear him say it, the flashback of how he cooed that his baby knows him so well.

Here it was again, on a midnight like this, his mellow, gentle yet playful side as he let his teeth graze your lower lip slowly, just enough to make you gasp.

“Well, lucky for us, we have the whole night to find out.”

[arendaes]

8 for the micro story!

Thank you Spyri! We're going post-game and focusing on someone besides the Throuple for this one!

8. Sunbathing (Aron/Sosiel, 493 words)

A spring breeze blew through the vineyard, rustling the grape vines. It would be several months before they were ready to harvest, but Aron liked to think he could already smell their rich bouquets as he closed his eyes and soaked in the moment.

If you’d told him just a few years ago that one day he’d be here, sunbathing in the grass of his very own vineyard, he wouldn't have believed you. He used to believe people like him didn't deserve such things, homes and jobs and people who loved him unconditionally. Time, faith, and a pair of gentle hands had taught him that was very much not the case.

Speaking of gentle hands…Aron opened his eyes at the sound of a door closing nearby. Sure enough, the only person who could've made this moment even more perfect was walking out of it, a soft smile lighting up his face.

“How’d it go with Yumillian?” Aron asked, sliding over so his husband could sit beside him.

“About the same as usual,” Sosiel said, giving a wry look to the bottle in his hands as he sat. “This one was supposedly made with the help of a transmutation spell. I am…very afraid of what the effects might be.”

Aron gave the bottle a considering glance, then said, “The Arendaes’ anniversary is coming up. How about we pawn it off on them?”

Sosiel laughed. “I do believe Ariadne is catching onto my tricks! But still, she does seem to like these abominations.” He gave one more glance to the label then set it aside.

They were silent for a moment before Aron asked, in a much quieter voice, “And Trever?”

“He’s doing better, but…” Sosiel wouldn’t meet his eyes, looking instead out at the rows and rows of vines that made up their property. “I think maybe we should see about bringing him here. I don’t think being alone is good for him.”

“Ah, so we’ll put him to work for us instead? I’m kidding!” Aron threw his hands up in mock surrender, though Sosiel’s annoyance was mild at best. Instead he chuckled.

“You really wouldn’t mind, then?”

“He’s your brother. Why would I mind?” He moved closer, so their foreheads were touching lightly. “It would hardly be becoming of me to deny you the chance to help someone else like you’ve helped me.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be quite the same way I helped you.”

“You know what I meant,” Aron said with a huff. His earlier train of thought returned, and he said in a small voice, “I’m still not quite sure I was worthy of your attention, to be honest.”

“Of course you were,” Sosiel said just as quietly. Aron met his gaze, first caught by the warmth, then by the sly smile. “Though…perhaps I should make that clear again. In a way reserved especially for you.”

Aron answered with a grin, laughing as his lips were captured by Sosiel’s.

[daisyful-gvf]

blueberry wine // by daisyful

*********************************************************

pairings: jake x reader

tags: fluff, europe!jake 🤭, making out, drinking

word count: 1.6k

notes: i wrote this in an hour cause i couldn’t stop thinking about it. barely edited oops. no taglist cause i’m feeling so lazy i’m sorry

*********************************************************

The sun filtering through his hair as he walks is almost a hazard as you follow him through the lush rows of vines. You’re more than buzzed, and it’s hard to walk steadily as you stare.

Your pace is lazy, holding one of his hands with a couple of your fingers as you let him lead. The field is deep green and coupled with the alcohol in you, you feel almost dazed in its peaceful wake.

“Can’t go to a vineyard and not explore the fields, doll,” you can barely hear him over the rustle of the leaves in the wind.

“Surprised we’ve made it out this far,” you giggle, “You sure you wanna make the walk back?”

He finally spins to face you, and he’s sporting a lighthearted grin.

“No,” he weaves his fingers with yours fully. He’s leaned in close, “Not sure I do. We could just stay out here, lay down forever,” he kisses your forehead, “Eat grapes til we’re sick, eventually rot with the vines.”

“Sounds lovely,” you laugh and kiss his cheek. His skin is warm from the Italian sun, and a tad salty.

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. He brings the open bottle of blueberry wine he’s been toting around to his lips and takes a long pull.

“I don’t know how you convinced them to let you drink from the bottle,” you roll your eyes affectionately.

“Cause m’charming,” he grins wide, “People let me have my way.”

“Oh, is that right?” you laugh and bury your head into the nape of his neck. He smells like him and summer.

“Mmhm,” he drops your hand so that he can settle it instead over your waist, gently bunching the fabric of your sundress in the process. He presses a soft kiss to your jaw, and you can’t help the light sigh that leaves you.

“Jake,” you say quietly, both a warning and a question. What is he up to?

“Hmm?” He kisses your temple, “Just a kiss, baby,” he soothes.

“Is it?”

His hand is holding your waist in a fashion you’re familiar with. Usually, you’re pressed up against a wall. Not in a field with strangers a hundred yards away.

“It is,” he promises, kissing your cheek again.

He pulls away, taking another long sip of his wine. When he’s done, he offers a closed mouth smirk.

“See?” he says, seemingly hoping for some praise that he hasn’t ripped your dress off.

“Sure,” you laugh. He eyes you for a moment like he wants to say more, but then settles on a deep breath.

“M’having a really nice day,” he says, with a genuine smile, “Glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you smile back and with your free hand, you slip your hand just under the white linen of his blazer to press your fingertips to his bare side. He smirks devilishly at the touch.

“Now who’s getting handsy?” He chuckles.

You opt for the final sip of your wine instead of an answer, and the way that he watches you drink makes you wish you could get handsy.

“You like that wine?” He asks.

You nod as you swallow, “Favorite one of the day.”

“Blueberry?” he nods to his own bottle and holds it up. You answer him with a nod.

“Me too. We’ll have to ship some back to the states, hmm?”

You nod again and bend down to set your empty glass on the ground beside you. When you’re facing him again, you have a free hand to brush his hair from his face. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and lets you touch him this way, soft and close.

The sun shines fully on him, and you think in that moment you’ve seen nothing more beautiful. When he opens his eyes and the light makes them glow like polished amber, you’re proven wrong.

“You look beautiful,” he smiles.

“Funny, I was going to say that to you,” you smile back.

“Come here,” he says, low and inviting. He leans in and kisses you slow and warm.

He tastes fully like the sweet wine, and if you weren’t drunk from the alcohol, you’d be drunk from this.

“Baby…” you say as a mild warning against his lips, “People.”

“Shh,” he says so gently you want to melt, “Don’t care.”

You kiss him back, and it deepens instantly. He sucks on your bottom lip, then lets you come back in to suck on his. You’re trying not to whimper in public. Eventually, it ends, and you’re left with flushed cheeks, clinging to him in the row of grapes.

“Mm,” he smiles and kisses your cheek again, “That was nice.” His voice is low and meant just for you, and it makes your stomach tickle.

He takes another swig of his wine before offering a sip to you, which you take. When you pull the bottle down and hand it back to him, you notice a small splash of purple on his blazer’s front.

“Oh,” you point to it, “I don’t know if that’ll come out, babe,” you frown, fussing with the little splotch. He shrugs.

“I’ll just buy another.”

You look up at him and smile, “Oh yeah? Just call your linen guy and order another like it didn’t cost a few hundred dollars?”

