#I love his little sweaters and hoodies but like.... where's the flavor?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bangtancentricsblog · 4 years ago

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》 Unbeknownst to Jungkook, there is a rise in popularity for a particular human holiday, one of which leaves him blindsided and scrambling to find the absolute perfect gift for his one and only. They say food is the quickest way to a man’s heart but no one ever said it didn't work on women.

❒ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

❒ genre: fluff, established relationship, a dash of angst, and a pinch of smut

❒ alternative universe: fantasy, college/university, werewolf, witch,

❒ rating: 18+

❒ word count: 12.4 k+

warnings/disclosures: werewolf Jungkook, witch MC, kinda tsundere mc, cat shifters Yoongi and Yoonji, Fairy Jimin, Siren Taehyung, MC is on the bigger side!, Merman Seokjin, Elf Hoseok, Vampire Namjoon, friendly fondling from yoonji, heteroflexible/bicurious yoonji, boob talk, mc is not good at cooking, misunderstanding on jungkook’s part, baking mishaps, frazzled jungkook, not so helpful/helpful yoongi, half-hearted frenemies Jungkook and Yoonji, Jungkook cries a little, yoonji jumping to conclusion, sense8 references, harry potter references, killing eve reference, way too many allusions to sex, jungkook isn't a good at baking, always reliable Seokjinnie, chubby POC Bunny shifter OC, whiney JK and MC, ‘rich’ jungkook, not edited i tried to i really did, taste testers Jimin and Taehyung, SMUT is at the end, bad smut at the end, food play (mostly them getting turned on by feeding each other), fingering (ew why do we call it that? Finger blast sounds better lmao), cock warming-ish, tiny hints of a size kink, grinding, soft fuck, soft spanking, sappy endings

❀ this is part of the bangtan pastries valentine collab hosted by the lovely @suhdays, who also made my lovely banner 💖 make sure to check out the other fics as well, they’re amazing as are the other authors and please excuse any incoherent inconsistencies or misspelling as this fic was written over a many days and long hours ❀

main ml • AO3

His nose is cold, a weird thing to think about when a werewolf's body temperature literally runs higher than every other species. There’s a chill racing up his spine as he shivers reaching a lazy arm across the bed in search of your warmth only to come up empty. Jungkook finally cracks an eye open, pushing himself into a sitting position to see if you really are missing or you’ve only scooted to the very edge of the bed to escape his scalding body temperature. Though to his displeasure you are in fact missing, he’s running his hand through his hair and taking a deep breath before scrunching his feature. His nose is still cold, so he can't smell much, can only feel the slight sting of the frigid air as he breathes it in.

He hates the winter, all he can ever smell is the damp ground and the cold of the air. Funnily enough most werewolves loved winter since it gave them a break from their heightened senses, not Jungkook though, he couldn't stand not being able to smell you on his bed, in your house, on him. Your shared bedroom is extra chilly this morning raising goosebumps along his exposed skin, he’s tired, not having gotten enough sleep from the long night of studying he’d done the night before.

You’re a naturally early riser so he knows why you’re up, Jungkook however isn't exactly a morning person, never has been, especially on the weekend when neither of you have anywhere to be. He’s groggy as he pads down the hallway, a yawn stretching his mouth wide, another shiver wracking his body the closer he gets to the back of the house, it’s always been chillier there, it’s downright brutal in the winter time.

He isn't surprised when he finally comes to stand in the doorframe of the sunroom watching your figure drop what he’s pretty sure is mugwort in the bubbling cauldron. There’s this sense of domesticity watching you work, a luxury he couldn't afford as the two of you grew up. He can almost vividly remember the ugly way you’d scowl at him when he’d plop down in front of you brandishing scraped up hands or knees. A soft almost unkind reminder that he should be more careful and that next time he came in you wouldn't treat his wounds. He remembers thinking you didn't like him, maybe even hated him, so after a while (more like into his teenage years) he just stopped showing up. So you would imagine his surprise when you’d finally cornered him after his abrupt disappearance. His lips tug upward at the memory of you clumsily confessing your feelings to him before running off, never giving him a chance to properly convey his own feelings.

It’s weird for Jungkook to think that he’d almost let you slip through his fingers, his dumb teenage werewolf hormones had told him to just let you be. That you weren’t even one of his kind, so you wouldn't be worth it. He’d been so close to letting you get away, so close to letting you leave the pack when he’d taken his precious time working through his natural instincts (at least the ones he had then). How he’d almost brushed off your confession because there was no way cold, stoic you liked him. Impossible he’d thought, and then a week after he’d overheard your parents asking permission for you to attend a school away from pack lands. Away from the pack, away from your family, and away from him. The very thought twisted his stomach unpleasantly, making him nauseous as he thought of everyday life without you.

It was then that he knew he couldn’t let that happen, something about you leaving didn't sit well in his being. He couldn’t describe it then, after all a sixteen year old only understood the bare minimum of love and life and he knew even less than that. Somewhere in his mind rushing to your house at that moment had made sense, more sense than anything had in the short amount of time he’d had to process the information. He probably should’ve knocked before rushing into your house, maybe also knocked instead of flinging your room door open the way he had. The grin he wears grows wider as he recalls what he’d seen all those years ago. The rest is history, at least the embarrassing parts that he refuses to acknowledge. He doesn’t regret the way your relationship had started, especially not after almost seven years of dating. Hell, he considers himself lucky that you even stuck around this long because truth be told Jungkook could be a handful, like now for example.

“Is that my sweater?” he asks, watching amusedly as you jump nearly spilling an entire vial of pixie dust. Your hand has gone to your chest to calm your racing heart as it beats harshly against your ribs, scowling as you think of how you hated that he was so light on his feet.

“I couldn't find an apron, and it’s cold.” you say rubbing at your nose with sweater pawed hands before sprinkling some of the pixie dust into the cauldron.

“Y’know I don't like when you brew in my clothes, the smell sticks for too long.” he sniffs, still only feeling the cold sting of the air.

“I know.” you mutter not once glancing in his direction, only reaching out to take a jar of snake venom from the array of ingredients lining the counter space beside you.

“What are you making anyways and on a Saturday?”

“Vitality potion, for extra credit.” he hums to himself content with just watching you finish up your work which really doesn't take long. You add a few drops of mint sighing contentedly while you put out the fire with a simple incantation. Jungkook watches as you rub at your eyes and easily close the distance between you, your arms wrap around his waist as you nuzzle into his chest relishing in his warmth. A muffled ‘m’tired’ slipping past your lips and tickling his chest where they press to his skin. He hums his reply, hands slipping down your sides pulling soft sighs from you as he slips them under the hem of your hoodie to press chilled hands to your warm hips.

You squeal, trying in vain to wriggle away from him as he muffles his laugh in your neck. He’s quick to pull your body close, before lifting you over his shoulder, hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs to keep you steady. Your giggles are almost manic as you laugh all the way to the bedroom where he proceeds to take full advantage of this early Saturday morning.

Monday morning comes way too soon, and you’re once again seated at a table of your favorite on campus cafe. Though much like always Jungkook is being clingy, scenting your neck while you kill some time before your first class. The frappe you ordered sits untouched, the slush goodness melting into a mess of almost coffee flavored water. It’s a waste of money if you don't drink it now, although you’re also sure Jungkook will polish it off should you leave it be.

“Please stop making people uncomfortable.” you sigh, pressing a palm to his face to push him away before he can bury it back in your neck.

“I’m not making people uncomfortable.” he says with a confused furrow of his brow as he casts a glance around the cafe to catch these so called uncomfortable people. He doesn't see anyone other than a couple of baristas who refuse to make eye contact even with the way his gaze is burning holes into the side of their heads. You don't look the slightest bit amused as you narrow your eyes at him, waiting a beat then two only to realize he really doesn't know. Your heart skips a beat, ‘stupid heart’ you think as it continues to do so the longer he remains oblivious. It’s moments like this that make you think that being with Jungkook is like having a big dumb dog, except you absolutely adore the shit out of him, amongst other things.

He quirks his head the slightest as your brows pinch further together the longer you stare at him, further reminding you of his canine counterpart. There’s this flutter in your tummy, the butterflies that have long since taken residence awaken fluttering about and fanning a flame that is slowly growing, traveling to your face and warming your cheeks. Stupid heart, stupid butterlies, stupid Jungkook and his big stupid beautiful eyes, you curse mentally finally ripping your gaze away from his. It’s all a little too much, so your best course of action is going to class early, you decide standing and making to leave only for his grip on your hand to tighten, one that you had forgotten about.

“Gimme a kiss.” he says around a smirk, it heats your cheeks further as you work to calm the rapid beat of your stupid heart as it bangs against your ribs. You’re almost expecting for your chest to burst open or your heart to spontaneously combust. Luckily neither of those happen as Jungkook leans in close pressing a soft peck to your lips before moving to deepen it. He’s gentle in coaxing your lips apart, much better than your first kiss, taking his time tasting you as he always does...at first. He’s squeezing one of your tight clad thighs in his big hands, a sigh almost slipping past your lips as the warmth of his palm sinks through the material. You pull away abruptly, eyelids fluttering before blinking a few times to clear the sudden haze that clouds your vision. Next to you Jungkook is whining trying his hardest to pull you back in for another kiss, that sly dog.

“I’ll see you later.” you say pressing one last barely there kiss to the corner of his mouth, almost tripping over the threshold on your way out. His gaze follows your figure until you turn the corner disappearing from his sight. He sighs heavily, it’s laced with undertones of fatigue as he reaches for your unfinished frappe.

“You guys are gross.” Yoongi breathes, taking a seat opposite Jungkook. Jimin takes your seat, as Taehyung and Hoseok follow. Hoseok takes the empty seat beside Yoongi while Taehyung pulls up a chair from a neighboring table.

“You’re just jealous my girlfriend is hotter than yours.”

“Sure kid, you go ahead and believe that.” he almost sneers.

“Why are you here so early?” Jimin asks steering the conversation away from girlfriends for now. He’s yawning suddenly, reminded of how little sleep he’s gotten today, school was the worst.

“I came with ____, can’t have her coming all alone y’know.”

“Isn't your first class at the same time as her last?” Yoongi chimes in before asking Taehyung to get him an Americano as the younger man walks over to the counter.

“Yeah, and what?” he sniffs a little defensively.

“It was just a question.” Yoongi deadpans.

“Don’t you and your satan spawn of a twin share all your classes with ____?”

“No, we have classes together Tuesdays through thursdays.” he supplies easily, leaning back in the chair.

“Why not all week?” Hoseok asks in a tone filled with genuine curiosity.

“Monday and Fridays are the hardest days to get out of bed, duh.” he says almost matter of factly and they have to agree with Yoongi on this one. Monday is truly the worst day of the week, though it's now that Jungkook notices the absence of the previously mentioned satan’s spawn. He almost bristles, thinking that Yoonji might be out there somewhere harassing his sweet little girlfriend.

You scream, startled by the sudden weight that presses itself to you, a giggle like purr filling your ears before you relax. Yoonji’s hair brushes your cheeks softly, her arms wrapping around your frame and you squeak at the feel of her hand cupping your chest through the hoodie you wear. It’s a usual occurrence, though no less embarrassing as she continues to snuggle closer to you.

“Did your boobs get bigger?” she asks nose nudging against the soft pudge of your cheek, you know she’s scenting you, her way of messing with Jungkook later when she can’t physically be there.

“No, please stop.” you sigh, feeling a gentle squeeze followed by a soft breathy moan, heat erupting across your cheeks in embarrassment. She snickers giving your ample chest one last squeeze before finally moving away. She falls in step with you, walking along the path, snow crunching underfoot before moving to speak again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, what exactly do you like about Jungkook? I mean sure he’s great, not really, and all but really what is it? Is it his dick game because other than you I don't really think he’s ever been with anyone else.” She asks stuffing her hands in her coat pockets to stave off the slight chill that has zapped all the warmth from her fingers. There’s a brief pause in her thoughts as she wonders if Jungkook uses your impressive rack as the natural hand warmers they are, the lucky bastard she thinks with a scowl.

“I don't know, all of him.”

“That’s too vague an answer, like if I were to ask him what do you think he’d say he likes about you?”

“That I’m just so cute.” you answer almost immediately hands cupping your cheeks as if to further prove that you are in fact cute. The scrunch to her nose is adorable, squishing her already delicate features, as you smile softly at her and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Not that cute, but to each their own I guess. I’ll see you later yeah?” she asks, turning on her heel to walk in the direction you had just come from.

“I’ll be there.” You call after her watching as she raises a single hand to show you she’d heard you.

Yoonji is sliding onto Hoseok’s lap with all the grace of the satan spawn she is, easily wrapping a single arm around his neck and taking a sip from your abandoned frappe. She hums around the straw gaze trained on Jungkook’s bewildered expression, it brings her immense pleasure to see him so distressed.

“Why are you here and what do you think you’re doing?” Jungkook asks, snatching the drink back.

“It was only a sip you’re overacting, besides it’s mostly water now anyways.” She scoffs feeling Hoseok wrap his arms tighter around her waist pulling her closer to him.

“You don’t understand, now my poor ____ has indirectly kissed you. She’s been tainted by your nasty germs, Hobi do something!” Jungkook whines cheeks flushing an unhealthy shade of red, it’s almost endearing how childlike that is of him.

“I don’t think I can do anything, since it’s already happened.” He replies easily long since used to antics and strange rivalry between his girlfriend and Jungkook. Yoonji licks her lips mischievously snickering before shooting a somewhat sultry gaze at Jungkook.

“Hmm, can I ask you something Junglebook?” she says.

“No, in fact I would very much enjoy it if you never spoke again. Yoongi how did the two of you share a womb?”

“I don't know, it just happened, what were you saying Yoonji?”

“It’s not my fault you prefer the fossil over there over me. I’m literally amazing, anyways what do you like about ____?” she asks, ignoring Yoongi’s muttering and the somewhat awkward silence that has settled over the table. Jungkook to his credit doesn't blow this out of proportion as he usually does, so she watches as he sits quietly hands wrapped around the cup. This time there’s a slow flush of color flooding his cheeks, it’s kind of cute in a weird ugly kind of way. It’s not like she found Jungkook particularly attractive, but she guesses she could, maybe if the boy next door was her type.

“I don’t know, she’s just really cute, she looks tiny compared to me, and I don't know, all of her?” the flush has spread to his neck and ears, a look she has to say she’s never witnessed before. Again cute in a gag her romcom kind of way, she would be sick if you hadn't already prepared her for his answer. She still fakes a gag either way destroying the warm bubble he’d created with all his mushy sappy feelings.

“You’re so lame, no wonder you didn't have friends in high school.” she laughs before planting a kiss to Hoseok’s cheek.

“You guys were my friends in high school.” he says, brows pinched together an ugly glare directed at Yoonji who has begun ignoring everyone, so that she can whisper to Hoseok.

“Ignoring Satan and the literal walking ball of sun, what are you doing for Valentine’s day?” Yoongi asks, sounding mildly irritated at the topic he himself has brought up.

“That’s like two weeks away, what does it have to do with us singles?” Jimin laughs resting his chin in an open palm.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t have plans.”

“Valentine’s day is for girls, and again I’m single what would that do?”

“What are you doing for Valentines day Jungkook?” Yoongi asks, turning his gaze to Jungkook who has sat silently from the start. The expression he wears is of confusion, brows pinched as if he were sitting in on a pack meeting full of boomers that didn't understand the world of today.

“Jungkook?” Jimin says catching Jungkook’s attention.

“What is that?” he asks timidly, again silence settles over the group all of them wearing a different expression. It’s broken by Yoonji who literally looks like the cat who ate the canary, it’s truly disgusting and he wishes he never has to see it again.

“Are you serious, you don't know what Valentine’s day is.” she snickers, a little too happily for Jungkook who remains just as confused as he had been before.

"Your girlfriend is human." Jimin says just as unhelpful.

"She's a witch, not a human." he reminds them.

“Witch still lands on the human side of the spectrum.” The conversation is going in circles, he thinks feeling irritation creep into him at the way they all continue to discuss your race.

“Can we please keep this conversation moving? What is Valentines day?” he asks, letting just a tiny bit of irritation seep into his tone.

“It’s a human holiday, made for couples to celebrate love.” Taehyung says, adding to the conversation for the first time this morning and suddenly reminding everyone of his presence. He shrugs off their stare, instead gathering his things and leaving them just as easily as he had joined the conversation.

“Why is a human holiday so important all of a sudden? It isn’t anything like the summer solstice right?” Yoonji looks more and more amused the longer they stay on the topic, lips curling upward into a smile that is both haunting and sort of breathtaking in a sinister steal your soul kind of way. He shivers, deciding then that he’ll pray to the moon goddess for Hoseok’s sanity.

“God you really are out of the loop, poor doggy.” Yoonji laughs sliding into the vacant chair but making sure it’s pressed as close to Hoseok as possible.

“Hoseok, please.” Jungkook breathes, maybe it’s the fatigue that is allowing Yoonji to annoy him quicker than usual or maybe she’s just testing his patience more than usual. Either way he’s distracted by Jimin clearing his throat, always playing the peacekeeper.

“You’re right, it isn't like the summer solstice but for some reason the girls like it. I think humans traditionally give chocolate, small gifts, or do other romantic couple things. This is usually the day most people confess feelings to someone, it’s actually really popular nowadays. I think even my parents celebrate valentine's day.” Jimin says the last bit more to himself than to the others.

“Wait, so do you guys give girls chocolate?” he asks, genuinely interested.

“No, I’ve had people give me friendship chocolate before.” Jungkook can’t seem to wrap his head around the whole chocolate thing at least not right now. Still he wonders if you would like to receive a gift from him. He listens intently as Yoongi and Hoseok talk about a course they’re taking seemingly having forgotten the prior conversation with the departure of Yoonji and Jimin who share an astronomy class.

He’s not forgotten about the conversation later that week while he sits on Jin's couch killing time before he goes home after all you texted him earlier saying that you’d be studying in the library and not to wait up. Jin had been filling him in on the show that’s been playing for the last two hours, one based on eight individuals who all share a birthday and somehow a weird mental connection. Truth be told Jungkook has been staring listlessly at the screen the colors long since blurred as his eyes have lost focus, hazy blobs moving this way and that. The sound has been drowned out almost as if the volume has been turned down while he thinks.

“- Riley to me is the least useful of the cluster, don’t you think?” Jin asks, Jungkook hums along not really hearing what his friend has said.

“Whispers isn’t really a bad guy, and neither is Rajan’s dad, right?” he says this time watching intently as Jungkook hums again leaning further into the couch.

“Jungkook, seriously you aren’t even watching it.”

“I am, Sun is in prison and Joongki must die.” he mutters, blinking a few times before turning his gaze to meet Jin’s.

“What’s wrong, if you’re tired you should go home and get some sleep.” Jin huffs leaning back into the recliner.

“Not tired, just thinking.” he says unconvincingly around a yawn that stretches his mouth a little too wide, suddenly reminding Jin of a lion. They sit in the relative silence for a brief moment, the sounds of another fight scene playing in the background drags Jin’s gaze back to the TV.

“What are you doing for valentines day?” he finally asks, he feels his lips twitch at the way Jin is quick to pause the show.

“Why? Are you going to tell me how much you love me?”

“No, it’s just my first time hearing about it.” he mumbles pouting slightly. Jin wonders how this boy was going to lead a pack when he’s such a child, then again he doesn’t understand werewolf hierarchy all too well.

“Are you planning to celebrate it?” Jungkook stills, once again wondering if you would be happy to receive chocolate as the others had mentioned.

“I don't know maybe, do you think ____ would like it?” Jin can hear the uncertainty in Jungkook’s voice, and for some odd reason he wants to laugh. He shouldn't because it’s rare for Jungkook to really share his feelings with someone that isn't you. Instead he asks himself the same question, would you be happy if Jungkook gave you a gift. It’s hard to imagine with you being reserved and all, but he thinks that you might, if it was behind closed doors in the safety of your own home.

“Yeah, I think she would.” And his answer is worth it he thinks as he watches the way Jungkook’s eyes twinkle with determination at the prospect of surprising you. When Jungkook goes home that night he spends a little too much time doing what he calls ‘research’ completely ignoring the course work that sits beside his laptop on his desk.

The weekend has come again and Jungkook is more than tired between school, and trying to find the best kind of gift he’s stumped and a little miserable. It had snowed again, covering the roads that had already been cleared, what’s more is that you have virtually moved into the library the last week. He’s seen less of you in the past week than he has his whole life, which just makes him more irritable as he drags himself out of bed, hoping, no, praying that you are home today. It’s Saturday after all, and you should be here in bed cuddling him, but you aren’t so he thinks you might be in the sunroom again brewing more potions. He finds it empty, not a single sign that you had been there at all by now he’s beginning to worry.

Slowly he pads back down the hall stopping briefly when he catches a soft almost muted sigh. He recognizes it almost instantly, his gaze falling to the couch as he rounds it to find you curled up underneath a thin lap blanket. You look so comfortable he doesn’t have the heart to move you, so instead he opts for something a little different. Jungkook is quick to leave returning with a heavier blanket and a pillow before he’s slipping his body into the tiny crevice you’ve left between your body and the back of the couch. He’s almost sighing at the way you unconsciously snuggle closer to his warm, he pulls you in closer, tucking your body as close to him as possible but also keeping you both comfortable in the limited space. His eyelids begin to flutter, the past weeks exhausting catching up with him now that he’s found ultimate comfort with you.

When Jungkook wakes again he’s on his back, his pinky finger just barely skimming the sliver of skin exposed by the way your shirt has ridden up. You’ve yet to awaken, brows furrowed in your sleep, your face relaxes when he nuzzles the crown of your head. He cherishes these quiet moments, not that he didn't all the others but these were his favorite. Enjoyed the naturalness of it all, like this you weren’t hiding from others, you weren’t reserved, you were just yourself and he liked that. He briefly wonders what time it might be, when he feels you begin to stur, it always starts off slow. You sigh softly a single puff of air leaving your nose, then you nuzzle into what would usually be your pillow but today it’s Jungkook’s chest, next comes the twitch of your fingers followed by the stretch of your arm, hand seeking the warmth that is usually Jungkook beside you. Instead your hands tangle in the softness of the blanket pulling it closer softly knocking him on the chin as you snuggle into the comfort.

“____, baby it’s time to get up.” he murmurs voice husky from disuse.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Gotta make us some breakfast.” he sighs feeling you shift further before you sit up, your eyes are half lidded, hair mused. The long sleeve your wear is slipping off one of your shoulders, you’re blinking sluggishly, gaze still unfocused but at least you're awake now. His hands find purchase on your thighs, squeezing them slightly so that your gaze meets his.

“You awake yet baby? Need some help?” he asks watching the way you frown down at him before shaking your head, rubbing at your eyes tiredly. His heart squeezes in his chest, a slow heat swirling low in his belly the longer you straddle him. You shift your weight as you stretch, back arched in a way that pulls his gaze to your chest, through the thin material he can make out the stiff peaks of your nipples. There’s a twitch of his fingers as he restrains himself from feeling the soft weight of them in his palms, but there are other things troubling him at the moment. Mostly the way he can feel the heat of your pussy through the thin material of panties as you settle more of your weight on his crotch.

“Breakfast?” you ask, the single word is enough to drag his thoughts back to something fluffy, something softer, less deprived. He squeezes at your thighs again sitting up to press a kiss to your cheek before sliding you off his lap and intertwining your fingers as you follow him to the bathroom.

