#It's not the most beautiful tacos to be ever made but I made them entirely and also an extra one for myy mom.

[neontaxidermy]

Cooking fucking rules actually

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts Pt. 3

f1!driver!jason x reporter!reader

A/N: Another chapter, another story filled with jason todd 🤭 it makes me so happy to continue this au and to see my beautiful gremlins enjoying it as well 🥹 the comments for the tag list are so helpful (im new to that bear with me <3) but i love reading any comments about the story, any predictions your great minds have, or if you’re just looking forward to the next chapter :D so ENJOY and comment if your comfortable <3

See you in part 4 COMING SOON :))) also check out the masterlist for this series linked here <3

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, spice if u squint 👀

Word Count: 3.1k

Tag List: @jaybirdstreet @gallusstuff @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy @deimks @yasmin-oviedo @bigraga-sk

yourmom34: Why am I kinda invested?

imjasonsrightleg: Bye, update me when they start dating

potatoislyfe: He has chemistry with EVERYONE

notrealroyharper: THAT SHOULD BE ME

bigbootylicious87: Is it just me or are they entirely different from that press conference???

justicefortacoman: I can’t believe Jason moved on from taco man :(

“I can’t believe this.” You said to yourself, setting down your phone to no longer read the comments.

Leaning forward until your arms rested on your knees as you sat on the couch.

You had completed one full interview with Jason. His management wanted to film it. A new press strategy to help their racers gain more popularity outside the track.

You had agreed.

Broadcast journalism had been an area of interest because of the age of the internet and how fast news can spread through social media.

Now they wanted you and Jason to interact.

Jason’s social media team had pitched that you two sit down, you ask him questions and Jason would be the charismatic man he was.

It was simple, something you had done with many athletes, but it was Jason. A man you had multiple meals with, volunteered with, and almost…nevermind.

You thought you masked it well, set personal away from professionalism, but you were clearly wrong from the comments on the video.

You had watched it on your phone, curiosity scratching at you when you cooked lunch. Then when you couldn’t take it, you pressed the play button.

You were in denial. Ever since you came back from your volunteer work on Jason’s motorcycle, you had tried to play everything off with as much nonchalance as possible.

You didn’t mention how close your faces were that day. He dropped you off after the work in Crime Alley. You waved goodnight.

You didn’t see him until you got the call from your company. The interview filmed, quickly edited, released and you continued to deny.

But how were you supposed to deny what you saw on the tiny phone screen. It was out in the open, the public knew, you knew.

Did Jason know?

Did he see what you denied to yourself?

Or maybe he was just too good at looking good with anyone?

His fan base even made a running joke to pretend he has chemistry with anyone he interacts with in public.

You were just the next contestant.

That had to be it.

jasonjustonechance51: Was Jason kinda…shy?

redhoodsgyatt: I’VE NEVER SEEN THAT FOINE MAN LAUGH LIKE THAT IM IN LOVE?

tortillagrease861: I don’t know who this beautiful man is but I need him.

redbulljasonismywater69: I was trying to gatekeep him, but I guess I can share cause everyone deserves to see this man smile

poopoobatman417: He is so boyfriend

You threw your phone back onto the couch cushion, reading anymore comments was not helping.

After calming down and a movie break, you checked Jason’s social media and Red Bull’s racing account. There were the usual clips, Roy and Jason being the most popular duo.

Multiple edits and clips of them doing miscellaneous things. It wasn’t that bad, maybe you weren’t his focus right now.

But you were conflicted, it was good if the video of the two of you went well. It was better than being popular from negativity.

You could live with this.

A notification popped up on the top of your screen, perfect font displaying “Mr. Todd has sent a message.”

Speak of the devil.

Mr. Todd: want anything?

You clicked on an image of a menu.

He always knew how to get you. A late night meal wouldn’t hurt.

You: Miss me already?

You: Combo, medium, sprite

Mr. Todd: kay

Mr. Todd: my place or yours

Oh no.

You had just come to terms with thinking you meant nothing to this man.

You watched three dots float at the bottom of the messages, anticipation eating at you.

Mr. Todd: couldn’t get enough of you after the interview

You needed to check yourself into the hospital at this rate.

Fuck read receipts, now you needed to respond.

You: bro I don’t know where u live

Mr. Todd: bro I can just tell u

You: bro my place

You’re an idiot.

Mr. Todd: Brok

You: brok?

Mr. Todd: bro + ok

You: return my food

Mr. Todd: too late I already left and the kind lady gave me a free drink

You: I hope u drop ur free drink

Mr. Todd: no sprite for u then

You: wait

You: the sprite is innocent

Mr. Todd: this hurts me more than it hurts u

You saw a picture appear in the messages. He was holding the cup of sprite over a familiar ledge. The ledge of your apartment building floor.

You grabbed your keys, pulled on some quick sneakers, haphazardly put on, laces loose. You raced out of your apartment, quickly locking the door and running down the hall.

You ran to see Jason near the open ledge, night air surrounding him. Seeing his face turn to you, a smile spreading on his face.

You ran to save your sprite from his evil hands.

“Aw, so excited to see me that you didn’t put on your shoes properly.” Jason quipped, letting you take the hostage from his hands.

After securing your drink, your turned around. Eyeing Jason from your side.

He waited, a soft look on his face.

“Well, are you coming?” You walked forward, small smile perfectly hidden from Jason’s view.

——

You had sat down in front of your TV, putting your drink on the coffee table. You grabbed the remote trying to browse through several movies.

Jason had followed you in through the front door, taking off his shoes as soon was he walked in. He slowly walked toward you, taking a good look around your apartment.

You tried not to look at him, choosing to focus on your TV screen as he surveyed your one-bedroom apartment.

As he slowly stepped, you decided to chance one look at him.

Your eyes shifted toward his tall figure, he was oddly focused on your window, set near the small dining table.

It was a last-minute decision after you realized the format of your living room and kitchen. You liked watching the outside as you ate.

“Welcome to my home. Sorry for the mess, I didn’t get the chance to clean up after you took my sprite hostage.” You leaned your head on your hand, resting yourself on the coffee table as you watched Jason.

“Don’t worry about it, also you should lock your window.” Jason spoke.

You glanced toward the object in question, the latch was undone when you opened it earlier that day. You must’ve forgotten. It was a similar bad habit as never locking your balcony door.

Who would climb through that? Well, besides Batman, you don’t expect any visitors.

“Oh, sometimes I forget. But let’s eat first.” You shrugged.

Jason set the food down next to you, you felt the warmth radiating from the bag.

“I got it, your food should be the one on top.” Jason eyed the window, walking to it, snapping the lock into place.

You gasped.

“You ordered the other meal I wanted to try!” You smiled in excitement.

Jason turned back to sit down next to you. Lazily leaning against the foot of the couch.

He raised an eyebrow at the sparkle in your eyes, a silent question obvious on your face.

“Wanna try a piece?” Jason asked, giving in to the longing look.

“Aw, thanks Mr. Todd.” You dug into the two meals in front of you.

Jason moved to sit closer to you. Your excitement over the food distracting you, delaying your nervousness and your earlier debate with yourself.

As you took a bite, happy with the combination, you clicked on a movie. Letting it play as you and Jason ate.

“I thought you were kidding when you asked me if I liked the movie Cars.” Jason said in disbelief as he watched.

“It was for the interview…and I was genuinely curious.” You kept your eyes on the screen.

“Sweetheart, I don’t race in NASCAR. You know that.” Jason looked at you, astonished.

“I know, I think it’s hilarious.” You flatly said, focused on the movie in front of you. “You give off Lightning McQueen vibes.”

Jason nearly choked on his food.

“I feel like I should be offended.” Jason, stunned, looked at you.

You ignored him, letting him fret about your words as you finished your meal.

After Jason gave in and continued to watch the movie with you, you had cleaned up and the two of you moved onto the actual couch.

The soft cushions letting you sink in, sinking toward Jason who also dipped the couch. Letting a blanket droop over your legs.

He had taken his hoodie off, throwing it over a dining chair. Jason was clearly comfy for the night, in sweatpants and a t-shirt that hugged him nicely.

You were content letting your body relax. Watching animated cars as Jason, the fastest formula 1 driver, sat near you in your apartment.

With a full stomach and in pajamas.

Crazy how things worked out.

You smiled at your realization.

Your eyes felt heavy, the couch warm next to Jason.

Jason mindlessly watched the movie, pouting a little that he couldn’t believe that you thought of him like the red car.

Then he felt your weight on his shoulder.

He glanced to his side, seeing the top of your head. His heart raced. You had fallen asleep, a nice weight to his shoulder.

He saw your eyelashes, beautifully laid flat onto your cheeks as you gave into your sleepiness.

Call him a bad man, but he leaned his head on top of yours. Nuzzling into you.

You were probably going to wake up flustered, but he enjoyed making you nervous.

Seeing your ears going perfectly red.

Jason didn’t know what color he liked, he ended up with many things, falling into the rhythm of going with the flow. His racing career, his instincts to ask his manager to set up an interview with the talkative reporter, continuing to get lunch with you.

Now he was here, feeding you, sitting on your couch.

Getting more infatuated with the lil’ reporter he’s growing close to.

He learned something new today.

He realized his favorite color was the shade of your flustered ears.

——

You were stirring awake, your eyes slowly blinking into the faint light from the floor lamp. Majority of the darkness still around you.

You must have fallen asleep.

But how could you resist? It was warm around you.

As your consciousness entered your mind, you realized a weight around you. Fitted loosely around your waist, a soft fabric touching your face, slow even breaths slightly moving the hairs on your head.

Your eyes widened.

Jason was curled around you. At some point in between your nap, you and Jason had laid on the couch. Fully extending your bodies, falling into each other to fit perfectly into the soft cushions.

Oh no. You stiffened.

Jason started to stir awake, instinctually feeling the heightened panic from you next to him.

He slightly stretched his body, taking a deep inhale before releasing it, then slowly opening his eyes to look down at you. Your big eyes meeting his.

He sleepily smiled, pulling his arm around you closer to him. Somehow managing to get you even closer to him.

You felt his heartbeat through his shirt.

A lovely feeling.

“Jason.” You spoke into his t-shirt.

“Hm?” Jason grumbled, trying to wake up, but refusing.

“I think you accidentally fell asleep.” You moved your head, so your words weren’t mumbled into his body.

“I was going to leave.” Jason yawned. “You fell asleep and I laid you down on the couch, but you grabbed my shirt.” He smirked, eyes closed.

You moved your head, raising your chin toward Jason’s head above yours.

Your faces more parallel.

“What do you mean?” You quietly asked him, clearly surprised by the current situation, but still mindful of the sleepy man.

“You wouldn’t let go of me, so I tried sitting on the edge of the couch, but your grip never loosened. Then you kept tugging, so I finally laid down.” Jason continued to explain with his eyes closed, trying to keep his fatigue. “You have a deadly drip by the way.”

“I’m sorry.” You sighed.

“Why do you always do that?” He asked confused.

“Do what?”

“You always back away every time I get closer.” Jason’s eyebrows lowered, slight frustration in his tone. He was very expressive despite his eyes still closed.

“I don’t do that.”

“You were about to.” Jason pouted.

“I’m still laying next to you, I’m not backing away.” You retorted.

“You know that’s not what I meant. I can feel your negativity surrounding you.”

“Come on…I just,” You hesitated. “I just don’t want to bother you, to possibly cause a misunderstanding.”

Jason’s eyes opened, full seriousness in his gaze.

“What if I want you to bother me.” He directly told you, eyes never leaving yours.

Your faces nearly touching, the tips of your ears reddening. Curse your blood flow.

“I don’t understand.” You stammered, scared to peak into the direction this was going.

“I want to bother your life and I want you to bother mine. You make me feel alive because I want to talk to you, even when you don’t want to talk, I still want your time.” Jason directly told you.

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart racing as he continued to hold you, your faces close to one another, legs intertwined. His voice admitting what you’ve been scared to say.

It was out in the open. Clear as day.

Maybe it was meant to be this simple.

You were just too anxious and stubborn to call it what it was.

You kept Jason’s stare, his determination never faltering.

You pulled your hand from in between your bodies, releasing it from the depths of the blanket. You caressed his face, smoothing out the lines in between his eyebrows, softening his expression.

You smiled at your ability to control this man.

Maybe to the public he was rowdy, uncontrollable. But when you faced him, he was ready to come running when you held out a hand, waiting to rest his face in it.

He waited for your touch, your words, your quick glances.

You were the same. Ready to touch him, sing his name, memorize his smile.

You could barely contain yourself.

You leaned forward, kissing the man you longed for.

Your very first initiation towards him. No longer backing away.

You gently pressed into him. Both of your eyes closed, focusing on blurred touches of skin.

You want to touch him. You want more.

You rubbed where the back of his head met his neck, feeling the prick of his hair on your fingers. Your thumb rubbing behind his ear.

Jason matched you, letting feeling take over him.

He gripped your jaw, stretching your neck, adding another layer of desperation to your kiss.

Jason selfishly took your shared breaths.

When he wasn’t satisfied with that he moved to lean himself over you, but you put a hand to his chest.

Stopping him.

In his confusion, eyes glossed over, he only looked at you, his mind trying to catch up.

You ended up rolling him over, your body laid on top of his, Jason laid flat on his back. He reached up to cup his hands to your face.

You leaned down, deepening the kiss.

You had no reason to hold back. If it was this simple to be with Jason, you wanted to waste no more time on what ifs.

You were comfortable, letting your body fall onto Jason’s solid body. You wanted to feel more of him.

You readjusted yourself, straddling his waist near the waist band of his sweatpants. Jason panting, his breaths haggard.

You sat up fully, taking in the full image of him. It was beautiful.

“You’re gorgeous.” Jason breathed, in awe.

He gripped the sides of your waist, rubbing through your shirt.

Despite never removing any clothes, you were just as worked up.

You panted.

You internally thanked your unconscious self for keeping a death grip on this man.

You leaned down, nipping at Jason’s neck.

A sweet melody filled with Jason’s voice gasping. You felt every breath and vibration as you focused on his neck.

Letting yourself mark him just above his collarbone.

You looked down, hazily rating your work.

Jason reached up and rubbed your cheek. His soft touch contrasting your desperation.

The rising sun, letting in a soft glow through the large window near your dining table.

What a great way to start your morning.

You didn’t wake up this early, but to do this with Jason, you might have to start changing your routine.

Jason laid you back down to lean on top of him, He breathed into your neck as he held you close to him.

His large hands holding the back of your head, rubbing small circles.

“I told you I’m not backing away.” You smiled into Jason’s hair.

“I believe you now.” Jason chuckled, content in the comforting weight of you.

——

After another quick nap, you and Jason woke up, both of your hairs in a mess.

You were groggy, trying to help yourself to a cup of anything this morning, tea or coffee.

You watched Jason from your kitchen counter, he was learning where everything was. Memorizing the cabinets and drawers.

His broad back, a great view in your kitchen.

Your poor dining table window falling to second place.

You were in a daze watching his shoulders flex through the fabric of his shirt. It was like a switch flipped in you.

You shook your head, focusing back on the contents of your cup.

Jason made a cup of coffee, finally facing you. Leaning on the opposite counter.

Your eyes lowered to his stretched-out t-shirt around his neck.

You found what you were looking for, a purple blemish on his collarbone.

What a great morning.

Jason caught wind of your stare. Setting his cup down, caving you in-between his arms as he leaned on your counter.

It’s like you were made to be in his arms.

You giggled, trying to continue sipping on your cup. Letting Jason kiss around any opening of your face that wasn’t on the cup.

He was enjoying the moment, taking his time until you wanted to let him break.

When you had enough of the tickling sensation, you lifted your chin, letting Jason fully take your mouth.

The taste of coffee flooding you.

After your morning shenanigans in the kitchen, you spent the rest of the morning lounging, stealing kisses, possibly adding another blemish to match the other one.

[birb-chirpn]

Hi, I know I usually post art here but I have a lot of words today. (My favorite show just ended :,)) 

Beware: a lot of words

I’ve been a fan since about three years ago and even though I'm considerably new to this show it’s still something that has impacted me in such a meaningful way. I remember seeing edits of this show on TikTok (I’m so chronically online I know) when “Best Served Cold” came out. I binged the entire show in three days. Even though it made me cringe a lot at first, I couldn’t stop watching. I jumped on my bed when Soap started singing in “Everything’s a OJ” and letting out the most high-pitched shrill-sounding squeal I’ve ever let out in my life when Taco appeared in “Rain on Your Charade.” I think there’s something so unique about this show in the way it was produced by literal children (Who somehow got their family members to voice-act for them??!!?) who made a lot of immature jokes and turned into something so beautiful, writing and visual-wise. Honestly, it healed my inner child. I have never seen a show so limitlessly creative and fun that resonated with me and what I believe in so much. Additionally, with a fan-base that is just as much limitlessly creative and fun.

I adore the writing in the show, and I’m pointing that out because I want to talk about my personal interpretation of this Inanimate Insanity’s message. Brian Koch said in a livestream that it was about community and I don’t remember the rest of what he said lol, and I definitely agree with that. Expanding upon that idea, it’s also about how in every community there are different people, and even those you are close to may not be what you expect them to be. You can’t control the others around you and you should embrace that, and if you give them a chance you may even become unlikely friends. What truly makes a strong community is to not have everything be the same/simplified but to embrace and compliment each others differences/complexities and while that means not everyone will agree with each other, it doesn’t matter because you don’t have to be friends with everyone.