He blushes but tries to hide it. He takes another long drink and then sets the bottle down by your glass. Finally, he holds you more firm; his hands wrap around your waist and bring you snug to him. His lips are purplish red in the middle, from the kissing and the wine.

“That’s exactly what I’ll do,” he grins. His thumbs stroke the small of your back endearingly, “Have you forgotten who has been buying you expensive wine all day, hm? Who flew you out here first class?”

His smile is betraying his attempt to be causal about it all, “Or how about this nice dress here?” He grips some of the fabric at your back, “Who got that for you?”

He doesn’t do this much, or really ever—brag about his wealth. But he is now, just to you, someone who knows how truly grateful he is. He’s doing it just to fluster you, and it’s working.

“You,” you say softly.

“That’s right,” he nods and leans in against your cheek to smile, “Now where were we?” He kisses your cheek.

“Jake, there’s people like…” you sigh, unable to form a full thought with the way his lips brush your skin, “Over there,” you finish.

“I don’t care,” he murmurs and kisses your jaw, “I wanna kiss my girl while I’m half drunk in Italy,” he punctuates it with another kiss to your jaw, “It’s not like we’re gonna get naked. So what if they see us make out.”

“You sure? What if—“

“I’m sure, doll,” he brings one hand around to cup your face in his hand. He presses a light kiss to your lips, “Very sure. We’re far enough away. Just kiss me,” his last sentence is hushed and almost needy in a way that makes your spine tingle, so you oblige quickly.

Immediately, there’s more urgency in the kiss. He groans softly against your mouth, and if you had any kind of hesitancy left, that erases it. His tongue slips against yours in a way that makes your body curve up into his, and he notices, holding you tighter by the small of your back.

He sighs in between kisses, and by the way he’s pulling you along slowly through the passionate display, he’s enjoying it as much as you are. He thumbs against your cheek as he licks at you, and he pushes into your touch against his hip.

He says ‘i love you’ in a breath against your lip, and it makes you smile. He doesn’t need to say it; you can feel it entirely in the moment. You say it back, though, just so he knows.

“Got enough?” he asks breathlessly as your movements slow. You shake your head and dive back in, thirsty for more of him. He chuckles into it.

There’s always a way that he licks at your teeth that makes you putty for him, and while you almost hope he doesn’t do it while you’re in the middle of a field, you want it too badly to care. You do it to him, hoping he’ll take the hint, and he does. His tongue slips against the back of your upper teeth, and you could melt right there. You whimper against him, and then suddenly he’s pulling away.

He’s dazed, whether from the wine or kissing it’s unclear, but the smile he wears is lazy and sweet.

“I know myself,” he bites his lip as he looks at yours, “And I gotta stop, or I’m going to get put in Italian jail for indecent exposure.”

The laugh that escapes you is genuine, and his smile back to you is lovely.

“Let’s not have that happen,” you say softly, “One more kiss, though.”

He nods and obliges, pressing his lips to you once more.

When you part, he brings his other hand around to hold both sides of your face.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he smiles, “Feels like a dream.”

“Yeah,” you sigh and lean into him, breathing in the fresh smell of his blazer, “A perfect one.”

“Mm,” he agrees and presses a kiss to your hair, “Let’s get back, pretty girl. I’ll buy you some more wine and we can go eat some pasta.”

“And then?” you smile as you grab your glass and take his hand to head back to the entryway.

“And then we’re gonna see what happens when we’re wine drunk in the hotel together,” he looks back at you with a playful grin, “I’ve got a few ideas”.

fin.

[chatterbox-73]

Twelve days of Smutcember 2022.

Day 4 - Cold shoulder.

Jean Kirsten x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story for Smutcember, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Smutcember and if you want to see a character please let me know...

finally I think it’s important to note, I might be a person who celebrates Christmas, however I know not everyone does so I won���t/try not to mention or reference any particular festive holiday in these one shots, out of respect for everyone.

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

Summary/prompt: “I’m going to f*cking ruin you”

Word count: 1.9k

CW: anal, fingering, unprotected s3x, swearing, hate-s3x, enemies to ‘friends’, drinking alcohol, arguing and name calling.

You sat at the table drinking a large pint of beer, you grumbled to yourself as you watched the tall blonde Marleyan woman suck up to the higher ups, offering them some fancy wine. “Oh y/n… why not come over and have some wine” yelena smiled and held up the bottle, “I’d rather not… who knows what you Marleyan cunts could have done to that grape juice” you growled turning your nose up at the woman and she frowned, “after all this time you still don’t trust us…?” The woman walked over to you and placed a glass of wine in front of you, taking a sniff and looking down at it “smells like monkey piss…” you snarled and knocked the glass off the table only to have it shattered into pieces, you stood to your feet and looked Yelena in the eyes, “listen Yelena… why don’t you take one of your fancy wine bottles and shove it right up your a-“ you were then cut off by someone wrapping an arm around your neck and covering your mouth. “Woah wine party how cool” you heard you Commander’s voice, “section Commander L/n, why didn’t you come get me?” Hange started to pull you out of the room and into the corridor where most of the other scouts were, “now why are you starting fights with her?” They questioned and you huffed ignoring the question “you can’t hate them forever” they sighed and you chuckled, “watch me” you snapped. Hange looked amongst the group of scouts and landed on Jean, “Kirsten, take feisty pants home and make sure she stays out of trouble” they pushed you towards Jean, they knew the two of you absolutely hated each other, however they had this weird little theory, “oh, come on hange… I was planning on having a good night” he groaned and grabbed your arm before you’d try run “I don’t need a babysitter, besides I also had very important plans too… I was hoping to drink myself into a stupor” you rolled your eyes and tried to pull away from Jean, only to be yanked back. The two of you walked back to your house, both grumbling about your ruined nights, getting inside your house you kicked your boots off and staggered over to your drink cabinet, Jean stepped inside and looked around the very clean, nicely decorated house, “take your dirty fucking shoes off” you growled as you plopped down on the couch, the man jumped at your tone before slipping off his boots and placing them by the front door, “this is a really nice place… I honestly expected you to live in a sty” he sat on the armchair next to a large bookshelf, “yeah well, I like to keep things clean… this place, is also the place I was gonna live in with…” you stopped talking before looking down at the half empty bottle of whiskey and opened it taking a large drink, Jean nodded “why still live here? This place is just turning you into a miserable drunk” he sigh and to this you glared at the man, “because the man I loved bought this place for me… so we could live together” you placed the bottle down and crossed one leg over the other. “You obviously don’t know how it feels to being loved… as Mikasa is still trying to crawl up on Eren… but I’d do anything to hold onto his love for me” you snapped at the man sitting across from you and watched as his face changed from a calm, slightly smug expression, to one of burning rage, “ohhh… now that’s a scary face… don’t let her see that, it’ll push her further into Eren’s arms” you chuckled and was suddenly yanked off the couch by the scruff of the shirt, you wanted to say more smart-ass remarks but thought again. “You stupid drunken bitch!” Jean yelled in your face, you let out a chuckle and grabbed his wrists “come on I was only playin’ horse face” you smirked, before you were shaking slightly, “shut the fuck up for once… you know what if Moblit saw you right now, he’d fallen out of love with you on the spot… though I guess by now your used to loneliness” he snapped and you felt a lump in your throat, because you knew it was true…