Jungkook is humming as he sways at the stove chuckling as you squeeze your arms tighter around his waist when he stops swaying. It’s odd for you to be this openly affectionate, even here in the safety of your home mostly because he likes to take advantage of the situations persuading you to do things he would rather keep to himself. Still he can’t say he isn't enjoying himself, at least he was until he hears the door fly open and the telltale muttering of one Min insufferable Yoonji. Your grip tightens further as you press yourself closer almost as if you’re trying to hide from her, but that doesn't make sense, as much as he hates to admit it you two are super close.

“What are you doing?” she asks, and just her tone makes him pause.

“Making breakfast.” he replies before he hears a scoff.

“I wasn't talking to you Junglebook, ____ what are you doing, you were supposed to meet me three hours ago.” she sighs as you whine pathetically against Jungkook’s back rubbing your face into the soft material of his shirt.

“I can’t hear you.”

“M’tired, don't wanna go.” you cry and Jungkook feels heat rush to his cheeks at the tone you use, it reminds him of the way you sound when he’s balls deep in you. He really shouldn't be thinking of that, especially not with that thing you call your best friend around.

“This was your decision, I’m just there for moral support. Now let's go before I catch whatever disease Jungkook carries.” she sniffs, narrowing her eyes when you don’t budge.

“Can’t you at least let her eat breakfast before you drag her away?” Jungkook asks, moving the grilled cheese to the cooling rack glaring at Yoonji over his shoulder. She sighs heavily but silently agrees as she takes a seat at the kitchen island. He can hear the clicks of her keyboard as she typed something into her phone followed by the swoosh of her message being sent. Briefly, and just briefly he wondered who the hell would want to talk to her so damn early. Though he can’t really call afternoon early now can he.

You look sleepy when you’re finally ready to leave after having eaten your weight in bread, cheese, and butter, a look he absolutely adores. Yoonji is standing in the open door typing on her phone again, ignoring the flowery atmosphere that blankets the two of you like some cliche shoujo manga. The way you smile up at him makes his heart flutter, a pleasant wave of warm slowly makes its way through his body as you hug him and he’s planting a kiss to the crown of your head not so subtly scent marking you. It’s only when Yoonji makes an exasperated sound do you two pull away.

“See you later, be safe.” he says smiling in a way that makes your tummy flutter.

“I will.” you almost sigh before Yoonji glares at him once more and pulls you along. With you gone, he has nothing else to do than to look through the possible gifts options he’d bookmarked. There’s so many things to chose from, gourmet chocolates, edible arrangements, teddy bears, flowers, jewelry, spa days, sex? It’s all so much, he’s saved so many links it’s a folder that he’s pinned to his bookmarks bar on his search engine. Maybe he should ask for help, Yoonji wouldn’t help him even if he asked nicely while on his knees, but perhaps Yoongi and Seokjin would. He has to take that chance, and pray to the moon goddess that they’ll offer their insight.

“I can’t help you.” Yoongi says after Jungkook has gathered the most reliable of his friends.

“Why not?”

“Prior engagements, and this if your girlfriend. You should know what she’d like, let me know what you go with.” he says, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck and leaving the oldest and the youngest together.

“Jin please tell me you’ll be more helpful than Yoongi.” he whines, and Seokjin takes pity on him because as much as he hates to say it, he looks like a kicked puppy.

“I can try but it really depends on what you think ____ would like the best.” Jungkook beams at Jin’s willingness to help even if he doesn’t promise anything. He’s quick to pull open his laptop, opening one too many links that have both their heads spinning. Jungkook’s because he’s just so excited to surprise you and Jin is mostly amazed at Jungkook’s thoughtfulness. He switches through tabs, scanning over the things Jungkook has chosen, truth be told he’s not sure if any material items would be any good. He also doesn't like the ridiculous price listed beside the edible arrangements and gourmet chocolates, absolutely gawks at the price next to the jewelry. It’s not like Seokjin doesn’t know what kind of family Jungkook comes from, sure werewolves were a dime a dozen but not Jungkook, he was from one of the founding packs and in being so he was more than well off and that came from a literal prince of the sea such as himself. Still he wonders what kind of craftsmanship could be worth that much, or did Jungkook not care about price? He wants to laugh at the sheer absurdity that is the younger and his lack of care for things such as this, but he supposes that was where he came in.

“What did you have in mind?” Jin asks hesitantly, almost dreading the conversation.

“I don’t know a little of everything.” Jungkook answers sheepishly.

“A bit of everything.” Jin repeats already appalled at the idea. “Maybe you should stick to one, how about flowers?”

“____, do you think she’ll like them?”

“I don't know, i’m sure she’ll be able to use them in her potions.”

“Nevermind, not flowers. Then maybe jewelry?”

“Does ____ wear jewelry?”

“Not really, she doesn’t like being too flashy.” he mumbles.

“What about chocolate?” Jin finally asks, skipping over all the other options for fear of prolonging this dreadful conversation.

“That’s perfect, I should order it right now.” he beams, reaching for the laptop in Seokjin’s grapes but coming up empty when Jin scoots away from him.

“Or, and this is just a thought, but why don’t you make it yourself?” it’s posed as a question, though to Jungkook it sounds more like a statement, a suggestion if you will. One that he doesn’t think sounds too bad after all how hard can making chocolate be? He smiles at Jin, in a way that lets Jin know that it’s finally over. But boy was he in for a trip.

Jungkook had dragged Jin to the closest supermarket, throwing every bar of chocolate into the cart that he could find, even including other ingredients. After the supermarket they’d gone to a craft store for silicone molds, he’d even stopped at a small variety store for what he called cuter molds, because the ones from the craft store were too plain. Truth be told Jin wasn’t too sure what Jungkook would do with all that he had purchased but he knew he’d find some adequate guinea pigs for Jungkook. The younger thanks him with a meal followed by a brief goodbye before heading home to start the process of chocolate making.

As it turns out chocolate making isn’t too hard, but there’s something unsatisfying about melting premade chocolate and filling molds. It’s okay Jungkook supposes as he demolds yet another batch of half strawberry half milk chocolate rilakkuma molds. There are a few more trays of chocolates, some have pocky others have nuts but he’s still dissatisfied paying no mind to them as he dumps the finished chocolates into a tupperware instead of the box he’s intended to pack them in. This was supposed to be a test run, a successful one if they asked him but one that left him thinking that it wouldn't be enough. He heaves a heavy sigh as he finishes pulling the chocolate from the molds, moving to seal the tupperware that held them.

He’s decided then as he’s stacking the containers in a canvas bag that he’s going to Jin’s again he needs more help, but before that he needs to clean up so that you won't come home to this mess. He also doesn't want to risk you finding out what he’s planned as a surprise, he’s so focused on the task at hand he doesn't hear the door. Much less the way you and Yoonji speak animatedly as you make your way further into the house.

“Jungkook what’s this?” you ask giggling the slightest as he flinches at the gentle hand you place on his shoulder. His shock is quickly replaced by something gentle, something that has your brow furrowing. Maybe it’s the way he widens his eyes as he turns his body to face you properly, he used to do this a lot when he was trying to hide something from you back when you were kids. This faux innocent look got him in more trouble than you can remember and you don't like it, especially now.

“Hey baby, I didn't know you’d be home so soon.” he says wrapping you up in a hug. You squirm in his hold trying in vain to get him to loosen his hold on you, which makes you all the more suspicious of what he might be hiding.

“Jungkook, please.” you murmur a little confused as he continues to evade your question from earlier.

“I’m going to Jin’s for a bit. I'll be back with some take out is that okay?” he says instead grabbing the bag and heading for the door. You stare after he’s gone, a little more than confused at what has just transpired.

“Is he going to bring enough for three?” Yoonji asks from her place on the couch the tv playing a reality show you don’t particularly enjoy.

“Why is Hermione always out of breath? It’s like she’s always on the brink of hyperventilating in every scene.” Yoongi asks as he sits beside Jin, a half confused half annoyed expression sitting pretty on his face. To his credit at least he isn't hyper analyzing other aspects of the film, ones that he knows are a lot more pressing than Hermione’s inability to catch her breath. So you would imagine how relieved he is to get the door after a series of knocks, even more relieved to see Jungkook if only for a moment. Jungkook to his credit doesn't look any less different than he did earlier in the day, in fact he looks normal? Maybe he should be worried that Jungkook looks significantly less excited than he was mere hours ago. Jungkook thrusts the bag at Jin before throwing his weight down on the couch beside a very amused Yoongi.

“What is this?” Jin asks, a little too hesitant before recognizing his ‘como se llama’ eco friendly bag.

“Chocolate.” he answers quickly but a little too quietly while Yoongi perks up at the prospect of free candy.

“I thought you said you didn't have my bag,” Jin says pulling out one too many containers “are these my tupperware?” Jungkook remains silent, gaze settled on the tv as Yoongi pulls open one of the tupperware.

“What’s with all the chocolate, kinda cutesy don’t you think?” Yoongi comments offhandedly popping a few pieces into his mouth with a hum.

“They were for ____.” Yoongi pauses mid chew, turning his attention to the younger.

“Why would you give us candy meant for your girlfriend?” he asks around a mouthful of strawberry chocolate hearts.

“It was practice, I didn’t wanna give her homemade chocolates after all.” he sighs, turning his gaze to Jin who still stands beside Yoongi who continues to eat the chocolate.

“Do you have a backup plan?” Jin’s gaze falls to Yoongi who posed the question, he’s glad he wasn't the one who asked. He watches in a weird mix of concern and amusement as Jungkook’s eyes glaze over before he whines.

“No,” he all but sobs looking up at Jin with a tremble to his lip “what if ____ hates me because i didn't give her anything.” It’s so hard to hold in his laughter, Jungkook was being a little dramatic.

“There are other things you can make besides chocolate y’know.” Yoongi sighs, setting the bowl on the coffee table and finally pausing the movie after all he really likes the scene where Harry realizes the patronus he saw was his own.

“Why not bake her something, there are plenty of pastries that use chocolate.” he offers, ignoring the way both Jungkook and Jin gawk at him.

“Is hell freezing over, are you actually offering to help?” Jin gasps a little too dramatically, it makes Yoongi scowl.

“No, you ugly I won't be helping but I might know someone who can.” beside him Jungkook makes a choking noise, one that has both of them casting their gaze in his direction.

“Thank you so much Yoongi, I’ll give you my first born.”

“Keep it, I’ll have enough of my own.” he says, scrunching his nose at the thought of Jungkook’s kids. Jin on the other hand is grumbling at the level of disrespect from a solid 8 when he was in fact a 10, a 10!

“Go home, I’ll text you the information later.” he sighs trying to pacify Jin who continues to list all that makes him a 10 and Yoongi an 8. He does as he’s told, trying his best to slip out so as not to be lumped in with Yoongi even though he was feeling grateful for his hyung. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he’s scowling down at the sole message that lights up his screen.

my moon ♡

➣ don’t forget the takeout, plus extra Yoonji is here :)

He supposes he can deal with Satan just this once, he’s got a good feeling about this.

Jungkook is feeling overwhelmed to say the least, it’s Wednesday and he’s suddenly swamped with course work. To add insult to injury he hasn’t heard a single word from Yoongi who has also somehow gone missing for the last three days following their conversation over the weekend. He’s so tired he’s thinking of skipping his only class for tomorrow, what’s worse is that valentine's day is a week and a half away now and he’s still very much at square one. Luckily he’s at home so he’s free to let out a tear or two of pure frustration, he curses Yoongi for lying to him. What's worse was that he played nice with the she-demon too! Maybe he’s overreacting, there are worse things than not having giving you a gift for some stupid human holiday. Still though, he wanted to make this one memorable, even if it ended up being the only one you celebrated together. Hell you aren’t even here, he’s sure you’re doing it on purpose now.

How much extra credit could one person need, especially when you were one of the top students in your field. If push came to shove he would drag you back if he had too, but right now he just wants to curl up and pretend he didn't care about this stupid holiday. It would seem though that the universe won’t let him throw a pity party because as soon as his eyes fall shut there’s a knock at the door. He ignores it at first hoping it’s just one of his friends and they’ll leave if he doesn’t make a sound. He shouldn't have bet on it, when the knocks continue. It’s funny how urgent they sound, but really he just wants to be left alone. Still he groans, dragging himself off the couch and shuffling to the door with a scowl. The door swings open as he readies to spit nasty words at whoever has interrupted him only to catch a faint whiff of apples. His gaze falls to someone just a head shorter than him, a woman, one he doesn’t recognize.

“Can I help you?” he asks, feeling the chill of the air nip at his nose as he takes a deep breath, catching the scent of a prey shifter species.

“I um, well, are you um, are you Jungkook?” she asks, her gaze easily meeting anything else except his own as he stares. He’s sizing her up, not in a scummy way of course, how could he when he had you, but he doesn't recognize her at all. Nor does her scent smell familiar so he really can't place how he would know her.

“Yes, and you are?” he finally says watching as her nerves seem to settle the slightest, though her heart is still beating a little too loudly for his liking.

“I’m Bunny, Yoongi said you would be expecting me?” she offers up easily though it’s almost a whisper. His features twist into something of confusion, Yoongi said what now? That damned cat had gone MIA, surely this was a prank or something.

“How do you know Yoongi?” He asks instead, watching a shade of rose color the light olive of her cheeks.

“We’re dating.” she mumbles bashfully clenching her hands at her side. Suddenly he recalls pestering Yoongi into letting them meet his girlfriend, and the former almost immediately putting his foot down in a firm no. So really is he at fault he didn't recognize Yoongi’s girlfriend, someone he has never met, until today that is.

“Oh, you’re that Bunny!” he almost howls watching as she flinches at the sheer volume of it. It’s cute really, he takes back what he said about her not being as hot as you, though you will always be number one in his book.

“Yeah, did Yoongi not tell you that I would be here today?”

“I don't think so.” he answers easily, watching the way she scowls more to herself than him, as she pulls her phone out and presses it to her ear.

“You didn't tell him I would be here?” Bunny says after a brief moment. He can slightly hear what he assumes is Yoongi’s voice though it's more muffled than anything.

“But Yoonie you said you would tell him. No, I was on time. Are you sure you texted him? Yoongi! Okay, you owe me big time. Promise? Okay, love you.” she finishes hanging up with a sigh, the rose on her cheeks is darker bordering more on red now.

“Sorry about that, Yoongi was supposed to send you my schedule. He said you needed help with baking a pastry?” she says with a smile sweetly at him.

“Wait, you're the someone he knows?” she tilts her head slightly brows furrowed at his words.

“I guess I am, can I come in or is this a bad time?” He’s quick to step aside, showing her to the living room and offering her something to drink. It’s odd to be alone with another woman, one who is very much not single but still weird since he’s never done it before. It’s almost off putting, so much so he feels a growl building in his chest. He really shouldn't be so guarded, especially when she is harmless and seems to have no ill intentions. He’s placing a cup of tea before her taking the seat adjacent to her as she smiles warmly at him.

“So what did you have in mind?” she asks, not unkindly pulling a notepad from her bag and resting it in her lap while she waits for his answer.

“I’m not entirely sure, I just know it has to be something with chocolate.”

“That narrows it down a bit, do you want something more elegant or simplistic?”

“Simplistic, my girlfriend doesn’t like things that are too flashy.” he sighs thinking of you and the easy smile you give him when you're eating sweets. It eases his nerves the slightest, as Bunny takes note of this.

“This almost seems like a therapy session, what with you sitting here taking notes and all.” he says to break the gentle scritch scratch sound of her pen on paper. She pauses, a small hesitant smile on her lips as she moves to meet his gaze.

“Truth be told I’m a little nervous, you’re aura is a little intimidating.” she chuckles, grip tightening on her pen. He can see the reasoning behind her words after all werewolves very rarely interacted out of their species even amongst the supernatural.

“You shouldn’t be, I’m house trained after all.” he’s amused as a flurry of giggles flee her being, and she tries in vain to stifle them. After that she seems to relax, easy narrowing down their options to a devil's food cake or a chocolate tart. He likes the idea of a tart so it’s with a little glee that he makes his decision.

“I’ll be here tomorrow at the same time and we can get started.” she says as she gathers her belongings while he shows her out. He’s excited to say the least a little more than he was when he was with the chocolate. So he guesses that in the end Yoongi was a least a little helpful.

True to her word Bunny is at his door at the same time as the previous day and Jungkook is more than happy to let her in, even taking some of the shopping bags out of her hand. He isn’t quite sure how he’ll do, but he is confident in his ability to try. After her departure and a stressful amount of time spent doing school work you had come home, sans Yoonji of course and you’d cuddled before he’d made the two of you a light dinner. Even after he’d spent too many hours reading over a single chocolate tart recipe, so much so he probably knew it by heart.

“I brought enough ingredients to make room for trial and error. You don’t have to be good at it from the get go, just follow the recipe okay?” she says in a voice that is oddly calming, he wonders briefly if she uses it on Yoongi. He nods his head in confirmation tying an apron around his waist as she does the same. She’s quick to take the reins, directing him in the tasks, and helping him when he asks for it. She says that they’ll be working in pieces, cutting the recipe in half for now as she whisks the ice water and egg yolk while Jungkook mixes the dry ingredients with butter.

“Making the dough is easy, the baking part is what usually takes a while to get right. I’m sure you’ll do fine, after all Yoongi has told me you’re a great cook.” she offers still whisking the egg and water.

“This is actually my first time baking in a while, I’ve found that I’m not that good at it.” he laughs.

“Really, your girlfriend must be very special. It’s actually kind of romantic.” He offers her a smile as they move to the next step. As it turns out Bunny is a very good teacher, helpful and patient when Jungkook thinks he might’ve messed up the dough. He learns that she’s studying to be a preschool teacher, and that one day she hopes to have a litter of her own. A soft rouge settles on her cheeks after she had divulged that tidbit of information before she asks him what his course of study is and his dreams for the future. The dough is now chilling in the refrigerator as they wait, so he supposes he can indulge her if only a bit.

“I’m doing pack management, an easy degree for someone like me.”

“Yoongi said you were loaded and I didn't believe him, but i guess it’s true.” she laughs.

“I guess that’s one way to look at it, I just want to be a good Alpha.”

“How about pups? Do you want any?”

“Of course, I want a whole pack full of my pups. I just have to marry my mate first.” She seems to perk up at this, a smile splitting her features.

“Marriage, have you asked her yet?” she asks a little too giddy for his liking but he feels a blush color his cheeks regardless.

“Not yet, I don’t think it’s the right time.” She nods her head in understanding, before pressing him for any dirt he has on Yoongi. All in all the first lesson goes smoothly, well except for the fact that he over cooks one of the tart shells and burns the other. She reminds him that there is still room for improvement, which somehow settles his nerves. He agrees with her after all there are still nine days left before the 14th.

He manages to get the tart shell perfect seven days before valentine’s day, which means he has a week to learn how to make the filing and how to put it all together. He’s feeling a little more stressed than usual with midterms coming up and your virtual lack of presence over the last few days. Really he’s starting to wonder just what is keeping you away from home all these days especially when you easily redirect his attention any time he asks. Maybe he’s overthinking it, it could really just be school work. He’s hissing, as the knife he’s using to chop the semi sweet chocolate slices through his middle finger. Luckily for him Bunny is quick to usher him away from the island and towards the sink. She wraps a bandage around his cut offering him a rubber glove to cover his bandaged hand before she wipes down the blood that had leaked onto the counter.

“Are you okay?” she asks a little too hesitantly for someone who he has become quick friends with.

“Yeah, I was just stuck in my thoughts.”

“We can always take a break, we have time.” She reminds him again, moving to clean up before leaving him alone and saying that he deserves a break from not only school but baking too. With Bunny gone he has some time to himself, time to think, to cool down and let his rational mind take control of the rampant nasty thoughts rearing their ugly little heads. To his credit he’s never once thought that you would cheat on him, it just wasn't in your personality to do so. He knew that you wouldn’t, but he really can't help letting his head tell him otherwise. Still he would know if you were, his wolf would feel it and he’s yet to cause a commotion. He decides then that he’s overthinking it, there’s a high chance that you’re just off doing god knows what with Yoonji. He doesn’t like that either but it’s still better than what the little voice in his head is saying.

Five days from Valentine's Day, he and Bunny are making the filing for the tart. He’s once again chopping semi-sweet chocolate listening to her as she tells him the next step. She’s made the tart shells beforehand so it would be easier on him so as to relieve some of the pressure for a perfect tart. He’d thanked her for the consideration when she’d arrived, which led to now as he combined heavy cream, milk heating to a low simmer before he mixed in the chopped semi sweet chocolate. He added sugar and watched as Bunny beat the eggs needed to finish the filing. The only thing left to do was stir the eggs into the chocolate mixture before pouring it into the tart shell and baking it again. With a timer they set out to clean up, before Bunny excuses herself telling him to try the tart with some friends and if he needed any further help she was only a phone call away. With her departure he’s quick to call up Jimin and Taehyung asking them rather cryptically if they wanted to come over. To his surprise they showed up rather quickly and they brought Namjoon along.

“Smells good in here.” Jimin comments.

“Really good, what are you making?” Taehyung adds.

“Are you baking?” Namjoon asks, catching the attention of the other two.

“I am, don’t tell ____. I need you to taste test it for me.” he says quickly, moving to run his fingers through his hair as his nerves kick in again.

“Cool.” Taehyung laughs, throwing his weight down on the couch before turning the TV on to show with a female assassin who’s in love with a woman from MI6. Jungkook gnaws on his lip as he watches from the kitchen, silence falls over the four of them as they watch the events unfold on screen. Jungkook is surprised at Taehyung's choice, mostly because he very rarely enjoys anything the former recommends. Since he prefers shows he can use as background noise that he doesn't have to pay much attention to. But this one is good, it’s interesting enough he barely hears the timer go off. None of the others move, gaze trained on the show as the blonde assassin plays a prank on her retainer. He likes the relationship between the retainer and the assassin, in fact he likes them a lot more than the lady from mi6. The tart is warm in his oven mitted hand, and smells amazing if he does say so himself. The shell is golden brown and the filing looks just as beautiful as he’d seen in the pictures. But he’s still not in the clear just yet, he still needs his taste testers to give him the green light.

The nervous flutter of butterflies has returned, swirling in the low of his belly as he leaves the tart to cool. He’s gone back to gnawing on his lip, thoughts running rampant that maybe it won’t be good enough, perhaps Bunny had been lying to him, maybe this would be a disaster. He tastes blood, the skin of his inner lip torn open by all the anxious gnawing, he swipes his tongue over the wound letting the coppery taste linger the longer he sits in his pool of self imposed anxiousness. The sounds of the TV are muffled, the images blurring as his gaze grows unfocused the longer he sits and waits, there’s something about the waiting that gets to him. His gaze slowly falls to the tart as it cools to the side, his brows furrowing as he looks at it.

“Oh are you cutting it?” Jimin asks, gaze focused on Jungkook and the knife he holds in hand. He can barely manage a nod, watching just as silently as his friends crowd him at the counter as he cuts them all a slice. He doesn't wait for them to take a bite, watching his fork easily cut through the chocolate and the shell hearing the soft clink of the metal on ceramic. He slowly brings the fork to his lips, and when he finally takes a bite he almost weeps.

He wakes up to you snuggled into him, an arm and leg slung over his body to keep him close. To his surprise you don’t have anything to do that day you offer up when he asks what your plans for the day are. He tries to hide the way he freezes at your revelation, after all you’d both been busy leading up to today. Finally the holiday is here and he was ready to prepare your gift while you’re out but this has thrown him for a loop. He counts himself lucky that it’s a weekend before he shoots a text to Jin asking to borrow his kitchen and that he would be more than happy to offer compensation for said favor. Jin easily agrees, reminding him that if he wanted to use it he had to be there before five since he had a date. The real pain is having to leave you when he finally has you to himself, he has to physically force himself to leave you alone with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to be back early.