 I remember laying my eyes upon the first piece of fanart I saw, (It was very beautiful, trust me. I don’t think that person is in the OSC anymore.) and then I developed a consciousness and realized I could draw fanart if I wanted. I’ve only pretty recently developed the courage to share my work with people.

Thanks to all the people who worked on the show and anyone in the community. The community built around this show is so unique to me and I don’t think I’ll ever be in a fan-base that’s quite the same. I will now force all my friends to binge this show.

I’ve just realized, I’m using the word “I” a lot in this, but what can I (knee slap) say, it’s in the name. Half the stuff I said might come off as nonsense, but at least it’s out there now.

I really don’t know what I’ll post (if anything) once fandom dies out, probably bfdi and Minecraft smps.

[delilahdoesthings]

kiss me slowly one more time

Read here at Ao3

“She left you a note up in the studio.” 

Freddie had never run so fast up those familiar steps up to the studio. He opens the door and- oh my god. Carly stood there, looking the most beautiful he had ever seen her, next to Spencer’s sculpture. Which was covered in photos. The very same photos that were supposedly lost in that freak fire. 

“How did you-“ 

“I had Socko’s cousin Gizmo fix my hard drive.” She said meekly. “We spent so much time on bad memories the last couple days, I thought we owed it to ourselves to look at some good ones.”  Freddie couldn’t believe his eyes.  He stood for a second, gazing at the pictures and-

“Oh my god.” He said. “I could be my son.” Freddie’s heart was racing. What was going on here? This had to be more than just looking back on the old times. Maybe it was…No, he thought to himself. Do not go there. It was only bound to bring more heartache. 

“Don’t you remember?” She asked with a smile. Freddie tried so hard not to let that smile melt his heart, and failed miserably. She would always have that effect on him. “That was the day you named iCarly.” How could he possibly forget? That was the day that cemented his place in Carly’s life forever. 

“I- internet.” He said with a smirk. “Carly, you.” 

“Who else would have thought to put them together?” She asked. “You were the one who named the show in the first place. And, you were the one who told me I could do it on my own. You jumped in front of a taco truck to save my life.” And he would do it all over again. “And then you said we should wait to date until the whole hero thing wore off, except Freddie, you’re still my hero.” 

This could not be happening. This had to be a dream. There was no way Carly, the woman of his actual dreams, could be standing here saying words he had been longing to hear the last ten years. Because if he was honest, this right here was why his marriages, his other relationships, hadn’t worked out. He could pretend he was over her all he wanted but at the end of the day, she was Carly and he was Freddie, and there wouldn’t ever be a day in his life where he didn’t love her with all his heart. 

“You’re the person I can always count on.” She continued, blissfully unaware of just how fast Freddie’s heart was beating just now. “You’re the person who makes me laugh. And you’re the person who pushes me to do the things I need to do even when I really don’t want to.” 

“Like updating your phone.” Freddie interjects, hoping to add some levity to what could possibly be the best moment of his entire life, if this was what he thought it was. 

“Too soon, but yes.” Carly said, and Freddie smiled.  “And since I’ve never actually said it…and you deserve to hear it…And…okay good talk.” Carly said nervously, and turned to leave. Freddie reached out and grabbed Carly’s hand, and pulled her closer. 

“Hey.” He said, his voice cracking. “You can do this.” He swallowed. His palms were sweating, his heart racing, and Freddie felt like he was going to pass out. This was actually happening. 

“I like you, Freddie Benson.” Freddie’s heart stopped. “And I wanna be with you.” 

He pulled away from her, and the crestfallen expression on her face made him immediately want to grab her hand again and pull her close. Made him want to kiss that sad look right off of her face. But this was important. What he had to say could make or break them.

“Carly, I need you to know.” He began. “Being your friend is not a consolation prize. It is…the best thing that I get to be.” His voice cracked. “If we try this, and it doesn’t work… I can’t lose you.” 

“I promise, no matter what.” Carly said, stepping forward. “You never will.” 

Freddie’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Is this really happening?” He asked, because in all honesty, he still wasn’t one hundred percent sure this wasn’t a dream. Carly liked him, and she wanted to be with him. It felt like every single dream he’d ever had was, in this moment, coming true. 

“I hope so.” Carly said. “It took us long enough.”

Carly wrapped her arms around Freddie’s neck, and kissed him. Freddie had thought a lot about kissing Carly over the years, playing back memories of their brief relationship and the kiss right before she left for Italy. But those daydreams paled in comparison to kissing Carly as adults who were finally on the same page. Her lips were soft, and feeling her waist beneath his hands was a feeling he was sure he would never get used to.

“Ooh.” Carly said when they pulled apart. “Let’s do that again.” 

“In 5…4…” They kissed again, this time more passionate than the first. 

To answer his own question, Freddie thought, this was really happening.

And it was perfect. 

[swollenwithangst]

i have a story to share with everybody (if you'd like to listen).

to begin, my workplace is fairly lax about personal expression so long as its not overtly offensive/religious/political. so that means i can be my full, well... alternative(?) self as i please. this last week, i went to work with dark makeup, a black sweater, black pants, docs. whole shabang. emo. grunge. whatever. definitely not your northwest cowboy though. and for reference, i work at an family entertainment place (essentially you must purchase a ticket for admission, theres a gift shop, and so on). on that day i went to work all dressed up, i had two darling, budding alternative kids compliment me and each time i think about them, i well up with tears.

the first was maybe 14, max. with presumably her family who were all of the oh-so common diesel-truck cowboys that make up the majority of residents in my area. i was checking them all in and this angel turns and says to me as i'm finishing their transaction, "you're beautiful." to which a) i about threw up. she had such a look of adoration in her eyes, i was a bit overwhelmed. it reminded me of when i first stepped into a hot topic and realized that my friends and i weren't the only ones (tbf, i had limited internet access for a long while, i didnt know there was more of us), and b) i in turn complimented her back, telling her i thought she was gorgeous. she beamed so graciously at me, it made me so happy.

the second in that same day was from less of a "yeehaw" family but more of a, well, city? area? they were so painfully average that i forgot most of their details if i'm being honest. their daughter though, who i at first took for being 15-17, was wearing a three cheers shirt, so of course i had to compliment her. she lit up at that and thanked me, and they all went on their way to enjoy the day.

for about an hour, i helped guests and went about my business, before she approached me again (🥹❗️) and promptly asked, "is your heart in ohio?" ...now before anyone comes for me, my brain is a taco shell that got abandoned in the oil. it's beyond fried. i blanked on what to say. so i just kinda chuckled and said, "i know i've heard that before, and what it's from, but i can't remember the proper response for it." (YES YES, I KNOW. OHIO IS FOR LOVERS OKAY?)

she told me it was okay and proceeded to drop the biggest bombshell on my heart. this girl said, "i know this is random but i think you're really cool. i used to have the like, scene haircut but i got bullied for it." to which i first was like, 'aww, i've been there' (especially when i tried to cut my own fringe bc my mom wouldnt take me and i wound up with the world's worst cowlick). even more so because not once in my life has anyone ever thought i was cool. then she adds, "i'm 12 but i've been like this since i was 9."

this had my brain going in an entirely new direction. first off, i was 9 years older than her... okay. second, oh my god she's a baby. third, i have new inkling of hope for this generation... maybe the kids are alright. we talked for a little longer, talking about hair dye and where she's from and all. it was such a sweet, genuine interaction.

overall, these were both super wholesome experiences that i'm really cherishing. maybe to some this is an odd thing to have feel so special, but for me, i'm happy i could be even a vague blur in those girls' minds as they go on to form and shape their identities and forms of self-expression. even just giving them a small confidence boost from seeing someone else like themselves. it's something a younger me would have benefited from, and i can only hope i was adequate enough for them.

[neopuff]

title: there's always next time word count: ~1600 ship: six/holiday summary: They'd have plenty of time to get it right. Or: Six and Holiday get dinner. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48499474

They had dinner.

They’d had dinner before, plenty of times. But it was never “like a date”, or even outside Providence walls. Just meatloaf Fridays or the occasional late-night microwave meal together. Having dinner outside, in the real world, like real people? That was entirely new territory.

And dinner was nice. He’d taken her to a Mexican spot nearby - one of Rex’s favorites, Holiday recognized the name - and she had a delicious chile relleno.  Six ordered tacos for himself, which she found interesting for absolutely no reason. They ate outside and chatted about work and Rex and Beverly and the future and whatever else until the sun started to go down.

She commented on the beautiful sunset, and Six surprised her by responding in-kind while looking directly at her. Holiday never imagined him being so cheesy, but she couldn’t pretend she didn’t love it. 

It was sweet. And romantic . She felt an immediate urge to kiss him and held back only because she knew how much he valued his privacy. Holding her hand and asking her out in a room filled with other people was a big enough step for one day.

Going back to Providence - flying through the desert in his very sporty red car - Holiday couldn’t help but wonder if they’d be going out again. She wanted to - she definitely, absolutely, undeniably wanted to - but Six was a difficult man to read. After working alongside him for two years straight, she was better at understanding him than most people. But considering how new this experience was for them…she wasn’t sure where she stood. If he asked to do it again, she’d say yes in a heartbeat. If he tried to kiss her goodnight, she’d kiss back with gusto. And if he tried anything more…well, she’d be fine with that, too.

She was very happy, after all. She was grateful to him, and impressed with him, and she was on cloud nine every time she thought about the lengths he’d gone to help her. She’d always known that he cared, but he almost died to cure her sister. And she still hadn’t given him a proper thank you.

Holiday stared at him from the passenger seat, a permanent smile on her face. Even as he quirked an eyebrow, somehow having noticed her expression while also keeping his eyes on the road, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“Something on your mind?”

"You, mostly."

He squeezed his hand around the clutch, clearly unsure of how to react.

"Today started out very bad and turned into one of the best days of my life."

His face relaxed at that, and his hand noticeably unclenched. "I'm glad I could help."

She wanted to correct him and say he did more than help, he did everything, (he was everything), but she didn't want to scare him off. Though, after the events of the day, Holiday wondered if his feelings for her went deeper than she'd ever thought possible. Maybe she couldn't scare him off.

"Me, too," she responded, turning to look out at the desert again. She wanted to say thank you, but it'd never be enough. And he would brush it off, as Six often did. "When did you get this car?"

"About a year ago," he answered dryly. "Confiscated it from some desert pirates."

She gave him an incredulous stare, then laughed as she remembered the incident he was referring to. Rex had happily recounted stories of the crazy British pirate with the gun-arm, and Holiday was just happy that everyone made it back home safely. She'd never spoken to Six about the incident and certainly didn't imagine he'd gotten a car for his trouble.

"You never fail to surprise me, Six," she said happily, leaning her chin onto her hand and enjoying the wind whipping against her face. Part of her was annoyed that her hair was getting so out-of-whack, but it was a nice contrast to the desert heat.

He didn't respond to that, though Holiday had a feeling there were several thoughts running through his mind.

They enjoyed a few moments of quiet until Six opened his mouth again. "Is there anywhere else you'd like to go before we head back to HQ?"

Another surprise. She smiled and thought about it for a second, but ultimately decided against having too much fun. "As much as I've enjoyed this, I really should get back. I wasn't kidding about the rest of the tests I need to do on Beverly."

He hesitated, then nodded, and took the next right turn.

Holiday wondered if he expected her to say yes and had already picked something out. Maybe they could go next time. Next time would be less crazy. Beverly would be safe at home and not recently cured and out with Rex.

They chatted lightly on the last leg of their journey, and as Six pulled into the Providence hangar, she noticed several grunts and scientists sending an appreciative glance their way. For the car or for the two of them finally going out, Holiday wasn't sure, but she knew which one she appreciated more.

Six walked her back to her room after they confirmed that Beverly and Rex were at Noah's house and Holiday's heart started beating so fast that she was sure he could hear it. They were about to reach the moment - the moment where one of them would say or do something that would change things between them forever. It was nerve wracking.

Six's hand was twitching in his pocket. It'd been doing so for the entire walk from her lab to her room - he wanted to hold her hand again, he really really liked the feeling of her soft hand cradled in his, but he didn't feel like he should. Despite how much she was clearly enjoying herself, Six still felt like he was doing something wrong.

He didn't want to mess things up with her. He couldn't. Messing up the balance they'd struck and the relationship they'd built would be one of the most shameful things he could possibly do. So Six wanted to tread carefully and make sure he did everything right.

Suddenly they were at her door.

Holiday clasped her hands behind her back and turned to face him, back against her door. She had a smile on her face and a light blush on her cheeks and Six wanted to kiss her more than he'd ever wanted to before.

"This was nice."

"It was."

She broke eye contact, glancing down at the floor, and lightly bit her bottom lip. Six didn't have to ask to know what she was thinking, and he was going to say yes. Obviously the answer was yes.

"So, um…" She ran her fingers through her bangs, temporarily pushing them out of her face. "...would you like to-"

Cue: the alarm.

It seemed louder than usual. Much, much louder. Maybe it was the shattering awkwardness - the fact that both of them were perfectly aware of what she was going to ask, and perfectly aware of what his answer would be, and perfectly aware that they wouldn't have time to discuss it further.

He glared at the walls and the ceiling, trying to will the sound to correct itself into a false alarm. It wasn't going to happen.

Six glanced down at Holiday to see a tremendously disappointed look on her face - she was blushing, noticeably, and had her arms wrapped around her in a way that he knew comforted her in times of distress. He ignored the part of his brain that wanted to wrap his own arms around her - and then hold her close, and kiss her, and join her in her room and ignore the alarm because Rex could probably take care of it himself.

But that was how it was at Providence. That was how it was to be them . They didn't have free time. They didn't even have enough time for all the work they did.

Still, he couldn't leave her without saying something. Six wanted to make sure she understood that he'd enjoyed himself, because he knew he wasn't expressive and often that meant she wasn't sure how he felt about her.

As he stared at her face, Six made a decision. He glanced up and down the hallway and, upon seeing no one, leaned down to place a quick kiss against her cheek - just an inch from the corner of her lips. He pulled away just as quickly and was acutely aware of the deepening blush on Holiday's face.

"I had a good time. With you," he said quietly, once again feeling nervous that he was messing things up. "I'd like to do this again."

Holiday stared at him, hand resting on her cheek where he'd kissed her. She looked stunned. "Y-yeah. I'd like that, too."

Six responded with a curt nod and reached for his comm to get more information about the EVO situation. After a few moments of listening, he flexed the muscles in his hands and started down the hall. He felt embarrassed about what he'd just done, but he didn't regret it for a moment. Holiday seemed happy and he enjoyed the contact with her.

"You should get some sleep," Six called out to her. "Salazar can handle this."

She gave him a small wave and tilted her head, wondering how she felt about that. Her job had gotten a lot easier since Caesar's arrival, but when it came to Rex and his nanites, she still felt a bit protective.

Holiday watched Six's retreating figure and decided she didn't need to sleep just yet. She wanted to be there for her boys, after all.

And maybe, if things were wrapped up quickly enough, she and Six could continue their conversation.

[wr1t3w1tm3]

First Line Analysis

I got this idea from the prompt below:

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns! (from most recent to least recent, starting from the top)

But I decided to try and do all of my past works and see what I could find. I'll color code by fandom and link them all if any pique your interest, but this is mostly just for fun.

Top Gun/Top Gun Maverick

SEAWOLF (OC (Rooster's kid), Iceman lives, werewolves).

A couple of nights later, Rooster learns why they got certified.

2. Taco Shop (Hangman & Everyone).

Along the way he runs towards into Hangman, returning from the mess with a snarl on his face.

3. For the Love of a Daughter (dark!TopGun, Murder fic).

It’s been a hell of a year for Bradley Bradshaw.

4. Seven Rings (And Other Things) (Carol/Goose & Rooster)

They were Carol’s mothers.

5. Like Washin' on the Line (Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Origin).

Texas has some wolves.

6. A Snowballs Chance in Space (TGM x Star Wars The Clone Wars).

The looming gray airbase is a welcome reprieve from the terrain they’ve trekked for hours.

7. Crashin' and Burnin' (In) (Bob & Phoenix)

Bob stumbles into his briefing the next morning with hair disheveled, glass dirty, and his flight suit crumpled.

8. Welcome Home (Harvard & Sarah Kazansky)

Sarah Kazansky is the closest thing he’s had to a mom in years, and Brigham is entirely unsure how to handle it. 

9. What to Say to You? (Rooster & Daughter OC).

Put in for Theresa’s graduation - Check. 

10. Ivy Leaguers (Harvard & Yale, Origin)

Ensign Brigham Lennox is an escapee from one of the most notorious cults in the contiguous United States. 

11. The Office (OC & Hondo Coleman)

Hondo’s office is in some god forsaken corner of the NAS Coronado compound.

12. 5 Times Admiral Tom "Iceman" Kazansky was Worried More than He let on + 1 Time He Wasn't (Iceman lives, 5 + 1).

He had prayed for years that after Bosnia, that would be it.

13. You Had Me at Heads Carolina (Penny/Maverick)

Legally, last call in California is 2 am, but Penny’s has always been 1:30, though she never kicks anyone out until 2. 

14. It Smells Like Victory (Jake Hangman Seresin & OC)

He’s really starting to wonder if Theresa picked out the doormat, because If I like you, Check the Garage is something Maverick or Rooster might think, but he’s pretty sure they’re not going to actively put it on a doormat. 

15. ...What I Call this One? (Jake Hangman Seresin & Cyclone)

Fuck Mondays, Cyclone groans, rubbing his head.

16. Don't You Wish You Knew... (Hangman & Omaha)

It’s odd not getting the customary gruff good morning from Admiral Simpson as he passes his office on his way to the briefing room.