Moblit would despise the women you’ve become and no one else wants you around because you are nothing but a sad drunk, “let go of me before I break your fucking wrists” your grip on his wrist tightened and Jean’s eyes softened at the hurt on your face, “I- I’m sorry… how about I make you something to eat?” He asked and loosened his grip, “I’m sorry too… I shouldn’t have said those things…” you softly smiled and pulled away “…and you’re right, I am lonely but I think I’m fine with that” you said with tears in your eyes, you were lying, you weren’t fine with it but it was too late now. You began walking towards your bedroom but were stopped, Jean grabbed your arm and pulled you back towards him, he wrapped an arm around your waist and tangled anything in your hair, “it’s not fine, I know it’s not… because I’m just as lonely as you” he looked down at you, watching you tried to pull away from him, “let me cook you something to eat, maybe that’ll make us feel better” he suggested and you shook your head, “I have no food to cook, now let go and leave” you snapped before finally breaking from his grip, “I’m not some replacement and neither are you” you glared at him, Jean blinked at you for a moment “of cause not… someone like you could never replace Mikasa” he chuckled and you only clicked your tongue. “Fuck you Kirsten” you flipped him off, Jean grabbed your hand “stop being so damn rude, like fuck… no wonder nobody wants you around” he snapped at you gripping your hand really tight, “well it’s no wonder she doesn’t want you… you pompous twat… you’re alway going to be a walking second place metal” you placed your other hand on his chest and tried to push him away, “I’m so much better then him… she just doesn’t know it yet” he grabs you other hand and yanked you closer to him, getting right in your face, “if you were ‘so much better’ then him… why isn’t she already with you” you whispered and smiled, suddenly you fell to the ground with Jean on top of you.

“Let me show you how much better I am” Jean growled and you chuckled, “so you know that’s pretty damn cheesy, plannin’ on ‘making love’ to me… but alright go now then” you laughed in his face “no… I’m not gonna making love to you… I despise you…” he smirked and before you could ask what he had in mind, he flipped you onto your stomach, “I’m going to fucking ruin you” he whispered as he pulled off your pants. “You’ve been a real pain in my ass ever since we first met in the 104th cadet corps… now I’m going to be a pain it your ass” Jean laughed while messily undressing you, you laid on the floor naked chest pressed to the cold wooden ground and hips high in the air, you heard Jean’s pants being unbuckled before you felt him rub something wet against your asshole, “you sure you still want this” he said as he rubbed spit on his throbbing length, “yeah I want it… it’s alright if your too scared to go through with it” you looked back and felt your breath catch in your throat once you caught sight of the man behind you. Jean had his shirt off and his unbuckled pants sitting low on his hips, he rubbed his hard member as he watched your backside closely, he spread your cheeks before spitting a large drop of saliva on your tight ring, you moan out eyes focused on his next move, he then leaned up on his knees and pressed his member into you, it hurt and he struggled but you both persisted until you found that sweet stretch. “Oh fuck, it’s some tight… I feel like you’re gonna snap it right off” Jean moaned as he found his rhythm, you whined still trying to get use to him, “give me a minute… please… dear god” you cried out, this however only spurred him on more, the man held your hips tight as he thrusted his tip rough and fast, he groaned and moan out “holy fuck… you look so fucking beautiful like this, you sweet ass is heaven sent” he moaned as he squeezed the fat of your ass cheek in his hand, you felt a tightness in your core from his words, you hadn’t expected this to feel so physical good and emotional satisfying. “Jean… can I asked you something” you asked in a small voice, it was so quiet he almost didn’t hear you, he stopped his movements and leaned down to you, pressing his chest against your back “yeah, am I being too rough?… you want me to be quiet?…” he asked as you felt your chest tighten, “can you hold me close? And umm… and keep say that stuff to me… please” Your face heated up and you heard him chuckle softly, “alright, beautiful girl” he hummed as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you up with him, Jean continued his rough and fast pace while tracing his fingers down your stomach and down to your clit, you moaned softly at the gentle circles his fingers traced, it was a stark contrast to his thrusts, “what a sweet voice, moan my name” he whispered before he licked your ear, you cried out his name and gripped onto his arm around your shoulders that was holding you up. “Jean please… I’m so close… just a little more” you whined and feeling him twitch inside you, his fingers tracing your clit stopped and moved to your entrance before slipping in and instantly matching Jean thrusts, your head fell back on his shoulder as you came undone, Jean groaned and pressed his face into your neck as he released on your lower back, he let go of around your shoulders and watched as you fell forward, you felt your eyes go heavy before you completely lost consciousness.

Jean sat on your bed watching you sleep peacefully, he looked around the room and noticed a large pile of papers and opened envelopes on your bedside table, he grabbed the top paper and began writing over it, it reads…

~~~

To my dear y/n

My love runs deeper then river; you set my heart alight; I couldn’t without your soft voice… without your gentle touch… without your warm heart… without your sincere eyes… I couldn’t live without you, I’d rather die then live a solemn loneliness without you.

You are my heart, my breath, my life…

I will love you always.

~~~

Jean sighed as he finished reading the letter, he noticed at the very bottom of the paper was dried up wet spots where your tears probably hit the paper, he placed the letter back and turned to look at you, once you lost Moblit you became a hollow shell of who you once were… gone were the days you’d sit with Connie and Sasha for hours laughing and joking, gone were the moments where you’d braid Mikasa hair, or annoyed him and Eren, or play chess with Armin… you were no longer yourself, you no longer had purpose. Jean decided in that moment he’d help you get back to your former self, or at least something close to who you use to be, “I’ll help you… I’ll be there for you, you annoying little shit” the man laid down in the bed next to you and cuddled into you.

Day 3: The pleasure of presents - Kei Tsukishima

Day 5: Roasty Toasty - Dabi/Toya Todoroki x Reader

Smutcember masterlist.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

I don’t know if you’re still doing the trick or treat thing, but I am dying for some Bagginshield fluff, featuring my favorite berry, maybe? 🥺🫐

Sorry I couldn't get this out last night, but here's some blueberry fluff!

Try It?

Pairing: Bagginshield

Type of Treat: Fluffy

Word Count: 662

It was a wondrous day for a walk through the mountainside. When Thorin had asked for Bilbo’s hand, he had made sure the dwarf realized how important sunshine and outdoor walks were to him if he were to remain in Erebor. Exactly four days later, there was a balcony and hidden set of stairs outside the royal apartments. Dis and Balin did nothing but chastise Thorin for how reckless that was, but Bilbo was completely enamored with the dwarf’s ingenuity. Their wedding had been the happiest day of Bilbo’s life.

Wandering through what Bilbo referred to as ‘the gardens’ he took stock of all the plant life returning to the mountains in the wake of Smaug’s demise. Many of them Bilbo was familiar with, but there was the occasional plant or two that Bilbo had to have Ori help him look up the name for it. Nearing the end of his walking trail, Bilbo checked on what he had assumed was a tree growing in only to be met with a beautiful sight!

Fresh wild blueberries were blossoming, thick and full and nearly bursting. Bilbo’s mind was racing with all the recipes he could make with a basketful of them. He might even have enough for a pie! Taking off his jacket, Bilbo created a makeshift carrier for the berries plucking as many as he could. He cursed his inability to reach the higher ones and vowed to come back with a basket and Thorin later for a respectable berry picking. 