Time seems to fly by, because when he finally reaches Jin’s after what he thought was a quick trip to the supermarket the sun hangs lower in the sky than when he’d left. Jin greets him at the door, as he comes through bags in hand, before he rushes to the kitchen. To his surprise Namjoon is here, and he offers a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, taking note of the way Namjoon is dressed up.

“Jin and I have dates in the human realm, thought it’d be easier to catch a ride with him.” Namjoon says with a shrug.

“Aren’t you afraid of biting them?”

“You’d be surprised how many humans are into that.” Namjoon laughs, catching the look Jin gives him.

“Anyways, we have some time before we head out. I can help you if you need it.” Jin offers, tying an apron around his waist. Jungkook beams at the older, grateful for the help even though he’s determined to do all the work himself he’s more than happy his friends offer the help. The motions come easily, the dough and the filing are easy enough to do now after he has practiced. He makes a mental note to send Bunny a thank you gift and he supposes Yoongi too. Namjoon offers idle chit chat to fill the silence as he compliments the tart Jungkook had made all those days ago, saying how he’d been thinking about it often, he even goes far enough to say he would pay to have Jungkook make him one. The three of them laugh, Jin taking slight offence refusing to be upstaged by the youngest. Some odd hours later the tarts are done, one for you, one for Jin as thank you and one for Namjoon who looks more excited over the pastry than the date.

“Thanks for the tart, I hope she likes it.” Jin says as he locks his door leading Namjoon to his car. The drive home is a calming, classical music filling his ears as he lets his frenzied mind unwind. He thinks that he shouldn't be worried, he knows you and that is enough to finally calm the nervous flutter of butterflies in his tummy.

It would seem the butterflies have returned as Jungkook stands awkwardly on the porch, canvas bag in hand. His heart beats against his ribs too violently he’s afraid there’ll be bruising, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous in his whole life, perhaps it’s the holiday, truly he isn’t quite sure. He recalls Jimin saying that Valentine’s Day was made to celebrate love, while Yoongi said it was capitalism but he liked the thought of celebrating love better. Jungkook was a sap like that, and what better way to celebrate love than to give you something that he’d worked hard to make to show you, his one and only how much you meant to him? It’s this thought that finally frees the butterflies, setting them free from the confines of his belly taking his nervousness with them. Still he takes a deep breath before he finally enters his home.

“Hey you’re here!” you beam at him from down the hall. He takes in the dress you wear, something loose and flowery but still form fitting enough it hugs all his favorite parts. His gaze however remains on the apron you wear, something frilly and cutesy he’s never seen before.

“I am, are you cooking?” he asks, unable to help the way his tone fluctuates the slightest on the last word. There’s this bashful smile spreading your lips, tugging them upward ever so slightly it makes his heart skip a beat.

“I am, come and sit I’m almost done.” he does as he’s told, taking in the absolutely decadent scent of food. You fuss over him, taking the bag from him and setting it gently on the counter. He’s seated at the table chin resting on an open palm watching you work. It’s nice he thinks, especially seeing you dressed up for something as simple as dinner. Still it’s a welcomed change, a sudden furrow settling on his brow as he remembers you aren’t a particularly good cook and as such usually refrain from doing so.

“Hey, where’d you learn to cook?” he asks.

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but if you must know I had Yoonji and Yoonji teach me how to make you something special.” you say shooting him a smirk over your shoulder, it stirs something in his belly something that he struggles to tamp down.

“Oh yeah, special occasion?” he teases with an easy smile.

“Just wanna spoil my man.”

“Hmm, lucky him, wonder where he’s at.” you gasp dramatically. Turning off the stove while pointing tongs at him.

“I do too, he’s very charming, cute smile, big, y'know all the things a girl likes?” she sighs as his cheeks pinken at the unexpected praise.

“You think I’m big?”

“Of course baby.” you simper, plating the food before cutting up the steak. He smirks as you saunter over placing the plate before him leaning up as you lean down to plant a soft kiss to his lips. He hums as you nibble at the skin of his lips, one of his hands moving to squeeze your hip before you pull away. You take your seat opposite of his, careful to remove the apron and setting it aside.

“Go ahead, dig in.” you say watching with rapt attention as he takes a bit of the steak and some greens. His gaze never leaves yours even as he takes a bite, letting the taste wash over his tongue. You smile so wide eyes sparkling as he groans, the savory bite of meat melts on his tongue, and he finally looks away.

“Oh god, what did they teach you?” he asks around a mouthful, quick to dig in as you giggle softly.

“Enough, Yoonji said you should be grateful she taught me well and that this was her one good deed for the year.” you laugh chewing the bite of steak. He nods his head, it seems he’ll be indebted to her.

“So this was the prior engagement Yoongi had mentioned.” he says more to himself than you.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, this is really good. My compliments to the chef.” He loves the way you smile at his compliments. The rest of dinner goes by much the same, the two of you exchanging teasing words in between bites and soon enough you're doing the dishes. You’re drying them as Jungkook rinses, resting comfortably close to one another when you spot the canvas bag that Jungkook had come home with.

“What’s in the bag?” you ask turning to look up at him taking the last dish from him to dry it.

“What bag?”

“The one you came home with, what’s in it?” you ask again as you dry your hands. He turns to see the bag, and suddenly he’s reminded of the tart.

“Oh, you go sit on the couch, it's a surprise.” he says spinning you in the direction of the couch smacking your ass playfully when you don’t budge. You flinch slightly as the mild sting, moving towards to take a seat on the couch as he says. It’s not long before he’s settling beside you as you look down at his hands to see a single slice of chocolate tart topped with whipped cream. Your brows furrow, lips twitching as you fight a smile.

“I made this for you, happy valentine’s day.” he says bashfully, chuckling softly when your gaze shoots up to meet his.

“Jungkook, you didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted too, besides it’s mostly self indulgent.” he whispers leaning into you to slot his lips against yours. He breathes in your sigh, tilting his head the slightest to deepen the kiss relishing in the taste of you before he pulls away.

“You taste like steak.” you giggle while he simply rests his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, well then I’d say we taste the same.” He pecks you once, twice, three times sighing when he finally pulls away taking the fork and bringing up a small portion of the tart to your lips.

“Open up baby.” he breaths eyes half lidded watching intently as your lips part ever so slightly wrapping around the pastry teeth scraping over the fork to catch every last bit. The rich taste of the chocolate washes over your tongue. You moan slightly blinking sluggishly as you savor the taste of the creamy filling parting your lips for more. Jungkook's pants feel tight as he feeds you more, each bite you take is more painful as he finally lets his mind wander. Let’s himself think of all those nasty little things he’d been holding back for a little too long.

“Need you baby.” he breathes, moving to take your bottom lip between his teeth. You whimper softly pressing yourself closer to him as much as you can. He’s quick to set the plate aside pulling you onto his lap, pulling you down by the hips so you can feel him press against you right where you need him. He swallows you gasp as he gently thrusts his hips up into you, teeth nipping at your lip again because he just needs to feel you.

“Want you Kook, please.” you murmur against his lips as he slowly trails them to your jaw and neck. He hums hands squeezing your thighs with a muffled groan as he slides them under the hem of your skirt, finger slipping into the waistband of your panties and giving a swift tug.

“Want these off baby.” you nod eagerly shakily sliding off his lap to quickly pull them off as he rids himself of his pants and boxers. His hands find your thighs again, squeezing as he pulls you to straddle his lap once more. Your fingers knot themselves in his hair, tugging slightly to tilt his face up for another kiss, mewling as he slides his fingers through your folds spreading your slick and rubbing your clit in small tight circles. You buck your hips as heat swirls in your belly, sighing shakily as his fingers dip into your heat.

“So wet for me, how bad d’you want it?” he breathes, nuzzling your cheek as your fingers tighten in his hair.

“So bad, kook plea- oh!” you squeal as his sinks a finger further into you, pumping it slowly as he eases in a second finger in beside it basking in the way you clench around them whimpering as you drop your hips with every upward stroke of his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just a little more, don’t wanna hurt you.” he sighs feeling his cock twitch as he thinks about being buried in your warmth.

“Need you, please.” Your hips grind into his palm crying out as he pulls his fingers from your heat, soothing you with soft bites to your shoulders.

“Shh, I got you, s’okay, ready for me?” he asks, not really expecting an answer. He spreads your arousal as he gives his cock a few pumps before he lines himself up to your opening.

“Deep breath okay, yeah just like that.” It’s a tight fit as he slowly pushes into your warmth, you groan into his ear at the stretch, twitching as he buries himself deeper. There are tears in your eyes as you clench around his girth, crying out as he grinds your hips into his. You can't take it, can almost taste your release as he continues to grind your hips into his as he whispers soft praise into your skin. His grip on your hips loosens, breath ragged as you continue to grind down on him feeling your walls flutter around his length. Your panting broken incomprehensible words, one’s he recognizes easily as your plea for help. His palm comes down on your ass, the sharp smack accompanied by your gasp when he thrusts into you. He only manages a few pumps of his hips before you wail, clenching around his cock so tightly it almost pains him to just sit and let you ride out the wave of your orgasm. Your body has grown slack against him, head buried in his neck as he rubs at your back.

“Are you tapping out on me?” he chuckles into your skin grunting as you twitch in his lap, squeezing your thighs closer.

“Gimme a sec.” you murmur sleepily, lips ghosting over the mole on his neck. He’ll give you all the time you need because you won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Happy valentines day, baby.” he growls when he feels you begin to rock your hips easily lifting you both off the couch and making his way to your bedroom.

“I can't, it's too much.” You cry.

“It’s okay, just a little more.” Jungkook reassures you softly.

“P-please s’too much.” The sob that you let out is whiny, bordering on distressed. Yoonji’s cheeks heat the longer she stands in the hallway, maybe she should’ve announced her entrance instead of barging in. Perhaps if she did she wouldn’t have walked in on you and Jungkook fucking in the kitched.

“That’s it, good girl, that’s perfect.” he sighs followed by your whine, and so Yoonji decided she should just leave. After all there was no use in interrupting if it meant being scarred by the image of her friends mid fuck. She definitely didn't need to see Jungkook’s tiny weiner, gross she thinks closing the door as gently as she can and leaving them blissfully unaware of her accidental presence.

“I hate cutting onion.” you cry when Jungkook cups your face and plants a few kisses to your lips.

“I know baby, but you wanted to learn.” he laughs as you grumble to yourself and he sweeps you up into a hug.

“So should we move on?” he asks, watching you nod excitedly, he’s equally excited to see what the future holds. It may have taken some time and more than ten ounces of semi sweet chocolate but eventually Jungkook learned that you would be the sweetest thing in his life.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jeongguk x reader #emm writes #an emm writes production #emms jungkook content #collab fic #x reader #bangtanedu #bangtanarmynet #heartsforbtsnet #tbh I might’ve dragged this on a little too much #this might be a clusterf*ck of a fic #long fic #mine writings #seriously I have no idea why it’s 12.4k #ah ranting in the tags as usual #read all the other fics they’re probably better than this #okay I’m done #hope you liked it and please excuse all the spelling mistakes

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gomgeomeogmeogmy · 4 years ago

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To make up for the Charlie/Cameron angst the other day, have some Charlie and Cam friendship headcanons

Constant messages back and forth that are basically just “hey stupid bitch I miss you and I hope you’re having a good day.”

They show each other love by bullying

Charlie bullies Cameron 24/7 but if one person even so much as looks at Cameron wrong he will beat their ass

They have a code word that they say/text each other if they are in a bad situation or if they need backup in a lie

Cameron will lie for Charlie whenever Charlie gets in trouble with the school because every teacher loves Cameron and believes him about everything

Charlie leaves Cameron “secret” notes of encouragement in his books when he knows Cams been having a hard time

If Cameron is up late studying, Charlie will always wake up early and get him coffee and leave it on his desk with a little note

Cameron is really good at getting Charlie to relax/take a break if he’s studying and pushing himself too hard

He usually just makes up some lie about something he needs to go do and says he wants company just so Charlie gets a break

They both have a bad habit of staying up super late and falling asleep in awkward places

When they find each other in said places, they either carry each other to bed or they will put blankets over them where they are already sleeping

They have each other’s orders for every fast food/drink place memorized

Charlie is actually really good at helping Cameron study

They are about the same size/height so they will sometimes accidentally wear each other’s sweaters/hoodies when they have to rush and get ready

Both of them constantly check in with each other to make sure that they’ve both eaten something and drank some water

Cameron knows Charlie hates drinking plain water so whenever he goes to the store he picks up a few propel waters or water flavoring packets so Charlie still gets hydrated

If Cameron is getting too stress/wound up while studying, Charlie will turn on music they both like and make Cameron dance with him

Cameron will help Charlie cheat on tests as a last resort

Cameron knows that Charlie has a lot of insecurities, so if he sees that Charlie is struggling extra hard with them and is being hard on himself, he’ll make sure to be extra nice to him and tell him how much Cameron appreciates him

and he will hurt anyone who dares to be mean to Charlie on those days, without hesitation (and in general, they’re both very protective)

They both randomly buy each other gifts

If either of them are being hit on and are super uncomfortable with it, the other will jump in and pretend to be his boyfriend

Cameron was one of the first people Charlie officially came out to

If Cameron’s feeling the pressure from his parents, school and other people and is freaking out, Charlie will hug him and hold him until he feels better

Cameron will always do the same for Charlie, even though he isn’t the best at comforting people he always tries and Charlie appreciates it more than he can say

Goodnight hugs, every single night. Charlie will yell at and harass Cameron if he dare forgets until he gets his goodnight hug

Charlie bought them matching build-a-bears with matching outfits and everything

Cameron bitched about it alot, but he sleeps with it right next to him every night

“Why did you get me a teddy bear? I’m not 5. No no no you will not take it back he is mine, don’t touch him.”

#dead poets society #deadpoetsociety #dps headcanons #charlie dalton #richard cameron #steven meeks #stephan meeks #neil perry #todd anderson #gerard pitts #knox overstreet #john keating #mr keating

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kagsluvr · 4 years ago

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hq boys as things my exes/flings did pt.2

a/n: i swear these scenarios probably make it seem i was in such happy relationships but nooo never that, (i’m exaggerating some of these, but it’s fine since the boys would definitely do these for you with no complication :D) anyway here's a pt. 2 no one asked for but i felt like writing anyway cuz i couldn’t sleep last night lol <3

part one here

- kageyama tobio will always appreciate a nice set of nice, healthy nails. he probably cares about your nails more than you do yourself. when he’s playing with your hands, he especially likes to rub against your nails, making sure they’re in the best condition possible. he will most definitely take you to the nail salon every two or three weeks for you to get them professionally cleaned and painted (if you want). and he always pays for it. he doesn’t ever let you pay for them lol. “no let me, please” he always says, with a baby pout on his face and of course, you let him.

- miya osamu will bake sweets for you all the time. chocolate chip cookies, fudge brownies, lemon cupcakes (they’re fucking good), you name it. you never asked him once to bake something for you, he just does it as a symbol of affection. he knows how much you love it too. he saw it in your face. the first time you took a bite of his homemade matcha brownies, your eyes widened and you began to chew slower, savoring the flavor of every single bite. this made him very happy, taking it as a sign to give you more of his love-filled desserts.

- iwaizumi hajime will always carry your textbooks for you. he never lets you carry them yourself no matter how much you insist. the book could just be a skinny soft-covered math workbook, and he would still snatch it from your hands to hold it for you as you guys make your way to the cafeteria. before you guys started dating, when you were still friends, you complained a lot about how your next year’s classes were going to assign such thick and heavy textbooks. well he remembered this and couldn’t be more than happy to be dating you now so he could perform the chivalrous act of carrying your books.

- sugawara koushi will always allow you to take the only available seat in a crowded bus or train. he stands up next to you, one hand holding the railing above his head and the other holding yours. he even offers you one of his airpods, as you both listen to music, slightly tuning out the conversations between other passengers and the rusty noise of the moving train. although, there are still many instances where there’s two seats available next to each other.

- yamaguchi tadashi will make a ton of playlists for you. will make playlists full of songs that remind him of you, or will make some full of song recommendations. occasionally he would just come across a song he really likes and would get too excited to add it to a playlist to send to you later on, so he would just send it to you right away. you both have a wide music taste range and along the way, you guys tend to share a lot of favorite artists. he will also listen to and appreciate the tunes that you send to him, which makes you incredibly happy.

- ushijima wakatoshi will surprise you with little things that remind him of you. whether its a bouquet of flowers or a pocket sized hand sanitizer of your favorite scent. he remembers every little detail you tell him about yourself and casually gifts you anything that he associates you with. he recently bought you a vanilla cupcake candle because he remembered you telling him how your 12th birthday was your favorite because you had vanilla cupcakes as one of the party treats and they tasted out of this world. then ever since, vanilla cupcakes have been your favorite dessert.

- tsukishima kei will always tie your shoes whenever you’re with him. you guys will walk down the hallway or will be your way home from school and he’ll be the first one to notice the dangling shoelaces of yours flopping around each time you take a step. he stops you in your tracks and bends down to knot them - not as tight as you’d think he would. he does this shit on purpose, just so the laces can become loose enough to untie itself again, only for him to do the same thing again, even if it’s only been like five minutes since that last time he tied it.

- sakusa kiyoomi will practically beg you to wear his hoodies and sweaters. which you don’t mind at all. almost every morning, he’ll approach you, offering a freshly washed jacket to wear, even though you already have one on. he insists and of course, you accept it. the comfort of walking around school in a jacket slightly bigger than yours makes you feel extra warm. your parents don’t like it when you wear other people’s clothes, so at the end of the day, you give back his jacket. this works out perfectly for him since he gets to wash them immediately when he gets home, ready to hand you another one the next day.

---

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hq #hq x y/n #hq x gender neutral reader #kageyama x reader #osamu x y/n #iwaizumi x you #sugawara x y/n #yamaguchi hcs #ushijima x reader #tsukishima x reader #sakusa headcanons #hq fluff #hq headcanons #haikyuu headcanons

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strawberriestyles · 5 years ago

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Watermelon Sugar (High)

Your relationship with Harry is fairly new, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t use a little extra flavor.

Word count: 4.3k

Author’s note: Here’s my piece for @hsogolden‘s Fine Line Fic Challenge!! I had this idea almost immediately after I heard the song for the first time and then Brianne posted the challenge and it just worked out SO perfectly. I know it’s been quite some time since I’ve posted a one shot. I hope y’all like this. Please, forgive me and let me know what you think!! Xx

For the first time this year, snow has begun to blanket the ground. It’s pretty as it falls, but it’s turned into slush on the roads and the cold has frozen patches of slick ice at the edges of intersections. Instead of the typical twenty minutes it takes you to get home from work, you were on the streets for nearly an hour, narrowly avoiding collisions.

The heat of your apartment is a relief as you rush through the doorway, a package clutched in your arms, toeing off your boots at the edge of the rug. Already, it’s grown dark outside, and the front hall is unnavigable without any lights on. You stumble over a discarded bag as you flip a switch with your elbow. With this newfound light, you dump your things on the bench directly across from the front door and carry the box you found outside, addressed to you, down the hall and into the kitchen.

You reach into the kitchen drawer beside the sink and pull out a pair of scissors, using one of the blades to slice into the tape running the length of the box. Then you drop the shears on the counter and peel back the cardboard flaps. There are layers of baby pink tissue paper cushioning the contents of the package and it crinkles between your fingers as you dig beneath it.

If anyone else was around, you would have to hide your face. There, at the bottom of the box, wrapped in transparent plastic, are three pairs of sheer panties, a glittery black mesh bra, and a lingerie set complete with garters and clips and elastic straps. You’d forgotten about the order you placed nearly two months ago at a party your friend threw. You hadn’t even been inclined to purchase anything, but the pressure you felt to support the hostess had forced you to cave.

You set the plastic-wrapped garments on the counter and drop the box onto the kitchen floor, but something rattles around in its depths. Tissue paper tears as you squat down to slide your hand along the bottom cardboard panel. A smaller, glossy box is hiding in the corner. When you pull it from beneath the tissue paper, it looks like the packaging for a tube of lipstick. The box is hot pink, almost red, with bright green script that reads High, and in smaller letters above the word, Watermelon Sugar.

It takes a few flips of the box for you to realize that it’s a lubricant. You are completely sure that you did not order this. So sure that you’re ready to toss it in the trash or send it right back to the return address. You have the box hanging over the garbage before you remember.

A free sample. The consultant has said something about receiving a free sample when you spent a certain amount. But this? A fruit-flavored lube? You’re not sure about this.

After a moment of hesitation, you close the trash can and begin to peel back the tiny cardboard flaps at one end of the box. You pull out a clear plastic tube filled with pink gel, a pump on one end. Silver lettering sparkles in the kitchen light.

What are you to do with this?

Physically, of course, you understand its purpose. But the idea of it makes your skin hot, even with the chilling press of winter upon your apartment’s windows. After all, your relationship is new and fresh. It’s too early for this.

Harry.

The thought jolts you from your train of consciousness. He’s supposed to be coming over for takeout and a movie tonight. When you glance at the clock and see that it’s already past the time you agreed upon, you tense. Perhaps he’s been slowed by the slick roads the same way you were.

Then there’s a soft knock upon the door. You hear it sliding across the rug in the entryway and Harry’s, “Hey, love! ‘S me.”

You panic as the door closes. Harry is stamping snow off of his boots. You rush back across the kitchen and begin stuffing plastic-wrapped underwear back into the box on the floor, covering it in shreds of pink tissue paper, burying your bottle of watermelon-flavored lube at the bottom.

“Whatcha got there?” Harry asks as he rounds the corner from the hallway.

Your back is turned to him and your fingers fumble with the flaps of the box as you shut it. Air spills from your lips in relief.

“It’s—um—a Christmas present,” you rush, spinning around with the box propped in the crooks of your elbows.

Harry peers at you from beneath locks of snow-dampened hair. There are still clumps of ice stuck to the ends by one temple. He has his hands tucked into the front pocket of his green hoodie and his toes wiggle against the floorboards from within thick woolen socks. You’re sure you look frazzled by comparison.

“For me?” he ponders, eyes lighting up as his face stretches into a delighted grin. “Can I take a peek?”

“Absolutely not.”

It’s then, when you’ve reeled in your utter panic and allowed your gaze to drift across the kitchen, that you find your mistake. The lubricant package—bright pink and glossy and obnoxious—is still standing on the countertop above the trash. Light glares off of its surface. You try to keep your demeanor as calm as possible.

“Just one little look? Like, one second. An’ then yeh can cover my eyes.”

“Uh, no.”

“Yeh’re sure?”

You’re creeping sideways across the kitchen, your eyes now trained on Harry, with his alarmingly mischievous smirk. He’s following you and his strides are larger than yours, even if you weren’t shuffling.

“Please, just—”

“Because I don’ like surprises, love.”

You’re there, sliding the larger box into a single arm and reaching behind you blindly with the other hand. But Harry is right in front of you, leaning down to press a featherlight kiss to your hairline, his hand snaking over the countertop. You spit out a sharp protest, but he has the lubricant package balanced between his fingers and he’s already across the kitchen, leaning against the sink, tilting the box to read it in the sparse light.

“Watermelon sugar?”

Your skin feels hot and clammy and your feet have been glued to the floorboards. There’s a furrow in his brow as his eyes scan the text, and then you watch as his expression shifts, as his eyes widen ever so slightly, as his jaw ticks.

“It’s not a Christmas present,” you mutter, dry-throated. “It’s a sample. It came with an order.”

Harry’s gaze flickers to you and then back to the pink box. His thumb traces the embossed words along its surface.

“What did yeh order, then?”