17. My Pilot, My Responsibility (Halo & Omaha)

The real saying is “My wizzo, my responsibility.” 

18. Take me Home, Country Roads (Slider & Mav & Rooster)

It’s weird, seeing an animal dead that you know was alive merely an hour ago. 

19. Drunk Dials (On Friday Nights) (Maverick & Phoenix)

3 am Wyoming time.

20. Baby Goose (Carol & Goose & Rooster & OC)

It’s a term of endearment, welded to Rooster by association since he was just a baby.

21. Shooting from the Hip (Maverick & Rooster & OC)

Rooster hasn’t touched a gun since basic.

22. I Heard from the Heavens (Major Character Death, Rooster)

“Beautiful day for a flight, huh Mav?” Roosters muses.

23. Mistakes were made, but You're not one of Them (Rooster & OC)

Rooster’s phone buzzes something fierce on that quiet afternoon.

Hocus Pocus

24. Abracadabra An Unofficial Hocus Pocus Sequel (Dennison Children OC's, Sanderson Sisters, written pre-HP2, fusion fic)

It was a late summer night in Salem; silent, cool, and very, very dark.

25. Hocus Pocus: Magic's Return (Sanderson Sisters, written pre-HP2)

"Poor Thackery Binx. Neither his father, his mother, nor anyone else... ever knew what became of him... those 300 years ago."

Beauty and the Beast

26. Beauty and a Beast (2017, AU, Gaston/Belle, Pere Robert)

“What do you mean you won’t marry us?” Gaston bellowed. 

27. Can Anybody be Happy if They aren't Free? (2017, Belle/Beast)

“Is it true that he held you captive?” 

Ninjago (All Media)

28. Ninjago Season 16: Succession (AU, departed!Cole, Script Fic)

[We open above a cloud line about mid-day and facing forward.]

29. The Master of Earth (AU, departed!Cole, RIP Kirby Morrow)

There is a place in the center of Ninjago City, and there, a statue stands.

30. The Nya Interlude (AU, missing!Nya, grief, remembrance)

The day broke sunny and cheerful, though not one shared the sentiment. 

31. "It Seems All of our Stories Start this Way" (AU, departed!Cole)

There is a place in the center of Ninjago City, and there, a statue stands.

Hamilton

32. the gods three (AU, Hamilton x Star Wars elements)

Light.

33. Hamilfam Death Days (Post Canon, Afterlife)

John Laurence is the first of the Hamilfam to go. 

Miscellaneous

34. Power Rangers Star Force (Star Wars x Power Rangers)

It’s not easy to hide the disappearance of a junior senator.

35. Christos (Supernatural (2005), AU, priest!Sam, priest!Dean)

“Hurry up Sam, I don't know how much longer I can hold him."

36. Susan Pevensie's Later Years (Narnia, Post-Last Battle, OC)

Melody Glasgow is 8 when her mother is diagnosed with cancer.

37. The Newbie: An Avengers Story (Avengers Assemble (tv show), MCU elements, X-Men elements, OC)

My name is Shiloh, Shiloh Miller.

38. "Chin Up King" (Technoblade Tribute, Technoblade never dies)

As the King watches the sun set over his enemies' camp, he realizes that this will test his very being. 

Notes:

A Snowballs Chance in Space and the gods three are both Star Wars crossovers; however, the Star Wars elements only exist as inspiration or background components, so I choose to include them with their primary fandom.

The Master of Earth and "It Seems All of our Stories Start this Way" begin with the same line as one is a rewrite of the other (I can't remember which is which at this point as they are some of my earliest fics).

Although both Beauty and the Beast fics are listed as being for the 2017 live action remake, with the exception of Pere Robert they can be set after the events of the original animated movie.

Abracadabra is a reworking of Magic's Return, but both have their own canons, different sets of characters, etc. Only Magic's Return is truely written pre-HP2, because I was publishing parts of Abra before, during, and after the release of HP2.

Analysis:

I consistently include characters in my first lines.

When I don't, I'm setting up the location or time period.

I tend to use short, sweet first lines.

When I don't use short first lines, I use hella long ones bro.

Of the works I've published on Archive, only a couple of them are from other sights (The Newbie and maybe Magic's Return were up on quotev, and both were either posted and completed or begun while I was in middle school.)

The most works I've written for a fandom is Top Gun Maverick (23). Of those, 22 are one shots, and one is a long fic (177K words).

My longest fic is SEAWOLF (177K words) and my shortest is Beauty and a Beast (259 words, a literal ficlet).

The shortest first line belongs to the gods three (one word) and the longest belongs too It Smells like Victory (41 words).

7 titles (all for Top Gun) are references to songs/they're lyrics.

9 titles are references to the media they are inspired by (a couple flat references, but mostly direct and indirect quotes).

24 first lines include direct references to other characters.

I personally can tell how my writing has evolved based on the first lines, and I'm pretty sure you can tell which of these is my first line based on the first line alone.

It's been like two months since I started working on this post, but now it's done. I will occasionally reblog with updates to the list as I post new writing.

[cockymclaughlin]

i'm just going to word-vomit about my meet and greet bc i'm fucking.......reeling a little bit, still

so, first things first, nicole is legitimately the most beautiful person i've ever seen and she is so sweet and i would kill for her this also goes for vee

i spent the entire day meeting crew members? and i wasn't nervous about any of it. but for some fucking reason when it came time for this meet and greet my brain decided now was a good time to panic so i was just like. i'm going to faint. so we like got around to the corner and i put eyes on them and i said out loud "i am going to faint" and nicole made eye contact with me as i was saying it and just goes "no! you can't faint, you have to take a picture!"

i was mortified, instantly.

but anyway i was very brave and when it was my turn, the first thing i said was "i haven't been nervous all day"

to which josh says "good!"

and i just "but i am nervous now"

and then josh was like "okay but you can't be nervous in the fieri fit"

and guys. they just. i was like "okay look i know i don't have forever but i just want to tell yall that yall were one of the main reasons i'm in culinary school" and then i was like "thank yall for showing that like, food can be artsy and weird and creative and still be fucking impressive and that you can have a personality and do shit in this fucking industry and you don't have to be all straight-laced in your chef whites to fucking make it"

and all of them just looked so goddamn touched by it, genuinely, which made me feel good about saying it. josh even like, mid-monologue, reached out and held my fucking hand. nicole did not take her hand off of my shoulder. at some point she asked my name, and i'm almost positive i told her what it was.

nicole gave me words of wisdom for school, said to just have fun with it, and that professors don't know everything. she said specifically, "hold on to those two things when things get hard"

we talked about like, how michelin star restaurants don't mean shit and josh was like "i ate at a three michelin star restaurant and then immediately went to a taco truck and one of them was a much better meal"

nicole told me i was "the cutest person" and i died

vee complimented my hair as if she didn't look like an actual goddess. and as i was leaving, i was like "you all look incredible" to which josh said "i got baby food on my shoes...."

trevor didn't talk much, which is ironic.

josh is......a fucking force. the dude is very tall and very pretty and honestly they're all just. ethereal. it was surreal and i had such an incredible time. it was fucking wild.

edited to add: they all crowded in real close with me to take the picture with me, and even in the moment i was like aware of how cozy it was and i just thought it was real neat that they were all just sandwhiching me in.

[itsthenovelteafactor]

The Hargreeves + Love Languages

Not technically for Valentine’s Day, but the timing lines up pretty well! Here are my theories for the Hargreeves and their primary love languages. 💕

Luther: Words of Affirmation

“Sometimes these things just take time.”

Luther both expresses and seems happiest receiving affection through words of affirmation, which makes a lot of sense for him, given how Reginald used the faintest scraps of praise to earn his undying loyalty for years (the only positive about this man being back is that now the kiddos get a chance to kill him themselves). We see it in how he interacts with his siblings. When Allison confesses how lost and alone she feels after losing Claire, he gently encourages her. When he and Vanya begin to mend their relationship he instantly becomes her #1 hype man (we love to see it). Even Elliot! We also see how even the smallest encouragements from other people clearly mean so much to him, whether it’s his siblings, or, you know, Jack Ruby. 

Diego: Acts of Service

“I know what it’s like to love dangerous people.”

Ah, Diego “I have to save everyone, wtf is self care?” Hargreeves. Not only are acts of service the primary way he shows affection, they are also pretty much the only way he knows how to. Like, Diego will tie Klaus to a chair to help him get sober, and attack a bunch of angry vets for him, but when he tries to talk he ends up wistfully recalling the time Klaus got his mouth wired shut. He gets incredibly attached to people who help him, even if they have ulterior motives for doing so (read: Lila and to some extent Herb), and goes to ridiculous lengths to help them in return (literally throwing himself in front of a huge onslaught of bullets to protect Five). Which makes sense, considering his relationship with Grace really developed because she was willing to help him work on his speech when no one else would. 

Allison: Receiving Gifts

“I’m the luckiest man in all of Dallas.”

“Is that right?” 

Okay, first of all, Allison Hargreeves is 100% the kind of person to pick up little gifts for Claire literally every time she’s out of town. We see the two people in the series that know her best, Luther (who’s attachment I’m deciding to interpret as 100% familial... don’t ruin this for me) and Raymond, both give her gifts to show her how loved she is. Ray picks up a book for her, and she just about melts on the spot. She kept the necklace Luther gave her for years. We also see her giving gifts as a form of affection, from using her powers to get Ray a nice suit, to the “feast” she sneaks in for her and Luther as children. It makes a ton of sense for her as a character, too. I think on some level, Allison fears that none of her relationships are as real as she wants them to be, so having someone say “I was somewhere else and thought of you, here is something that it never occurred to you to ask for” means so much to her in proving that she is loved in return as fiercely as she loves. 

Klaus: Quality Time

“Logging in some quality bro time before the end of the world.”

We see multiple instances where Klaus is seeking out time with his family as a way of expressing affection. He leaps at any opportunity to accompany Five on a mission, and the aforementioned incident with Diego. He takes Allison and Vanya for tacos to spend time with them. He just wants to spend time with his family, y’all. It’s honestly kind of adorable. It’s how people show affection to him, too. Diego drives him places, and we see when Klaus is at a low point, he takes special care to come back in and check on him. It also makes sense for reasons of sad, because we know that Klaus is never really alone, and the constant presence of ghosts is dulled by spending time in other people’s company. Because of this, he associates spending time with the people he’s close to as being both comfortable and safe. 

Five: Acts of Service

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for my family.”

This little gremlin really went out and said “I’m going to save the whole entire world for my family,” like, honey. Doing stuff for people is the primary way he shows affection. He’s constantly fighting to save his family, and carries Dolores around constantly. He shows up when Vanya asks for help. We also see it in the way he responds to other people. Like, Hazel does one nice thing for him and he’s like “oh, we’re friends now.” Vanya makes him sandwiches to show him that he’s being taken care of. Reginald actually gives him legitimate advice for once. Donut shop guy (R.I.P) buys him his coffee. That small smile he gets in the elevator when they all show up to talk to Reginald together and he sees that they actually do care. Five has been doing everything by himself for so long, and having someone else step in, even if he won’t ever admit it, means the world. 

Ben: Physical Touch

“Can you hug me as I go?”

Ben was a little harder because we don’t really see him interact with that many people other than Klaus, but he really made it his mission to hug all of them, so it kind of works. The moment with Vanya, the hug with Diego, even how he just wants to occupy the same space was Jill as soon as he can, Ben just really wants physical contact with the people he cares about. The first thing he does when he realizes he can touch things is play patty cake with Klaus. Which makes the fact that he spent 20+ years incorporeal and unable to touch anyone... kind of devastating actually. It also makes sense because we know that Ben hates the destructive capabilities of the Horror, and the fact that someone is okay with being physically close to him means that they trust him and aren’t afraid.

Vanya: Words of Affirmation

“You’re plenty elegant.”

All things considered, it makes a lot of sense that words of affirmation would be the way Vanya feels most loved, most seen. Reginald Hargreeves verbally dismissed her whenever he had the opportunity, and we see her clinging to anyone who says nice things about her. Leonard talks her up constantly, and she falls for him instantly. In a much nicer (and more genuine) way, Sissy tells her frequently that she’s valuable, that she’s wanted. Vanya talks herself down a lot, and Sissy will not hear it, lol. We also see it in the way she reached out to other people! She’s so encouraging and supportive of Sissy. In a beauty parlor, she just gushes to both Klaus and Allison, “this family’s amazing” even though they’ve kind of just exposed themselves as the trainwrecks they are. It’s cute af. 

[celestialevie]

Flower Boy // George Weasley x GN! Reader

Summary: AU where y/n is working at the tattoo shop, while their best friend is an owner of a flower shop. What happenes when expecting to see your best friend for lunch, you end up meeting a tall ginger man. Warnings: fluff, mention of food, tattoos, flowers, George being absolute charmer Word count: 1.7k a/n: enjoy this aboslute fluff of a fic!! and again, english is not my first language so if there are any mistakes please do not hestitate to let me know about it!! ' Evangeline ' is an oc of mine, so she might appear in some of my fics as a side charachter. Also credit to @bwbatta for the dividers!!

Being a tattoo artist was one of the things you were proudest of. It wasn't easy to become one after neglecting art for so many years during High School. But after your best friend opened her own flower shop, she helped you get your inspiration for art being constantly surrounded by flowers and stories of why people were getting flowers. You were happy with everything but not knowing that wasn't the end of your happiness. It all started when you were on your lunch break and decided to swing by your best friend's flower shop to visit her. Expecting to see a small blonde girl behind the counter, you were shocked to see a tall ginger man standing there instead. '' Hello, how can I help you today? '' When ginger looked up, he felt as if someone kicked all of the air from his lungs because before him stood a beautiful person with y/h/c hair and y/e/c eyes. Smiling at them as they approached the counter, they were even more beautiful up close. '' Hi, um I'm looking for Evangeline? I didn't know she hired someone new. '' Ginger laughed, nodding his head. '' Ah yes, I'm only here temporarily. Unfortunately, you just missed her, she left to go on a lunch break with my uglier twin. '' You only laughed at that. '' Too bad, but can you please let her know that y/n looked for her? '' He nodded. '' I'll let her know. I'm George by the way. If you ever wanna ask her for me. '' George wiggled his eyebrows, making you shook your head. '' It was nice meeting you, but I have to go now. Please don't break any of her flowers she's not afraid to commit murder if you break something in her shop. '' his eyes widen, making you laugh as you were leaving but his voice stopped you. '' Hey! You come here often? '' he asks '' Considering I use to work here and my best friend owns it, yes. '' and with that, you left the shop, heading back to your workplace.

As the clock turned changed time to 8 pm, you relaxed finally going home after a stressful day. Just as you were open the door, Evangeline barged in. '' Hello, heard you've been looking for me. '' She grinned at her best friend, attacking them with a hug. '' Hello to you too,'' you said returning the hug '' I see the tall ginger you failed to mention to me kept his word. '' smirk appearing in the corner of your mouth as you recall your encounter with him from earlier today. '' It seemed to me you left a trance on Georgie boy. '' Evangeline wiggled her eyebrows, making you laugh '' You can't do that to me, I wanted to have lunch with my best friend only to find she ditched me for and I quote the ginger man '' uglier twin '', leaving me to get almost a heart attack. For a second I thought I walked into a wrong shop. '' Both of you walked out of the shop, heading towards your apartment. '' Speaking of that date, you also failed to mention you were dating someone, and here I thought we tell each other everything, tsk tsk. I'm disappointed. '' you nudged her, blush creeping on her cheeks. '' Oh my god are you blushing? He's making you blush just by thinking of him? You need to tell me about him. '' and so she did. She told you how his name is Fred and along with his twin, he has 6 siblings, making both of them the middle children. It was very interesting to know about a man who took an interest in my best friend. Deciding she'll spend the night at yours, you both got cosy into pyjamas and watched movies until you both crashed. The next morning you went together to work, letting you know she'll come to your work for the lunch break. So when your lunch break came, you didn't expect her to walk in with the same ginger man from yesterday. '' y/n/n, I brought us a bodyguard to keep us safe during our lunch break. '' grin played on her lips, making you shake your head. '' Yeah because we're so in danger that someone is gonna try and kill us while eating Taco Bell. '' George snorted, making you look at him. He looked even cuter than yesterday if that's even possible. Maybe there was something in gingers that you'd yet to discover that makes them so attractive. '' So flower boy, what do you do when you're not being a bodyguard or taking care of Evie's flower shop. '' he was grinning at the nickname. '' I own a joke shop with my brother, but we're currently redecorating inside so we had to close it for a week or two. '' An attractive businessman, that's a first one you snorted to yourself. Spending an hour with two of them, turned into a mostly back and forth conversation between George and you. Soon Evie had to leave, her lunch break coming to an end. To your surprise, George asked you if he could stay for a bit longer, which you said yes to since you had no client for another hour. He asked you about your art style, which, according to George made your eyes sparkle up with happiness, making him chuckle when you started to ramble not even noticing. '' You're rambling. '' he chuckled making you blush a little. '' Sorry, sometimes I can get carried away without even noticing. '' George smiled, taking your hand in his, making you look at him. '' Don't apologise, it's adorable. '' blushing even harder, you looked at the clock making you realise that in 15 minutes your client should be coming. '' Oh shit I didn't even realise how much time has passed already, I have to prepare for the next client. But hey if you ever want a tattoo you know where to come. '' You said and with that, you disappeared somewhere behind in the storage, kind of hiding from flower boy, because he's starting to make you feel things you haven't felt before.