Once he had as many blueberries as he could manage, he folded them carefully into his jacket and carted them back up the mountainside. Not quite enough for a pie, but more than enough for some tarts! As soon as he was back in his and Thorin’s suite, he made his way straight for the kitchen. Fully stocked and furnished, a wedding gift from the family Urs. 

“Bilbo, what are you doing?” Thorin asked amused, finding him hours later covered in flour and smelling of pastry dough.

“Look! I found blueberries today! We can go back tomorrow and gather the rest of them and maybe can them or turn it to jam…why do you have that weird look on your face?”

Thorin’s grimace seemed to be twinged with guilt when he admitted. “I don’t like blueberries.”

Bilbo was aghast. He had never heard of someone not liking blueberries! “What? Whyever not?”

“The fruit itself is yellow but somehow it has a purple juice? It is…odd. And then I’m not a fan of the outside texture.”

Bilbo’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ of understanding. “You’ve only ever had them raw, not baked? Would you be willing to try a tart of mine to see if you would like it?”

Thorin looked uncomfortable, and Bilbo was quick to reassure him with a kiss. “You don’t have to. In the Shire, we believe food should be enjoyed, not forced. I’m not trying to pressure you.”

“If they were blackberries…believe me, amrâlimê (my love), I would have them devoured in a heartbeat. But blueberries…”

Bilbo kissed Thorin again, more thoroughly. “It is perfectly alright, my dear. I’m sure there are members of the Company that would be more than willing to…”

Thorin suddenly grabbed Bilbo and kissed him again, his tongue exploring its way into Bilbo’s mouth. Not that he was complaining in the slightest.

“Are those the blueberries I taste?” He asked when he finally pulled away, a wondrous look in his eye.

Bilbo smirked. “Well I had to sample the tarts to make sure they were edible.”

Thorin rolled his eyes and shook his head before taking a step towards Bilbo’s cooling tarts. He hesitantly picked it up, gave it a sniff, before popping it in his mouth. Thorin’s eyes grew wide in amazement, and he quickly ate five more after it. It was then that he and Bilbo found out that blueberries Thorin liked. It was grapes he had an issue with.

[howdoyoudothedew]

Rated: T

Pairing: Guy Hamdon/Ben Tennyson

Word Count: ~4k

A/N: Written for @hanahaki4hanami and while it doesn't have vomiting one scene is definitely inspired by it

Flowers. It’s a little hard to tell with the way they glow, colours flashing between a scarlet red and aqua, and the feel of the petals between his fingers, somewhere between silk and a soft wood. But the smell, once you get past the bile and blood, and the shape of the petals makes it clear they’re flowers.

“Kelly, why am I spitting these up?” Guy asks from his seat on the table, kicking his legs absently. Kelly looks up from the Shemanual with something akin to worry in her eyes, her face pale. It doesn’t make him feel great. There are a lot of good things with being Shezow, but he’s found a lot of rough consequences too. He still remembers his brief attempt at a “dark and gritty” phase.

“Are you…” Kelly looks back down at the book, biting her lip. “In love?”

“In love?” Guy scoffs, laughing in disbelief. He hasn’t been in love in– ever, he thinks.

“Are you… sure?” Kelly asks, looking up at him and the stack of petals next to him again with a frown.

“... what does the book say?” Guy asks, feeling suspicious now. Kelly licks her lips, tasting the grape of her chapstick.

“It says when a Zow becomes trapped in unspoken love they start coughing up flowers. Till they confess or till it… kills them,” Kelly looks down. “The shemanual calls it hanahaki.”

“Oh,” Guy says. He stares at the petals next to him, watching them rotate between their two colours, taking in the shape of the petals. They glitter like sequins, they’re soft like silk behind the flaking red. After a few moments he begins to laugh. “Then I’m fine, because I’m not in love.”

“Guy…” Kelly says sadly.

“I’m not,” Guy repeats, looking at her. She sighs.

“Fine. Can you at least ask one of your alien buddies about them?” Guy opens his mouth, but she’s quick to speak over him. “They’re clearly not terrestrial and I’d like to know more about them, at least. It’d make me feel better.”

Guy sighs. “Alright, next time I see one of them, okay?”

“Thank you,” Kelly says, tone sarcastic but eyes sincere.

“Hey, do you know anything about flowers?” Shezow asks Diamondhead as he’s holding a shield up for them, stopping this stupid laser some smuck left firing.

“Flowers?” Diamondhead asks incredulously, looking back at her. “No, why?”

Shezow shakes her head. “No reason, just found some alien ones and my partner’s curious. I think she wants to see if she can make a cutting and grow more, but she needs to know more about them first and we don’t really know where to start looking.”

“So you ask the first big alien you see?” Diamondhead asks and Shezow shrugs.

“I’ll ask my si- sidekick and see what she says. She knows shit like that better than me,” Diamondhead says. It’s not the first time one of these aliens has nearly slipped on the word ‘sister’, and sometimes Shezow wonders what it means. Have they just not been doing the superhero gig for very long? Was their sister not a secret before? Or do they just trust Shezow enough that a part of them wants to tell her the secret, but the importance of a secret identity won out every time? Shezow’s chest tightens and she coughs, just slightly.

“Thanks, big guy.” Shezow winks. “Now I think it’s time to fight a little laser with laser.”

It wasn’t very hard to realize the ten aliens he fought with as Shezow occasionally were all one person. Maybe it would’ve been if Guy didn’t have his own– albeit much smaller– transformation, but it wasn’t too hard to put two and two together when one guy would run off and then another, different guy would show up several minutes later with the first nowhere in sight. There aren’t many aliens in Megadale. Not ones that look so obvious or fight crime, at least.

He sighs, looking at the petals he coughed up after Diamondhead left and tapping his fingers against the table. The shemanual has never been wrong before, but… Guy scrubs his hands over his face before he can consider the possible smudging of his eyeliner. The worst part is, given the flower, there’s only one possible answer if the shemanual is right and he’s pretty sure Kelly knows it.

“The flowers are supposed to represent the person you love in some way,” she’d said before he left. Guy gathers up the flowers a little rougher than he needs to and throws them in the container with all the rest. Since they don’t know what they are exactly, they haven’t been able to throw them out or even burn them. Just because they’re fine in his body, doesn’t mean they’d be okay when introduced to other conditions. Or so Kelly said. Personally, Guy thinks if they grew inside him they should be perfectly safe even if they’re alien. Maybe they even only look like the alien flowers they represent, but are much closer biologically to something from earth.

But what’s he know? Science is his worst subject.

It’s stupid anyhow, whatever this is. Guy’s never been in love before and he’s not in love now. Especially with some boy he only kinda knows who turns into ten, admittedly really cool, different aliens. If he was, he’d know it.

“Hey! Shezow!” Diamondhead calls, running up to him. Shezow turns and nearly laughs at the dents Diamondhead is leaving in the sidewalk. “I have the info on those flowers you wanted!” He stops in front of him with a wide smile, holding out a pile of pages held together with a paperclip with print Shezow is sure is too neat to be his. Too neat to be Diamondhead’s, at least. One of the other alien forms could’ve written it, or his human form, or one of his partners. The idea the boy behind Diamondhead could’ve taken the time to handwrite multiple pages of information on an alien flower for him makes him flush. He swallows down the swirl of flowers.