If you could be swallowed up by the earth, this would be the moment for it. You did not order any of the items you’re holding for Harry, or even with Harry in mind. You had only been on a single date with him at that point, and not a very promising one. He’d spilled red wine all over your new sweater and scratched the corner of your car trying to back out of your apartment complex’s parking lot. It’s incredible to see how your dynamic has shifted. But your sex life is even newer than your relationship.

You clear your throat and press your lips together. “Uh, just underwear.”

Harry finally looks at you, and his face seems brighter, though there’s not even a hint of a smile playing at his mouth. “‘S in there?”

You nod faintly, and he tosses the carton he’s holding across the counter, where it tumbles to a stop beside the stove.

“Let’s see.”

“Harry...” Your arms tighten instinctually around the box.

“I mean, yeh don’ have to, of course. But I’d love if yeh showed me.”

“Just quick?”

His smirk finally returns, though his eyes have darkened and his hands have curled themselves around the edge of the sink. The light above the window casts his face in shadowed shapes.

“Would prefer if I could see ‘em on yeh.”

“And if I don’t wanna put them on?”

��Fair enough.” He studies your face and then frowns. “Am I pushin’ yeh? Don’ mean to.”

“No, no.” Your teeth dig into your bottom lip with bruising force. “I just—” Your eyes fall, dancing around his gaze.

“If yeh’re not comfortable with it, tha’s fine, love.” Harry pads across the space between you. He looks down at the box you’re still holding and nods toward the countertop, prompting you to set it down. Then one of his palms is curved around your jaw and his nose is bumping yours. What little air you had to breathe is stolen by him.

“Should let yeh know, though,” he continues, thumb stroking your cheek where your skin burns against his touch, “that ‘m already half-hard.”

You’re still in your thick coat and the heat of your body is trapped, broiling you until you feel that your flesh might peel right off the bone. Harry must be able to feel it because his fingers tickle down your neck until he can pull at your buttons. His face withdraws from yours and you’re chasing it, the terrible proximity of his lips. He chuckles.

“If yeh don’ wanna put the panties on, no problem.”

You’re reaching for him again and this time he relents, fitting his mouth to yours while he tugs your jacket down your arms. There’s still a fresh humming in your veins whenever he kisses you, as if it’s the first time. The thought of him wanting this as much as you do leaves you pumping with adrenaline.

“We’re tryin’ out that watermelon stuff, though,” he mutters against your tingling lips. His fingers hook beneath the hem of your shirt, curling against your hips. “So we’ll just get yeh completely naked, yeah? No underwear involved.”

In another moment, your shirt lies on the floor with your coat and your pants are halfway down your thighs. The warmth you felt within the confines of your clothes evaporates as if it were never there. Harry lifts you up onto the edge of the counter, sponging wet kisses along your chest, wiggling your pants over the bend of your knees. Your hands slip under the back of his hoodie and he flinches when your cold fingertips meet his spine.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

Harry reaches back to tug his hoodie over his head, mussing his hair and riding up the shirt he has on underneath. He scoffs at your apology and allows you to peel his t-shirt off.

“‘S okay. I’ll warm yeh right up.”

His words ring true as he takes your hands in his, twining your fingers together, and closes his lips around your collarbone. His hot breath unfurls against your skin and leaves you shuddering. Your knuckles knock against the countertop.

“Better?” he murmurs against the base of your throat before sliding his mouth up along the underside of your jaw. His lips find yours again and his tongue flicks at the careless part of them.

“Yes,” you manage to muster. And you are warmer. The blood surging through your body might as well be some molten metal, liquid silver sloshing around your insides.

“Get this off then, yeah?” His fingers slip from yours and deftly unclip your bra. The straps fall down your arms and Harry lets it tumble to his feet, his attention focused solely on the way your nipples have already begun to pebble against the chill air. “Look so pretty.”

You let out a labored breath as he traces one of your nipples with his tongue. Your fingers catch in the loose curls at the back of his head, nails biting into his scalp. The sound of his lips popping from your skin distracts you from his hands, wiggling your panties beneath your bottom, dropping them to the floor to rest beside your discarded bra.

“Wanna get it out for me, love?” he mutters against your chest, teeth grazing the curve of one breast and leaving chills in their wake.

“What?” you breathe.

“The lube, baby. Where’s the lube?” He lifts his eyes so he can gaze up at you, peppering just a few more kisses to your chest. You don’t notice him pulling the chunky rings off his fingers until you hear them clinking together into the pocket of his jeans.

“Oh.” Your hands are clumsy as you open up the box beside you, rifling through the tissue paper to find the little plastic bottle. Harry’s palms trail up your thighs and you shiver so violently that you fumble the bottle twice before you’re able to extract it from the wrappings.

“Thank you.” He takes the bottle from your hand and pops the cap off the pump, tossing it noisily across the counter. He squirts a generous amount of glimmering pink, translucent gel onto the fingers of his right hand, where the prints of his rings still glow just above his knuckles. His thumb spreads the gel along his digits and he rubs it back and forth to warm it against his skin.

“Yeh ready?” he asks, crooking your knee up with his clean hand and leaning forward to sponge kisses up the inside of your thigh. For a moment you forget that his question requires a response. You forget that you require breaths.

“Love,” he prompts, pausing at the middle of your thigh and settling his cheek against your skin. You can hear the lubricant as it shifts between his fingers. His eyes find yours.

“Yes,” you answer finally. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Harry hums. He turns to press a final kiss to your leg and then straightens up. With a gentle bump of his nose to yours, he slides his middle finger inside you. Even despite his effort to warm it, the lube isn’t nearly up to temperature. Your fingers clamp onto his shoulder, legs twitching at the chill of his touch, body tensing.

“‘M sorry, baby,” Harry mutters, pecking your chin. “Christ, yeh’re fuckin’ warm.” His other hand kneads at your propped up thigh as he begins to pump his finger into you. The sound it makes brings an uncomfortable heat to your face, but Harry only sighs into your burning cheek. Your eyes are drawn to the shift of his forearm, the rippling of the corded muscles just beneath his skin, under his eagle tattoo.

“I want another,” you whisper into his ear. You can smell his freshly washed hair, sweet and fruity beneath the sharp musk of his cologne. The hand you’ve been using to support yourself on the countertop combs through his soft curls and then folds them between your fingers.

Harry grunts, nipping at the skin just behind your jaw, just under your ear. He wiggles a second finger past your entrance and this time the cold is less of a shock. Instead, you’re dazed by the way he separates the two fingers apart, spreading you open, and then tips them up toward your belly. You release a staggered moan and lick at the dry flesh of your parted lips. It's as if he’s watched your tongue move. Harry draws back from your neck and finds your mouth, continuing to push his fingers into you while he kisses you until your lips are tingling and swollen and feel as though they could never be dry again.

By the time Harry slides a third finger into you, the countertop has become slick. You cling to him and your breath hitches when he stretches you open again, rubbing his thumb over your clit. A curse slips out under your breath. The smug look Harry gives you is almost too much.

“Gonna let me get a taste, then?” he asks, pressing his hand against your hip to keep you from creeping toward the edge of the counter. “’S flavored, yeah? Meant to be eaten. Want me to taste it?"

You open your mouth to answer and choke on the words. Harry’s fingers are buried to the hilts, his palm flat against your clit, a cocky lilt to his mouth. “Sorry, love. Didn’ catch that."

You want to push him away, but your hands tug at him in spite of his teasing. You resort to a vexed nod. Harry wastes no time. He draws his fingers free, leaving you achingly empty, dripping lubricant, and sinks to his knees.

His movements displace air and you catch the faint, tart scent of fruit, like flavored candy. It makes your mouth water but you barely have time to process it before Harry’s sticky hand finds the crease where your thigh meets your hip and he’s pressing his lips to the skin just above your pubic bone.

There’s no teasing like you suspected. You wait for another wandering kiss and instead you feel Harry’s tongue dip between your folds, licking up the uncomfortable wetness that’s begun to collect there. His nose flattens against your skin.

“Oh, fuck,” you stutter out when he moans, lip vibrating against your clit. Your hands clamp onto the edge of the counter, the pressure biting your fingers.

Harry’s clean hand loops around to the bottom of your spine, yanking you forward until you’re dangling precariously, held in place by nothing but his face and his shoulders, digging into your legs. You gasp and then choke on air when he gives your clit a rough pull.

“Tastes so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs when he separates for a breath. Your hazy eyes lower to look at him, and in the dim light from above the sink you find his mouth glimmering and wet. “Could lick yeh clean an’ still want more.”

You let out a weak, whimpering huff of acknowledgement, but he’s burying his tongue deep in your pussy before you’ve even finished. One of your hands stumbles across the counter to find a point of balance behind you and the other grasps at the topmost tendrils of Harry’s curls, knuckles knocking against his scalp. As if you could be wetter, you feel his spit dribbling down to pool underneath you while he licks and sucks and bites at you, obscene sounds echoing through the empty rooms of your flat.

The next moan you let out is so broken that if anyone heard it without context they wouldn’t be able to place it, or to even confidently state that the sound was made by a person. Harry slurps at you, ravenous still, his eyes screwed shut and a focused crease set deep between his brows. The palm you’re using for support is slick with sweat and when it starts to slip, the tug you give his hair releases a heavy grunt from his full mouth. He shifts beneath you, lubed fingers peeling from your thigh and pressing against your abdomen. When you can decipher his movements and realize that he’s pressing himself up against the cabinets, hips rutting in a disjointed, desperate pattern, you come so hard you nearly tumble right off the counter.

Harry is on his feet to catch you, tipping you onto your back and shimmying his mouth back between your legs to work you through your high. Your nails bite into his shoulder blades, belly convulsing until you’re spent. You push defeatedly at his head until he relents with a final kiss to your sensitive clit.

“So fuckin’ good,” Harry hums as he laces his clean fingers with yours. Your chest heaves and your head tips to the side. He kisses your tummy, just under the end of your ribcage. “Wanna fuck yeh but I’d never last, love. ‘M sorry.”

You shake your head, dazed, squeezing his hand. You don’t think you’d be able to handle it, anyway, and from the way he was grinding against your kitchen cabinets, you’re sure he’s right.

“Yeh wanna taste it, baby?” Harry asks. "So sweet.” He taps your mouth with a fingertip so sticky it pulls at your skin. You part your lips, still vibrating with the effects of your orgasm, and he dips his middle finger past them, the same finger he began this mess with. As much as you’ve been smelling candy, this tastes like a bowl of fresh fruit, like citrus and strawberries and a thick slice of juicy watermelon, and you understand Harry’s greedy tongue at once. It’s like a frozen smoothie in the suffocating heat of the tropics. You lick from his knuckle to his fingertip and then suck on the digit until your mouth is full of the sugared taste.

Harry groans. “So fuckin’ sexy, yeh know that?” He kisses the valley between your breasts, and his chin still feels sticky.

“Wanna taste it on you,” you mumble around his finger. He pulls it from your mouth and blinks up at you.

“What?”

A fresh wave of heat washes over your skin, but you nod, lifting yourself up onto an elbow. “Let me lick it off you, Harry.”

His head drops forward, suddenly too heavy for his neck, and he’s pulling you off the countertop, gathering you in his arms to press a feverish kiss to your lips. You crumple to your knees when he lets you go, ripping open the button of his jeans and tugging them over his ass, followed by his briefs. He stumbles out of both and then kicks them onto your pile of clothing.

Harry’s cock is hard and bright red and leaking. You straighten up and run your thumb along the side of it, the slightest touch, but Harry huffs in blissful relief. He forgets about the lubricant for a long moment before he tastes its ghost on his lips. His hand creeps across the counter for the bottle.

“Let me,” you whisper, holding out an expectant hand. Harry drops the bottle into your palm and you pour out three pumps, rubbing it between your fingers to give him the same courtesy he gave to you.

When you set the bottle to the side and wrap your coated hand around Harry’s length, air hisses between his teeth. You smell nothing but summer and sweetness, and your thumb has barely swiped over the tip of him before your tongue follows. And this taste is somehow better, fruit mixed with the salty flavor of him. Your lips close around him and you press forward until he reaches the back of your mouth.

Harry moans, deep and gravelly, and his closest hand grips the edge of the counter the same way yours did just a few minutes ago. His chin falls to his chest. “Taste good, baby?” he asks brokenly. “Yeh like it?”

You hum around him and he gasps, balling his free hand up into a tight fist. “No, no,” he protests. “No, just use your words for me. Tell me.”

You slide off of him grudgingly and lick at your lips, glancing up into his flushed face, his hooded eyes. “Tastes so good,” you confirm, placing your hand on the front of his thigh over the tattoo of a roaring tiger.

“Wanted to hide it from me,” he says. “Aren’ yeh glad I saw it?”

You nod and pump your hand up and down his cock, coating the area you’ve already sucked clean. Harry gulps and lets you wrap your lips back around him. This time, you take as much of him as you can handle and then begin to bob your head, letting the flavored gel glaze your tongue and fill your mouth, twisting your fist around the base of him.

“Shit,” Harry wheezes. His thumb catches on your cheek as he strokes your skin. The girth of him makes your jaw ache, but his gentle touch somehow soothes you. “Oh, fuck, yeh make me feel so fuckin’ good,” he praises. And that’s enough for you to take another extra bit of him into your mouth, even though it brings you close to gagging.

Harry chants a string of expletives when your bobbing hastens and your fist tightens around him in a quick squeeze. You’ve licked almost his entire dick clean. You remove your fingers in an effort to swallow even more of him, steadying yourself by gripping onto both of his sides.

Harry’s hand clamps around a fistful of your hair and you can feel strands sticking to his fingers, adhering to his skin. Your scalp bites as he pulls you even farther up his cock. He whimpers at the way your tongue presses at the underside of him and the sound you make as you struggle to breathe air through your nose. And then a desperate moan, almost a cry, rips from him as he finds release, lurching forward and filling your throat. You can see the muscles in his stomach spasming. Your fingers curl into his hips and your eyes tear up but you let him finish, thrusting shallowly but frantically until he’s emptied himself onto your tongue.

You suckle at the tip of his sensitive cock as he pulls out from your mouth and releases your hair. A stray tear drips down your cheek and you cough, come dribbling out of your mouth and down your chin.

“Fuck, sorry,” Harry rushes, panting above you. “‘M so sorry.”

You shake your head quickly and catch the liquid leaking from your lips with your sticky fingers and sucking it from your fingers. Harry sighs weakly above you as he watches. When you look up, you find his chest red and splotchy, his cheeks high with color.

“Don’t be sorry,” you tell him, and you’re almost embarrassed at the feebleness of your voice.

Harry crouches down in front of you and brings your mouth to his. You’re a messy tangle of lips and tongues and hair, sticky fingers and liquids. He huffs a sickly sweet breath across your chin and gives you one more brief kiss before he pulls away. His eyes wander across the kitchen, from the sole light above the sink to the scattered clothes to the shining, filthy counter, to the bottle laying beside your knee. He smirks. There’s got to be less than a couple pumps of gel left.

“Think we’re gonna need to make another order, yeah?"

#FineLineFicChallenge #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble

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couvers · 4 years ago

Note

4 & 9 for the dialogue prompts with percabeth !! any time period works<3

4. “Stop laughing.”

9. “This is your fault.”

It had been Percy's idea. He should have known it was a bad one, though he wasn't quite sure he could completely call it bad. His bad idea had resulted in uninterrupted Annabeth time, which alone should have made it a good idea.

That time had become increasingly difficult to come by since graduation, between Percy's intensive training schedule and Annabeth focusing on getting Piper through the breakup. Sometimes, lately, it felt like they were living worlds apart. Percy didn't begrudge Annabeth the fact they had less time for each other, especially since it was mostly because of him and she'd already taken the entire summer off just for sake of being around to support him, and he knew they'd get through it once his competition season ended, but he really did miss her.

Relationships were a two way street, though, and Percy wasn't about to let a pesky thing like always being sore and exhausted get in the way of his making an effort, because Annabeth had made a massive effort the last few weeks – basically living at his beck and call even while also balancing Piper’s needs; waking up to see him off every morning even on the mornings she was exhausted from having her sleep interrupted by Piper’s nightmares; doing chores for both of them while he trained so he didn't have to worry about anything when he got home at night.

On his way home the Friday before he and Annabeth would be leaving for Omaha, Percy had the perfect opportunity to make that effort, because Piper intended to stay at work late making up for what she’d missed after her emergency trip to Malibu. Percy also knew Annabeth was still a little shaken from Luke’s surprise visit the night before, no matter how hard she tried to put up a strong front. Hell, he was still shaken over that visit. They both needed this time alone together.

Confident in his plan, Percy stopped at the store to pick up a few things he knew they didn't have at the apartment, but would need. Getting Annabeth and Piper’s pantry in working order had been a massive task over the last few months, a constant work in progress that had him at the store more often than should ever be necessary. It didn't take long, though, and soon he stepped through the front door to discover her sprawled out on the couch, looking like an absolute vision in his NYU Swimming hoodie and a pair of shorts.

Before Annabeth could even get the question out, Percy held up his bag from the store and said, “Let’s bake cookies.”

“I don’t feel like burning the apartment down tonight,” Annabeth replied, staring at his bag in much the same way someone would look at an active bomb timer. She wasn’t too far off the mark, honestly.

“I will make sure you don’t burn anything down,” he assured her, kicking off his shoes and dropping his duffle bag by the door. Piper was probably going to yell at him for it when she got home, but that was a problem for later. Hopefully by then they would have cookies to placate her.

When Annabeth continued to stare at him and the bag with plain disdain, he lifted it again, shook it, and curled his bottom lip into an exaggerated pout. “Please?”

“That’s never worked when Piper’s tried it on me and it’s not going to work when you do it, either,” she said, but it was a lie. He’d seen Piper’s pitiful expressions work on her before and he could see her resolve wavering right there on the couch, too. A second later she groaned and set her phone on the coffee table. “Fine.”

Her mood improved quickly once they were in the kitchen. There were countless excuses to touch her, which Percy had been counting on, and Annabeth didn’t mind him wrapping his arms around her from behind and directing her hands as she measured ingredients based on the recipe from his mom on his phone. About halfway through preparing the dough she got overheated and peeled off her (his) sweater, and Percy had the added bonus of enjoying the view of her in nothing more than a dark blue camisole instead. He seriously loved his girlfriend in blue, and it matched perfectly with the shade their hands turned when they added a few drops of food coloring to the dough at the end of the prep process.

Once the first batch had been put in the oven, Annabeth and her blue hands started munching on leftover chocolate chips, tossing the occasional chip in Percy’s direction to catch in his mouth. Most of them landed on the floor, so he decided to give up on the game. Instead he crossed to where she leaned against the counter. Percy used his blue hands to lift her onto the counter and they wasted the last few minutes of bake time enjoying the hint of chocolate on each other’s lips instead.

“No, forget about them,” Annabeth whined when he pulled away at the sound of their timer going off.

“That’s how you burn the apartment down, Beth,” he replied with a throaty chuckle, though he wasn’t too happy about the interruption, either. She stuck her tongue out at him.

Percy placed the first batch on the cooling rack and slipped the second batch into the oven, not at all surprised that Annabeth remained seated on the counter behind him, just watching. Her arms were around him instantly when he returned to her, and this time they spent the whole eight minutes of bake time on hungry lips, teasing tongues, and wandering blue hands. For the first time in his almost twenty-three years of life, Percy felt like cookies baked too fast. He definitely wasn’t ready to pull away from her again when the timer went off a second time.

“Can we try them yet?” she asked, once he’d set the second batch to cool, still watching from the counter.

“An hour ago you didn’t even want to do this,” Percy reminded her, testing one of the cookies from the first batch with his finger to make sure it had cooled enough. In his eyes, the cookies looked just about perfect. Sally Jackson would be proud, and he had half a mind to take a picture and send it to her. They had talked at length about the sorry state of Annabeth’s kitchen experience.

Annabeth nodded, not even bothering to deny the truth, and kicked her heels against the cabinet beneath her. “But I did do it, so now I deserve to reap the rewards of my hard work.”

“Your hard work? I did most of the work here,” he objected, though he picked up two cookies and came to stand between her dangling legs. This time there would be no timer to call him away, and he definitely looked forward to enjoying the taste of their cookies on her mouth.

“My hands are blue,” she told him, snapping one of the cookies out of his hand. “I earned this.”

“Don’t worry, I’m an expert at washing food coloring off skin,” Percy replied, smiling when she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. Neither of them bothered to say another word before biting into their cookies.

He really wished he had not bitten into that cookie. Overpowering just about every other flavor was salt. Just salt. Like the whole cookie was salt and nothing else, not even chocolate chips. Both of them choked on their bites, faces scrunching up in twin expressions of disgust. Percy had time to run to the trash to spit it out, but Annabeth had to spit the thing straight into her hand. As she slipped off the counter to dump her handful of half chewed cookie in the trash, Percy went to the fridge for a bottle of water and guzzled half of it down.

Annabeth immediately reached for the bottle as soon as he’d finished taking his first drink, following his example, and it was then Percy burst into laughter. She shoved his shoulder gently as swished a little water around in her mouth and he laughed harder. “Stop laughing!”

“What did you do?” he asked, getting another shove when he continued to laugh.

“Me?” she replied, pointing to herself and shaking her head. “This is your fault.”

“You were the one who measured everything out.”

“You were supposed to be watching me so this wouldn’t happen – and stop laughing.”

Percy couldn’t have stopped laughing if he wanted to, and he kind of didn’t even want to. “I just don’t understand how you got so much salt in them.”

Her eye twitched, the adorable and sexy little twitch that had entranced him the first time they’d spoken months before and had only become more endearing with time. Annabeth tossed the emptied plastic bottle at him and turned on her heel to storm away. “This is why I didn’t even want to make the stupid cookies!”

“Beth, wait,” Percy called after her, easily catching up to her two step head start. He slipped his arms around her waist from behind and held tight, her halfhearted struggle to escape no use and only making him laugh more. “I’ll bake another batch for you. You can just sit and watch from the counter.”

“It’s too late,” she grumbled. “You ruined cookies.”

“I’ll make dinner, too,” he continued, leaning down to press his lips against her neck. The first time he’d made her eye twitch like that, he’d had to walk away. Now when he did it – and he did it pretty often – he got to enjoy the process of appeasing her, and the exceptionally good mood that always followed.

Annabeth considered his offer carefully, tilting her head to the side to allow him better access to her neck in the meantime, which he took full advantage of. “On one condition,” she decided.

“What’s that?” Percy asked against her skin, a smile pulling at his lips.

“You have to wear your apron,” Annabeth said firmly.

His smile grew a little wider. “That’s not much of a condition.”

“Only your apron,” she amended, her voice smug and taunting, a challenge to test his resolve. It seemed they’d transitioned from eye twitching mad to exceptionally good mood unusually fast that evening.

God, did he love her.

#this turned out like twice as long as i want these to be generally #but since it's two prompts in one... i'll use that as an excuse #set the day before piper's dumb ass gets arrested (between chapters 93 & 94)#apt 305 #my writing #dialouge prompt

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onyourzeus · 4 years ago

Text

raining | kyh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: raining pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: fluff, fictional universe words: 4.4k

was listening to this playlist while writing. author’s note: overwhelmingly cliche, like kdrama levels of it. be forewarned. i am in my youngk feelings tonight, folks. i just wanted to write something sickeningly cute & i think i achieved it lol. do enjoy, regardless.

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

The moment you step outside the door, you immediately regret it. You were never one to love the cold, you actually welcome it— but when signs of heavy rain are bound to happen within the hour or so it’s not advisable for anyone to enjoy a walk outside.