Everything was happening so fast, in the next few days he kept coming either alone or in a company of Evangeline. She knew what she was doing and she was enjoying it. You even got to meet Fred, him wanting to meet the fascinating best friend of his girlfriend and the person who his brother can't seem to stop talking about. So when George asked you out, you said yes having nothing to lose. Deciding on a picnic, both of you packed some food, and he picked you up after work, leading you to a park. He prepared a blanket and put down the baskets where food and drinks were, sitting down and relaxing. '' How was your day? '' you began the conversation. '' It was good, mostly spent the entire day thinking of what to bring for our date tonight. '' a smile appeared on his face. '' How was yours? Any interesting tattoos you did? '' so you told him about this older guy who had half of his back tattooed with some weird game character, which made him laugh. Looking up at the sky, it looked amazing. '' Isn't the view beautiful? '' a grin played on your lips as you looked at the stars. George was only looking at you, and how beautiful you looked under the stars. If he wasn't already falling, he definitely would've now. '' Yeah, it couldn't be more beautiful. '' you looked at him and he was looking at you. '' Stop looking at me like that! '' He grinned at you, placing a hand on your cheek. '' Like what? '' he said softly while looking you in the eyes. '' L-like I've placed all the stars in the sky as if I'm the most unique thing on this planet. '' you were avoiding his eyes, knowing you wouldn't be able to breathe if you do. George had other plans, because he softly placed finger under your chin, making you look up at him. His eyes were filled with so much adoration, making you get lost in them. '' I've been looking at you like that ever since we first met, darling. I've grown quite fond of you from the first time our eyes met. '' a smile was spread on both of your lips '' God how much I love seeing you smile. I like you so much, love. '' placing your hands on both of his cheeks '' Can I tell you something? '' you said quietly almost a whisper. '' You can tell me anything. '' ''I like you too flower boy. '' even bigger smile was on his lips. '' Could you say it again? '' you furrowed your eyebrows. '' Were you not listening? '' he shook his head. ' No, I was, I just like the sound of your voice. '' you shook your head at his goofiness. '' Can you kiss me? '' a grin appeared on his lips '' Thought you'd never ask. '' and with that, he placed his soft lips on top of yours, lips mending with each other. It was like fireworks exploded inside you, from how much happiness you felt in this moment. Everything was perfect.

The next day you decided to visit Evangeline in the shop, expecting to see I guy you've grown s much fond of. And there he was stood with Fred and Evangeline, his beautiful smile playing on his lips. '' Hello, hope I'm not interrupting a big secret meeting. '' you joked as you approached them. George pulled you in his embrace, placing a small kiss on your temple as he sneaked an arm around your shoulder. '' Of course not love. '' you smiled at him, starting a conversation with him, not noticing how Fred and Evangeline were looking at the two of you. '' I haven't seen her smile like that in ages. '' Evie said, '' Hey flower boy, '' Fred began only to be shot by a dirty look by you. '' Hey, only I can call him that,'' you said and with that making everyone laugh including yourself. This is the happiest you've been in forever, and you could only hope it could stay like this forever.

[bts-teaspoonff]

Reward

Genre: Smut with slight plot, Polyamory

Pairing: Yoongi x reader, Hoseok x reader, Yoongi x Hoseok

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: A well-deserved break after weeks of stress from work. Your boyfriend decided to give you a reward. You didn't know that he was not the only one eager to give you a reward.

Warnings: NSFW, double penetration, double creampie, unprotected s*x (still do safe s*x, kids!), slight degradation, cum eating, oral (F receiving, M receiving), implied!sub Yoongi, implied!dom reader, role!switch Yoongi, role!switch reader, Dom!Hoseok, anal s*x, vaginal s*x, love biting, cheek slapping (but not intense), choking (y/n’s not abused, y'all), A VERY IMPATIENT Y/N

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: This is actually inspired by their *chuckles* iconic japanese song, Otsukare. The closest translation in English would be “Thanks for your hard work”. Seriously, you guys need to watch their SOPE and OT7 performance of the song! You will laugh your ass off..

It’s been almost a month since you and your team have been burning blood, sweat and tears into this one specific medical case. Working as a medical intern with plentiful senior doctors piling every work on interns is brutal, however you just wade through everything since you did land an internship spot in the most prestigious hospital in the country. You do live in a decent apartment with a nice view you might say, but recently, you’ve been taking refuge in the intern’s lounge for almost a month already. All you want is to caress the soft material of your favorite linen and spend a week on your bed without getting out of it.

Today’s different. You and your fellow interns have cracked the case and have just finished presenting it to a panel of senior doctors. It’s also nice now that the patient in the said case can now breathe a lot easier since there is a higher chance of survival with our proposed medical management. You truly can’t wait to get home.

You also haven’t seen Yoongi, your boyfriend, for almost three weeks. Video calls and missed opportunities was your love story with him since you’ve handled the killer case.

He was very understanding of your situation, especially when you did try to visit him in his apartment one day. You were so drained but you still kept your promise to him for a ‘Movie and Taco Tuesday Night’. Just fifteen minutes into the movie, you were dead asleep on his couch. Sometimes, you even fell asleep while on a video call with him. You felt ashamed that you apologized to him non-stop for a week. He told you that he could compromise so he started visiting you in the hospital. Of course, that was also futile. Both of you would plan to eat lunch together but as soon as you were in each other’s company, beeps from your pager will end your short bout of joy.

You bombarded Yoongi with texts and voice messages that you’re finally free from the shackles of the said case. This weekend will the first whole break you’ve been rewarded with since last month. You receive a text from him asking if there’s any way you could spend the whole weekend with him in his apartment. You knew what he meant and you can’t deny that there’s a part of you expecting something to happen as well. Come on, you haven’t touched or caressed your boyfriend for almost a month. You’re too deprived and sexually frustrated. This is no time to be shy about it, not that both of you are shy with each other.

“But how about Hoseok? Won’t he be there?” Oh Hoseok. What a beautiful human. You’ve been together with Yoongi for almost a year already, and they’ve been roommates for the same amount of time. The three of you just clicked together ever since the start.

You met Yoongi through a common friend. Didn’t start officially dating one another until two months later. You would always tease him about it because he took so long to ask for a date just because he felt intimidated by you. You were more of a strong-independent and outgoing type of woman and he was quiet and reserved. It took a month before both of you started bringing each other to your respective apartments. There you met Hoseok. It didn’t take much and it felt natural to be friends with him. Maybe because it felt like the both of you were the same side of a coin.

You used to think that Yoongi and Hoseok were two poles opposite from each other, but you soon realize that’s the best thing about the two of them. That’s why you and Yoongi felt perfect for each other as well.

Although you love your boyfriend dearly, you can’t deny that a small bit of you has been attracted to his roommate. Apart from having a lot of similarities with each other, you do feel that sometimes you share the same mind waves as him. One day when Yoongi was so sick, the two of you left work for the day to stay and care for him. You were amazed that Hoseok knew what he was doing and was really frantic if what he was doing was enough. Seeing somebody else care and love your boyfriend this much warms your heart.

You do try to avoid letting your feelings for him grow any further since Yoongi is your soulmate. You could give the world to Yoongi, that’s how much you love him, and it swells your heart to know that he feels the same for you. You won’t do anything to hurt your precious boyfriend. Ruining their friendship is also the last thing on your mind. You just remind yourself to keep your small fire for Hoseok under control or put out, if possible.

“He said don’t worry about it. He’ll find a way to stay out of our way for the weekend.” Pleased with Yoongi’s reply, you can’t stop thinking of various ways to spend your night with your boyfriend.

With that, you arrive at his apartment that night. Yoongi opens the door, greeting you. You dropped the bags in your hands to the floor and jumped to embrace him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around your body. He noticed the fresh smell of your strawberry shampoo, a scent he truly missed.

You start to slowly kiss his neck and soon, you felt his hands grip your waist tighter. “Ummm, kitten?” He does enjoy you pouncing on him as soon as you arrived at his apartment but someone from across the room is eyeing the two of you. Your hands start to comb through his hair when he slightly pushed you, stopping you from teasing Yoongi. “Hoseok is still here.” He turns his head to the direction of his roommate and you followed.

Hoseok sat quietly on the other side of the kitchen counter, sipping his water while staring at the two of you. You straighten out yourself, ashamed at being caught in the act by Hoseok. “Don’t mind me. It’s not like it’s my first time catching the two of you in the act.” He quietly laughs as he took another gulp, completely teasing you.

“Don’t tease her, Hoseok.” Yoongi pats your head as he sees you turn shy at Hoseok’s teasing.

“It’s cute that you let her pounce on you every time she thinks you two are finally alone. So hungry for Yoongi?” Hoseok giggles as you shot a hawkish gaze at him. He gets up and took his bag from the chair beside him as he walks towards the two of you, or rather the door. You glance at the darkness outside the window and at your watch.

“Isn’t it too late for a drive?” You ask Hoseok as he pat your boyfriend goodbye before turning to you.

“I’m fine. Why? You worried about me?” He leans down, eyes meeting yours. He pats your head teasingly and you jokily swat it off. “Besides, aren’t you glad you finally have some alone time? This is my reward to you, little girl.”

“Little girl? I may be smaller but I’m older than the two of you!” Yoongi and Hoseok, focused entirely on your face, watched as you apparently try to make your point.

“Yes, we know kitten, by one year… as you constantly try to remind us.” Yoongi hugs you from behind. “Get on with it. Drive safe!” He hits Hoseok by the arm and they did their handshake. Hoseok also lightly hits your arm before opening the door and walking out, leaving you and your boyfriend finally alone in the apartment.

You both swiftly turn to each other at the same time after the realization that you’re finally alone with each other, amusing the both of you. You let out a smile full of sweetness with eyes almost glistening with longingness for Yoongi.

“I missed you, Yoongi.”

“You don’t how much I missed you too, my kitten.”

That nickname. When was the last time you heard the sound of his voice call you like that? You love it. He apparently can call you that in 100 ways possible. Most of the time, you do love it when he’s screaming it while you overdose him with pleasure.

“Should we watch a movie or something?” You suggest as you turn back to get your bags, carefully grabbing the bag filled with food that you plan to cook for him until tomorrow.

“Pass. I think we should start putting that toy to good use.” Yoongi grumbled in a very low tone as he slowly walked to you, bent forward in front of him. It’s been too long since he had a taste of you. Just by smelling you when you arrived already made him so hard in his pants. He bent down to you letting his body fall on your back. You slowly felt his hands crawl from your shoulders down to your hands. “I’ll be taking that promise now.” His breath brushing past your ear made you wet, shivering from anticipation.

A week ago, you may have promised something to Yoongi. When you’re finally done with the case, you promised him that you’ll allow him to dom you. Usually, it’s been always you who’s taking charge in the bedroom and Yoongi being the sub. You absolutely love seeing your boyfriend submitting to you in the bedroom. Although Yoongi is not really a dedicated sub, he loves it when you tell him that it feels so good acting all your fantasies in the relationship. You were the kinkier and more insatiable one between the two of you so he lets you lead. Tonight, you’ll be giving all the reins to Yoongi so when he knew that you’ll be staying with him this weekend, he texted you the lists of toys to bring.

“What do you want me to do?” You stood up and turned to face him. Yoongi understood what you’re asking of him. You are now submitting to him. His chest starts to swell up inside at finally having the chance to reverse the roles between the two of you.

“Start by calling me Sir.” Yoongi grabbed your chin, lightly tapping your cheeks. You gaze at his hooded eyes, now filled with desire and hunger to dominate you, making you starved to get a taste of him. “Kneel.” He pushed you down by your shoulders as he zips open his pants.

His cock sprung out of his pants, hitting you on the cheek. The enticing smell overwhelmed you. You deeply breathed to inhale his musk as your nose hit the tip of his cock. He gulped at the sight of you hungry for his cock. Your hands wandered towards his member when you heard Yoongi click his tongue. You open your eyes and gazed above. “You’ll only do what I tell you to do, understood?” a more commanding tone vibrated out of Yoongi, slightly surprising you at how he exudes himself right now. He brushed his thumb along your lower lips. “Answer me, kitten.” He tightens his grasp on your chin.

“Yes, sir.” You dropped your hands beside you as you let Yoongi, with his cock in hand, brush himself on your lips.

“Good girl.” He continues to swipe the tip of his cock, smearing his pre-cum on your lips. You hold yourself back from licking him and swallowing him whole. Every fiber of your being is getting impatient and just wants to stuff his cock inside your mouth this instant but a promise is a promise. You just have to wait and let him lead. “Stick out your tongue.”

He relishes the sight of you kneeling down for him, tongue out waiting for his cock. He put both of his hands in front of him against the wall as he aligns his cock in the tip of your tongue. “Purple is our safe word. You understand?” He gazes down at you, nodding enthusiastically.

Not soon after, he starts thrusting his cock so deep inside your mouth. Your head is pushed against the wall along with the rhythm and force of each thrusts. Something about his cock just satisfies you perfectly. The length is just enough to gag you but the girth, oh the girth. It hurts your jaw every time you suck him and if you had too much, you know you’re gonna have a hard time chewing your food tomorrow.

Sloppy sounds from the two of you started to fill up the room. Yoongi continues to bury his cock in your throat. He did stay deep for a few seconds a few times, grinding himself on you as you find difficulty to gasp for air. Tears started welling up in your eyes and Yoongi got concerned. You felt him pull away slightly but you assured him quickly that you’re fine. You know yourself that you won’t use the safe word tonight. You never did get to use it ever with Yoongi.

He gripped your neck, ever so slightly choking you as he pulls you to stand and leads you to the living room couch. He pushed you back to crash down on the soft couch. Quickly and not a second more, he crashed his lips with yours. Overwhelmed by the burning contact that’s long overdue, both of you breathed deeply as you allow each other to get intoxicated. Your hands tightly gripped the coach at both sides, controlling yourself from disobeying Yoongi. His tongue starts to lap at your sweet soft lips and continue to coil its way to your tongue.

Yoongi started moaning as he closed the distance between his crotch and your thighs. You felt him grind himself on you and your thighs started squirming at the sight of Yoongi satisfying himself on you. “Open, kitten.” He pushed your mouth open once more with his thumb. “Look at how hungry my kitten is for me. You’re so good for me.” He spits, letting his spit travel down slowly to your mouth. He chuckles at the sight of you swallowing for him.

“Sir, I want your cock now please?” Your thighs squirmed some more, wiggling while tightly closed together.

Yoongi clicked his tongue once more. “You’ve always been impatient. Always skipping foreplay and straight to fucking.”

“But sir, I’m really hungry for your cock.” You beg and whine.

“Good girls get rewards. Am I right, kitten? I have to prepare you well for what’s in store for tonight.” He bends down as he spreads your legs. Your thighs pushed towards you. He groans when he lifts up your skirt, noticing that you chose to come here without any underwear. He glared at you remembering that if he did not control himself a while ago when you were kissing him when you arrived, he could have lifted your skirt right then with Hoseok still present in the room.

“See? I am always so wet for you Sir. I can take your cock right now.” Your pussy, glistening with juices, further inviting him to devour you. He licks his lips before kissing your inner thigh.

“My kitten. When was the last time you touched yourself?” His breathe tickled your clit just as he let his nose slightly touch your clit. Yoongi sees you attempting to grind yourself to his face, impatient for his touch. You bit your lip as you stare and wait for your boyfriend. “Answer me when I ask you a question.” You gasp at the sudden bite on your inner thigh, soon followed by a warm lick from his feverish wet tongue.

“I have not touched myself for three weeks, sir. I really need your cock now, sir. Please.” You whine as you try to hold back your tears.

“Such a hardworking girl. I see you deserve a big reward.” He pulls the lips of your pussy to the side, making it taut and your clit standing to attention. He quickly swiped his tongue up your slit, finally tasting your juices dripping out from your pussy. He could say all kinds of profanities just from tasting you. You scratched and gripped what was around you at the overwhelming sensation. Yoongi continues to flick his tongue swiftly against your clit, followed by slurping and sucking. You arch your back as your hands finds its place on Yoongi’s hair.

His fingers soon landed on the rim of your pussy. He thrusts two inside very deeply, curling it to find your g-spot. You try to cover your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming at the intense pleasure. You’ve been so deprived of any touch for three weeks that just his tongue is enough to make you cum in seconds. However, you try your best to hold it out.

Yoongi fondles your breast with his hand as he licks your clit, while his other hand never faltering from fucking you. Seeing you lose yourself from his touch is making him drunk. He never saw you this submissive with him. With this, he adds another finger in your pussy. He licks your clit furiously as he sees you desperate to scream louder but you bite your lips to hold back. “Do you want to come, kitten?”

You gaze at him, furiously nodding. Begging to be allowed to reach your high. You see him smirk as he continues to thrust his fingers inside you. A second after, he pulled it all out, leaving you surprised and craving for him to return his fingers inside you. “Not yet. We still have to use this.” He lifts up a metal anal plug. He hands out the toy to let it touch your lips. Your eyes stay glued to him as you let your mouth open, sucking the toy. You see him staring at your mouth, licking his lips at how dirty you look right now.

The metal felt cold as it hits your tongue and teeth. You swirled your tongue around the bulbed end and he pulled it out of your mouth. He quickly pushed it inside your pussy without falter. He pulls it in and out twice to lubricate the toy with your juices before stopping just on the entrance of your ass.

You squirm as you felt the toy slowly stretching your behind. The sensation and stretch is too much for your first time. He doesn’t push everything at once, but slowly pulling it in and out as he slowly lets you adjust. He sees you shaking once he did push the entire plug inside you.