“Thanks,” Shezow says, keeping his eyes on the packet as he takes it from him.

“Sure thing!” Diamondhead smiles at him. “Anything for my favourite super-powered sidekick.”

“Sidekick?” Shezow repeats, looking up at him. “Excuse you, you’re the sidekick here.”

Diamondhead snorts, but it’s fond and amused. It’s an old joke between friends, not distaste like he got from those assholes when he was just starting and considered joining a bigger team. He’s still glad he’d decided against it in the end. And glad he tried, if just to force the old heroes too stuck in their ways to see past themselves to actually look at other heroes for a change. Shezow folds the papers to store them in an empty pouch on his utility belt.

Later, he throws up the petals he’d swallowed down.

“This is a dangerous place right now, you know.” Guy jolts at the hissing voice and looks up into XLR8’s visor. He showed up out of nowhere, right as Guy was about to transform. Though it’s not very surprising. It’s more XLR8’s thing than any of the others to show up suddenly, completely silent. She curls her hand into a fist, hiding her ring, despite knowing no one else who’s noticed it has ever connected the dots so the idea of XLR8 being able to is a little silly. But she also knows he’s a good hero. She won’t risk it.

“Is it?” Guy asks, coughing as she nearly uses her Shezow voice on instinct. If XLR8 notices the slight way her voice warbles, she can’t tell.

“Well yeah,” he gestures out of the alley, to where the villain of the week is making a giant mess of the road. Without a doubt, her dad will be complaining about it during dinner. Though he’s started to complain less, between the years of living in Megadale and Shezow starting to do the best she can to keep the damage to a minimum during the fight as well as helping fix things after. “There’s a villain right there, you can’t seriously tell me you missed it.”

Guy shrugs. “There are a lot of villains here. If I hid or whatever everytime one popped up, I’d never get to do anything.” Even with the visor, she feels like she knows the exact expression XLR8 is making. Eyes narrowed, staring at her like he thinks she’s a little off-kilter but unable to say anything because she’s not exactly wrong. “Aren’t you supposed to protect me, anyway?”

XLR8 snorts. It’s a noise he’s made before and it makes Guy just as curious as it has every other time he’s made it. As far as Guy can tell, XLR8 has no nose. How can you snort without a nose? He picks her up, dashing off before one of the androids spots them in their little alleyway. It’s always a little dizzying to travel by someone else’s super speed.

“You’re not gonna fight them?” Guy asks once she’s put down. They’re far away from the action now, though she can still hear it.

“I’m waiting for my partner. She’s later than she usually is,” XLR8 says, looking around.

“Can’t you do it without her?” Guy asks, feeling her heart pound. He has to be talking about her. In all the time they’ve worked together, whenever he talks about the people he works with he calls them his sidekicks, so it has to be her.

“Yeah, but this is her city and it’d feel weird,” XLR8 says. The petals shift in her chest as she breathes.

“That’s nice of you,” Guy says and XLR8 laughs, the sound crackling like tv static before he runs off. Guy watches him go. Once he’s out of sight, she transforms.

“Where were you?” Kelly asks quietly once Shezow is by her side.

“XLR8 caught me before I could transform, so I had to make a detour,” Shezow says, refusing to look at her sister. It didn’t help that she’d had to cough up more petals before she could even transform. The flowers were starting to get annoying, scraping against her insides. Kelly tilts her head and Shezow moves to join XLR8 before Kelly can connect any dots. Before she can see Kelly connect the dots. It wouldn’t be the full picture, anyway. Because if Shezow really is in love with XLR8, then she’s also in love with multiple other boys. And as far as she knows Kelly still thinks all the aliens are different people.

“You’re in love with him,” Kelly says.

No I’m not, Guy wants to say, but “which one do you mean?:” slips out instead. He wants to bash his head into the counter. It’s cruel of her to confront him on this when he hasn’t even had his breakfast.

“I don’t know. All of them?” Kelly shrugs. “I have a theory about them, but I haven’t really been able to confirm it yet.”

“What’s your theory?” Guy asks, hoping to distract her away from whatever her original intent was.

“I think all the aliens might actually be one, shapeshifting alien,” Kelly says quietly, like a conspiracy. Despite the fact they’re in the She-Lair. “We never see them all together, even when multiple of them help you in the same day. And none of them ever stick around despite helping you.”

I wouldn’t say that… Guy thinks, remembering several times he’s hung out with one of them after they’ve saved the city. Playing in the park with Wildmutt or getting a fizzy burp with Four Arms… He doesn’t say anything, though. It’d only give Kelly more fuel.

“So you think they’re all the same person?” Guy asks

“Yeah. But like I said, it’s just a theory.”

“A game theory, thanks for watching,” Guy mumbles around his spoon and Kelly gives him a flat look.

“Can’t you be serious about this, at least?” Kelly asks. “You know, since it’ll kill you eventually.”

“See, the key word there is eventually.” Guy hops up onto the counter. “And if I’m even in love, instead of this being some other weird flower disease.”

“Another weird flower disease,” Kelly says flatly.

“Yeah! I work with aliens constantly, a magic ring’s messed with my dna, who knows what I could’ve caught that a normal human wouldn’t?” Guy says. Kelly sighs. “Maybe it’s not a Shezow thing.”

“But what if it is?” Kelly asks.

“Then I’m fine,” Guy says, hoping off the counter, and taking Kelly’s hands in his. “Because I’m not in love.”

Kelly, like any sister, is lovely, helpful, and a major pain in the ass. She doesn’t drop it, which leads to him being out more. He can’t take it to Maz, because Maz is on Kelly’s side. So he only has one friend to turn to. Or, ten friends.

The sun is bright enough to glitter off Diamondhead in rainbows. It’s something Guy would’ve said looks dumb, back when he was twelve and only just starting out as Shezow. And only just learning about himself. Now, he just thinks it looks cool and kind of pretty, the way the colours paint the sidewalk and grass. “So what’s up, Zow? You don’t usually call.”

He doesn’t. He should, probably, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know where their base is, or when they’re in the area, so he’s never bothered before. “My sister’s being a nuisance,” she says and Diamondhead nods. “I know she doesn’t mean to be, she’s just worried, but I’ve told her she doesn’t have to be. And now she’s dragged my best friend into it, too.”

“I thought I was your best friend,” Diamondhead pouts, and Shezow laughs.

“One of them,” she says with a smile. Diamondhead looks at her like he knows she’s not just talking about the friends he has as Guy Hamdon, but he doesn’t say anything. She wonders if he would’ve as Greymatter.

“So you want me to distract you?” Diamondhead asks.

“It’d be nice,” Shezow sighs. Diamondhead mimes cracking his knuckles.

“That I can do,” Diamondhead says with a wide smile, and Shezow smiles back.

Maybe it’s the days he spends hanging out with the different forms his alien friend takes that does him in. But he feels good around the aliens, feels happy and distracted, and he needs the distraction. Wants the distraction with Kelly, Maz, and even Sheila breathing down his neck. So he ignores the tickling of his chest, the painful squeeze of his ribcage, holding in the petals and flowers until he has no choice but to speed away to cough them up. They always look worried when he comes back, despite Shezow making sure to wipe away any spit or blood. To make sure there is no evidence of this disease which isn’t a sign of love, slowly twisting his running thoughts into knots around his lungs and heart.