You pull on the ends of your sweaters even more, keeping the tips of your fingers enclosed in the warmth of the fabric. A slight yet wintry breeze whispers against your ear and you shiver involuntarily. It was a win-win situation to cover your head with the hoodie as your hair had seen better days before, and it keeps you extra protected from the cold.

The convenience store was a mere ten to fifteen walk from your street, it shouldn’t be a big deal. So here you are, shuddering in house clothes, trudging your way to the nearest mart to snag yourself a cup of noodles or two, and maybe buy a drink to keep you toasty on the way back.

Hands tucked in between your sides, you briskly make your way to your destination. At eight in the evening on a weeknight, there seems to be a couple of people enjoying a chilly stroll outside.

Well, the only difference is that they’re all dressed for the occasion: thick coats, thicker scarves, and an overwhelming sense of excitement for this weather.

“They better go home soon before it starts to rain,” you mumble under your breath, costing a fog to escape in front of you. It looks nice, though, that they have one or another person accompanying them tonight. Some with hands held tight and others just comfortably walking side by side.

The sudden chattering of your teeth makes you question your bitter sentiment. You decide not to think about it any further as you approach the blinding lights of the convenience store.

Pushing the door open with some elbow grease (they really need to replace that), you’re welcomed with a whiff of plastic packaged items, coffee brewing on the side, and the silent hum of cash registers at the front.

You’re starting to feel the heat of the inside replace your slight shivering, but you ought to keep the hood on and make the trip as fast as possible.

Walking towards the ramen aisle, your eyes widen at the sheer possibilities of microwavable meals you can have tonight: curry-flavored, spicy seafood, extra hot with three Xs, it’s shameful that you find these all so appealing.

Before your mouth waters embarrassingly, you grab three cups of your choice and cradle them in one hand securely. Moving over to the chilled section, you check the price of a small container of kimchi to see if you’re lucky enough to spice up your dinner for tonight.

Unfortunately, you don’t think it fits your budget, recalling that you just grabbed a couple of coins from the counter before leaving the apartment.

Somehow, while being preoccupied by the fact that you can’t have any kimchi, your head collides against someone’s back. In the most awkward encounter that can happen, cups of noodles drop on the floor. Your hoodie falls off your head, revealing the hair you’re trying to keep away from the public.

With heated cheeks, you apologize profusely to this person’s back, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking!” You don’t even wait for them to turn around as you quickly bend down and grab your items.

He picks them up before you do.

You get a glimpse of him in the seconds he’s bent down; his hair parted in the middle with a little curl to them, roots are dark brown but everything else of a faded grey, his thick brown coat nicely shaping his shoulders, and as he slowly stand upright you have a clear view of a black turtleneck that hugs his neck perfectly, and his face—

“No worries, it happens,” he tells you casually, holding onto your dropped items. His eyes are slanted and yet you see gentleness in them. As he gives you a small smile, you notice his high cheekbones protruding from such graceful features.

The sudden warmth emanating from your thrift-store find sweater makes your face feel like it’s about to erupt from embarrassment. You scramble over to grab your cup of noodles from his grasp, grazing the skin on his hands. Even that sensation felt so soft for such a short period of interaction.

You do need to go out and see people more.

“T-thanks,” you manage to blurt out. From all the apparent staring you’ve done in the past minute or so, you find your eyes glued on the floor intensely.

“Excuse me…” you trail off almost inaudibly, but he gives you space in the aisle you’ve collided so you can stand in line for the register.

It felt like an eternity being face to face with him as people have formed a queue to pay already, but you will yourself not to look back. It was a… lucky accident?

If you can call it that— you still look like you haven’t unearthed yourself from your hermit cave for months. And him— well, to put it frankly, he just looked unreal to be sauntering his way at a local convenience store.

You shake your head, quickly pull up your hoodie once again and tighten the straps a little bit more forcefully this time.

It’s hard to hide the shame, but at least your hair will be out of sight again.

Impatiently, you tap your foot with the sound of the clock on the wall. Some problem of some kind with the scanner up front was causing the line to lag, and not to say so first-world problem-haver, but the less time you spend in here, the more time you can scream into your pillow back home.

A stretch of the neck, you look up, down, and side to side. On your left, your eyes catch something too familiar.

Something in the universe is clearly toying with you because as soon as you crane your head just a tad bit further, you find the same gorgeous man standing behind you. He’s looking somewhere else, eyes pointed in the distance and his lips pursed together in thought.

Why. Is He. So. Cute. Just standing there like that?

“Hi,” you see his lips move, voice low but friendly. “Your ramen alright there?”

“Me?” you squeak out. His eyes train themselves on you, and for a second he looks just as confused. But he comes back with a short laugh, and you feel like shrinking into dust.

But it doesn’t sound like he’s laughing at you, it wasn’t mean or said with a grimace at all.

He nods his head confirming your silly question and adds, “Yes, the ones you’re holding onto for dear life in there.”

“These?” you ask again, like a complete dysfunctional human machine. “Oh, um— yeah. They’re fine. Hahaha,” you reply and you sound nervous.

You shouldn’t be, he’s asking a legitimate question and you’re making it out to be like an interrogation! Snap out of it, reprimanding yourself in the head. This is not how you talk to people at all.

“Good.” He continues smiling at you, but his eyes shift elsewhere. Well, that’s probably your cue to stop this uncomfortable situation for yourself, and for his good as well.

But he’s still talking, and addressing you it seems.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hi, I can take your stuff right here, miss.”

“Yes, please! Thanks,” you hurry off to the front, out of breath and out of words left to speak.

There was no point to keep looking back, you’ve done your part acting the way you did. Maybe you should have just waited until tomorrow to get groceries, you would have benefitted from sleeping in earlier than showcasing how clumsy you can be to a complete stranger. (Not to mention someone your type.)

The employee speedily checks out your items and puts them in a paper bag. She asks if there was anything else you’d like, and you contemplate on the hot coffee that you wanted. You pull out the coins and one lone paper bill you had in your pockets to assess if it’s within your budget.

“Is this enough for what I got?” you lay out your change and then some on the counter. It may be your imagination, but it feels like the guy behind you is watching. You shift to the side slightly to hide the fact that you’re paying with coins.

She glances at your choice of payment, and says words that could literally be the cause of your death tonight. “I’m sorry, do you have an extra fifty cents? These would only pay for three of your cup noodles, miss.”

Robbed of one, already cheap choice of dinner tonight, her voice seemed to increase in volume revealing your insufficient amount of cash on hand to everyone in the store.

She watches as you blink your eyes tight, face squirming hard.

“It’s okay… I’ll just get those that I can pay for,” you respond meekly, and she nods. You don’t hear anything else anymore, maybe she was offering a coupon or whatever, you had one mission and one thing in mind only: get the hell out of there.

You take the paper bag, bow your head in thanks, and head out the door faster than you can realize that the rain had started pouring hard for what seemed like a few minutes prior.

Now your sweater is drenched, your paper bag is starting to crumble from the bottom, and you didn’t bring an umbrella.

Nor do you have any money or phone with you to call a cab to your apartment.

In an effort to keep some parts of you not wet, you keep to yourself just barely outside of the store where the roof is still hanging; just enough to cover half of your body from the pouring rain. It’s amazing, you think, what absolute god must you have angered for you to be stuck in something so stupid like this?

You can’t go back in the store, the guy is still there— suddenly you realize with a panic in your heart. He’ll see you here, right next to the door, waiting for the rain to stop once he exits out of the store.

Either way, he’ll recognize you, and to pity you or laugh at you secretly, it’s his choice now. It’s his right to, you wouldn’t care anymore.

Let the clown music reverberate in your ears, it’s an anthem you’d proudly sing amidst pouring rain.

With your thoughts seeming to come to life for the nth time, the door opens with an annoying chime, and as you look up it’s him, of course, it’s him.

But he’s not laughing nor does it look like he’s just going to avoid your sorry figure. He stands next to you, opens up his black umbrella at an arm’s reach and puts it over both your heads. His shoulders touch your wet sweater, and you’re inclined to move away but the umbrella can only cover a tiny area.

You hold in a breath, afraid when you exhale he’d see panic written all over your face.

“You okay?”

You nod, keeping your gaze forward, into the dim surroundings and the pitter patter of the night sky.

“Do you have any means of going home?” He asks again, and you’re sure he’s looking at you.

“I was planning on walking…” you finally quip, quiet and unsure of yourself. “Once the rain stops,” you let out a shaky breath. Frankly, you feel more stressed out than nervous at this point.

He doesn’t strike you as a man with malicious intent so far, and if he were to rob you right here right now, well — he should know, of all people in this store (aside from the cashier) that there’s nothing of value with you at the moment. You’re basically of no value as far as you can tell.

Sad.

“It doesn’t look like it’s stopping anytime soon,” he says, and you take a quick peek at him. He scans the surroundings, eyes focused and eyebrows knitted together. He looks back at you, and you’re frozen in place.

“Let me call a cab for you,” he tells you with concern.

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” you say frantically, dismissing him with one hand. The other was still holding the wet paper bag against your chest, and you feel it dampening your sweater each second that passes by. “I can just wait it out in the store.”

He continues to look at you as he pouts, and you stand there next to him feeling small. You appreciate his kindness, really, but you know a guy dressed like that has better places to be at and you’re here slowing him down.

“Honestly, it’s okay,” you try and ease his worries, but he doesn’t look convinced. “I live, like, fifteen minutes away. I have nothing else to do at home, so there’s no reason for me to be back so soon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you urge on, smiling at his politeness. “Besides, I don’t want to keep you here. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Nonsense. It should be the rain apologizing to us,” he says with a tsk.

You can’t help but giggle at his silly remark. He’s handling this stress-free while you haven’t stopped sweating since he stood beside you with the umbrella.

“How about this, I give you my umbrella—” you start to protest but he puts a finger up, coaxing you to bite your lip to keep it shut. “— so that you can walk home without getting rained on too much, and I’ll call myself a cab.”

It was a tempting offer, but not quite reasonable to you yet.

It’s the generosity he’s offering which shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, in fact, you should feel relieved. But your guard is still up, even if the rain isn’t letting up itself anytime soon.

If you keep declining him, who knows how much more patience he has to appease your feigning grandiose modesty?

“I’d pay for your cab if I had money with me right now,” you admit shyly. “Unless you’re comfortable with an online transfer, I’d have to know your information...” It was a stretch because maybe at that point you’d learn of his name, but you didn’t want to go too far.

“Don’t worry about me for a moment. You can take my umbrella, and I can take a cab. We get home safely, with one of us less drenched unfortunately, but everything will work out in the end. Deal?” His proposition sounds so firm and settled that you had no reason to deny him anymore.

So you relent, much to your own benefit, too. “Fine.”

He chuckles at your unintentional curt response. You correct yourself, “I mean— thank you, for the umbrella. Sorry, I was just stupid to go out without one, knowing it was gonna rain sooner than later.”

“Happens to the best of us,” he chuckles again while pulling something out of his own paper bag. You recognize it immediately, the cup noodles you had to let go of.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have—”

“There you go again, rejecting what I’m putting down here,” he chastises. “It would be a shame if,” he looks at the label before continuing, “Savory Shiitake Soup was left out unwillingly with his other cup noodle pals.”

You stop yourself from internally cringing at how he read it so slowly, as if he’s never had cup ramen in his life. You’d believe it, too, but then again he’s the one parading his sophisticated looks in a local store at a random town.

“I stick to the basic kinds,” he explains, seeing the meek surprise on your face.

It is almost twenty degrees out yet your body temperature is steaming hot. You admit defeat (to yourself) and open up the paper bag so he can put the cup inside. Secretly, you’re thankful the whole gang is in there which makes your stomach grumble all of a sudden. And he hears it.

“I take it, it's almost dinnertime,” he points out.

“Shut up,” you say, lips pouting. To a stranger.

He laughs at the bluntness. “It’s the perfect meal for a weather like this. If you have any eggs at home, I recommend cracking one in right before you eat it.”

“Yes!” You exclaim loudly, eyes shining with interest.

You’ve always done that with your ramen, albeit you hear of some people’s disgust over such a technique.

“I do have eggs at home, thank god, but I can’t believe you do it that way too,” you disclose. It makes the soup eggy and more creamy, what can you say?

“I add a drop of chili oil for added spice on mine, that really seals the deal for me,” you continue, feeling a little less uptight being next to him. However, the moment you uttered those words, his face grimaces for a second as he gulps and nods absently at you.

“You’re not a spicy guy yourself?” It comes out before you register what those words could mean otherwise.

He doesn’t catch it or at least, he doesn’t mind. He laughs again, and the gleeful contrast of his voice to the harsh rain is somewhat giving you warmth inside.

(And not the sweaty kind.)

“Not in regards to food, sadly no,” he says. “My friends tolerate it better than I do, so whenever I have the chance to cook for them I have to separate their portions if the recipe called for some kick to it.”

“You cook?”

“I try to,” he implies sheepishly, cheekbones turning up with the way he grins. It was endearing, watching him explain how it’s become a hobby of his for the past few months and that his roommates have benefited as a result.

All the food talk continues to make you hungrier, but the way he shares personal stories all of a sudden is a delightful experience for you. His eyes glint animatedly when he recalls the time when two of his friends fought over leftover bulgogi, in which he had no choice but to make some more. At two in the morning.

You listen intently, and laugh when he reaches the punchline and prideful banter about the people he seemed to deeply care about. It didn’t even matter how hard hitting the rain felt against the ground, you were actually covered quite expansively by the umbrella.

In return, you quickly notice that the side of his coat has been drenched all this time. Instinctively, you pull at the sleeve of his clothing, surprising him by the movement as you butt heads for a moment. It wasn’t hard, but it definitely paused the natural flow of conversation you two were having.

“You’ve had the umbrella mostly on me this whole time,” you chide almost regretting doing so, “Sorry.”

“It’s just clothes,” he chuckles upon realizing what just happened, but afterwards his smile returns. “Thanks for looking out for me, though.”

You feel yourself smiling too wide from that comment.

You think of something to say before you get too comfortable with this feeling, and then you remember: “You haven’t booked your way home yet.”

“Oh! You’re right,” he says a little too quickly, and you feel a twinge of disappointment weighting in your stomach at how fast he reacted to that.

Of course, at the end of the day, he’s just stuck with you due to some unlucky situation you found yourself in. He’s just doing you a favor.

He checks his phone for a few minutes, the light illuminating on his face. You notice the hard lines of his jaw and the curvature of his nose a bit more definitely now, and it’s amazing how one person can look like that.

This time, you reprimand yourself from staring too much and so you watch the people passing by again. Hand in hand, raincoats and umbrellas in their grasp as they fight against the current of the rain.

“Okay, I just finished booking it on the app. It says it should arrive in less than five minutes,” he brings you out of your reverie.

“That’s great to hear,” you say with as much enthusiasm as you can. You eye the handle of the umbrella in which his hand has been gripping all this time. You know you’re soon to be left with it, alone, as he rides the cab and finally part ways with you.

“I can keep holding on to this until it gets here,” he says, almost reading your mind. “I hope it is of good use to you tonight, and in the near future.”

“I’ll keep it safe and useful, of course,” you say, feeling the pit of your stomach get heavier and heavier. You’re not sure what it is, or you’re probably in denial. You start to count the seconds in your head, imagining how to tell him goodbye and perhaps… never seeing him again.

You don’t even know his name.

“I’m Younghyun— before I forget,” yet again, he hears the pleas in your mind and you ought to keep the thoughts silent as he suspiciously introduces himself.

“I’ve been exposing my friends’ and their ways of borderline gluttony to you, I haven’t even given you my name yet.”

Younghyun, you repeat in your head. Your lips curl upward at the sound of his name, it suits him well.

“Do you mind if I can get yours as well?” It was a polite question, nothing out of the ordinary of two people meeting each other for the first time.

But Younghyun seemed to have other, further plans from that. His phone is still on, and it’s facing in your direction. Looking down, you see that he has an unfilled out contact information on the screen.

“Oh,” you mumble out loud, not wanting for it to sound too pleasantly surprised. He takes it the other way, however, as he tries to retract his phone. “Sorry, I thought— I just wanted to know if you got home safely and—”

“No, please! It’s okay. I’d— um, I don’t have my phone on me right now but I can text my number if that’s alright with you,” you explain quickly before he can put it back in his pocket.

With an openly relieved expression, Younghyun changes the app to his messages and gives you his phone. You type in something easy to recognize in addition to your name on it, and send it to your number. Right as you give it back to him, a car with its headlights on park upfront, beaming the two of you with its brightness.

“I guess that’s my ride,” Younghyun hesitates. “I know it seems odd, but I really enjoyed talking to you despite…,” he finishes by looking at the puddle forming underneath where you both stand. You agree with a hearty laugh, the uneasiness you feel inside dissipating.

“Thank you, for the umbrella. And my cheap shiitake noodles,” you humor him, but your words are laced with sincerity.

He hands you the umbrella, enclosing his fingers over yours as you grip onto the handle tightly. His hand is just the right temperature, cozy and warm. It immediately sends your head reeling.

“Are you sure you don’t want to share the ride with me? I think I’ve proven enough to you that I’m just a beginner in the kitchen, and not an evil person,” Younghyun suggests. You nudge him just enough to tip him over the edge, playful and amicable on your end.

“I’ll text you, I promise. Is that good enough for you, Younghyun?” With the sound of his name coming from you, lips widen in the most cheerful grin he’s shared to you today.

If you’re being really honest with yourself, you feel a little special.

“You better stay true to your words.”

“Go home, Younghyun!”

You watch his ride pull out of the parking lot, and drive into the night. It’s funny because the rain went from hazardous conditions to gentle whispers of droplets which makes walking back home easier for you, probably even without an umbrella.

But you hold onto it tight, knowing that Younghyun had his hands on the same spot makes you squeal like a teenage girl on the way home. You walk faster than normal, pools of water on the pavement splashing at the ends of your sweatpants. It’s disgusting, you most likely need to change completely, but it was far from your concern.

You get home and head straight for your bed where your phone was, disregarding the drenched clothes you have on dripping on the sheets.

The text from Younghyun’s number came through, and inspecting further he texts you two more times.

You giggle, finally letting out giddy feelings where no one can judge you. You text him back.

And you think that’s the end for today, and you think of things to say for tomorrow that wouldn’t make you seem like you’re overstepping it. But your phone vibrates in your hand, and your eyes stare at his quick response.

Your heart pounds in your chest; it’s heavy, weighing down on you but for completely different reasons.

You plop down on your bed head first, pillow against your cheek. You actually do it, you scream. Not of what you thought you’d be doing, but the complete opposite.

Before you pass out in excitement, you manage a reply.

You do end up staying up late at night, eating your well deserved hot cup of noodles. But the laptop isn’t on, and you decide you can catch up on shows some other time.

You and Younghyun text the night away, it’s not awkward anymore. You feel yourself easing up to his banter through messages and gifs which you try to one up him every so often.

The rain had stopped sometime in the night, and instead your heart continued to pound heavily in your chest. It was exhilarating, to say the least, but you welcomed the feeling of having something to look forward to.

You remind yourself to not only do groceries tomorrow, but also do your laundry. (You never got to change into something more dry that night.)

#young k scenarios #young k imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #brian kang imagines #brian kang scenarios #young k x reader #young k au #day6 au #by:jiae

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intombedarc · 4 years ago

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@crasvespertilio asked: 💘 + rae and terry

where they first met and how

they met in high school with bruce doing a favor for a friend in watching over rae before they died. terry was tasked into helping her get adjusted to living in gotham and the two were hardly separated ever since. granted, they weren’t too crazy about each other’s company but as they got older, they softened up around each other.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

their flirting phase never ended, especially for terry. their feelings for each other ended up being very mutual anyway but as for the flirting stage? never got over it. they’re still flirting with each other.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

uhhhhh this is hard to say. i want to say raven, maybe like... a day before anything was said. despite her being able to feel his emotions whether he wants her to feel them or not.

where their first date was and what it was like

terry and rae didn’t have much of a first date until they were older. they went to the movies, a simple first date just to feel a little more normal than the rest. she opted to see a horror film. it was really casual and sweet, terry nearly punched somebody’s lights out for looking at rae the wrong way but he got to walk her home. she kissed his cheek before the night was over.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

terry’s the one that always asks her out, it’s a little rare for rae to ask him (mostly because she likes to drag him to places they’re both going to enjoy) but it could be for the simplest things like to a store, to a carnival, a party, whatever the case is. terry is just kindly vocal about asking her and he gives her puppy eyes so she would say yes.

who proposes first

terry is the one that proposes first.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

they weren’t trying to keep their relationship under wraps on purpose. they did it for the sake of keeping their personal lives and their heroic lives from crossing with each other so it seemed like they were keeping it a secret.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

it was very traditional, he took her to one of her favorite parks after a quiet evening of having thanksgiving dinner with bruce and popped the question. he got down on one knee and she made a slick comment about him being cheesy. she said yes anyway.

if they adopt any pets together

terry and rae share the great dane, ace and her bengal cat, dexter.

who’s more dominant

he’s more dominant during the day. occasionally, rae will be the dominant one but she likes to give him control.

where their first kiss was and what it was like

rae was very concerned over terry trying to protect her over a deadly incident with blight. she tended to his wounds but she was pissed off about terry being hardheaded. he kissed her mid sentence to calm her down and it was just a passionate moment that melted them both.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? )

they’re not that couple to have matching items but they do match in outfits sometimes. only sometimes because terry likes to sport his hawaiian shirts and she’d rather be six feet under than wear that.

how into pda they are

rae isn’t too heavy on pda and terry goes with the flow. she does get comfortable with it after some time, holding his hand, sneaking in a peck here and there but nothing further than that unless they’re alone in a public place.

who holds the umbrella when it rains

rachel because of her powers and because the umbrella terry has isn’t enough for her.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

terry drags her to this club slash diner where they can just hang out on the rooftop to unwind and not have any responsibilities.

who’s more protective

terry is very, very, very protective of rachel despite her being the stronger one of the two.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

it took them quite a few years for them to get use to each other’s company. any time he’s too tired or too injured to leave her sights, she’d insist on letting him stay until he was okay enough to go back home. eventually it conspired to them having sex and really letting their emotions flourish.

if they argue about anything

the big one is terry nearly getting himself killed whenever it happens. she does not like the fact that he can get reckless when there’s no static strategy to meet their goal. in return, rae’s overprotectiveness tends to sound like terry is incapable which he is the complete opposite.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

rachel is subject to this because she likes to tease him relentlessly.

who steals whose clothes and how often

sometimes, rae will take his hoodie to sleep in when he’s out on patrol. it keeps her company and makes her feel safe.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

sometimes they spoon, sometimes they face each other. terry will put his head on her stomach watching trashy tv while she reads one of her books to tune out the noise.

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

cooking, watching horror movies and making fun of them, going to festivals, intimate hugs that last forever because terry is part bear and loves to squeeze her.

how long they stay mad at each other

not very long at all. rae hardly gets angry and fed up with terry but she does get frustrated enough to want a little space. maybe two to three days of barely speaking.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

rae leans more towards tea than coffee. depending on the kind, she likes sweet and savory, plenty of honey or lemon to bring out the flavor. terry likes his coffee light and sweet enough.

if they ever have any children together

that’s later down the line but they do have one together.

if they have any special pet names for each other

nothing special but they do call each other by their last names when they’re being shitheads together.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

they never ‘split up’ per say. they just take a tiny break before they end up missing each other.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

the loft that they share is pretty neatly done, rae doesn’t like having too much clutter so she’s constantly rearranging her books / crafts to make it all cohesive when she’s ready to whip out a spell. terry on the other hand can be a little messy but she’s forced him to pick up after himself.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

halloween is their favorite but also their least because of the constant patrolling they have to do but christmas and thanksgiving are the two big favorites because they get to spoil each other and spoil matt. rachel doesn’t lighten up too much around the holidays but she does get into the spirit in her own way and terry doesn’t stray too far from the same feelings.

what their names are in each other’s phones

for rae, it’s ‘terry’ and for terry, it’s probably ‘beautiful’

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

uhhhh there’s no tradition as a couple but they do go above earth to attend league-related meetings.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

rachel is likely to wake up first and terry falls asleep first, he’s very tired and requires lots of warm cuddles tbh.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

terry is the big spoon to her little spoon. it’s rare that it’s the other way around.

who hogs the bathroom

probably terry, he needs to look good for his girl at all times LOL

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

terry attempts to kill the spiders but rae stops him from doing it so she can release it outside. it’s a witch thing.