He wiped a strand of hair clinging on your sweaty forehead. Despite looking so fucked out, you’re still the most beautiful person he ever saw. You exchange a few seconds of sweet gazes before he inserted three fingers inside your pussy again while his other hand pulls the plug in and out.

“Oh my fuck… Yoongi. I’m gonna..” You came undone as he increased his speed from fucking you after he sees you writhing in reaching your high. You felt washed over with pleasure, vision hazy and ears ringing.

Yoongi still continued to thrust his fingers and the plug as you slowly finish. A sounding pop came from his fingers pulling out of you. He puts his fingers in his mouth, savoring your sweet taste of ecstasy. He curses, eyes closed, as he relishes the familiar taste.

The plug still within your puckered ass, you crawled back to the couch as you try to chase your breathing. Yoongi proceeds to walk back to the bag you left just near the door and when he came back to you, he pulled out a blindfold and a huge 8 inch pink dildo from your bag and placing it on the table in front of you. Yoongi, now fully naked, stood tall as he beckons you to remove all your clothes. “Stand up and sit down on my cock.”

Yoongi grins as he sees you eagerly standing up and waits for him to sit down. As soon as he sat down, he pats his thigh to gesture you to finally have what you’ve been eagerly waiting for. You turn around and before you sat down, you try to pull out the plug. Yoongi sees this and smacks your ass, granting a whimper from you. “I thought I told you not to do anything unless you’re told to. Keep it in!”

He groans like a beast from behind you as he placed both his hand on your waist. He pulls you down and lets his cock claim your pussy not a moment long. You whimper at the violent stretch and even more so when Yoongi started furiously humping his hips off the couch to fuck you harder. You noodle out sensual and erotic moans as you place your hands behind you and on Yoongi’s chest. “You’re so fucking tight.” He squeezed your waist so hard that the ache lingered when his hands left your skin. “You’re milking me. I won’t last if you’re this tight.” He lets out a guttural groan while he inch closer to your body. He marks you intensely on the crook of your neck. His hands wandered in front of you and tightly squeezed your breasts.

It feels so nice and naughty as you submit to the bliss of your love making. The pain from his rough hands is so gentle yet very shameless as well. He felt like a lion starving for his prey, you, who is presented on a silver platter. Every thrust of his cock feels primal. This reversal of roles is new to both of you but you find yourself finely adjusting.

“Do you want me to fill your ass with my hot…and sticky cum?” He sensually whispers into your ears. You quickly turn intoxicated with his erotic voice, scorching hot inside your chest and seeping wet from your pussy at the thought of him equally fucking your hard from your ass.

“Yes, sir. I would love that.” You turn your face to the side, surprising him with a slow and succulent lick across his lips. You felt like a drug to Yoongi, being this submissive to his every whim and drunk on sex. Something good actually came out from having to part with you for three weeks.

He pushes you off and eyes the anal plug still attached to you. He did not expect you to suddenly shake and cum again after he pulled out the plug. You dropped down with legs buckling, but he caught you in time just before you hit the floor. “Are you okay? Is it too much?” He lets you support yourself, bending forward and hands on the table. He bent down with his chest on your back, cock still erect touching your pussy. You chase your breathing and took your time before you answered him.

“I’m okay baby. Just getting used to this new you.” You giggled as you kiss his cheeks. “I promise to use our safe word if it’s too much.” He laughs as he felt you wiggle your butt on his cock.

“Always hungry for me, kitten?” he lets his hands comb through your hair before pulling it all back. You straighten your back, presenting your ass to him. He holds his cock in his hand, aligning it with your tight puckered muscle. “Put the blindfold and get the dildo, sweet kitten.” He lets go of your hair and allows you to bend forward to get the items he asked. You strap the blindfold on and blindly let your hand wander on the table to get the dildo.

As you were about to stand up back to him, you sense a slow shapely pressure on your ass as Yoongi tries to enter you. The unfamiliar and new stretch had you delirious from the pain and pleasure. You both find yourself breath taken as you wander through uncharted waters. Your tightness from behind is nothing compared to your pussy. If you had known how intense and sweet this was, you would have said yes to Yoongi to try this months ago. Yoongi hesitates to push his entire length on you, still taking his sweet time to let you adjust. However, you're patience is nearing its limit with Yoongi’s pace.

You push yourself back on him towards the couch, letting the both of you crash down. You scream at the intense sudden pain of having his cock rapidly filling you up when you fell on his lap. You lean your head back on his shoulder as he allow your scream to die down.

“How many times have I told you to obey me?” He squeezes your cheek, stealing the dildo from your hands. “I’m in charge here, not you kitten.” Yoongi smacking the dildo on your clit has your squirming and closing your legs. You can’t see anything and every sense you have seems to have heightened. “Remember who’s in charge or else, you’ll be punished.”

He gathers the dildo on the entrance of your pussy, lathering your juices around. “Punish me, baby. I’ve been a very impatient and disobedient girl.” You’ve now adjusted well to his cock. Yoongi saw you grind yourself on him, whining for more.

You hear him deeply chuckle then the dildo swiftly entered you until you felt it hit your womb. You try to suppress your voice and Yoongi felt this so he hooked his two fingers in your mouth, playing with your tongue to allow you to let your moans out. The merciless plunge of his cock in your ass and the unrelenting force of the dildo overwhelmed you. It was insane being fucked full by your boyfriend. You were submitting but you never felt this strong and satisfied when you were the one taking charge. The pain, the pleasure and the raw savageness of helplessness made you feel alive.

You respond to his each thrust with untamed moans, hands wandering on his body. You felt completely exposed and unguarded. “Tell me, kitten…” you continue to yield and moan for him when he whispered erotically in your ear. “Are you imagining somebody else’s cock inside your pussy filling you right now instead of the dildo?”

Your moans disappeared as you try to comprehend your boyfriend’s question. However, he continues to thrust in your ass and pussy, making your mind a mush. “I…”

“I think you have someone in mind and it’s not me, kitten.” His erect cock delved deep inside your ass, frozen from thrusting inside you. Although, he continues to push the dildo in and out with a force so savage, you can feel it bruising the entrance of your womb. “I’ve seen how you look at him. Do you wish that his cock should be the one fucking your pussy full right now?”

He gripped your chin with his other hand as you felt words stuck in your throat. You felt your chest tighten at the sudden confrontation. You don’t know if Yoongi is angry and punishing you right now because you can’t see him. He wouldn’t shame you like this normally so you don’t know if this is just the dirty talk or his true feelings. “Sir, I don’t…” you get caught up in your words as your blindfold is starting to get moist from your impending tears.

“I’m not angry kitten. I just want to hear what you truly feel. Whose cock, aside from mine, should be fucking you right now?”

It took you a while to get the knot out of your chest but you did. “I want Hoseok’s! Hoseok’s cock should be fucking me hard right now in the pussy while you destroy my ass!” You screamed. Yoongi slows the pace of the dildo in your pussy and pulls it out. You slumped on him, hungry for a reaction from your boyfriend. The blindfold is not helping the turmoil inside your chest. You want to face him and look straight at him to understand what kind of face he might be making right now.

“Good kitten.” He groaned from behind as he take the blindfold off you. You pry open your eyes, adjusting to the light. A naked figure stood in front of you as you rub your eyes to register the sight. Hoseok was standing tall in front of you and Yoongi, naked in all his glory and stroking his cock.

You jump slightly in your place but Yoongi pushes you back down, granting a sensual quiet moan from you since his cock is still deep in your ass. “Hoseok?!?....Why is he here?”

“This is your reward, little girl.” He continues to stroke his cock in front of you, smugly smirking to look at your boyfriend.

“It’s okay, kitten. I know you want this too.” Yoongi placed his chin on your shoulder as you’re still staring at Hoseok’s face. You turn to your boyfriend and you both stare at each other for a few seconds. You try to read his eyes, unsure if you’re really allowed to finally act on your feelings

“I don’t want to do this if you don’t, baby…” He sensed your panic so he cupped your cheeks to kiss you. A slow and sweet exchange of your lips made you understand that he really is letting you go ahead. He parts with your lips and sweetly gazed at you.

“I want this as well. Go ahead.” Yoongi nods his head to Hoseok, prompting you to allow yourself to submit to both of them. “This is okay. Take care of our girl, Hoseok. I trust you both.” You face Hoseok, who’s still furiously pumping himself to you. With the permission of his older roommate, Hoseok now shamelessly takes in your naked figure as he licks his lips.

He’s been wanting this for so long as well. He developed feelings for Yoongi first, when they became roommates. He’s been so good at hiding it not until Yoongi introduced you to him. At first, he was jealous and irritated whenever you would visit and stay at their apartment. The longer you spent time with Hoseok, he also found himself loving you. Hearing you come undone and screaming with Yoongi every night with just a wall separating him from the two of you was brutal. He loved you both, wanting to touch you and Yoongi as well. He was determined to keep it all a secret up until when Yoongi confronted him.

Yoongi suspected Hoseok has feelings for you with how he acted every time you were with the two of them. Of course, he felt something from you as well. Being quiet and reserved meant that he was very good at reading everybody else’s expressions and feelings. He was proven right when Hoseok confessed with his feelings towards you when he tried to confront him. He was taken by surprise though when Hoseok confessed to loving him as well. He didn’t expect it but also didn’t dislike it. Maybe something in him also feels something for his younger roommate. They did talk it out and came to a conclusion to talk to you about it. Yoongi was the one who initiated the surprise threesome. Hoseok wasn’t on board with it at first but now that you’re here, he’ll accept everything even if you reject him.

You let your lust and feelings take over you. You wait for either of them to command you. Hoseok sees your eyes change from reluctant to now willing to submit to him. He takes it as your acceptance of him. He groans as he walks closer to you, cock in your face. His cock smelled amazing. You take in the unfamiliar yet enticing smell as you sniff his shaft, granting a groan from the two males at the sight of you.

“Suck me now, little girl.” You opened your mouth to invite him in. Hoseok leans his head back as euphoria hits him from the satisfaction of having your warm and wet mouth capture his cock. His cock was different from Yoongi. He’s not as girthy as your boyfriend but the length is amazing. Your mouth is already full but there’s still enough left for your hand to play with. “Fuck, I can’t handle this. You feel amazing.” Hoseok wraps his hands on your hair as he started to furiously rock deep inside your mouth. You could feel him reach your throat. Your moans, now muffled by the huge cock occupying your mouth. Hoseok could come apart right there at the sight of your throat bulging from his cock and from the vibrations of your throat as you try to moan loudly, when Yoongi started tapping Hoseok’s hand away from your head.

“I said take care of her, not kill her.” Hoseok loses his hold on your head when he heard Yoongi as he pulled out of your mouth. You gagged and coughed but you swat your hands at them.

“Yoongi, I���m fine. I actually like it.” You swipe the drool off your lips and turned to face your boyfriend. “I’m not using my safe word, am I? So get on with it and fuck my ass full!” Yoongi and Hoseok, surprised at your outcry and commanding tone, just went quiet.

“I didn’t hear you calling him Sir, did I?” Hoseok grabbed your chin and lightly slapped you. “Did he allow you to take over? No! You’re our slut tonight so just obey us.” You were taken aback at Hoseok’s change in demeanor. You were a dom to Yoongi, but Hoseok felt different. You shiver in your place, unfamiliar with the feeling of fear from disobeying the sultry man in front of you. With Yoongi, you were willing to act as a sub tonight but it felt like you were really a sub to Hoseok.

All you do was agree as he slaps you once more in the cheek. It was not painful as you imagined. You know Hoseok still cared for you and wouldn’t really hurt you so you find yourself relaxing under Yoongi, waiting patiently for Hoseok to now command the two of you under him. “Fuck her hard, Yoongi, so that she knows her place. I’ll make sure to fill her pussy to the brim.” He licks his lips as both you and Yoongi stare at the dominant male.

Yoongi started to lunge his hips towards you, bouncing you on his lap. You scream at the pleasant sensation of being fucked in the ass. You see Hoseok smirking as he lines his cock at your pussy. Slowly, you felt him open up your walls as he continue to plunge his erect and long member. Hoseok gently bites and licks your shoulder as he tries his best not to come apart from the wonders of your pussy. It was heavenly. Filthy moans, your bodies tangled with each other, and sloppy sounds from their cocks entering you filled the room. You three were drunk from the pleasure, frenzy mushing your heads making you groggy.

You wrapped your hands around Hoseok’s back, pulling him towards you. Hoseok, surprised at the sudden proximity of his face with Yoongi, avoids eyes contact as he continue to fuck your pussy hard. Yoongi chuckled at the sight of his younger roommate getting shy despite being so commanding with you and him a while ago. He placed a peck on Hoseok’s forehead. Hoseok turned to Yoongi, now cheeks burning caused by the sweet kiss. They stared at each other, Yoongi sweetly smiling at him and Hoseok smiling at the feeling of being accepted by Yoongi as well.

You pull Hoseok’s face to yours, breaking their small moment. “I want to be filled, sir.” You gaze at him with eyes hooded. Hoseok realized that you’ve gone far off now and all he wants is to satisfy you.

“Little girl deserves her reward.” He looked at Yoongi and soon after, both of them pounded into you furiously. Overwhelming sensation from being full from both holes, Hoseok painfully fucking your pussy up up to the entrance of your womb, and Yoongi fully stretching your ass out. You scream as you let yourself in your bliss. You exploded from the ecstasy brought on by the two men you truly care and love. Yoongi and Hoseok moaned and squeezed their hands on you as they felt you squeeze down on them, milking them to reach their own orgasm.

You twist, still glued to them, as you felt their warm liquid fill you up from the front and behind. The three of you, panting, as all of you let your orgasm finish. Still twined with each other, you hugged Hoseok tightly before he parts from you.

“Are you okay? You came three times, you must be exhausted. I’ll prepare a bath for the both of you.” Hoseok quickly ran back to the bathroom, disappearing from the living room.

Yoongi lifts you up to stand, pulling his cock out your ass. He lets out another groan as he sees you leaking with both of their cum. You truly look filthy right now, but his heart won’t stop pounding in his chest as he take in your beautiful face. He swipes the leaking cum off your thigh and he pulls you back on the couch. He places his fingers coated with cum in your mouth. You willingly suck it clean, tasting the mixture of Yoongi and Hoseok on you. He examines you as you breathe deeply, trying to relax post-coitus.

“Wow. Baby. If I had known how fun it is to see you take charge, I would have let you do it occasionally. Also, that was awesome.” You hug Yoongi as you place your legs across his thighs.

“Are you okay? It was not too much, was it?” Yoongi wipes the sweat off your forehead.

“I’m fine, baby.” You placed your lips on him, intimately. You want him to feel your happiness and ultimately, your intense love for him. “So what does this mean? With Hoseok?”

“I know you love him and he does too. I’ve been suspecting it for a while now. I just waited for either of you to talk to me.” Yoongi tucks in your hair behind your ear.

“But I love you more. You’re the one I want the most.” You quickly rebut him, careful as not to hurt him with any of your words.

“I know, kitten. Trust me, I do love you both too and it makes me happy seeing the two of you together too.”

“But he’s your friend...”

“I love him too, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Hoseok suddenly appeared in the room. “I won’t force myself between the two of you. I’ll go wherever you want me to stay in this relationship. I’m happy with just the two of you knowing how I feel.” He stands straight at the edge of the living room, hesitant to walk further and respecting the current situation.

You turn to Yoongi and silently stared at each other. You quickly understood what this meant. Your heart felt huge and swollen at the amount of love you’re now receiving. You’re loved by Yoongi and Hoseok.

“Come here, Hobi.” You gesture him to come closer and he did, smiling enthusiastically as he knew that the both of you are now accepting him and willing to share each other.

“I love you both!” Hoseok crashed down on both of you, granting a loud giggle from you while Yoongi smiled silently.

No reward can ever top this one. Surely, the night is still young.

[hookedonapirate]

A Date for the Holidays (and everyday too would be nice)

Summary: Tired of the constant backlash from her family about being single, Emma finds herself striking an arrangement with a roguishly handsome stranger at the mall the day after Christmas. Now she won't have to be alone for the holidays. Emma and Killian agree to be each other's dates, no strings attached, no commitment, no pressure. Just two friends getting together to appease her annoying family and get his brother off his back. It's the perfect setup really...until sticking to the holidays isn't enough. What happens when they both want more?

Holidate AU

A/N: Thank you for all of your feedback from the first chapter 🥰

I don't know how many of you have watched the movie, but I have to say, besides the sexy accent, I wasn't super impressed with Jackson, and I tried to make Killian as Killian as possible in this fic. So there will be much more pining than there was in the movie.

Thank you to the lovely @veryverynotgood for beta reading!

Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 // Ch 9 // Ch 10 // Ch 11

Also available on: AO3 // FF.N

Chapter 2

New Year's Eve

Killian doesn’t think he could get any more nervous than he already is...until the Uber pulls up in front of the house Emma gave him the address to. And he thinks the anxiety he feels might have to do with how decked out the house is, with the Christmas lights and tall candy canes in the front yard strung together around the Santa and reindeer and the large blow-up snowmen and gingerbread people, or the fact that seeing her parents’ house just made this all too real.

Either way, his stomach is coiled in knots as he makes his way up the walkway. Emma doesn’t live with her parents, but when she told them she had a date for New Year’s Eve, they were insistent upon meeting him. He’s fine with that—he truly is—but he hopes her parents will like him.