It’s what kills him, except it doesn’t, because he is Shezow and if it did Kelly would find a way to kill him herself instead.

Four Arms catches him as he stumbles, coughs wracking painfully up his throat, too sudden and powerful for him to hold down. When the heaving starts, the petals and flowers forcing their way up and out, Four Arms scrambles before holding his hair back. It makes him want to smile. Then the stems squeeze more painfully, making him gasp and choke.

“Shezow?” Four Arms asks, worry dripping from his voice. Shezow wants to reassure him, wants to tell him she’s fine, but the flowers are more insistent. They don’t want to stop. She coughs until her lungs are on fire, until her throat feels like she ate seven bags of super-spicy nachos. And then she coughs past it. Flowers and blood and spit lay on the ground in front of Shezow, blurred by tears. Then it’s done. Shezow sits there for several long minutes, breathing slow through a burning throat, until she registers Four Arms with one hand still holding back her hair and another rubbing her back as he makes soft sounds, like he’s done this before.

It is quite possibly the stupidest moment to have the sudden realization that Kelly might just be right.

She scrubs her arm across her eyes, the cloth of the gloves brushing away the tears.

“Are those the flowers you asked Diamondhead about two months ago?” Four Arms asks, looking over her shoulder. Shezow swallows once, twice, feeling the burn of acid in her throat.

“Yeah.” Her voice croaks. She doesn’t risk clearing her throat.

“Why’d you spit them up?” He asks.

“It’s a Shezow thing,” Shezow answers, doing her best to smile. Four Arms raises an eyebrow.

“Are you dying?” Four Arms asks quietly. Shezow wants to say no. Thinks she should say maybe, since it’s closer to the truth, and ends up saying “Naybe” instead. It makes Four Arms snort, at least. The petals in her chest flutter at the sound. She clears her throat on instinct. Regrets it immediately.

“I should head out.” She stands up, feeling rocky in a way she hasn’t since she traded in her high heels for hightops.

“Wait!” Four Arms quickly moves to standing as well, holding out all four of his hands. He gestures to himself with two of them. “Maybe I should take you back or something.”

“Thanks, but I’m a big girl. I can make it back to my lair on my own, I promise,” Shezow says.

She leaves behind the flowers, too busy running to think about them. Even if she wasn’t, she’s not sure she wouldn’t have left them there anyway despite what Kelly would say, leaving them behind like evidence of guilt.

“I’m in love with all of them,” Guy admits to Kelly once he’s back in the She-lair, catching her and Sheila off guard and interrupting their conversation. Kelly stares at him for several seconds before jumping to her feet.

“Guy! You look-” Kelly breaks off, mouth open, just staring more.

“Like she-it?” Guy says, laughing bitterly.

“I think I just coughed up about three entire bouquets. You know, maybe I should get into the flower arranging business.”

“Guy.” Kelly’s using her serious tone and Guy’s shoulders droop.

“Can we not do this right now? I’m feeling pretty tired actually,” Guy says. It doesn’t take much work for him to sound pathetic. He feels pathetic. He feels like he just got run over by a steam engine. Kelly frowns.

“What happened?” She asks, tone gentled, and Guy isn’t sure if it’s better or worse. Guy shrugs, because he doesn’t want to admit she’s right when already she knows she is. “How bad was it?”

“Remember that bad I ate? The one you told me not to?” Guy asks. Kelly hisses between her teeth.

“That’s bad.”

“Yeah.” Guy sighs. He doesn’t really know what else to do. Usually Kelly is the one with all the bigger-picture ideas. And the only solution he knows is one he really doesn’t want to do.

It’s also the one he knows Kelly will give.

“You going to tell them?” Kelly asks.

“I don’t want to,” Guy whines, pouting at her. He’d bat his eyelashes, too, but he was still transformed and didn’t want to accidentally activate his wind winkers. There is not much pity to be had when your ‘pity me’ act is interrupted by near-bodily harm. Kelly pats his shoulder.

“Too bad.”

“Kelllyyyyy,” Guy whines. “Don’t make me.”

“Oh, I can’t make you do anything,” Kelly says and pokes him in the chest. “But your body can. Promise me you’ll say something before your stupidity actually does manage to kill you, yeah?”

Guy huffs out a breath, gently knocking her hand away. “Fine. Though just remember, technically you’re giving up any chance to take over being Shezow.”

“An incredible sacrifice on my part,” Kelly says drily.

If Guy is anything, it’s awkward. He wishes he still had the super empathy because at least then he seemed to know what to say, but now he can only rely on his own twisting tongue and pounding heart. The flowers choking up his throat don’t help. She rocks back on the heels of her white sneakers, looking up at Heatblast. “Did Four Arms tell you about me coughing up flowers in front of him?” Heatblast blinks at her. She holds onto the end of her gloves, arms crossed behind her back.

“Yeah.” He says slowly, giving her a searching look. His eyes flicker across her torso and limbs like she may fall apart into petals, right there in front of him. Maybe she will. Neither Kelly or she knows just how a Shezow dies to this, if the petals will choke her until the stems come out her throat like a vase or if they’ll simply expand outwards until she’s nothing but flowers and roots. The thought doesn’t push her like she wishes it did. Who knew it was this hard to just tell someone you kinda-sorta like them? (Maz. Maz probably knew.) “Hey said you might be dying?”

Shezow swallows, adam’s apple bobbing painfully. “I am.”

“Oh.” Heatblast’s fire crackles in the silence between them, and Shezow knows she really should say something, but she doesn’t know how.

“I have a secret?” Shezow says, voice turning up into a question instead of staying steady for a statement and she winces. Heatblast’s head tilts. “I know you’re all one alien. Person?”

Heatblast’s fire splutters. “W-whaaat? No we’re not, have you seen those other guys?”

“Yeah.” Shezow licks her lips, tastes the oddly waxy taste of her lipstick. Quieter, “I have another secret.”

Heatblast’s denials cut off. This time, he looks nervous. “Yeah…?”

“I think I like all of you. Uh. Like-like. The gross mushy kind. Except maybe not the mushy kind? I’ve never really… done this before, so I’m not sure, but definitely the romantic kind,” she rambles, looking at the ground. The sidewalk is cracked; a dandelion is popping through, bright and yellow. When she glances up, Heatblast’s mouth is agape.

“What.” There’s no inflection to his voice, but his flame’s gotten lighter. He’s blushing. Shezow feels her own face heat at the realization.

“Uh- Y-yeah,” Shezow says.

“Wh- what does this have to do with you… dying?” Heatblast asks. Shezow laughs, the sound strangled and high.

“Apparently when a Shezow falls in love, flowers grow in her lungs until she admits it!” She laughs again. It feels hysterical, like helium going to her head.

“Well that’s stupid.” Heatblast frowns. Shezow gives a flat smile and nods.

“She-yeah it is. A surprising amount of rules are bullshit. They really like ‘Zows to be honest with their feelings, or whatever,” Shezow says. Heatblast makes a noise Shezow recognizes as a snort, but sounds more like a flame spluttering.

“You don’t like it?” Heatblast asks with a smile.