#crasvespertilio #i love them eternally ur honorr

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ditch-witches · 5 years ago

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Insufferable (iv) - George MacKay x reader

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

requested: yes/no (this is it. i'm done finally. thank you for your time.)

God bless @/okay.l0z

"Hi! I've been reading your fics and I love them so much bc there's hardly any around. I was wondering if you take insta requests and if so can you do one with George and the reader are like enemies to loves and they have really cute moments but then end up fighting all the time and then it escalates and they end up having sEx and then get together or something bc I will THRIVE IF YOU DO!" ... "Is it bad if I want it long ass?"

pairing: George MacKay x reader

warnings: an annoying ass insecurity moment, mentions of matcha

word count: 1,412

a/n: We wrote this during a sorority's pledge night and thought we were in the middle of a cult initiation ---- Basically the same thing but they didn't offer us any of the blood of previous sisters. #bummed

You laid awake most of the night, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. What had you done. There was a clock hanging on George's wall near his bed, the ticking seeming to grow louder and louder as you noticed it. Where did the lipstick come from earlier. His duvet was blue, not uncharacteristic for him, but you were pleasantly surprised at how soft his sheets were and that he slept on the side you usually avoided. Did you even love him.

Did you even love him?

What if you had been so wrapped up in passion and rage that it just felt like you did? As your high began to wear off, you wondered why you were even there. George deserved better than someone who wasn't sure. How could he have been in love with you for so long yet he chose now to make it evident? Why couldn't he have told you years prior, when you weren't finally getting somewhere with your career? The horrific aspect of it all was the fact that as soon as the sun came up the next day, the next day of your real lives away from the theatre, George would have the possibility of deciding that he didn't actually love you. Then where would you be? Back in bed with Mark, living out your dreary day-by-day as if nothing had ever happened? As you laid there, thinking about all the possibilities of what could happen, there was still one major thing on your mind: Where did the lipstick come from?

As the sunlight began to peek through the blinds, your heart sank. You felt sick and worried, knowing that at any moment, he could wake up. What would you tell him? 'I don't know what's going on. You deserve someone who does. You deserve someone who wears that shade of lipstick.' Surely not. You turned your head to look at George, his hair sprawled out over his dark pillowcase as he slept peacefully, the covers wrapping around his bare torso. The stripes from the blinds barred across his back, the latter pattern changing every so often as the sun moved behind a cloud or higher into the sky. His face was calm and without the intensity, it holds when he's awake, mainly a difference between when he's deep in thought. He looked younger and almost zen. You itched to know what he was dreaming.

You bit your lip slightly and without thought, picked yourself up out of bed to silently sweep your clothes up from around the room. Guilt weighed on your heart as you took one last look at the boy before you left his apartment. You needed to run, to keep running until your lungs burned and your legs could barely hold you up, something else to give you feeling rather than having to sort your feelings out. So you did, in your new dress and bare feet; you ran.

In the next few weeks, you attempted to gather your thoughts and sort your life out. How could you invite George in when you didn't even have a spot for him? You started off by addressing the fact that you had gotten kicked out of your own show for punching an understudy. You had texted the director earlier begging him to meet up so you could explain the situation in the hopes of smoothing over whatever feathers you had inadvertently ruffled. Thankfully he had agreed.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I wasn't firing you. I literally just wanted you to calm down."

You thought about his sentence said over a steaming cup of a matcha flavored drink, his rowdy hair blowing frantically around his head as your eye twitched slightly. Your head filled with new script plots and coursework to mix with the overwhelmed unease you experienced whenever George flashed into your mind.

His face, his hands, his voice. Every sacred touch from the man seemed to be tattooed on you, but the thought of him only came to you at night when you were alone with your never-ending stream of consciousness. You thought mainly about what it was like to finally rest in his arms. It had been too long since you hadn't talked to him. Had he forgotten about you? Had he moved on to whomever the lipstick belonged to? You started staying in most nights, catching up on work to keep you busy.

I love you.

Why had he said that? Why hadn't you said it back?

It was in November when you got an email from your local movie theater about a "throwback" night. Headlining was none other than Judge Dredd. You chuckled to yourself slightly, looking at the paperwork surrounding you and---for once---thought fuck it. You deserved a night off. Grabbing your jacket and heading out, you noticed it beginning to snow. You pulled your jacket tighter around you to combat the cold air, your mind briefly drifting to the night when you were stuffed into George's car, bundled up in his hoodie. You were within walking distance to the theater, and after getting your ticket, your seat was even easier to find. Judge Dredd hadn't made it big in the '90s---shocker---so you were honestly surprised that more than four people had shown up to the screening. Sinking into your chair, you felt small. The movie flashed onto the screen and you chuckled to yourself at the opening song, thinking of the last time you had seen the film with your brother.

And George.

The seat next to you creaked as someone settled in beside you. You didn't think to look up, only the thought of why they would have picked that seat when the whole theater was basically free crossed your mind. A familiar scent invaded your senses, your brows furrowing as you turned your head, catching the gaze of George. The two of you shared a look, your heartbeat quickening as the blues in his eyes seemed to deepen. He didn't look sad, his expression still dressed like the day on the street. You wanted to cry, finding it hard not to tell him everything at once. Instead, you turned back to the screen, breathing shallowly. A few moments passed of Sylvester Stalone's voice filling the theater until your hand fell beside your leg, wanting to be closer to George. You didn't look at him again, biting back the emotion threatening to spill over. His pinky reached out for you and you moved to grab his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his. He let out a sigh of relief and you took the opportunity to lean towards him, resting your head on his shoulder, the softness of his sweater feeling like home to you. You exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding in, finally feeling at peace.

"I love you," you whispered.

EPILOGUE.

You slipped your dress on, struggling to get the zipper up, feeling like you had lost your independence. You had been spoiled with a man that would zip you up without being asked. You groaned slightly, tugging your shoes on instead and calling out. George peeked around the doorframe, his eyebrows raised slightly as he tugged at his cuffs. "Do you mind?" You asked, holding up your hair and turning your back to him. You heard him chuckle, walking over to you and zipping your dress up, placing a kiss to the back of your neck. "I feel like a damn beached whale."

George let out an almost snickering response. "I love whales."

"You're not helping." You turned to him, rolling your eyes slightly. His features seemed to soften as he looked you over. He still looked at you like you were standing beside the altar next to him.

You stretched your back. He shrugged. "We could skip?"

"No, last time you said that I got pregnant." You fought not to smile at your own complaint. "I'm done being pregnant. Maybe if you win tonight, it'll be over."

George rolled his eyes, bending slightly to mockingly rest his cheek against your stomach. "Take your time, little one. Mummy's just being an ass."

You pushed him away from you. "Stop corrupting her! I'm supposed to be the favorite parent!"

He crossed his arms, a smirk playing at his lips. "Oh, I beg to differ."

You pushed past him, grabbing your bag as you left the room. "You're insufferable. You know that?"

"Bite me."

#george mackay imagines #george mackay x reader #george mackay #george #1917 imagines #1917 #young au #oscars #imagines

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thesilencebeforeastorm · 4 years ago

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More Than Just A Quirk - ShindoDeku

A/N: Back with some smutttttt lmao, my first M/M nsfw fic actually! This fic was inspired by a ShindoDeku nsfw fanart by @ spacenipnops on twitter! The link to her artwork is here . Please take a look at her lovely work. This is my interpretation of her piece. Also, Midoriya and Shindo are over 18! If you want to read it on my ao3 account, click here.

~ NSFW Tags: Quirk Play, Oral, Fingering, Body Praise, Aftercare, Bisexual Shindo & Deku, Dom Shindo & Sub Deku

There were a lot of things Midoriya tried in his life. Things like a new video game or a new ice cream flavor, but one thing he never tried was was having sex with a guy. He wasn't a virgin, since he's had a girlfriend in the past and had sex with her but with a guy? No, that was completely out his zone. He didn't even know he liked guys until he caught a look at some guy Kirishima was having a quick chat with. From what he heard later on from Kiri was that his name was Shindo Yo, a recent graduate from a different school and now a pro hero, who was only a year older than he was. From afar, he noticed his dark colored hair which was similar to Midoriya’s style and the way his chest and abs were exposed due to his green and black hero costume. His smile was also something he took note of, especially when he gave Midoriya a smirk when he caught him looking at him. Turning away, Midoriya was having a hard time processing in his mind what he was feeling. He's seen guys shirtless, hell, Kirishima was shirtless all the time in his pro hero outfit, but no. Something about Shindo was different. Shindo made him hard. Days went by after that encounter and Midoriya tried to push the thought of him away, yet it wouldn't. He wanted him. He didn't know how exactly that would happen, especially since he wasn't sure of his feelings and didn't think he would see him again but fate had set in that day when Midoriya caught him talking to another one of his friends again while on patrol. Shindo caught a glimpse of him in return and approached him afterwards which made Midoriya panic internally. Turned out though he wanted the same thing Midoriya did.

"Hey, you're that kid I saw last time while I was talking to your friend Kirishima. 3rd year right? What's your name?"

"Midoriya Izuku, and yeah it's my 3rd year ", Midoriya responded a little nervously.

"Midoriya Izuku, huh? Almost done with UA then", Shindo replied. The way his name rolled off his tongue made Midoriya practically melt right there.

"Well, since I've caught you staring at me more than once, I'll tell you what. Let's meet up at my place this weekend since it's my only time off. Give me your phone number and I'll text you the address".

Not believing how straight forward Shindo was, his eyes widened and he almost froze where he stood but his mind was able to process his phone number as he gave it to Shindo.

"See you there," Shindo said to him as he got close to his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Without another word, he walked away, leaving Midoriya right there.

It was now the weekend, and here Midoriya was waiting in front of Shindo's door. He wasn't fully hard but the idea of what was to come made himself feel a little stiff in his boxers. He knocked, only having to wait a few seconds before he was greeted by a smiling Shindo at the door.

"Midoriya, you made it! Come in", he said, allowing him to enter his place. It was pretty organized for the most part and he had the place to himself. Since it was the evening and the night would be there soon, the place was dimly lit with what natural light was left before it was gone. Midoriya removed his shoes before he walked further in.

"Want a drink?" Shindo asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. His eyes motioned towards the kitchen where he saw Shindo holding up a soda can in his hand.

"No thanks", Midoriya replied.

"Suit yourself then. You can wait for me in my room. It's down the hall to the right".

Giving the ok to go, Midoriya slowly walked down the hallway and found Shindo's room. The main light was off but the lamp at his desk was the only light source lighting up the room for the moment. The bed was neatly made and the room was cleaned up as well. Midoriya liked that.

He sat down on the chair Shindo had by his desk, not wanting to be intrusive by sitting on his bed. He waited for Shindo, feeling his heart racing and his hands slightly sweaty from the nerves. This was it. He had plenty of time to think about if he really wanted to do this and was pretty okay with it during the week but actually being here felt different. It wasn't a fight or flight moment but just butterflies in his stomach. His mind went on to wonder what Shindo would do to him, if he would suck him off or if Midoriya would have to please him first. Would he enjoy it, or would he regret it? That he did not know.

Shindo walked into the room a few minutes later, spotting Midoriya on the chair. He walked in front of him and greeted him again.

"Hey sorry man, I was just cleaning up something in the kitchen."

"It's fine", Midoriya replied. Seeing Shindo's bangs hang over his forehead being dimly litt by the lamp on his desk gave him a slight shadow to his face, something that seemed oddly hot to him. He was wearing a white t-shirt that had purple colored short sleeves and black sweats with white stripes on the sides.. He felt his cock twitch a bit, hoping that Shindo didn't notice but of course he did.

"Heh, you're that excited for me already? You just got here", Shindo jokingly said, shooting Midoriya a smirk as he looked at his dick print and then at his eyes. Midoriya, feeling slightly embarrassed, attempted to hide it with his yellow sweater. This only made Shindo laugh.

"Hey man, no need to hide it. If you're hard you're hard", he said as he crouched down in front of him, being eye level with his print.

Midoriya's breath hitched at the sight, his face turning bright pink at the realization that Shindo was probably going to be the one to please him first. He slowly let go of his hoodie, leaving his print to be exposed through his pants.

"So, you're ready for this?" Shindo asked him as he placed his hands on Midoriya's thighs.

Midoriya took a deep breath and swallowed thickly and nodded yes. Just as Shindo placed his hands on the sides of his pants to pull them down, Midoriya stopped him.

"Wait", he said quickly, motioning his hands to stop Shindo from pulling his pants down. Taken a little aback, Shindo let go, placing his hands back on Midoriya's thighs.

"What's wrong?" Shindo asked, confused. He was looking at Midoriya's face, searching for worry which is what he found.

"I uh..." Midoriya began. "I've never done this..."

Shindo's eyes met Midoriya's, listening to him express his concern. "Had sex?" he asked.

"N-no I have, just never.... with... y'know..." Midoriya stammered off.

"A guy?", Shindo asked.

"Yeah"... Midoriya said quietly. His head hung low as he messed with the strings of his sweater, saving himself further embarrassment. He was sure that he was ready but cursed at himself internally for stopping him.

"I see.. Well Midoriya, if you don't wanna do this, you don't have to. I won't push you. If you still want to, we'll move at your pace."

Midoriya looked up from his sweater to Shindo's eyes. Shindo gave him a reassuring smile while slowly rubbing his thumb side to side on Midoriya's thigh. He didn't know that Shindo could be this nice and caring. The reassurance was comforting. Maybe he could go through with this. Taking another deep breath, he spoke.

"I'll do it."

Shindo tilted his head slightly to the side. "You sure? I'll only do this if you really want to".

Midoriya smiled a bit. "Yeah I'm sure".

Shindo nodded at him. "Okay then but if you want to stop, you let me know, alright?"

"Okay" Midoriya replied.

Shindo was going to pull down Midoriya's pants again but realized that he had gotten soft again. He also realized that if Midoriya had never had sex with a guy, then there was something else he never had done either.

Shindo slowly stood up, his body a little bent towards Midoriya. Midoriya didn't know what made him suddenly change his stance. Was something wrong?

"I take it you've never kissed a guy either, right?"

"No...", Midoriya said lowly, realizing that he hasn't. Having Shindo this close to his face was making his heart race more and he felt his face still hot from blushing but after seeing how reassuring Shindo was towards him, he was sure this time that he wanted him. He wanted to taste him somehow. This was the moment to finally experience how kissing a guy felt.. His eyes stared at his lips, lips barely brushing each other. He waited for Shindo to make the move.

"Come here then" Shindo said as his hand found his way under Midoriya’s undercut and motioned his lips to the other. The kiss was sweet at first, then slowly started to intensify when Midoriya felt Shindo's tongue pass his lips. Their tongues slid into each other's mouth, Midorya tasting what he assumed was some candy Shindo had in his mouth before this. The taste was so good and he could feel his body tingle and get hot as he got hard again. His hand found their way to Shindo's hair as he tugged him closer than he already was, desperate to feel more. The experience was definitely different for him, yet he liked it. A soft moan escaped his lips as they continued to make out, Shindo's free hand sliding down Midoriya's body to stroke his print slightly. After a few seconds more, Shindo pulled back, a string of saliva connecting the two.

Shindo brushed his thumb against his lips to wipe off the saliva. He looked down and noticed Midoriya’s eyes were half lidded and filled with lust. Midoriya would have kept going, had Shindo not pulled away.

"Shit man... you're a pretty good kisser," Shindo said. Midoriya looked down Shindo's body and saw he was hard as well. He could only wonder what his dick looked like underneath.

"You too", Midoriya said, slightly out of breath.

Shindo resumed his position of being crouched down at Midoriya’s legs with one knee touching the floor, ready to pull his pants down. He looked at Midoriya, his eyes questioning if he was sure, to which Midoriya nodded in return.

Pulling his pants down slowly along with his boxers, his cock sprang out which made Shindo grin again. He continued to pull his pants all the way down until they were off and tossed them to the side, leaving only his socks on. His focus went back to Midoriya’s dick, as he grabbed it in his hand to have a closer look. It was of average size with a nice pink tip. He had some hair in his pubic area, which didn't matter too much to him. He liked what he saw anyways.

"So pretty and pink", he said.

Midoriya had his finger on his lip as he bit down on it a bit. Shindo's hand was warm, making his cock twitch again in his hand.

"Spread your legs a bit for me", Shindo instructed, then noticing how many freckles he had on his thighs, to which he found cute. Midoriya listened to him.

Never taking his eyes off of him, Shindo took his place between his legs and lowered his mouth onto Midoriya's cock, his lips closing around the tip. Midoriya gasped at the feeling, since his mouth felt so warm around him. He kept his hand around his mouth softly as if he was holding in his moans and other sounds.

Shindo continued sucking at a slow and steady pace, wanting Midoriya to feel every moment of this fully. He watched for signs of discomfort as a precaution but also looked for signs of pleasure to which he found. Midoriya's eyes closed from time to time and his lower body bucked up, feeling not only pleasure but the need for Shindo to take him in more.

Shindo got the memo and slid his mouth down his length more. He tongue slid up and down his underside, gripping the base of his dick to keep it steady in his mouth. Excess saliva began to build up in his mouth, the sounds of him sucking filling up the room. He could hear little whimpers from Midoriya’s lips, but not loud enough like he wanted to. He decided to try something different. Popping his dick out of his mouth, he heard a whine from Midoriya as if asking why he stopped.

"I want to try something, if you'll let me. Spread your legs higher and let them lay on the arm rest of the chair".

Shindo immediately could tell that Midoriya got shy and embarrassed, seeing how slow and unsure he was of himself as he moved his legs up.

"Hey, relax... I'm gonna take care of you", Shindo said softly. "Nothing to feel embarrassed about".

Attempting to relax himself, Midoriya let his legs rest on the arm chair as he was told but Shindo took his right leg and let it rest on his shoulder instead. He couldn't deny that he was still embarrassed being exposed like this infront of Shindo but he believed in his words. He waited to see what Shindo would do next.

Having his mouth still filled with excess saliva, he let spit drip down from his mouth and onto his fingertips on his right hand. He then looked up at Midoriya.

"This might feel uncomfortable, let me know if you want me to stop, okay?"

"O-okay", Midoriya replied, stumbling over the word. He had never been fingered before, so this definitely was new. Bracing himself for what was to come, Shindo rimmed his entrance with his fingertips coated in saliva. It felt slimey to Midoriya, but thankfully it wasn't cold since Shindo's mouth was warm. Shindo then began moving his pointer finger inside of him, which made Midoriya's breath hitch again and he immediately tightened up around him.

"Relax, relax", Shindo instructed, his voice still soft to keep Midoriya calm.

He pumped his finger in and out of him to get him used to the feeling which left Midoriya letting out a few "haah's" and tiny whimpers in the process. Shindo slowly stroked Midoriya's cock which had been left unattended for some time, before deciding that he could try to add another finger in.

He slid in another finger, in which Midoriya hissed at the intrusion but moaned when Shindo continued to pump two fingers in and out of him and then scissors his fingers inside to open him up. He began leaving kisses and gentle sucks on his dick tip while he did so. Midoriya clutched his sweater with his left hand on his chest, wondering how he had never thought about experiencing this before. No, the timing wasn't right. The person wasn't right. It was meant to be this way. He was meant to experience this with Shindo.

Shindo spit again on his fingers to add more lube to them before adding a third finger slowly, stretching Midoriya out even more than he already was and made him moan a little louder. He pumped into him a little faster, the squelching sound of saliva and moans filling up the room. Shindo was impressed honestly. He had thought that Midoriya would have told him to stop by now but he didn't. Oh how his cock ached in his boxers, feeling precum build up at the tip but he let himself focus on Midoriya for now. His own pleasure would come later.

"Look at you, you're doing so good. I got three fingers in you already" Shindo praised.

"Haah.. y-yea", Midoriya moaned. He did feel good, not only physically but mentally that he was able to do this and felt good about having someone care for his needs.

"Hey... is there another name I can call you besides Midoriya?", Shindo asked as he teasingly kissed and sucked the underside of Midoriya’s tip slowly while staring into his eyes.

"Ahh... uh.. D-Deku", he replied.

"Deku.... did I ever tell you what kind of quirk I have?"

Midoriya's eyes continued to be in a state of opening and closing and the sensation of being fingered and having his dick sucked. He left his eyes half lidded, trying to think of his quirk but still being lost in pleasure.

"N-no you didn't", he huffed out.

"Well, I can make anything I touch vibrate. But I'll have you know that it's good for other things besides combat. Wanna see?"

Midoriya opened his eyes the best way he could, trying to understand what else his quirk could possibly be used for. He nodded in response.

Suddenly, Shindo's hands began to vibrate, his fingers making his insides tremble as he stopped pumping them and kept them in a downwards position for Midoriya to feel. His hand on his dick also began to vibrate, sending a wave of pleasure throughout Midoriya's body.

"Ahhhhhh", Midoriya cried out, his breathing becoming faster with every passing second as he clutched his sweater tighter and his eyes were forced shut. Shindo kept his mouth on his dick tip but slowly moved his hand up and down Midoriya's length, allowing him to feel the sensation of the vibration everywhere. The way his three fingers vibrated inside of him were making his legs shake. It was hard to keep them open and Shindo took notice.

"Keep those legs open for me Deku", he instructed, nudging his shoulder to the left to keep Midoriya from closing his legs on him.

"S-Shindo... ah"

"Call me Yo. We're personal now", Shindo said, shooting him a smirk.

"Mmm.. ahh.. ah.. Yo", Midoriya panted. He felt himself close to cumming. He was still holding back from making too much noise, which didn't make sense to Shindo because it was just the two of them alone.

"You don't have to keep quiet y'know. I wanna hear more of how good I'm making you feel", Shindo explained.

"I'm.. close", Midoriya replied. Shindo then knew that there could be one thing that would get Midoriya to make the noises that he wanted to.

Having his fingers in a downward position this whole time, he decided to turn them upwards and press against Midoriya's prostate. He also increased the pressure of his fingers and the vibrations coming from his hand.

Midoriya cried out even louder, never feeling a sensation as good as this. He didn't know what changed, what was making him feel so good. His hands left his face and sweater as he clutched the arm rest of the chair hard and tilted his head back. His legs were violently shaking now, his voice no longer being held back by his hand.

"Ahhhh.. Yo! Ahhh!!", he wailed as he arched his back on the chair. His moans were music to Shindo's ears as he finally heard what he wanted to hear.

"That's it baby, let me hear you." He fingered his entrance harder, rubbing against his prostate each time, which had Midoriya seeing stars.

"I'm gonna cum", Midoriya cried out. His face was beet red, his voice shuttering and crying out from time to time. He felt the need to release himself, to no longer hold back.

"Cum for me baby, let me see how much you got for me", Shindo said lowly. His voice was too sexy for Midoriya to handle. Shindo kept his mouth on the underside of his dick tip, waiting for his release.