He had sort of downplayed how attracted to her he was at the mall. He couldn’t exactly say, hey, I ran into you because your incredible beauty distracted me. He was on his way to the vitamin store when he spotted this beautiful stranger with her long golden curls, pouty red lips that were begging to be kissed and those sparkling pools of emerald beneath long, dark lashes...he doesn’t even know how to describe her eyes exactly, all he knows is they momentarily made him forget his own name. And when she mentioned the holidate idea, he had hoped she’d offer to be his date, because he was too afraid to ask her himself. He, Killian Jones, was too afraid to ask a woman on a date.

He normally has no problem asking out women he’s interested in—there haven’t been a lot—but ever since Milah broke his heart, he’s been trying to protect himself. And he didn’t exactly tell Emma the truth about his brother. The reason he works on the holidays isn’t that Liam makes him work; it’s because Killian would rather work than face another holiday alone. He knows he shouldn't have lied, but he didn’t want Emma to think he was just desperate to find a date for the holidays. He didn’t want to bring his baggage into the equation.

Killian chuckles when he reads the welcome mat in front of the door.

If there’s no answer, we’re either under a sleeping curse or making tacos.

His nerves ease a bit, but the way Emma described her family, they seemed more intense than the welcome mat suggests.

Killian takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly and heavily before he rings the doorbell. He’s looking down at his feet, reminding himself to relax and trying to convince himself everything will be fine.

The bells hanging from the top of the Christmas wreath chime when the door opens.

The first things he sees when he lifts his gaze are the black fuck-me heels on her feet—bloody hell, even her toes are sexy—and he moves his eyes up her body to take in the entire package.

Long legs that are tan and toned and go on for days, a black dress that hugs all her luscious curves. And then there’s the sweetheart neckline with a deep v-cut which showcases the most fantastic breasts he’s ever laid eyes on. She is so goddamn sexy, and he’s hard as a rock just imagining how good she'd look out of that dress. Which is not a visual he should be having when he’s about to meet her family.

“Wow…you look,” he breathes, barely able to lift his jaw off the ground long enough to get the words out, “stunning.”

When he lifts his eyes, her cheeks are painted a beautiful shade of pink as she flashes a pearly white smile. His face heats as she seems to be appreciating the view in front of her. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” She lets him inside and grabs her clutch purse and red jacket from the closet.

Once she returns, his eyes are again spanning up and down her form, but they keep gravitating toward her gorgeous breasts, and he keeps remembering what she looked like covered in his green juice. Her breasts looked fantastic even then, but it doesn’t compare to the way they look in her dress.

“Killian?”

The sound of his name pulls his attention from Emma and toward the man coming up behind her. Who, oddly enough, Killian recognizes. His stomach drops when he sees David standing there in the foyer to meet him. “Mr. Nolan?”

“What are you doing here?” David’s eyes flick to Emma as he puts the pieces together. “Wait, you’re my daughter’s date?”

Daughter?

Killian blinks in disbelief as he glances between Emma and David. The brother she had mentioned was Leo, the one who got engaged on Christmas? And David is her father? “Wait, you’re um…” He swallows hard, still trying to process this. “You’re Emma’s father?” There is a keen resemblance between the two, and he’s not sure why he didn’t notice before when he met Emma at the mall. He knew there was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on why at the time.

“Yes, I am,” David answers curtly, crossing his arms as he gives Killian a hard stare. “And you’re the guy Emma met at the mall who’s taking her on a date?”

“Aye.” He nods and shifts his gaze to Emma, who seems to be just as baffled as he is. “I had no idea she was your daughter.”

“Hey Killian, what’s up?” Leo comes up to him, giving him a high five, and a young woman who looks to be about the same age is next to him, her arm wrapped around his back.

“Hi, lad. How are you?”

“I’m great! I finally proposed to my girlfriend,” he says excitedly. And Killian knows Emma’s cringing since Leo says finally, as though he’s been seeing Audrey for years, when in reality, he and Audrey have only been together for five months. “This is my fiancé, Audrey.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Audrey,” Killian says, shaking her hand. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thank you,” they both say, exchanging blushing smiles.

“So, you’re taking my big sis out?”

Emma rolls her eyes at the title. “It’s older sis.”

Killian refrains from laughing, because her correction reminds him of Liam calling him little brother, no matter how many times Killian corrects him.

“Aye, I hope that’s okay with you.” Killian scratches behind his ear, hoping Leo doesn’t get all protective on him.

“No, not at all. That’s awesome.” He looks at Emma and grins. “He’s a great guy. I don’t know why I didn’t think to set you two up before.”

Emma rolls her eyes again.

Killian’s relieved Leo’s not opposed to the idea of him taking his sister out.

David, however, doesn’t appear to feel the same way.

Emma’s brows knit together as she looks between her dad and brother. “Wait, how do you guys know Killian?”

“He and his brother own the tackle and bait shop, where Leo and I get our fishing supplies.”

Audrey furrows her brows at Leo. “Wait, you fish?”

“Yeah, Dad and I go all the time.”

Killian scratches behind his ear, his cheeks heated. “Well, this is awkward.”

“Who’s at the door?” A woman with a pixie haircut enters the foyer. Her eyes widen when she sees Killian, a big smile overtaking her face. “Oh, you must be Killian!” she squeals.

He forces a polite smile. “And you must be Mrs. Nolan?”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so formal. Please call me Mary Margaret!”

Killian extends his hand, but instead of shaking it, she throws her arms around him. He doesn’t want to come off as rude, so he hugs her in return as he glances at Emma, who looks like she just wants to leave. “Now, you take care of my daughter, you hear me?” she says as they break the hug.

“No worries, your daughter couldn’t be in better hands,” he says with a smirk, trying to ignore the nerves in his stomach and how awkward this situation is.

“That’s exactly what worries me.” David’s still glaring at him, and this is a side Killian’s never seen of him before. Usually when he comes into the shop, he’s friendly and always wants to shoot the breeze. But that was before he knew Killian was going on a date with his daughter.

“Ohhh-kkkay, I think it’s time to go,” Emma says, grabbing Killian’s hand. His heart flutters in his chest, his skin tingling when he feels Emma’s warm palm against his.

“Well, you two have fun,” Mary Margaret calls after them as they head out the door.

“But not too much fun,” David adds sternly.

He can feel Emma wince as they run out the door and down the porch steps.

“Well, those were my parents,” Emma says with a sigh once they’re both in the backseat of the Uber, buckling their seat belts.

“I can’t believe I know your father and brother. When you described your family, I hadn’t pictured David and Leo.”

“Yeah, well, my dad treats me like I’m a porcelain doll or something, but he’s your typical prince charming to everyone else,” she says bitterly.

“Unless you’re dating his daughter,” Killian chuckles.

She shoots him a venomous glare, and he shudders, but he doesn’t hate it. Not at all.

~🥂~

The club is packed and loud as Emma and Killian stand at the second-floor railing of the club, looking out over the raving crowd screaming and hollering below.

“White satin ruffles...tuxedo, just drenched in sweat.” He nods toward the couple in question. “That bloke’s definitely proposing at midnight.”

Emma hums in agreement, turning to look at Killian. “You’re good.”

“It’s a gift,” Killian boasts with a proud grin and looks over at her, unable to help the way his eyes land on her breasts. He leans into Emma’s space to say something in her ear. “I think you should know, your tits look exceptional in that dress, love. Even better than they do in a white t-shirt and green juice.” As soon as the words come out of his mouth, Killian’s expecting her to slap him across the face. During the Uber ride here, they agreed to be open and honest with each other because one downfall of relationships is all the dishonesty. And the whole point of holidating is to avoid all the typical relationship stuff.

He’s relieved when Emma smiles and blushes, glancing down at herself before returning her eyes to his. “Thanks, that’s why I bought it.” She does a slow spin to give him the full effect.

“Mmm, I love the way it hugs your ass.”

When Emma’s facing him again, she tilts her head and seems to melt at his compliment as she places her hand on his shoulder, her cheeks pink. “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.” Killian chuckles. “This is brilliant. I can say whatever I want and not have to worry about you breaking up with me for not being cordial since this isn’t meant to be an actual date.” He’s inwardly grimacing though, because he wishes he did have to worry about being cordial and appropriate around her. He wishes this were an actual date. But it’s not. And he keeps having to remind himself of that.

“Exactly! And I can dress like a slut without worrying about being slut-shamed,” Emma states, seemingly relieved by this.

“What a holidate bonus!” Killian high fives her, and his skin once again tingles at her touch.

Emma’s eyes widen as she looks over his shoulder. “Aunt Ruby?!”

Killian turns around to see a tall brunette in a dress that matches the color of her crimson lips and the streaks in her hair.

“Emma?” She drags her date over, who looks much younger than her, and pulls Emma into a hug. “Hey, baby!” As they pull apart, a big grin crawls over her lips as she gives Emma a once over. “Your tits look great in that dress!”

Emma laughs a bit as Killian grins and nods in agreement. “That’s what I said.”

Ruby gestures to her date. “This is Peter.”

“Pete,” he corrects, giving Killian and Emma a small wave.

“We met at the Art Institute.” She hugs her date’s arm. “I was a nude model for his figure-sculpting class. He made me the most perfect clay clitoris…” she stares off dreamily into space with a blushing smile on her lips, “...like a butterfly taking flight.”

Killian looks over at Emma to see the disgusted expression on her face while he simply raises an eyebrow.

Ruby flashes him a sultry smirk. “So, who’s this?” she asks her niece.

Killian can’t believe Ruby’s her aunt. She looks too young. But he’s guessing she’s Mary Margaret’s younger sister. He does remember David mentioning he had a sister and brother, though, but he said the three were triplets, and Ruby looks younger than David.

Emma wraps her arm around his back and grins happily, so Killian does the same, winding his arm around her. “Aunt Rubes, this is my date, Killian.”

Ruby’s eyes light up. “Your mom said you were bringing a date. I just thought she was hoping to set you up with someone.”

“Nope. Snatched this one up all on my own,” she giggles, looking up at Killian.

He flashes a grin at Ruby. “That’s right. Apparently she’s a sucker for blokes who spill their green juice down her shirt.”

Emma nods and teases playfully as she wraps her other arm around his front, making his stomach do somersaults. “Yep, you know me. I swoon over guys who can’t watch where they’re going.”

“I couldn’t help it, love. This blonde beauty who was charging toward the customer service desk with her lumberjack pants distracted me.”

Killian grunts when he feels Emma’s elbow jabbing at his side.

Ruby narrows her eyes suspiciously at Emma. “You returned the pants your mom got you for Christmas, didn’t you?”

Emma sighs. “I tried, but someone messed them up. And they're too big for me to fit into.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her,” Ruby assures with a wink.

“Thank you,” Emma says appreciatively.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Killian.”

“You, too.”

“Happy New Year, kids. Have fun!” She blows Emma a kiss and pulls her date away.

“Your aunt seems nice. Is she the one who got her cookie licked on Christmas?”

Emma groans, obviously revolted by the memory. “Yeah, but Peter wasn’t the cookie licker. She has a different date for every holiday.”

For some reason, Killian’s heart drops as he wonders if Emma will do the same. He wonders if this date is only a one-time thing. “So, first it’s the cookie licker, then the cookie...molder?” He chuckles. “Is she your dad’s sister, or your mother’s?”

“Neither. At least not biologically. She’s my mom’s best friend.”

“Ah, I see.” Killian turns toward her. “Would you like a drink, love?”

She nods. “Please.”

When they reach the bar, Killian orders a glass of champagne for Emma and a glass of rum for himself. They find a cozy sofa to sit on and chat and drink, just enjoying the night.

“There’s no way in hell her character would ever do that!” Emma exclaims, taking a sip of her champagne.

“Who cares? It was funny.”

“Uh-uh.” She lowers her glass. “It was cockamamie.”

Killian chuckles. “No one uses that word anymore.”

Emma scoffs. “Well, it’s the only word I know that accurately describes every romantic comedy in history.” She rolls her eyes. “There’s always some fake reason the stars can’t be together when you already know they’re gonna be together from the movie poster.”

Killian nods in agreement and chuckles, bringing the tumbler to his lips.

She balls her hand into a fist and brings it to her eye to imitate someone who’s crying. “It’s like ‘boo-hoo, I’m so heartbroken. Even though you’re perfect for me, I’m taking a break from dating.’”

Killian snorts out another laugh.

“No one is ever…” she sips her champagne again, lowering her glass before continuing, “taking a break from dating. Let me tell you, if Ryan Gosling waltzed in here, picked me up and floated me around to the theme of Dirty Dancing, I’m not gonna be like ‘oh, hey, Ryan, buddy, bad timing. I’m taking a break from dating.’ I am jumping on that train. The Ryan Gosling train.”

“I'd jump on the Ryan Gosling train,” Killian agrees, clinking his glass against Emma’s, and they drink to that. “So, who was this dickhead who ruined romantic comedies for you.”

Emma shakes her head, her face souring at the topic. “I’d rather not go there.”

Killian tilts his head at her. “Oh, come on, we’re already here.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs as Killian leans forward.

“What was his name? Bill? Fred? Carlos? Bob? Tim? Come on, who was it?” he asks again after she still doesn’t answer.

Emma gives in with a sigh. “His name was Neal.”

“Neal?” Killian groans. “Ugh, sounds like a wanker.”

“He wasn’t at first.” A look of nostalgia crosses her face. “He was sweet and nice and taught me how to unlock doors with tumblers. And I liked how his eyes crinkled when he laughed.”

“What happened?” Killian immediately regrets asking her more about the bloke. He’s not feeling one bit of jealousy in his stomach. Definitely not.

“We wanted different things. I wanted someone to take home for the holidays...he wanted to text photos of his tiny dick to the girl who made his double macchiatos.” She forces out a laugh.

Killian’s face sours, and the jealousy he felt a second ago morphs into anger. He doesn’t understand why anyone would cheat on a bombshell like Emma. Or anyone, for that matter. “That’s rough, love.”

“It was my own fault for listening to my cousin, Anna. She said to always date down so I didn’t get my heart broken by someone who’s too hot to be trusted. I should’ve known better.” She sighs. “I have to pee.”

Killian watches her walk away as he downs his rum, thinking the advice her cousin gave her was terrible, but on the other hand, if Emma tried to date someone above her, she’d die alone, because he doesn’t think there’s any guy too good for her.

They spend the next few hours drinking, dancing, hijacking giant bubble wands, playing with sparklers, and definitely not setting a table on fire and having to put it out with a glass of water. As midnight approaches, they return to the railing on the second floor, both of them a bit tipsy from all the alcohol they imbibed.

It’s not long before the DJ makes the announcement over the speakers. “Are y’all ready for a new year, Storybrooke?!” The crowd cheers. “Grab your sweethearts and let’s do this thing!”

The countdown begins as the numbers are displayed on the giant screen at the front of the club.

“Ten...nine...eight…”

Killian’s heart thunders in his chest as he looks at Emma, not sure if she wants him to kiss her or not, but the way she’s biting her bottom lip as she eyes his lips tells him she does. So he turns toward her, relieved when she follows suit.

“Three...two...one! Happy New Year!”

The crowd roars as Frank Sinatra pours from the speakers and horns and party poppers go off in all directions.

Killian frames her face in his hands, crushing his lips with hers. He sighs in relief when she wraps her arms around the back of his neck, pulling him close. Everything around them—all the noises and cheering and music—fades into the background, and it’s just him and Emma kissing like their life depends on it. But she’s a bloody good kisser, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get this chance again, so he soaks in every fucking second of it, sweeping his tongue along the seam of her lips. When she parts her mouth invitingly, he immediately swipes his tongue against hers, tasting the champagne in her sweet mouth. Her smell, her taste, the way her skin feels under his palms are so intoxicating. He angles his head to deepen the kiss, breathe her in and let himself get lost in her mouth for however small amount of time he has with her.

The kiss is over far too soon for his liking, and they both stand there, catching their breaths, foreheads pressed together, holding on to each other for dear life.

He pushes the butterflies in his stomach down, reminding himself this isn’t real. But if it’s not, then why can’t he get the fucking kiss they shared out of his head and why is his heart still beating when they both climb inside the Uber?

They sit quietly in the back of the car, sharing awkward glances now that their so-called date is coming to an end and they had shared an explosive kiss that still has him trying to recover. “Tonight was....” Killian finally breaks the silence, his voice still completely wrecked from that kiss. And maybe his heart, too.

“A one-time thing.” She doesn’t even look at him when she says it.

His heart sinks into his stomach. “But what about Valentine’s Day? That’s the worst holiday to be alone on.”

“But it’s over a month away. A lot could happen before then. And if not, I have a standing date at a candy store, so I’m good.”

“Alright.” Killian offers a frail smile as the car comes to a stop in front of Emma’s place. He’s disappointed this was their first and only date, but then he remembers she still has his flannel shirt, and he’s filled with hope, knowing she’ll have an excuse to see him again.

“Let me get your shirt. Be right back.”

Well, fuck.

“You don’t have to worry about that right now, love,” he insists.

“No, it’s fine. It will just take a second.” Emma flees from the Uber before he can argue with her any further. He drops his head against the back of the seat and sighs. Tonight was the most fun he’s had in a long time, and he’s sad it has to come to an end.

Emma returns two minutes later and opens the door, handing him his shirt. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“Of course, love.”

She bends down into the car and plants her lips on his cheek. “I had fun.”

“Me, too. Goodnight!” He calls out. “Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year.”

When Emma shuts the door, the car pulls away, and Killian shifts around in his seat and sees her standing outside, watching the Uber drive off. Killian's heart sinks as the distance between them widens, but he doesn’t know why. Tonight was meant to be a one date only situation. Just one night of relaxing and having fun. One night of spending time with someone without all the romantic stuff getting in the way.

If only he could get her scent out of his nostrils or remove the taste and feel of her lips from his. If only he could stop replaying that kiss in his head.