“Yeah, sure, I love the feeling of flowers curling into my ribs. Feels great,” Shezow says drily. She takes a breath and finally realizes just how much oxygen fills her lungs. She didn’t even realize she was breathing smaller breaths before now. She takes another breath, just to feel it completely fill her lungs, the taste of flowers still tainting it. Each breath makes the air feel clearer.

“If it helps any, I think I have gross mushy romantic feelings for you, too,” Heatblast says. Shezow smiles.

“It might,” she says and Heatblast laughs. The sound makes her chest flutter— butterflies, not flowers. The relief makes her laugh as well.

[reginaregen]

BOND- Pretty Bucky, walkin' down the street

Chapter song is attached :) lol. Have fun guys!

"You've finally made the transition from the Soviet hitman image to the modern man image," Sam observed with admiration as he walked into the store with Bucky, who had a short haircut.

"I can't wait to show it off to your sister."

Sam pulled out his phone, opened "Pretty Woman," and grinned at Bucky. "We're going shopping to this song."

"What song is this?"

When Bucky heard the lyrics, he rolled his eyes. Sam, on the other hand, was chuckling with delight. "Come on, pretty girl, walk! Don’t tell me you’ve never seen this masterpiece of a movie!"

"I only know The Hobbit from today, this is the first time I'm hearing this song."

"When did you read it?"

"I read it when it first came out, in 1937, you jackass."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Don't get all cranky. You don't look so intimidating with that short hair."

Bucky gave him a piercing look. "Excuse me?"

"Oh god! I'm sure this is the same look the Grim Reaper gives people when he approaches."

Bucky shrugged. "Maybe. I've walked toward plenty of people with this look while killing them."

When they entered the store, girls who giggled at hearing the song came to help them. They dragged Bucky inside and, at their polite request, started playing the song throughout the store. While Bucky was rushing back and forth from the fitting room trying on clothes, Sam was enjoying a glass of champagne. When Tony entered, filming Bucky on his phone, everything finally made sense. At first, Bucky couldn’t understand why Sam had brought him to such a fancy place. Escaping the girls' clutches, he approached the couch where Tony and Sam were sitting, throwing grapes into each other’s mouths and trying to catch them. "Why did you invite Tony?"

Sam grinned. "You didn’t really think this was all my idea, did you? I texted Tony when we left the house."

"You..."

Tony chirped, "Buck..."

"Only Steve gets to call me Buck."

And Elena, if she wants to. Actually, she could call you anything, you wouldn’t mind. Once, when she called you "Tin Soldier," it turned you on.

As Bucky cringed at the ruthlessness of his inner voice, Tony spoke again. "Alright, cranky kid. Don’t make a big deal out of it. I’ve got a lot of money—so much that I don’t even know how much. And I love buying gifts for my friends."

"Why are you here?"

"Because..." Tony rubbed his hands together. "I want to see Captain America and the Winter Soldier fight over a girl."

Bucky turned to Sam with a look of disbelief. "You told him?"

After finishing their shopping with a lot of banter, they left the store. As they got into the car, Tony and Sam had already made a bet on Steve and Bucky.

*   *   *

"Let's be quiet, Bucky might be sleeping." said Elena as she smelled the peonies in her hands, waiting for Steve to unlock the door.

"I'm starting to think you like those peonies more than me. You didn't even leave them at home." Steve grinned. "Bucky's not home. If he were, he'd have opened the door and probably shoved a gun in our faces."

Elena had been smelling the flowers the entire way to the restaurant, and when they arrived, one of the waiters she knew offered to keep them in water until they left. She happily accepted. When they were leaving, they even let her take the flowers with the vase. Sure, being famous had its perks, but she wasn’t abusing it. After all, the waiter who made the offer had two younger siblings who were receiving full scholarships from Elena’s education foundation. One way or another, she always found a way into people’s hearts.

"But they're so beautiful." she said, stepping inside as Steve opened the door. "Also, you have no idea how long I've been imagining you getting me flowers. I’m surprised you even knew they were my favorite."

Steve laughed as he followed her to the kitchen where he went to make some coffee. "I also know you prefer sleeping on your right side. And you love reading in the garden when it’s sunny." He prepared the coffee machine, and after pressing the button, turned to the girl who had set the flowers down on the counter. "When you’re embarrassed, your voice gets a little louder. No matter how much you shout and scream, you’re soft-hearted, you can never stay mad at anyone for too long. Except for Bucky... Though he's been annoying me too lately."

Elena looked at Steve with admiration and asked, "How do you know so much about me?"

Steve stepped closer to Elena, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear as he leaned his body against hers. He bent down and whispered into her ear, "You’re not the only one struggling with your feelings. I'm tired of running away from you, Elena. I made up so many excuses, but none of them justified avoiding you any longer."

Elena swallowed as her cheeks heated up. Steve’s warm breath grazed her ear and neck with each word. She couldn't believe how close they were. The woody scent of his cologne wrapped around her like an invisible pair of hands. She wanted to press her lips against his neck, but as her face flushed even more, she abandoned the thought. When Steve rubbed his nose against her neck, she gripped the edge of the counter. If it hadn’t been for the coffee machine's beeping, Steve’s next move would have been to pick her up by the waist and place her on the counter. But the alarm snapped him out of it, and he rushed over to the machine.

Elena sighed with relief now that she wasn’t sandwiched between Steve and the counter. Being that close to him wasn’t doing her any good. She was dazed. When Steve handed her a cup of coffee, she lifted her hand to take it, and her fingers brushed against his, sending a spark of excitement through her. Noticing this, Steve leaned in, teasing her a little. "Want me to bring it to your lips?"

How could Steve make such an ordinary question sound both strange and sexy at the same time?! Elena's throat was dry, and she struggled to respond. "Sorry, what?" she whispered. Steve’s fingers wrapped around her hand, which was holding the coffee cup. With that mischievous smile that made her heart race, he closed the distance between them again, pressing her against the counter. "I am just asking, would you like me to help you drink your coffee? Would that make you happy?"

Elena opened her mouth, but no words came out. Steve’s hand released the cup and moved towards her face. She clung to the cup, determined not to drop it, but she wasn’t prepared for what came next. When his thumb brushed against her lips, a sudden jolt of electricity shot through her. As Steve pressed his body against hers, she felt something hard against her stomach. At that moment, the cup slipped from her hand. Hot coffee splashed on both of them, and with one swift motion, Steve unbuttoned her dress. The buttons popped off, and as she grabbed onto his shoulder for balance, she suddenly felt the cold marble of the counter against her hips. Steve had placed her on it. He took a few steps towards the fridge and grabbed an ice pack, his eyes scanning Elena’s flushed skin. "You burned yourself, Elena."

I was burning before that too, she wanted to say. Every inch of her body was on high alert. She hadn’t even really felt the pain of the hot coffee. When the ice pack touched her bare stomach, she arched her back. "God! It’s freezing!"

Steve chuckled. "Sorry, but I have to put it on." As he leaned forward, avoiding looking at her underwear, he couldn’t help the thoughts flooding his mind. He didn’t want to be thinking about running his lips along the edge of her black bra while she was still in pain, but his mind was betraying him.