"Ahhh!!", Midoriya yelled out as thick ropes of cum shot out from his dick. Shindo had moved back slightly to allow himself to see how much cum Midoriya had for him but still slowly milked his cock as his cum came out. His body continued to shake as his orgasm ripped through his body, his vision turning white at the feeling.

Turning off his quirk, Shindo slowly removed his fingers from Midoriya’s hole as he examined how soaked they were in saliva. His other hand was coated in cum, not that he complained. He was pleased with himself that he could make Midoriya feel so good, especially knowing that this was his first time experiencing it. He looked up to check on Midoriya, whose head was still leaning back against the chair.

"Hey, you alright up there?" Shindo asked.

Midoriya couldn't even speak. All he could do was raise his hand into a thumbs up as he continued to try to control his breathing. Shindo laughed.

"Ha, well that's good then. You made a pretty big mess on me here. Glad to see I could make you feel so good".

Shindo stood up, which made Midoriya open his eyes to look up at him.

"Let me clean my hands and then I'll come clean you up", Shindo said as he walked out the room. Midoriya was too exhausted to follow his trail with his eyes but stared at the ceiling while Shindo left. He loved the new experience that he felt, also realizing how funny it was at the same time that Shindo was basically a walking vibrator. He would have never guessed that he could use his quirk for that, let alone use a quirk during sex anyways. It was something he would keep in his head, instead of writing down in his notebook.

Shindo came back with his hands clean and a bottle of water to offer Midoriya. He accepted the bottle, drinking the water quickly as if he hasn't drank water in hours. Shindo had brought wipes from the bathroom and cleaned Midoriya up until Midoriya noticed something.

"You're still hard", he pointed out, looking at the budget in Shindo's pants.

Shindo stood up, folding the wipes in his hands as Midoriya set his legs down. He chuckled to himself.

"Well after all that, how could I not be", he smiled, looking down at Midoriya.

"Do you want me to...?", Midoriya asked, switching his view from Shindo to his bulge.

"Well you could but... I wanted to show you another way I could make you feel good", as he motioned his head towards the bed.

Midoriya looked at the bed and then back at him. After the intense orgasm that he had, he didn't know how else it could possibly feel better than that. He wasn't going to turn it down though.

He nodded his head, wanting to feel that experience again...

Tag List: @babydabi @bakugousidehoe @xsugarysweetsx @huntersbunker

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simon-pl600-501-743-923 · 4 years ago

Note

Autumn asks for the muse (and mun if you're happy to answer too): Crow - what's an unpopular opinion you have on autumn? Comfy - plaid shirts or demin jackets? Fresh Air - what's something you're thankful right now? Sweaters - what's your go to fall outfit?

Simon:

What’s an unpopular opinion you have on autumn? - The PL taps his bottom lip for a moment in thought. “An unpopular opinion...? That’s hard to say. I don’t have many negative thoughts on autumn. I suppose one would be that I don’t quite get the big deal about Thanksgiving as a holiday? I love the part where family and friends gather together and share things they are grateful for. But all the food. Why do humans like to set asside one day a year where they gorge themselves until they feel sick? That sounds like a horrible way to spend an otherwise happy day. But then, I’m an older model android and have never really had a chance to experience the hype about food. I just don’t have the feature to be able to digest anything. I have a very small chamber set aside for being able to taste test things when I make food for human’s to make sure I don’t burn it or anything of the sort, but that’s about it. I don’t get hungry or crave certain flavors though. So that part of Thanksgiving goes over my head a bit.”

Plaid shirts or denim jackets? - “Plaid shirts. Especially if they are made out of a soft fabric. Denim is too rough and heavy. Besides I like that with plaid shirts you can throw another jacket on over top of that as well as whatever shirt you are wearing underneath the plaid. More layers is better. I get cold easy.”

What’s something you’re thankful for right now? - Simon smiles, more than happy to answer this question and already having an answer prepared. “My family at New Jericho. Markus, North, Josh, and every other android we’ve taken in there to live in the apartments. Even Kara and Luther and Alice and Connor and all the other androids that don’t live at New Jericho with us. I still consider them family and am very grateful to have them in my life. I love and adore each and every one of them with all my heart.”

What’s your go to fall outfit? - “Usually a long sleeve shirt with a short sleeve button-up over top and some comfy jeans.” Simon looks down and gives a small, shy titter. “I also have a rather large collection of hoodies and sweaters that I’ve modified to have these little thumb holes.” He holds his hands out and wiggles his thumbs through the little sleevies of his sweatshirt with a sheepish smile, showing the garment off as an example. “I dunno why I like the little thumb holes so much, their just comfy I guess. Plus I think it looks cute. Sometimes I add the full fingerless glove extension to my sweaters when I sew them like this too.”

Mun:

What’s an unpopular opinion you have on autumn? - It’s not fucking Christmas yet. Get out of here with your radio carols and hallmark holiday movie marathon specials, at least until Halloween is over. Good lord. The goth kids gotta hold the line and keep you Santa babies from taking over before it’s your turn. As much as I love fluffy holiday spirit shit, that’s for winter time. Autumn is for my spooky people. Let us have our moment.

Plaid shirts or denim jackets? - Gotta side with Simon on this one. Pretty much word for word what he said.

What’s something you’re thankful for right now? - Honestly, my friends in the fandom here. My hyper fixation on this game is the only thing keeping me from going off the deep end right now. My life is complete shit. I won’t get into details and bog you down with it. Instead I’ll just say THANK YOU SO MUCH, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY YOU GUYS ALL MAKE ME, YOU HAVE LITERALLY SAVED MY LIFE IN THESE TRYING TIMES, ILU! ~<3

What’s your go to fall outfit? - I’m a basic jeans and t-shirt guy pretty much all year round. I have a huge collection of hoodies as well, but since I recently moved down south, I haven’t had a chance to break them out yet and may not get to until I move somewhere cooler again. Bruh, can you believe that this week San Antonio expects to get hit with a record breaking heatwave for this time of year? Not looking forward to it. I miss being able to wear layers in fall.

#dbh rp blog #simon dbh #open asks #mun and muse

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 48

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @ocfairygodmother

She sleeps on the car ride from Broome, not even waking when he stops at a grocery store to pick up much needed supplies. One of his hoodies folded and being used as a pillow as her head rests against the window; body turned sideways, both legs draped across his thighs. She’s worn out; mentally AND physically. The worry and the stress -and the enormity of the current situation- has caused a host of issues. Sleep problems, migraines, nausea, dizziness. Part of him wishes it WERE possible -even remotely- for her to be pregnant; another baby so soon after Addie would be a relief compared to the other scenarios running through his mind. He hates that his mind goes there’ into the dark and fatalistic place. Losing your first born will do that to you; strip away your optimism while heightening your paranoia. Austin’s illness had blindsided him. What was suspected to be simply a stubborn and lingering flu bug turning out to something so much worse. The ferocity of his cancer had taken everyone -even the specialists- by surprise- and they’re been little they could do to contain it; to slow down the damage it was causing. Three months. That’s all that remained between diagnosis and death. And it’s left a lot of mental trauma in its wake, even ten years later. It’s Tyler’s worst nightmare; the thought of losing her to something completely beyond his control. A threat like Mahajan is one thing. He can fight back against that; his own actions being what dictates the outcome. But a serious and possibly life altering -or even threatening- illness? Where there’s nothing he can to stop it from taking hold and progressing? That’s a thought that’s almost too much to bear.

When they arrive at their destination he leaves her in the car, giving himself the opportunity to perform a ‘search and secure’. It’s both old habit AND necessity. Anytime he’s away from home due to the job he thoroughly investigates his surroundings, whether they’re familiar or not. In that line of work you can never be too careful. Always assume that someone is watching; looking for the weak spot in your defences so they can take advantage of them. It’s just part of the game; his many years spent in a dangerous and unpredictable lifestyle have left a permanent mark. And he hates that there’s an actual NEED for it now. Theirs targets on their backs and not even this -the place that was once home- is safe. It’s a very real possibility that there’s someone, or even a number of people, keeping their eyes on them. With Mahajan’s money, he can afford to hire the best. He won’t use street thugs or rookies that will only make mistakes. He’d send people that know how to get the job done.

While the old homestead is wide open, it DOES offer some sense of security A surprise attack would be near impossible to carry out. His hearing is sharp; he’d hear tires on the gravel, the squeak of the rusted metal gate, the crunching of dirt and stone under heavy feet. The tree line is sparse and would provide little to no cover, and the mountains are rough and unforgiving even to those who are familiar with them. And even if someone did manage to navigate the terrain, they’d have to be one hell of a good shot. Not even the best of marksmen would find it easy; guys like G with extensive sniper experience. And it’s those thoughts that give at least some sort of comfort. He’s experienced; confident in his strength and his skills. He knows the land; able to navigate it and use it to his advantage.

Mahajan would know that; his guys wouldn’t last long in the unfamiliar terrain and he would hesitate on sending them there. But there’s still a chance he would, and that’s not a gamble Tyler is willing to take. So he checks the house and all of the outbuildings; anywhere that someone could possibly hide. And as he slowly and methodically walks the perimeter, his eyes scan the treeline and the mountain range; looking for anything that looks even remotely suspicious. His hearing is sharp and keen; listening for any unusual or unfamiliar noise. There’s nothing. Just the faint rumble of thunder in the distance and the sounds of rustling trees and bushes as the breeze passes through them.

Esme’s awake when he returns; still sitting in the car and watching him through her side mirror. It’s why they work so well together. Not just her knowledge of the job and all the danger and unpredictability that comes with it, but her knowledge of HIM. After almost seven years, she knows how his mind works and trusts him -and his instincts- implicitly. She would have known upon waking and finding herself alone exactly what he was up to. And her own time in the game - her experience with working side by side with mercs and seeing how they think and operate- would have her staying where she is until the ‘all clear was given’. They always seem to be in sync with one another; common experiences and their shared life always ensuring that they function as a team. It’s what makes them as strong as they are together, he supposes. They know the other’s next moves before they even begin to execute them; often aware of what the other is thinking or getting ready to say.

She waits until he’s a foot from the car before she pops open her door and steps out. “Everything good?” she asks, and then stretches noisily; bottom of her tank top rising up as she brings her arms over her head and revealing a slice of pale, smooth skin.

She complains about it often. Fretting over her stomach being nowhere as trim and smooth as it used to be. Lamenting the stretch marks that carrying five babies have left behind. And it’s not he’s never noticed them; often tracing them with his fingers or the tip of his tongue. It’s that he doesn’t see them the way she does. Those so called imperfects are reminders; badges of honor. That she’d sacrificed her body to give him children. She’s carried life inside of her. That they’d made together. And that realization only makes her more beautiful in his eyes. You never fully appreciate how strong and selfless the woman you love is until you’ve seen her pregnant. And you don’t think you could possibly love her more than you already do and then she becomes a mother and everything intensifies.

“Everything’s good,” he confirms, and then lays a palm against her stomach and leans down to kiss her. Frowning when she pushes his hand away and then yanks down the front of her shirt. “What?” She’s been extra self conscious since having Addie. Often refusing to even take off her shirt when they make love.

“You know I don’t like my tummy.”

“Well I do. So…”

“You’re weird,” she says, and then moves his hand to her side when he once again attempts to lay it against her stomach.

“YOU’RE weird.”

“Yeah, but you knew that seven years ago and you still married me. So you only have yourself to blame.”

“I’m pretty happy with my decision,” Tyler says, and covers her mouth with his.

The kiss is slow and deep as his hand slides around to the small of her back and then down onto her ass; squeezing tightly as his body leans into hers and presses her into the side of the car. Tasting a mixture of strawberry flavored lip gloss and a hint of the white wine she’d had on the plane. And while she’s the only woman he’s been intimate with -in any way or form- in the past seven years, no two kisses ever feel the same. Her lips are soft and familiar. The kind of familiarity that is never dull or boring but always makes you feel welcome and safe. Like a favorite hiding place as a child or that one sweater that is well worn and loved, yet still makes you warm and comfortable when you wear it. Every kiss...every touch...even every smile she gives him...brings him back to that. It feels like...home. And even after the kiss ends he stays tightly pressed against her, eyes closed as his hands move up to the middle of her back. Enjoying the feel of her body move against his as she perches on her tiptoes, her arms wrapped around his neck.

“So there were no bad guys lying in wait?” Esme teases, when he finally breaks away and tosses open the back passenger door. “Or did you already find and beat the shit out of them?”

“Now I know where Millie gets that talk from,” Tyler grins, as he pulls duffels and grocery bags from the back seat.

“She knows you’re an expert on kicking asses, just like I do. She knows there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to protect her.”

“I WILL break someone in half if they mess with her. Any guy that breaks her heart is going to regret the day he was born.”

“Now you’re actually admitting she’ll eventually meet boys. That’s progress for you. You’re so worried about her, what are you going to do when your sons start having girls calling at all hours of the day? Or if they get someone pregnant and make us grandparents way too young.”

“I’ll kick their asses is what I’ll do. Tanner says he wants two wives when he grows up.”

“Men can’t keep one woman happy, never mind two at once. Present company excluded. You’ve become very good at towing the line and keeping me happy.”

“It’s not that hard. All I have to do is either say ‘yes dear’ or ‘no dear’ or even just smile and nod. I just have to bring you tacos, gets the snakes and spiders out of the house, clean the toilets, and fuck you good. I’ve managed so far, haven’t I?”

“Might not now that I know your secret,” she teases. “Although the last part you’ve always been excellent at. Even when things were really bad, that was always really good. And we least we have SOME consistency.”

She’s right. Even when things went to shit and were at their very worst and they were fighting and a permanent end seemed like a very real possibly, sex had been the one thing they could rely on. When all the arguing and the harsh words and the animosity were temporarily put on hold and the bodies did all the communicating for them. It wasn’t a healthy way of dealing with things, but it was THEIR way of dealing. And coping.

“****

“It hasn’t changed THAT much,” she comments; eyes surveying the exterior of the shack as they work together to carry the bags inside. “Other than a new roof and a touch of paint, it’s pretty much what I remember. Kind of weird, don’t you think? Being back here together?”

“Never thought about it.”

“Do you ever miss it? Being here?”

“Why would I? My life’s a lot better now.”

“You’re not for sentiment, are you. You don’t feel anything? Doesn’t it bring back ANY memories?”

“Other than the day we met? Not many.”

There’s not much to fondly look back on. When he was actually home, most of his days were spent in a booze and pain med induced haze. Or he was passed out. There are weeks, even months, that he can’t remember, aside from taking any job Nik brought his way; devoting himself to one suicide mission after another.

“Everything was shit before you came along,” Tyler admits, as he presses his back against the door to hold it open. “I was shit. You wouldn’t have wanted to know me. I don’t think you realize just how big of a mess I actually was.”

Dhaka changed everything. Most just the moments on the bridge and getting shot by Farhad or the months of recovery forcing him to get clean and sober. Or finding out that he was having a kid. But those five days in that dirty hotel room. When he actually started feeling alive again instead of simply just existing.

“I think you’re too hard on yourself,” Esme counters as she steps past him, intentionally too close so her body slides against his and the back of her hand brushes over the front of his shorts. “I know you had your issues, but you weren’t a lost cause. Look how far you’ve come in seven years. If you’d really wanted to give up...if you'd really wanted to die...you would have found a way to do it long before I came along.”

“Maybe,” he says, as he drops the duffel bags in the bedroom area and then joins her in the kitchen where she begins putting the groceries away.

“There had to be some reason you didn’t do it,” she reasons. “If you were THAT bad off and wanted to die, you would have done it. You had guns in the house; you could have used them and just been done with it.”

“Maybe I was just a coward and couldn’t get up the balls to do it myself.”

“I don’t believe that. You are not a coward. You’re the furthest thing from being a coward. A coward doesn’t do the things you do. A coward runs away from those things, or they’re the ones that cause them in the first place. Guys like Asif and Mahajan? They’re the cowards. Getting other people to do their dirty work; preying on the vulnerable, ruining lives. You get people away from guys like that. You try to stop these things. You aren’t a coward.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about Mahajan? Or the job.”

“I’m trying to make a point. My husband is NOT a coward. You’re basing that off of one mistake you made. You were twenty five years old when Austin died. You made a bad decision. A horrible decision. But do you pay for it for the rest of your life? You’re a different person now. Say one of our kids get sick.”

“Esme…”

“I know it’s your worst fear, but hear me out. Hypothetically speaking, if one of them got sick, would you take off? Or if I got sick. Would you haul ass on out of here?”

“Of course not. I’m not who I was back then.”

“Exactly. Way back then. When you were thirty one and had a shitty wife that had seen more pricks than a pin cushion.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that. “That’s a pretty accurate description, actually.”

“You’re almost forty one now.” she continues. “You’re NOT the same guy. At all. And you’re not a coward. You never have been. You know how you always say I need to stop talking shit about myself and try to see myself through your eyes? Well you should do the same. Because the way you look at yourself? That is not the way I look at you. Or how your kids look at you. You’re not a bad person, Tyler. Regardless of what you think.”

He steps behind her now, reaching over her to help put things on the shelves she can’t reach.

“Something inside of you told you to stay alive.” she says. “Maybe it was telling you that things were going to get better. Maybe it was saying there was something...someone...out there that was going to give you a reason to keep going. I don’t know. But I do know that if you had really wanted to die, you would have done it.”

“I think you think too much about stuff like this.”

“You knew what I was like. You had your chance to get away and you didn’t take it. Now look. Now look how deep you’re stuck in it.”

“Yeah…” he lays his hands on her shoulders, kneading and massaging the tight muscles. “...five kids is pretty deep in it.”

“You think?” she scoffs.

“You know what would put me even deeper in it? Six kids.”

Esme turns around to face him, leaning back against the cupboards, hands on the counter top. “We are NOT talking about that either. It’s way too soon after Addie. She’s only five weeks old.”

“Millie was only eight weeks old when you got pregnant with the boys,” he reminds her.

“Even if we wanted another one this soon, we can’t. That can’t happen because we decided no more babies after Addie and you went and got the old…” she holds up a hand and mimics scissors open and closing with her index and middle finger.

“I’ll call the doctor when we get back. See what has to be done.”

“This is not the time to be talking about this.”

“Seems like as good a time as any. It’s just me and you. No one to interrupt.”

“You know what I’m talking about. With everything that’s happening right now, with everything that IS going to happen, this is not the time to be talking about having another baby.”

She doesn’t need to say it; the implication hanging heavily in the air. Every job you take on is unpredictable. Each one comes with its own set of hazards and burdens. Not once has he gotten out of one without some kind of injury; whether it be as simple as stitches or a concussion or a busted nose or a broken bone. Sometimes things were worse; knife wounds, bullets you have to dig out of various parts of your body. But what’s coming up...Mumbai...it’s as dangerous and risky as it gets. There’s no real game plan; just arm yourself to the teeth and hope for the best. But she’s right. It isn't the time to talk about adding to their family. Or even consider it. Because nothing would be worse than deciding to go for it and then him not making it back home.

“When you get back,” she says, as her hands slide across his shoulders and down his chest, a somewhat confident smile curving her lips. “Once you get things done and you’re home, then we’ll discuss it. Once everything is finished and calm and we don’t worry about this anymore.” Her hands reach his waist, slipping under the front of his t-shirt and resting on his belt. “I mean, there will ALWAYS be something to worry about now that you’re back in things and we have the business and…”

“But nothing like this. This? Everything that’s going on? This is…”

“Fucked?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Things will be okay” her smile is brighter now; eyes sparkling up at him. “You’ll go there and you’ll do what you need to do, and then you’ll come home. And then things can go back to normal. Our version of normal.”

He nods in agreement, his bottom lip between his teeth as he combs his fingers through her hair and then tucks it behind her ears.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she says, as his hands come to rest on her shoulders and his thumbs brush along her jaw. “I know that look, Tyler. I’ve seen that look before. That’s the look you gave me before you sent me off with Ovi and Saju, That EXACT same look. And we both know how things almost ended that THAT time.”

He wants to tell her that everything is going to be okay. That it’s as simple as picking a name from a list and tracking their owners down. But the truth of the matter is that nothing is ever that easy. Every job comes with complications and its glitches no matter how boring and routine they’re supposed to be. He might manage to get to two or three of the guys before Mahajan catches on and realizes who is responsible. After that the bounty on his head will increase significantly and moving around the city without being recognized will be complicated. Every gun in Mumbai will be trained on him, and that’s a hell of a thing to escape.

“You promise me,” she orders. “You promise me you’re coming home.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

“Promise me,” she demands, both hands yanking at his belt, pulling him closer to her. “Promise me, Tyler.”

“I can’t,” he says, then presses a kiss to her forehead before drawing her into his arms.

****

They lay in a mess of tangled and rumbled sheets and sweat soaked limbs; stifling heat and the smell of sex hanging heavily in the air. Both sated and spent and resting on their sides, her back tucked into his front, their tightly joined hands resting on next to her head. Bodies and hair damp from perspiration; one of his thicker and heavier legs draped over hers and the top of his nose pressed against the nape of her neck. He can’t remember a time where he’s felt THIS relaxed; every muscle, every tendon, every ligament feeling loose and at ease. The pain in his back, shoulder, and knee nothing more than a light throbbing; a far cry from the stiffness and the agony that often makes getting out of bed in the morning seen like an insurmountable chore. Yet his senses remain sharp. Hearing her soft, slow breathing and the fluttering and flapping of the curtains as the breeze flows through open windows. Smelling the mix of sweat and other bodily fluids and the remnants of shampoo that cling to her hair. Still tasting her on his lips and his tongue and feeling the softness of her skin with her back against his chest and his thumb repeatedly brushing against hers.

These moments...the stillness and the quiet that exist after they make love...are rare these days. Their lives busy and full; the demands of raising a family often stripping away any real alone time and any form of true intimacy. There’s no one to blame for that; it is what it is. They often forget that their roles in each other’s lives extend far past just making babies and taking care of them together. And he’s missed these times. When things aren’t so hectic and their lives don’t seem so chaotic and all they have to worry about is each other. It’s been almost six years since they’ve been child free. Almost seven since those five days in Dhaka.

Of all the shitty and horrible things that had happened there…all the lives taken...how close he’d come to his own demise…it’s still nice to think about those moments in that cramped and dirty hotel room. Where he’d felt the first of the walls he’d built up around slowly crumbling down around him. It was the first time in years that he’d felt THAT alive. Where someone didn’t look at him with disgust or pity. He’d always seen on Nik’s face; written as plain as day. How disappointed she was in him; how big of a mess he’d made of himself and his life. Yet she’d never balked when it came to fucking him. Maybe she’d seen it as a form of charity; believing she was doing him a favor and lowering her standards by hooking up with the hired help. Yet in Dhaka, with Esme, he’d been both surprised -and slightly terrified- at how well they connected. It had never been that smooth and easy, especially with a woman. He’d spent years avoiding forming bonds with who he slept with; leaving almost as soon as the deed was finished and never looking back.

It had been different. SHE had been different. And he found he smiled more when he was around her. Laughed easier. He didn’t feel judged for his choice of career or the mistakes he’d made; especially when his son was dying. He found he liked the sound of her voice and the feel of her body pressed against his in bed and the way she’d smile at him whenever he returned to the room. Dhaka had been the first time where he actually enjoyed the moments after sex. Those sleepy conversations and how easy it was to share even the deepest and darkest of secrets with her. And on the fourth day he’d found himself actually hopeful about something; confident that once they were out of Bangladesh and away from the job, they could make something out of whatever the hell was happening between them. It SHOULD have been just another job. Get the information, get out, get home. But it had quickly turned into something so much more. Two broken and damaged people somehow finding comfort and solace during such a crazy, unpredictable time.