If only he didn’t already have feelings for her.

Facing forward again, he brings the shirt to his nose and breathes in slowly, taking in her cinnamon, citrus and floral scent that still lingers in the fabric. The same fabric that touched her soft, creamy skin. Her perfect breasts.

That thought will haunt him everytime he sees it or puts it on.

Fuck.

He's never washing this shirt again.

[bibliosophist]

Soft as Bread, Sweet as Honey Chapter 1

Beel x Female Reader.

Description: Being the only female human in the Devildom can be tough, especially when you're surrounded by beautiful demons all day long. Your feelings of inadequacy are only heightened around the beautiful brothers, especially Beelzebub, who is as firm as you are soft.

(I've firmly set the characters to be college aged (give or take a few thousand years for the demons), since the idea of writing smut about high school kids squicks me out.) Porn with Plot.

Notes: Hello! This is my first fic in literally years, and my first Obey Me fic ever. Will eventually migrate over to AO3 when I get my new invitation. Let me know what you like because ~*I don't know what I'm doing*~

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Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | One of the things you miss the most about the human world is the sun. The Devildom exists in perpetual shade, and while the demons don’t seem to mind it (“No UV damage to worry about!” Asmo has reminded you multiple times), you miss the warmth on your skin. Today you’re feeling particularly nostalgic, so you’ve decided to sit in the grass of the RAD gardens for lunch. You have to admit that it is beautiful out here, if not in a way that you’re used to. The way the dusky purple sky just barely illuminates the garden causes shadows to dapple the stonework and dance over the petals of the jewel hued flowers. It also casts just enough light for you to see the other students walking through the open air hallways. They move with ethereal grace, willowy figures accentuated by the clean lines and tapered waists of your school uniforms. You hunch forward over your lunch, poking at your sad looking salad-- mixed lettuce, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, light dressing-- without enthusiasm. Your body confidence wasn’t stellar in the human world, and now that you’re surrounded by beings that look like they had climbed from an Aubrey Beardsley work, you feel particularly unappealing.

“That’s not all you’re eating, is it?” says a voice from above you, before you feel someone drop down to sit on the grass beside you. You start, pulled from your thoughts as you look over into Beelzebub’s face. Even sitting, he towers over you. His brows are pulled together over his amethyst eyes as he watches you chew on a leaf of lettuce. Apparently, he’s actually waiting for an answer because he pokes you in the arm and repeats himself, leaning over to look at the salad in your bowl.

“Uh, I mean- yeah.” you say, glancing away from him. Then you clue in. “Oh, do you want some?” you ask, spearing a tomato and holding it out to him.

“Are you kidding? That’s not even enough for you,” he says, though he does lean in and take the tomato off your fork. “Oops, sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

“Sure it is,” you say, going for a cucumber wedge, “it’s perfectly fine.”

The furrow between his eyebrows grows. “I don’t know a lot about humans, but I’m pretty sure that’s not true. Come to the cafeteria with me. They’ve got havoc devil tacos today. I’ve already had five, but I could go for a few more.”

You swallow. You can’t help but notice how handsome Beel looks, even in his rumpled uniform. As usual, he’s left the jacket open and hasn’t bothered to button his green shirt up all the way. If he was wearing a tie this morning, he’s discarded it by now.. Though he’s wearing a t-shirt underneath, you can see the outline of his firm chest. There’s no way you’re going to eat anything else in front of him-- maybe ever.

“It’s such a nice day,” you say, “I just want to stay here in the garden. Hey, did you start that project on genetic splicing for Professor Xavier?” you ask, desperately trying to switch the subject away from food.

Beel looks up at the sky, the violet color of the atmosphere reflecting off of his eyes, making them look like pools of liquid amethyst. “I guess it’s okay out. Yeah, we’ve started. Satan is my lab partner for this project, so he’s got most things covered. It’s best just to stay out of his way, you know?”

You laugh, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. “I have Sybil. She’s already got our talking points outlined and a study schedule drawn up. I don’t think I’ll be seeing much of you guys this week.”

He nodded, chuckling. “I was her partner for a History project once, I don’t think she even let me sleep.”

You wonder if History class was the only time Beel and Sibyl were ever partners. You can’t help but notice the way she looks at him-- or the way she looks. She’s beautiful and leggy, with hair so soft you’re pretty sure that even Asmo is jealous. You do your best to turn your grimace into a smile. Sibyl is a lovely person. Er, demon. You know your feelings of inadequacy aren’t her fault.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick. It’s probably from all that rabbit food, I really think some tacos would make you feel better.”

“Look, Beel... I appreciate it, but just stop, okay? Stop offering me food.” You pull your legs closer to your body and dip your head, trying your best to occupy as little space as possible in front of the beautiful demon.

“I- okay. I’m sorry.” He pauses, then laughs, “I guess I just forget that not everybody is as hungry as me.”

“It’s not that,” you mumble as you feel your cheeks redden “I’m just... I’m on a diet, okay?” When he doesn’t say anything right away, your gut clenches and you instinctively try to lighten the mood, “I don’t need any more carbs, my thighs look like loaves of bread already!” You force a laugh.

He mumbles something beside you, and you’re worried that you’ve made him uncomfortable now. You doubt that Beel has ever looked less than incredible in his entire life. It’s quiet for a moment while you rack your brain desperately, looking for something else to say. But then, “Does that bother you?” he asks, voice quiet.

“What? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”

You hear him suck in a breath, and you raise your head to look at him, confused. Now it’s his cheeks that are flushed, his eyes on the ground. “I said, I know, and... and I like them.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. You feel like your stomach is in your chest, and it’s fighting for space with your heart, which you swear has started beating louder. You can’t help but picture Sibyl’s tiny, porcelain smooth thighs, and the perfect gap between them. You pull your skirt down lower, hoping to cover as much of your skin as you can. Even though your uniform is modest, you’ve never felt more exposed. You’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting.

“So,” he clears his throat, still looking at the ground as he tugs out fistfuls of grass, “does- does that bother you?”

“No, of course not. I just think that maybe you’re mistaken.”

Now he’s looking at you. Right at you. Surprise is written all over his face. “You think I’m mistaken about what I like?”

Now that you hear him say it, you realize how ridiculous it sounds. Did you honestly just say that? Yes, you did. And yes, you know it sounds stupid. But you stand by it anyway. “I just don’t see how anybody could, especially you. They’re all soft and dimply, and they touch when I stand up. You’re so...” you gesture at his body, “firm.”

Beel’s face and throat are absolutely scarlet now. You notice that his skin clashes beautifully with his hair, and your heart rate kicks up another notch. “Muscular isn’t the only way to look good,” he says, “I like soft, too.” He turns his body towards you and reaches forward, hand hovering over the hem of your skirt. “Can I... touch you?”

You stammer out something between “yes” and “sure” that comes out sounding like “yer” as he places his hand on your knee, running it up and down your thigh, pushing your skirt up as his warm palm glides over your skin. You’ve never noticed how big his hands are before. He moves his hand up to your knee again before running it back down, this time trailing his fingers all the way down the back of your thigh, brushing over the hem of your underwear. Your skin tingles where it touches his, and you gasp softly. He draws his hand away.

“Sorry. Too much?” he asks, his voice catching.

“No,” you say, unconsciously leaning towards him. You swallow, your throat suddenly very dry. “Not enough.”

He draws in a breath before closing the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is feather light, just a brush of lips, a testing of the waters. One of his hands weaves into your hair, gently cupping the back of your head as the other resumes stroking your leg. You sigh, leaning into him and deepening the kiss, softly sucking one of his lips into your mouth. He groans softly against you, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your panties. You clutch his wrinkled jacket in your hand, pulling him closer just as the alarm on your D.D.D. goes off, signalling the end of your break. 

[cdyssey]

Holiday

Summary: Grace and Frankie have a heart-to-heart after 7x03. | AO3 Link

—

Grace makes margaritas that night to celebrate Grankiekuh, the new holiday that she and Frankie just made up to celebrate the fact that Frankie doesn’t feel the need to make up holidays to avoid her anymore.

“You just squished our names together and threw the -kuh from Hanukkah at the end,” Grace accuses, chuckling. 

Light.

Playful.

Simply exuberant.

Just an hour ago, she was guzzling martinis on the couch with her ex-husband trying to figure out the quickest way to apologize to Frankie for a twenty-year-old mistake.

And now they’re planning a fake holiday together, and everything is somehow right in a world that also features her current husband sleeping in a jail cell.

“You have to admit—it has a certain ring to it,” Frankie hums determinedly. “We could be the new Shefani, the octogenarian Bennifer!”

“Well, don’t expect me to passionately hold your ass on a speedboat anytime soon,” Grace teases as she carefully measures tequila in a cylinder and then pours a little more than the recommended amount just to be safe.

“Nah,” her partner winks conspiratorially. “Just my hand across a candlelit table will do.”

And so they light a scented candle on the dining room table and drink incredibly boozy margaritas and eventually eat Del Tacos takeout that arrives half-an-hour late because the DoorDash driver couldn’t find the beach house. And Frankie laughs about Grace tearing the poor delivery kid a new one. And Grace quietly admires that Frankie still gives the twerp a twenty dollar tip anyway.

“At least he’s got a stronger constitution than Bugs Bunny,” Frankie snorts as she closes the door on yet another shell shocked human being who has encountered the wrath of Grace Hanson.

“That isn’t an impressively tall bar to surmount,” Grace replies, wrapping a fond arm around Frankie’s shoulders.

They talk, they eat, and then they talk some more when all that’s left at the bottom of the brown paper bag are tortilla chip crumbs. They talk a little bit about everything, really—the surprisingly pleasant weather these past few days, Bud’s apparent penis problem, Robert being useless at the dishes, and how delicious Del Tacos is. 

And between them, talking about everything is certainly not the same as talking about nothing.

Because even if they’re only talking about the weather or the dishes or the abysmal states of their children’s genitalia, it’s because they enjoy each other’s company enough to implicitly understand that it’s nice to just sit together at the end of a long, hard day and hear each other’s voices.

Because the little things are nice sometimes.

The day-to-day minutiae and routine of living with another person.

Sharing space with them.

Being present.

Being kind.

And in experiencing another’s unadulterated kindness, becoming whole.

When Grace gets salsa on the corner of her pink mouth, Frankie reaches over and thumbs it off with a kind of casual intimacy that was hard won between them, fought for and so lovingly, so painstakingly earned. 

They love each other.

They’ve surpassed the point where they constantly have to say it aloud.

I love you, Frankie says when she takes extra care to clean the dishes just the way that Grace prefers—something Robert Hanson never quite learned after forty goddamn years of marriage.

And I love you, Grace replies when she unthinkingly puts Frankie’s phone on charge because she realizes it’s on four percent, and her friend can’t fall asleep until she’s listened to meditative whale noises on YouTube for an hour.

And I love you, Frankie doesn’t say when she extends her palm to Grace and tells her that they should stargaze tonight because “Saturn’s vibin’ in the sky.”

And I love you, Grace replies when she threads their fingers together so snugly that their rings clink and replies—without sarcasm, without judgment, without weight, “Sure.”

And I love you, they tell each other as they slowly stagger their way out onto the deck, Grace assuming the right cushion and Frankie taking the left, arm in arm until the very last moment when it makes more sense for them to let go, to find their own equilibrium as the sea breeze sweeps gentle fingers through their hair.

The sky is star-freckled tonight, blushing purple and inky blue.

In the natural silence that follows, however, the moon and the stars and the supposedly vibin’ planets don’t particularly captivate Grace’s attention for very long, so she finds herself staring at Frankie, who’s staring off into space, her tall features bathed in amber porch light.

Something has shifted in her expression in the few elapsed moments since they’ve been outside, her thin brow furrowed, a frown threatening to tug at her lips where there had once been an easy smile. Her slender hands are clasped below her chin in a gesture that Grace has come to associate with introspective thoughtfulness, tinged with a kind of subtle melancholy that Frankie has always maintained that she detests and tries to consciously avoid. 

“Frankie… are you—?

“We only fought for two hours this time,” Frankie interrupts softly, nodding towards the outdoor dining table where the Hanson-Bergsteins had yet another disastrous brunch together. (At least no one broke a bone or got hit with a wiffle bat this time.) “Ha, that’s a new record if I’ve ever heard of one!"

But the joke doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and Grace’s heart sinks somewhere beneath her ribcage. It throbs in her uncomfortably full stomach. She had naively assumed that three margaritas in a piece, the two of them could just skip the part where they rehash the day’s events and openly reflect upon them—but she should have known.

These emotional reckonings are Frankie’s chosen form of healing.

She’s always processed better aloud.

“Fighting with you is the most uninspired pastime I can think of doing these days,” Grace tells her truthfully. “I’d rather resolve our conflicts in five minutes than five hours, so we can catch Jeopardy! together without sitting on the couch in passive aggressive silence… I think we’ve reached a point in our friendship where we can do that… yeah?”

The question comes out a little more vulnerably than she would have liked.

Open-ended and hesitant, it requests an equally honest answer.

And while she knows that Frankie has no qualms about being emotionally honest, Grace also innately understands that she has chronically shied away from honesty about all matters pertaining to herself. 

(When she initially told Nick that she wanted to redefine their relationship, she couldn’t have even told herself what the hell she meant either. She supposes she wants to have her cake and eat it, too—to be in a relationship with Nick and go home to Frankie. But maybe that means she doesn’t really love Nick, that she’s just using him for the ample entertainment he provides: the romance, the easy companionship, the sex. And maybe, at the heart of that unsettling hypothesis, she’s just as much of a stone cold bitch as everyone around her seems to think. Her husband is in jail, and she doesn’t lose any sleep about it. In fact, in her queen-sized bed in the beach house she shares with Frankie, she’s slept better than she has in all the many elapsed and miserable weeks since she said, “I do.”)

“Of course!” Frankie exclaims, her brows arching in surprise. “You say tom-ay-to, I say tom-ah-to, and then we kiss and passionately makeup. That’s exactly where we are nowadays.”

“Then why do you still look like a kicked puppy?” Grace asks shrewdly, folding her arms across her chest. “Or like Sol after his supposedly well-trained dog shit in his Birkenstocks.”

“Does being marginally tipsy on tequila count as an acceptable answer?”

“Nope.”

“Fine then and damn,” Frankie sighs, waving a defeated hand around the empty air. “But don’t hold it to me if I’m not making sense, Grace. I’m thinking rabbit trails tonight. And not, like, rabbit trails of criminally-tampered-with poop, but circles and other weird thoughts that don’t seem to be heading anywhere.”

“Hey, I'm not going anywhere—I’ve got all the time in the world to listen,” Grace replies easily, and this is love, too, without ever uttering the word.

Twenty years ago, she did everything short of making up a holiday to not spend a single moment alone in a room with Frankie Bergstein.

And now, she's done everything short of divorcing her husband to ensure that they're never apart.

Frankie's eyes briefly widen in pleasant surprise at this seemingly unexpected gesture, her parenthetically enclosed mouth curving into a gentle smile—tender and sweet.

Lord, she’s beautiful, Grace thinks to herself as Frankie mulls on her next words.

She thinks this at least twice a day and chalks it up to passive jealousy that someone can look so radiant without ever really trying, by just simply being herself.

“Mm, okay... so I was just thinking about how my thing might actually be worse than yours… and you killed my son’s beloved rabbit,” Frankie says bluntly.

And so clearly!

Like she already fully believes it.

Grace blinks rapidly, not entirely computing what she just heard.

“How the hell did you come up with that conclusion?” She asks, nonplussed. “Like you said, I killed your kid’s rabbit and lied about it for some twenty-odd years. You and Sol just played an elaborate game of hooky.”

Frankie looks torn on whether to laugh or shake her head in clear exasperation of Grace not getting it.

“But the ethical jury in the sky isn’t in on me creating a religious holiday just to avoid you,” she protests with a half-smile. “Or even worse, admitting that’s the reason after all these years. I hurt you, Grace, and I don’t wanna hand wave that away just so we can watch Jeopardy! in peace. I want to check in with you and make sure you’re really okay.”

Even after many years of slowly but surely becoming acquainted with Frankie’s uncanny sensitivity to her emotions, somehow, it’s always still a pure shock when Grace is met with the unadulterated and unconditional extent anyway. She’s still unlearning Robert’s idea of emotional care, which largely involved having a stockpile of generic gifts to placate her various moods and whims.

And frankly, she’s not the most empathetic woman of the year herself.

I hurt you, Frankie said candidly and made no attempt to defend herself, to excuse her actions.

I hurt you, she declared, and it was an I love you at the exact same time.

Grace can hardly swallow, her throat a hundred emotions thick. 

“Hey now,” she eventually rasps, “don’t go all revisionist on me now. I was so fucking mean to you. We don’t play wiffle ball anymore at waffle-and-wiffle brunches because I hit you with a bat.”

“You told me there was a bee in my hair,” Frankie rubs the back of her head wistfully. 

“There totally was,” she grins painfully, “but the bat was a highly unnecessary measure.”

“Grace!” Frankie groans. “Don’t get me sidetracked. I’m trying to be real with you here—I wasn’t a saint by any stretch of the imagination! I could be shitty to you, too.”

But Grace firmly shakes her head at this, her mouth pressed into a thin line, her rebuttal already locked, loaded, and innately known to be true.