When Elena finally looked down from the ceiling, their eyes met. Steve was leaning over her, his gaze fixed on her chest, which was rising and falling rapidly. She tried to ignore the way his darkened eyes looked, but panic set in as she reached out and lifted his shirt. "Steve! Didn’t any of the hot coffee spill on you? You must be burned..." She lifted his shirt, but his stomach was untouched—well, apart from his perfectly toned abs. Instinctively, she ran her hand over the muscles. "No damage at all. The serum?"

Steve nodded. He was afraid if he spoke, he’d say something so indecent it would scare her off. Elena's hand continued to explore his abs, inching upward. Steve leaned down, kissing her belly as he pulled the ice pack away. "Did you feel that?" he asked, looking up at her from below.

Elena couldn’t control the moan that escaped her lips. "No."

Steve lightly brushed his scruffy beard against her skin, planting another kiss. "And this?"

Elena squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back. She was supposed to take things slow; she had promised Frank. But as Steve’s kisses moved further down her belly, she suddenly remembered her dress was undone, leaving her in nothing but her underwear in front of him. "This is a bad idea."

As Steve’s large hands moved to spread her legs apart, Elena tried to close them, but it was too late. Seeing the dampness on her underwear, Steve smirked triumphantly. "You’re wet for me, Elena."

"This really is a bad idea," she whimpered. She wanted to run away and throw herself at Steve's mercy at the same time.

Steve rubbed his nose against the inside of her thigh, his voice a deep rumble. "Which part is the bad idea?" He pulled back and took off his shirt, tossing it aside, before leaning down to brush his lips against hers. "That I still haven’t kissed you?" His bare chest pressed against her bra-covered chest as he grabbed one of her legs and wrapped it around his waist. Elena let out a soft moan, and he brushed his lips over hers again. "Or that you’ve had me under your spell with those eyes of yours?"

The sound of keys jingling filled their ears, and they both looked towards the front door, where the kitchen was clearly visible. Bucky had already opened the door and dropped his keys.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" he yelled. "I MAKE TUNA SANDWICHES ON THAT COUNTER!" Tony and Sam, who had followed him in, froze in shock.

Elena groaned in embarrassment. "Damn!"

Steve picked Elena up, her legs now wrapped around his waist, his body shielding hers, and he carried her to his room. Elena wrapped one arm around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. For a moment, she made the mistake of glancing up and locked eyes with Bucky, whose blue-green eyes were seething with rage. She could’ve sworn he was trying to burn her soul out of her body with his stare. As the door shut behind them, Bucky turned to the other two, his face red with fury. "If either of you say a single word about this tonight, I’ll kill you!" he yelled before storming out into the night, determined to do something reckless to forget what he just saw.

[estellardreams]

Tachophobia Expanded Universe: Incorrect Quotes

Niko: Then either Sonic is a god or could kill god, and I do not care if there is a difference.

Camellia, looking at a dead phone: How do we bring this thing back to life? Magic? Live sacrifice? I know a guy in town-

Camellia, holding a toy lightsaber: I’m Darth Vader! Doctor Aster: I’m done with everyone’s bullshit.

Camellia: What do we think of Niko? *pause* Damien: *sighs* Nice pal. Kyle: I think they're gay.

Damien: No, I don't want to talk about physics! I don't know anything about the laws of physics because they are hard and boring. I simply would like them to behave in a way that is most convenient to ME and MY LIFE! Is that really asking too much? Kyle: Yes, as a matter of fact, it is! Damien: Well, guess what? Science is stupid bullshit!! Kyle: You take that back!!! Damien: No. Magic is awesome. Science blows. The end.

Damien: Is this gaslighting? Am I being gaslit? Doctor Aster: If I were gaslighting you, you’d never know it. Damien: Is THAT gaslighting? Doctor Aster: Shut up.

Damien: Hello, I'm Damien. I work at a shop now. Here to help. Look, they gave me a badge with my name on it in case I forget it. Very helpful, as that does happen.

Damien, ordering coffee: I’d like a light roast. Kyle: You're kinda ugly.

Camellia: Do you guys want to see a butterfly? Kyle: Ooh, yes please! Doctor Aster, with their laptop open: I'm not going to stop working to look at a stupid bug! Camellia: It's not a bug though... Doctor Aster: ... Kyle: ... Doctor Aster: Well I still don't want to see. Kyle, realizing: Please don't throw- Camellia: Whee! *throws a stick of butter*

Damien: Just wondering, did you get any sleep? Camellia: Did I get any... leap? Damien: What...?

Niko, gesturing to Doctor Aster: Camellia, look what you did! You made Mom upset! Damien: Mom, please don’t cry, we’re sorry! Camellia: I’m sorry Mom... :( Doctor Aster, near tears: I DON’T REMEMBER GIVING BIRTH TO ANY OF YOU!

Kyle: Hi could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire? Damien: Microwave for 40 minutes. Camellia: WHY WERE YOU MICROWAVING A LEMON?! Damien: I read boiling lemons helps cover up bad smells and I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges, but I didn’t own any pots… Niko: Did you burn an orange too? HOW?! Damien: Microwave for 40 minutes.

Kyle, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

Camellia: Onion rings are vegetable donuts. Damien, used to Camellia being dumb: Sure... Camellia: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed. Damien: Okay? Camellia: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake. Damien: Camellia: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio- Damien: Jesus, that one is a little- Niko, interested: No, no, Camellia, keep going.

Kyle: *spits mouthful of blood onto floor* You’ve become far more powerful since we last crossed paths. Dentist: Please stop, there’s literally a sink right next to you.

Damien: What's that? Camellia: Chocolate. Damien: What's chocolate? Camellia: Candy. Do they not have candy where you're from? Damien: Yeah. Grapes, nuts. Camellia: No wonder you're so bitter.

Kyle: Don’t you have any dignity, Doctor Aster? Doctor Aster: Uh, no.

Niko: Hey Damien, do you have any hobbies? Damien: Swimming.. Niko: Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to- Damien: In a pool of self hatred and regret.

Damien: I’m terrible at expressing myself. Doctor Aster: Don’t worry, actions speak louder than words! Damien: Yes, but my actions are also bad.

Kyle: Oh gosh I wish I got more sleep I only got six hours! Camellia: Six? I only got three! Niko: You guys got sleep? Damien, comes stumbling out of their room and grabs a jug of coffee before saying: What year is it??

Camellia: You’re insane! Doctor Aster: Sure I am, what’s your point?

(OH MY GOD WHEN I SAW THIS GENERATED I SCREAMED:)

Damien: Welcome to my room. As you can see, I've knocked over many chairs because I get so tilted at the towers. Kyle: Uh, this isn't really tilted. Or a tower. Damien: Well you see, it's a gamer pad. Not many girls come in here because I get friendzoned so frequently. But that's okay. Kyle: I'd like to be in the Friendzone! I like friends! Damien: It's not as pleasant as you think. They don't treat you like a friend. They treat you like an item. Sometimes I wish I could be more than just an accessory to these women; But unfortunately, as a gamer, I don't get respect. Kyle: I'm not a gamer! so maybe they'll respect me! Damien: That just makes you a beta cuck.

Niko: Be right back, gonna hit the toilet for a quick power sob.

Camellia: Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Doctor Aster: If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.

Doctor Aster: What kinds of sounds annoy you? Camellia: Are we talking real sounds or imaginary ones? Doctor Aster, now interested: Lets say imaginary. Camellia: Spiders wearing flip flops.