“Tyler?” she asks now, and his eyes snap open and he presses a kiss to the back of her head.

“Yeah?”

“Are you awake?”

“Would I have answered if I wasn’t?”

“Don’t be such a smart ass,” she grumbles.

He chuckles into her hair. “I’m awake..”

“I think we should agree right now that we never…ever…tell Koen we christened his kitchen table.”

He laughs. “I agree.”

It had been intense. A brief but heated argument over his refusal to promise he was coming home turning into a quick hard fuck; her bent over the table and her hair clutched tightly in his first. The second time -after carrying her to bed still buried inside of her- had been slow and lazy; wandering hands and long, deep kisses and two rounds of foreplay followed languid, attentive love making.

“You finally got your kitchen table fantasy fulfilled,” she says. “Only took you seven years. Was it what you imagined it would be?”

He smiles against the back of her neck. “It was even better.”

“It’s weird being here with you.”

“Yeah?” He places a kiss to her shoulder, then her temple. “Why?”

“Not weird in a bad way. Just weird. This is where we met. Almost seven years ago. And we’re here and we’re totally different than we were back then. In so many ways.”

He nods in agreement. “If anyone had have told me that my fake wife would end up my real wife, I would have told them they were fucking crazy. That was the last thing I ever thought I’d do again. Get married.”

“I told myself I never WOULD do it again. That there wasn’t any man on the planet that could convince me to try it a second time. And...well...look where we are now.”

“Guess I should be lucky that Gaspar was out of the game. That’s who Nik went to first.”

“Oh god,” Esme groans. “I would have had to have been fake married to HIM?”

“Afraid so.”

“Well my Dhaka experience would have gone entirely differently if that had happened. Because there was no way he would have gotten the same treatment you did.”

Tyler grins and nuzzles the tip of his nose against her ear, then kisses it. “He wasn’t your type?”

“Eww! No! What is wrong with you? I do have standards, you know. Thank God he said no. I’m going to have nightmares now. Thanks, Tyler.”

“I’ll help you sleep better.”

“I’m sure you will. You know, to be fair, I didn’t want to be fake married to anyone. I thought the entire thing sounded ridiculous.”

“See. We DO agree on things.”

“I’m just glad you turned out better than I thought you would.”

“How you mean?”

“You know how you hear stories and rumours about someone and you create a picture in your mind? Of what they’re going to look like?”

Tyler nods.

“Well you totally did NOT look like what I pictured.”

“What did you picture?”

“I thought you’d be older. Much older. Rough looking. Weathered. Mean, even. I was not expecting you to look like you do. I was pleasantly surprised, to say the least. I changed my mind very quick about Nik’s idea.”

“You at least knew beforehand. I had it dropped on me. And she was fucking sneaky about it, too. Had me agreeing to get the kid before telling me about everything else. I didn’t have a choice after that. I was in whether I liked it or not. I couldn’t exactly back out.”

“Yeah, I saw the look on your face. When Nik talked about what she wanted us to do. You were NOT happy.”

“I’d already been real married,” he says. “Why would I want to be fake married?”

“Well for one, it doesn’t cost money to get a fake divorce.”

He grins. “Good point.”

“Was it THAT awful? The thought of being fake married to me? To be THAT pissed about it? Geez. Thanks.”

“That’s not what I was pissed about. It was the whole thing. The whole idea. It seemed fucked up. It still seems fucked up when I think about it. But it wasn’t about you. It was NEVER about you.”

“It scared you. Knowing you’d have to be THAT close to someone. You didn’t like that idea, did you? That I’d be that close. You were worried about what I’d think about you. If I saw you drinking and taking the meds. You didn’t want me seeing all of that. Seeing YOU.”

“That’s pretty much it,” Tyler agrees.

“But you still went along with it. You could have changed your mind.”

“I could have. But I didn’t. What guy is going to turn down five days in a hotel room with you?”

She snorts. “Bold of you to just assume that I’d sleep with you.”

“I didn’t assume anything. I was a little hopeful. I’ll admit that.”

“Just a little?”

“I was there to do a job. Not get laid. But someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“I am not accepting blame for any of it,” Esme laughs. “You made the first move. You’re the one that had me pressed up against a wall. With your hand around my throat.”

“That wasn't a sexual ploy. I was pissed.”

“You were so hot. IT was so hot.”

He chuckles.

“And you kissed me first, so…”

“You kissed me back. You could have punched me in the face or kneed me in the dick. But you didn’t. You went along with it. So you’re just as much to blame as I am.”

“Bullshit!” she argues. “You seduced me and you know it, Tyler.”

“You and I remember that day very differently.”

“You seduced me with your stupidly handsome face and your stupidly ripped body and stupidly beautiful blue eyes.”

He grins and presses a kiss to her shoulder. “Sorry.”

“They were the first thing I noticed about you,” she says. “Your eyes. I was on the porch with the dog, and when I looked up you were watching me. At first you were so intense and then you actually smiled at me. It was a little smile, but it was still a smile.”

“I liked what I saw.”

“I remember thinking ‘god he has beautiful eyes’. And then you turned around to say something to Nik and I got to see that you had a really nice ass too. I was sold right there and then. Beautiful eyes and an ass that looks like that? Sign me up. Maybe this fake husband thing won’t be so bad after all. And then I noticed the hair and the arms and the hands.”

“The hands?”

“You have beautiful hands.”

Frowning, his fingers release the grip on hers and he holds his hand out with the fingers played. Palm down first, then up. “You call that beautiful?” The calluses, the misshapen knuckles; the scars from surgeries, various fights, knife wounds, and from when he’d repeatedly yanked out his IV in the hospital.

“Very beautiful,” she says, and places her palm flat against his; the size difference in their hands both surreal and humorous. “Because they’re your hands. They’re Tyler’s hands. I know what they’re capable of and I know how they feel. I’ve seen them braid a little girl’s hair and rock babies to sleep and clean skinned knees. They’re very beautiful hands.”

Smiling, he lifts his head long and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You were so different,” he recalls. “Than anyone I’d ever met. Especially out here.”

“Different in a good way or…?”

“A very good way. I didn’t know who you were or what you were doing here, but all of sudden you were out there on my porch and I was watching you and listening to you with my dog. It was almost like it wasn’t real. Mind you, I was pretty fucked up on booze and Oxy and it would have made sense if I’d been hallucinating.”

She gives a small, dry laugh.

“But you were. Different. I saw the ink and the piercings and those huge dark eyes and I thought ‘fuck, she’s cute’.”

She groans.

“There is nothing wrong with being called cute. You WERE cute. You still are. You were cute and you were small and you had all those piercings and all those tats. Like part good girl, part bad girl. Certainly wasn’t expecting the likes of you to wander through my door that day. I’m glad you did though.” He presses a kiss to her temple. “VERY glad you did. Sorry I was such a dick.”

“You were fine. You seemed more annoyed with Nik than with me. And you offered me a drink. Two drinks, actually.”

“I knew the second you downed the first one that I was in trouble.”

She laughs at that, then rolls over to face him. “I have a confession to make.”

“Okay…”

“Promise me you won’t laugh?”

“Why would I laugh?”

“It’s a little...I don’t know...weird. Maybe even a little off putting.”

“Alright…”

“That night...when Nik and I got back to the hotel in Fitzroy Crossing...I was going to call you.”

“For what?”

She arches both eyebrows and stares at him pointedly.

“Oh…oh...THAT. You were going to call for THAT.”

“I was,” she admits, and then buries her face in his chest and giggles.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I have a huge fear of rejection. If I’d called and you said no…”

“I would NOT have said no.”

“...it would have made working together extremely awkward.”

He pushes a hand through her hair; those fine, soft, dark tresses slipping slowly through his fingers. “You should have called.”

“You would have showed up?”

“I definitely would have showed up.”

“Wouldn’t it have made things weird between us? If we’d hooked up that night, wouldn’t it have made working together...I don’t know...difficult?”

“Why would I? I still would have fucked you in Dhaka. That wouldn’t have changed.”

“Change one thing, everything changes. You always say that.”

“I don’t think THAT would have changed. Why wouldn’t I have wanted to in Dhaka? You think I would have been able to stop at one night? You’re underestimating your own skills.”

“What if you’d been disappointed? What if you showed up in Fitzroy Crossing and the sex sucked and you didn’t want more once we got to Dhaka?”

“That wouldn’t have happened.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I DO know that. I wasn’t disappointed the first time in Dhaka, right?”

“That’s a very good point. I’ll give you that. But…”

“There’s no buts. I would have showed up, I wouldn’t have disappointed, and things would have stayed the same in Dhaka. We wouldn’t have Millie if things DIDN’T happen Dhaka.”

“She’s the only good thing that came out of that place.”

“I don’t know about that. We’re pretty good.”

“Yes,” she smiles. “We ARE pretty good. I think we’re very good, actually.”

“We have our moments,” he agrees.

“We have more really good moments than we have bad moments. It’s just that we remember the bad before we remember the good.” She skims the knuckles of one hand along his jaw. “You’re letting it get longer. You’re unleashing your inner lumberjack again.”

“That’s how you like it best, right? You don’t like it like it when I trim it back.”

“I much prefer it like this. How it was when we met. Your hair’s growing in too. We’ll have to shave the back and the sides while we’re here.”

“I don’t ever want to hear you say I never do anything nice for you,” he chides.

“You shockingly do a lot of nice things for me. For a guy that’s such a bad ass that kills people with garden tools.”

Smirking, he wraps an around her waist and rolls onto his back, pulling her onto top of him. “You’re obsessed with that.”

“As psycho as it’s going to make me sound, it’s kind of a turn on. When I think about you kicking the shit out of people and getting all ragey and violent. I kind of like that side of you. Knowing what you’re capable of on the job. Probably because I know what you’re like when you’re NOT on the job and how different the two sides are. They’re both sexy in their own way. Job Tyler and domestic Tyler.”

“I think you have issues.”

“I do,” she grins, and pecks his lips. “A six foot three, two hundred and thirty pound issue.”

“I think I’m hovering at two forty. Maybe two forty five,”

“It’s your ginormous arms and shoulders and your big ass thighs. Sexy, big ass thighs, mind you. And your butt. It’s a great butt.”

“You said that already.”

“Great butts need to be told they’re great butts,” she reasons.

“This…” he runs his hands down her back and grabs her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “...is a great butt.”

“Not as great as it used to be,” she pouts. “ Having five kids will do that to you.”

“It’s still a great butt to me.”

“You’re very biased.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t make it less true.”

Smiling, she slides further up her body and kisses him. Soft and slow at first, then more demanding; tongue eagerly pushing its way into his mouth, fingers tightly gripping his hair as his own continue and squeeze and fondle the cheeks of her ass. And a low growl rumbles deep in his chest when she grinds her pelvis against his and he feels the stirring of his erection.

“You’re demanding.” he grins, fingertips digging almost painfully into her ass as she kisses and nibbles her away along his jaw, slowly making her way upwards.

“I think you should make love to me again,” she whispers into his ear, then traces the outer edge with the tip of her tongue.

Groaning, he lifts his hips from the bed, pressing his rapidly hardening cock against her before gripping her hips and flipping her over onto her back. A smirk on his face as both his hands and his mouth slowly descend her body, starting at the valley between her breasts.

“I think so too.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

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Mount Everest Ain’t Got Shit On Us (Fezco x fem!reader, Part 3.)

Description: You were always told that your life will be as you wish it to be if you’ll study enough. That it will pay off if you work hard. And some people were given you like the scary example of what will happen when you don’t obey. But sometimes it feels good to disobey.

A/N: As always, the chapter was written with my personal experience. Believe or not, I had a lot of people around me who were addicted (not cocaine but dexamfetamine or alcohol for that matter) and got through rehab at being 15 - 17 years old. I take all of these topics really seriously.

Word Count: 2.8 K

Warnings: The ups and downs of having a friend with a disorder like depression or BD. It's ok if you have that and to go through your ups and downs, nonetheless, you have friends who take you like the person as you are. No one will look at you through their fingers. We love you, ok? It will be alright. I have a friend who goes through a lot of shit at times and we got through together. Trust me. We love you.

Masterlist and declaration: H E R E

When you are a person with a disorder or abnormalities in your behavior, people tend to feel sorry for you. They think you're the weird one since the first time your diagnose prediction is written down on some piece of paper, you become the one who just can't live a normal life. But only you know that the bullshit they do or say will do nothing to help you with your state. Only the people and a shit load of pills can.

But when you are the friend of a person with a disorder, people see you as the holy one of the due. They usually say how unbelievable friend you are for taking their states as they are, that you are with them in their ups and downs when they are almost impossible to be around with. But you know that that is just another bullshit the people around you tend to do.

Making a saint out of you when you are only acting like a normal friend.

Why should matter that your friend has some mental state that is not completely taken as “A-ok”?

You love and adore them for the people they are not for the grace of the other people. You befriended them in the first place because you feel comfortable around them, because you love a part of them and because they make you happy. Not to be a better person in other people’s eyes. You didn't do it for the public attention or to be interesting.

You, Rue and Jules, became good friends just in one week. Jules was showing you photos of the outfits she liked and she would love to wear, some new make-up and she talked with you about her favorite show, making you watch it as well. Rue was more of that laid-back-cool clown person. She was funny and tried to make you laugh every time she felt she had her chance to do that.

They always waited for you and Fran in front of the school to pick you up and to be the chaperones for you, always cheering loudly when they saw your shithead face as Fran joked a lot about.

Meanwhile, you and Jules got along because she was enlightening you into everything she loved, Rue and you had similar clothing styles and you tend to like the same things - plus she had a serious thing for hip hop, Love Island and Morgan Freeman centered things.

You got used to your girls waiting for you. You got a thing to look forward to every morning you got to school. Fran told you that both of your girls looked cool as hell, she was eyeing Rue more or less shamelessly, Cal found Rue funny and befriended her younger sis Gia and your friends just were feeling good about you not being alone in the new town.

You probably should see it coming. You became friends with Rue when she was in her manic state - but it still shocked you a bit when you saw only Jules with her hair in a bun, a tight cropped top and a short skirt standing all alone in front of the school. You were scared what was up with Rue - she sent you a meme at four a.m. as she usually did before she went to sleep but she did not text you at six a.m. as she would normally do.

“Have a nice day, shitheads!” - Fran called, waving at the both of you.

“Enjoy your college, babe!” - Jules called back with a smile and Fran nodded with a big smile. She liked Jules because of how pure and honest she was with everyone. She truly was a great person to have around as a friend.

Jules caught your hand in hers, holding it while you two went through the hall leading into the school.

“Where’s my Morgan Freeman?” - You asked curiously, watching Jules’ shy smile.

“You know, sometimes the demons crawl back and take a hold on Rue. She’ll be good. Give her one or two days and just let her be. She’s gonna text us when she will feel like talking with us.” - Jules said in a calm tone. You could feel that this is not the first time that something like this happened to Rue while Jules was there.

But Rue was your friend and this happened for the first time you’ve known her - you naturally got worried about her.

“Are you sure about that? Shouldn’t we check on her or call Leslie?” - You asked quietly. You knew Leslie - she was on her cloud nine when Rue took you to her home to introduce her newest friend.

“Trust me. It will be better to leave her be. She’s gonna be just fine. But I have exciting news for you!” - Jules cheered up without warning, she let your hand go and let you open your box. - “We will be attending a party on Saturday at Maddy’s. All three of us is invited!” - She sang in a happy tone. You only saw Maddy from the distance and heard about her, but you never got to talk to her.

She was more or fewer friends with a blonde girl named Cassie who had seriously big boobs and a black-haired plus-sized girl named Kat. But from what Rue had said to you, it was not friendship as you knew it. All of them were bitches, but Jules and Rue had made a so-called fragile truce with them. Maddy for that matter kept her boyfriend Nate out of their presence and your girls helped them with the school subject.

Sometimes your trio became a quartet. Cassie’s sister Lexy came along. She was shy and quiet just like you at the start of your friendship, but you liked her pretty much. But it was a surprise to Maddy inviting you to her house at a party.

“What about Rue? Do you think she will make it?” - You asked and entwined your fingers with Jules again. Sometimes Rue held your hand, sometimes it was Jules. The did not ask - they just did. And after two weeks you got used to it. You started to take their hands as well, seeing nothing wrong with it. It seemed that nobody else noticed, so why?

“I can't predict the future. Maybe she will or maybe she won't, she has five days to recover so let’s give her all the time she needs. We will see. But if she does not make it, we will have ourselves a hell of a good time, what do you say?” - Jules asked and her eyes shined when she watched you.

“I will ask my parents. I will tell you tomorrow, deal?” - You smiled at her and pointed your pinkie at her. She circled it around with hers. - “Deal.” - She winked and her eyes shined at that little word.

While the morning was weird without Rue around, the afternoon was weirder because you had to walk home on your own feet. Fran had her first college classes and she just wasn't able to pick you up. And the bus was a big no-no for you. Since your dad was at work, no more options were really remaining.

It was quite a walk to your home and Jules couldn't go with you because of her dad, plus she had her bike, so you listened to some music while you walked. After a half of an hour, you were approaching the gas station. You were dying because of the hotness and you just desired some ice-cold drink.

You could take your hoodie off, but you didn't want to tear apart your outfit.

The feeling of shivers and excitement ran over you as you watched the gas station from twenty feet away or so. That boy. You have seen him a few more times - once he had a violet hoodie, once you had a colorful-stripped sweater and once he had a simple white shirt and a snap-back cap turned backward. Even though you’ve seen him many times, you never actually saw his face. A mysterious boy.

This moment could change everything. The air in your lungs got slowly out when you approached the door from a freezer which led to the shop inside of the gas station. There was a lot of things in a small place - a lot of drinks, snacks, baguettes and a hell of booze. Outside, there was a small shelve with cigarettes. More and more you thought that maybe this wasn't a gas station at all.

“Hey. Ya searchin’ for somethin’?” - A tired male voice freaked you out. You turned your head to the counter. It was the boy you were seeing almost every morning. He looked tired and he watched your face with an unfriendly look. He was suspicious about something.

His face was... Not what you expected.

You have seemed more handsome men, but he was somehow exciting. His baby blue eyes looked tired and flat, his lips were thin, but the language of his body told you that his looks should not lullaby you to feel safe. His hair was truly short with a long thick scar on the left side of his head, he had a short curly red beard. He reminded you of some Irishman - he had freckles and milk-white skin tone. Today, he had a rainbow hoodie on and a cigarette behind his ear.

“Just deciding what I want to drink.” - You sighed nervously and played with your hair, trying to memorize his face. He was something. Something interested you in his features and you wished to get to know him better than you did at the moment.

"Just a drink, rite?" - His tired voice repeated what you've said, looking you up and down with a slight frown.

"Just a drink." - You nodded and smiled at him, reaching out for some cherry flavored soda in one of the freezers.

Could it be? Could you crush on that boy without knowing his name or what did he do for a living? You felt unsure about that, yet you stood there and tried to find your purse. But it wasn't in your hoodie or the usual spot in your bag. You panicked and looked the man into eyes. Holy shit. You must've forgotten it in the cafeteria.

"Holy moly, looks like no cherry... Bubble paradise for me today." - You giggled with a slight panic in your voice. That was seriously cringy. The first time you've got to talk to him and you forgot your purse. You sighed, ready to get the drink back to the freezer and leave his small shop.

"Let it be. Bet it isn't the last time ya here. Ya can pay when ya come the next time." - He smiled a bit, which left you in awe, and took a small pad from his counter. There was a lot of sections in his pad, but he nonchalantly turned all the pages to the back of the pad to list named "debts" with big letters. - "Will not let go a lady without a drink when it's hella hot outside, would be rude, am I rite?" - He looked you in the eyes with an innocent look of a sheep. You smiled back at him.

"Tell me ya name, girl." - He clicked the pen with his eyes centered at your eyes going through his list. You saw Rue's name there as well, being repeated a serious number of times which made you sure of one thing - this man had to be cool. If he was Rue's friend, he meant no harm for you.

"Y/N, my name's Y/N and I would like to have a Cherry Bubble Paradises soda, please." - You smiled and he wrote down your name in surprisingly nice handwriting and added small 1.15$ in the end, then clicked his pen again.

"That's that. Pay me back when ya can, I wouldn't hunt down people for one dolla but I remember the debts in 'ere. I have a memory of ya face. Ya know?" - He looked at you one last time before closing the pad. You nodded and promised to pay back when you find your purse.

And you almost fainted when you got out of the shop. He was handsome in his own kind. The tiredness and slow, low voice made him mysterious and his flat eyes were a picture which you knew you won't forget for a long time. It was like he concentrated at nothing but you, but he looked into the distance all the time, being out of his own head.

You almost didn't drink any of that precious cherry-flavored soda during your way home. Like if he would change his mind and after you for his 1.15$ in cash. At home, when your phone automatically connected to wi-fi, a few texts from Jules appeared on your phone.

First was a photo of your hella old purse with Skullcandy logo on it. The next one was:

Babez ♥: You forgot this at the cafeteria, babe, forgot to give it back, will u come for it around 4? Luv ya.

Ma girl: Sure, will be at ur place in ten. Be ready babez. See ya there.

“I will go to see Jul.” - You leaned onto the counter, looking your ma into her face.

“The school ended an hour ago. You miss your besties that much?” - She laughed in response and continues to chop the pepper in small pieces.

“No. I forgot my purse back at cafeteria and Jules took it for me and now she has it. I have my ID and my money in it, it is just better to have it with me. It will take an hour or less, I swear.” - You begged. But Jules or the purse was not exactly the idea you got so excited for. You could ride back to the small store and pay your debt. And to see him once again.

“Oh, okay. You are right. You better get your purse back. Go, be back before dinner.” - Mom smiled at you.

“I will take Cal's bike!” - You yelled before taking off the house, sitting on Cal's bike and riding to Jules' house. They had a lovely house in a seriously quiet and calm neighborhood, so you could ride your bike through the middle of the street without being afraid of meeting a car. Jules was already waiting for you in front of the house, waving at you with a shy smile.

“I love you.” - You said and exhaled deeply, holding the bike with your thighs and taking the purse to you hoodie. Jules giggles and hugged you tightly.

“I will need to go home again. I'm sorry. I don't have much time to spare, babe.” - Jules said with a sad voice. You were sad as well because you loved to spare your time with Jules, but you also were looking forward to seeing the man and to give him his money.

“I will have to survive that. See you tomorrow.” - You left her there, riding off on your brother’s bike to the center of the town, making a run for all of it. But when you have stormed into the little shop, just a small boy was behind the counter, talking with the plus-sized girl you’ve been seeing at the school. He had tattoos under both of his eyes and seemed to be seriously out of this world, all serious thug and don't giving a single fuck.

“Hey.” - The girl turned at you and gave you a quick smile. Then she looked at the boy as you nodded at her to say hi to her as well. She quietly said something to him and left, patting you lightly onto your shoulder. She always smiled at you, so you found her nice.

“Who you?” - The boy sat on the counter, looking you down and up.

“Who am I? No one, your friend sold me a lemonade on a debt so I’m here to pay for it.” - You held your purse high and smiled a bit. The boy nodded, reaching out for the pad, taking a pencil from behind his ear.

“Y/N?” - He looked at you for a second as you gave him the money you have promised. You said a quick and quiet “yeah” before he stroke your name out of the list. You gave him the money and nodded, leaving the shop with a small frown.

You were not glad that boy with the flat eyes was gone and you didn't manage to see him for the second time.

#fezco x reader #fezco euphoria #fezco hbo #fezco imagine #euphoria #hbo #rue bennett #jules vaughn #rue euphoria #jules euphoria #kat euphoria #ashtray euphoria #euphoria hbo

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