“Not as often as I was to you, and rarely did you instigate because I’d already started it,” she insists, venom in her voice, raw and undeniable self-loathing. “If I’d been you dealing with me… God, maybe I’d have needed to make up a holiday, too…”

And even as she says it, the uneasiness in her stomach suddenly solidifies into sharp clarity and even crueler pain as she realizes what’s really been bothering her these past few days—a burgeoning feeling that she’s every bit as “harsh” and “vindictive” as Robert told the FBI lady she could be, even though she’s sworn she’s changed, even though she's wanted to be better.

God knows she's tried to be.

Because of Frankie.

Or maybe even for her.

The two reasons are interchangeable in her mind.

“I… I wasn’t like you, Frankie,” she eventually continues, glancing away so she doesn’t have to face the other’s expression—fearing confirmation of all her awful feelings, monstrously craving pity she’s sure she doesn't deserves. “Hell, I’m still not like you. The fact that my ideal marriage includes my husband being in jail more or less proves that.”

Grace Hanson doesn’t tip confused delivery boys thirty-percent after botched deliveries.

She doesn’t make up fantastical stories about magically disappearing bunnies for her kids so they believe in themselves.

She rarely apologizes for her mistakes.

And she makes a hell of a lot of mistakes.

“Robert called me harsh and often vindictive,” she chuckles humorlessly. “Well, I guess he’s got my number almost better than anyone.”

The ensuing silence following this proclamation stretches long and thin, like a tightrope strung precariously taut, and Grace is about to cave in to the temptation of looking at Frankie again when all of a sudden—

“Bullshit!” Frankie exclaims ferociously. “That’s a whole lot of bullshit, Grace Hanson.”

“Frankie, don’t defend—“

But she quickly reaches over and tightly curls her palm over Grace’s spiny knuckles, demanding her attention and getting it.

In so many years and throughout the span of them, she has been the only one to ever truly earn it.

Grace turns her head and finds Frankie’s oceanic eyes inches away from her face, storm-like in their intensity, piercing all over.

“Robert doesn’t get to use the present tense with you because he doesn’t live with you anymore,” Frankie insists when she knows she has Grace, when Grace can no more look away than a rabbit can actually disappear in a hat. “He doesn’t get to see you the way I do. And let's be honest here, I'm not sure he ever really has."

“And how do you see me?” Grace can barely breathe, only dimly aware that this is yet another needy question, one that can only engender a frighteningly vulnerable response.

Her heartbeat quickens.

She feels the exact striation of Frankie’s finger that is resting on the quarter of a million dollar wedding ring Nick bought for her in Vegas.

In the semi-lit darkness, Frankie’s sharply hewn cheeks feather themselves sunset pink. 

Grace blindly assumes it’s the humidity.

“As someone worth discovering,” she murmurs, “and by discovering, understanding that you’re a pretty darn amazing person to love beneath all those expertly erected walls.”

Frankie leans forward then and presses a chaste kiss on Grace’s head, quick and habitual, like she’s done it a hundred times before. Her floral perfume wreathes her like a warm embrace. Beneath the perfume, she smells like acrylic paint and sea breeze and strange but rich incense—complex and earthy and full of so many vibrant notes.

Heat rises to Grace’s face.

This must be the humidity, too.

“Some people don’t get that,” Frankie continues, moving back to her own cushion again, “and that’s their loss. They’ve never had to carve a pretty statue outta stone before, have never had to work on a relationship with you over time.” 

“So what you’re saying is that it takes work to love me, huh?” Grace raises a teasing eyebrow, even though she's not exactly sure that this is the appropriate time and place to make a joke. But the alternative to lightly joking is to internalize the words that Frankie just said, to truly contemplate what it means that there's at least one person in this world who'll wait for her—despite her many walls and damn them.

“It takes work to ever love anybody, really,” Frankie shrugs easily. 

It’s an unsurprisingly sage take—Frankie’s always been good at emotions and relationships and all of the other important and dauntingly human stuff—but it’s also one that gets Grace to thinking about Nick again, about his kindness and his persistence and about his dedication to wanting to make things to work.

She’s beginning to get an inkling of what it might mean that she doesn’t want to meet him halfway, kind and persistent and dedicated though the man might be.

That if she had to choose again between husband and home, there would be no contest.

There would be no hesitation.

So perhaps there are two people in the world who would wait for her, but of those two, Grace knows there's only one whom she would invite to stay.

“Happy Grankiekuh, Frankie,” Grace says, leaning her head against her best friend’s shoulder. “I like discovering you, too.”

“Well, you should! I’m a fucking delight.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Ha, never.”

But in the end, Frankie intertwines their hands together, and the silence of this action is its own unmistakable and resonant reply.

I love you.

Grace Hanson is loved.

[stickyhoney]

Six Months

Summary: Henry had to leave a new relationship behind when he got the call for The Witcher, and gets to finally come home to his girl. Does time and distance really make the heart grow fonder?

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: Smut, Unprotected Sex, Loss of Virginity, fluff throughout

Title: Six Months

Henry had been gone weeks at the time for the past six months. You remember how excited he was when he got the call that he would be Geralt of Rivia. The way his eyes lit up, the way he flashed his toothy grin, even the way his arms nearly squeezed the air out of you. It was so bittersweet. You were happy for him, but both of you knew that the timing was less than perfect for your new relationship. The two of you had now become accustomed to looking at each other through a monitor, texting at the end of your day, and waiting.

The waiting was now over, he was coming back to you. After six months, you would finally be able to hug him. You would no longer have to smell the sweater he left the last time he came over when you had a long day. He would be there to make it all better. Your body had tried holding on to the memory of his frame wrapping around you, consuming every inch of space between you. The memory was now like a fever dream, one that no matter how hard you tried to feel, you just couldn’t.

The twisting of the doorknob broke your train of thought, your body and mind froze. You had worried that things would never be as they were, that the chemistry you shared had disappeared. Then he came through the door, and all the worries that you had were wiped away. Your body was still frozen, it was like your entire being couldn’t really believe that he was right there. 

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna give me a hug?” Your eyes darted up to the source, his lips parting to show his toothy grin. 

Next thing you knew, your arms had wrapped around his broad neck, pulling him down to you. Henry nuzzled his face into the crook of your shoulder. His thick curls tickled your neck, as did his hot breath. His arms wrapped around your entire back, trying to pull you even closer than you were, which sadly was impossible. You could feel his thumbs tracing circles on the small of your back through your sweater, making your body slowly relax against him. 

“I missed you so much Henry.” It was all you could get out, but it was all you needed to say. The tears swelling in your eyes threatened to make you choke on your words, and the last thing you wanted to do was cry. 

“I know [y/n], I am here now.” The vibration of his words against your neck nearly made you go weak in the knees. “I’m here now.” He was nearly whispering. You feel him pulling away, and every inch of your being wants to chase after him, never letting him go. Fighting every urge in your body, you pull your face away enough to get a good look at his. 

His hand leaves your side, and palms the side of your face. The physical training had taken a toll on his hands, rough calluses gently grazed your soft cheek. Henry was looking into your eyes as though he had to memorize the exact color, so that he would never forget it again. The chemistry had definitely not been lost between the two of you, if anything it had been amplified by a thousand. “Distance and time make the heart grow fonder” as they say. 

God the things I want you to do to me right now… 

Henry was very adamant about not pressuring you into anything before he had left, so the farthest you two had gone was some steamy sessions of kissing and groping. This however left you wanting, and six months of wanting does a lot of things to a girl. 

You placed your hands on his waist, slowly slinking them up his hardened stomach and chest. Following every curve of muscle, every dip and valley. Henry was a piece of art, one he had spent so long sculpting. It intimidated you. Thrilled you. Your eyes drifted down to follow the path of your hands, watching every miniscule movement. 

Shit [y/n], don’t get too wound up. He might not be ready.

One look up into those blue eyes, and you were startled by the fire behind them. His hand pulled your face to his, pushing his lips firmly against yours. 

Oh thank God, I didn’t want to calm down.

His tongue pushed through your lips, claiming them again as their own. Henry always knew how to kiss you, but this was another kind. He had never kissed you with such a fever. The firm pressure against your lips, pulled a deep moan from you. A moan that only desperation can create. That was the signal Henry needed that you felt how he felt, needed what he needed.

His hands grabbed the bottom of your ass, lifting you up scarily easily. You were by no means a small girl, you like your tacos just like anyone else, and he lifted you like you were a pillow. Your legs wrapped around his waist, hands tugging on his curls, trying to elicit a moan from him as well. 

Let me know you want me like I want you.

Henry began walking the both of you to your bedroom, coming up for air every few seconds to make sure he didn’t walk you both into a wall. Your lips slowly move down to his jawline, leaving light kisses on the way. 

Before you can get to his sweet spot, Henry lowers you onto the bed. He pulls away and hovers above you. Both of your chests are rising and falling, trying to calm your breathing. 

“[Y/n], I need to know that you want this.” His voice was hoarse, it sounded as if he was choking on his desire. “I know this is a big step… and I also know this is your first time. The thing is… I love you so fucking much that it scares me.” You had never had a smile so big on your face, it was practically hurting your cheeks. 

He just said that he loves me. I love him too. I am in love.

“I love you too.” Your hand caresses the side of his face, along his angular jawline. “I want this. I want you. I want all of it.” Your arms wrapped around his chest pulling him back down onto you, pulling him until his chest grazes against yours. Henry keeps eye contact, seemingly a bit shocked at the exchange the two of you just had. You giggled to break the silence, breaking him out of his stillness. Slowly, you lifted your head up to meet him,kissing him softly. Hopefully reassuring him that you meant what you had said.

Dear heaven above if this man doesn’t put his hands on me, I might just burst into flames. I can’t wait anymore.

He firmly pushes you back down into the mattress, his body so achingly close to you without touching. His lips make a trail from your lips down to your collarbone, taking his sweet time. His teeth grab at your gentle skin between the kisses. You spread your legs, allowing him closer access to you. Wrapping your legs around his pelvis, pulling him even closer. The friction makes both of you lose your balance, it was the best thing you had felt in months. Six months to be exact. 

Please do that again.

Nothing could ever make you feel as good as Henry does. Nothing could be the same. You had definitely tried on those lonely nights while he was gone, but he leaves an unfillable gap wherever he goes. 

He finally gives you what you’ve been craving. He pushes against your center, against your whole body really. 

There you go baby. 

Your fingers loop under his shirt pulling up on seam, desperate for everything between you to be gone. He gets the message and lifts off of you, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it on the floor. 

What have I done in a past life to deserve this man?

He keeps his eyes on yours as he begins to unbuckle his belt. “Let me get that for you hen.” You sit up right, and reach for his belt until he grabs both of your hands to stop you. “First…” Tingles shoot up your spine when his rough hands touch your waist under your shirt. He trails his hands up your silhouette, dragging your shirt up with them. He makes a pit stop at your bra, expertly unhooking it.  He tosses them both beside his shirt. Out of instinct, your arms wrap around your body. Attempting to conceal every inch possible. 

“Why are you covering up?” His voice boomed over the intense silence of the room. “I-” You felt stupid for being self-conscious, but it was a struggle for you. “[Y/n], you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Don’t ever cover up for me. You got that?” His eyes bored into yours, his jaw clenched tight.  He had never been so bossy with you before, and it made your skin burn with desire.  

Your response was letting go of yourself, and instead grabbing for his belt buckle again. Henry climbs closer to you, so he is practically breathing the same breath. His course fingers, pull your hair behind your head giving him access to your neck. His lips press against you so lightly, it makes you suck a breath in. 

Henry’s boxers were strained against his member. You had caught a glimpse of Henry once while changing in your room, but you were not at all prepared for how large he is.

Can I do this? That is going to hurt.

Henry yanks your leggings off, catching you off guard. You yelp as he pushes you back down into the mattress, pinning your hands above your head. 

“Don’t move sweetheart.” His tone was kind but firm. 

What is he doing? Oh.

Your eyes screwed shut, focusing on the feeling of Henry’s lips against your bare body for the first time. He takes his time kneading your breasts with his large hands while trailing kisses down your stomach. Every nerve in your body was on high alert from the barrage that was Henry Cavill. Your hips bucked up at the sudden contact from Henry’s tongue.

“Sweetheart, I told you not to move.” He sucked on your clit, while his fingers slowly entered you. “Awe baby, look how wet you are for me.” You were already starting to see stars, and he had barely even begun. The comforter wrinkled up around your tight fists, your silly attempt to prolong yourself. Henry was slowly working you with his fingers, hitting a spot in you that made you feel lightheaded with pleasure. His tongue pressing firm against your clit, drawing circles.

“Hen-... I-I can’t” You couldn’t even get the words out, you were holding on with every fiber of your being. 

“Let go baby.” He continued his attack and looked up into your eyes, and that was it. Your body clenched up around his fingers, your hands had made their way to his curls to stop him. You threw your head back against the pillows, trying to calm your breathing and heaving chest. Your entire body had been lit aflame. 

Holy fucking shit.

“Are you ready sweetheart?” He climbed on top of you, waiting patiently. You couldn’t muster up the words, so you shook your head violently. Looping around the loop of his boxers, your hands drug his boxers down over his cock down to his knees. Henry helped you out and kicked them off the bed onto the floor. 

“I’ll take it slow baby. I’ll make you feel good, okay?” “Okay.”

You spread your legs apart once again, allowing him to position himself better. He moves his tip around your entrance, coating himself in your cum. Henry leans down against you, embracing you in a deep kiss, catching your moans as he enters you. He moans against your lips too, slowly sinking all the way into you. He stills against you for a moment. “Are you okay? Can I move?” Nodding along, you feel the sting of your body trying to adjust to Henry. His hips slowly move away, and back again. The feeling is exquisite, the sharp sting slowly subsiding with every thrust. 

“More Henry.” You were surprised at your words, your body taking control over your mind. Henry digs his hands into your hips, his head buried into your shoulder. Responding to your plea, you see the stars return when he grinds his pelvis against your clit. Roughly pushing into you at a quick pace, so deep and quick that you feel his balls hit against you. The room was no longer silent, but filled with each other's moans. “Look at me honey.” Henry pulls his face from your shoulder to look at you. Those ocean blue eyes were gone. All that was left, was the darkness of his pupils and lust. “I love you so much Hen.” He smiles, even though he was obviously straining to breathe. “I love you too [y/n].” With that, he gives you everything he has. 

Henry knows you are close when your walls start to grip onto him, causing him to slowly lose himself. Your hands grab his curly hair, tugging and massaging. Looking into each other’s eyes, you lose yourselves. The feeling of Henry filling you after his release, is one of the best ones you imagine is possible. The sheets beneath you stained with the faintly red evidence of your lost innocence.

You pull Henry down against you. His large frame puts enormous pressure on you, making you giggle. He begins to roll over, but your hands stop him. “Please don’t move.” Henry wraps his arms around you like one of those huge teddy bears you see on Valentine's day. “Okay.” Moments later, you hear faint hums from Henry signaling that he has fallen asleep. 

You simply smile, and fall asleep under your huge teddy bear.

[mabelpodcast]

Hagging out: jamaica tea eggs with Becca

(For those of you who do not know: Hagging Out is the brainchild of @graveyarddirt, and is a food/witchcraft/creation event where participants over thirty years old build something to a theme: a recipe, a meal, a spell, a rite.)

The theme of this month's Hagging Out was tea. If you do not want to see pictures of the beautiful and divinitory jamaica tea eggs I made on the full moon, please do not ~

Jamaica (also known as hibiscus) is a popular ingredient in Mexico, most often used to make an agua fresca: sweet and tart and bloody pink-red, it is delicious, and vivid, and absurdly high in vitamin C. Served with ice, jamaica agua fresca is the most refreshing thing you have ever tasted. Jamaica is magic: a flower with a story to tell.

Here is how to make jamaica tea eggs. First: throw many handfuls of dried red flowers into your wife's green enamel pot. They will smell like rosehips, like tart berries, and a little bit like rain.

Add to the flowers some crushed garlic, several bay leaves, some peeled and sliced ginger, a few constellations of star anise. No need to measure; you will know when it's right.

Haphazardly tip a likely amount of organic black tea into the tiny mug with a small corvid friend painted on it.

Scatter the tea onto the flowers and the aromatics. Add just the right amount of boiling water to your wife's enamel pot. The concoction will look like a swamp, like the very first swamp; it will smell like heaven.

Put the lid on the enamel pot and let the tea steep while you go out into the garden. Can't you hear the birds sing? Forget about the tea entirely; pick flowers and follow bumblebees from daisy to daisy. If you are kind and gentle, they will let you pet their soft bellies. If you are neither, they will not. Remember your tea, and go inside again, strain it out. Without the black tea, what you're left with would have been perfect to make jamaica tacos: the flowers, soaked and then cooked in spices, take the place of taco meat. Only to be eaten with the freshest of corn tortillas, the kind of tortillas that smell like your abuelita.

Fetch the eggs from the little duck who guards them. Thank her for doing her duty well.

Boil the eggs however you do such things. When the eggs are hard-boiled, roll them along your counter to smash their shells. Tell them, as you do, who you are: make sure they know your name.

Set the eggs to steep in the cold tea. Leave them in the fridge, to ruminate, for many hours. Six, or eight, or overnight. You will try to capture the red-black beauty of them, and you will fail, but that's all right. You have other important things to do.

Prepare for the ritual. You know the one.

The full moon is an egg, too. Something ever hatching. When dark falls, when you have greeted her, her attendant darkness, the spider drowsing on the window, the moth who flew too close to the spider's web, the fire, the falling petals, the milk-light over the horizon -

- afterwards, your eggs will be black. So will the tea. They will look like bobbing sea-stones. Peel them to transcribe the futures their cobwebbed and marbled black veins tell.

Eat them with the moon gazing over your shoulder.