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husky-twst-and-obeyme · 3 years ago

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Dorm Loaders react to you having a pop it but for fidget reasons

I KNOW IM CRINGE IM SORRY - but pops help calm me down - so i thought it'd be cute for a scenario too

This version is when you are dating the dorm leaders as well as the reader is gender neutral

Riddle

Riddle was aware of the trend, he gets why but he's slightly annoyed by it

he was meeting up with you for a study date , before he approached you , he noticed your pop it

funny enough it was a strawberry one

"hah...you're into this too?" Riddle asked in a firm but slightly annoyed tone

"yeah? why ?? " you were constantly popping the bubbles

"hm? are you ok?"

"oh yeah! don't worry riddle , this is just calming me down! or keeping me calm at least- It's a fidget toy after all "

He kinda just stood there in silence, he completely forgot that's what the main purpose was

but this really opened his eyes on how anxious or fidgety you can get

"Very well, just don't make too much noise with it . "

"Aw i thought you were like the strawberry one "

He blushed a bit but quickly composed himself "Im glad you were thinking of me but- wait how many of those do you have ?"

"...." you just smiled

" y/n how many do you have - "

"............i may have over 30 - "

"WHAT-"

Leona

He's not too fond of the trend but he doesn't care either

He goes to the spot you agreed to meet up at for him to nap on you

then he sees you with a pop it

ugh...am i even gonna nap..." he begrudgingly walks over

"hey leona!" *pop*

"Please tell me you're not gonna use that damn thing while i nap .."

You looked at him but looked down 'Sorry..I'm just a bit anxious today."

His ears went down , he didn't get it , why does it evolve the pop a thingy ma bop "what does that have to do wit this..?"

"That's the original use- a pop it helps with stress and anxiety but it can help you focus too! "

He stood silent which lowkey made you more anxious

then he spoke "fine, as long as it isn't too loud, i don't care " he lays on your lap and sets himself in place

"oh ok! I think number 25th is the quietest one i have "

"*yawn* yeah ok ..."

"......you have number f**king what now..?? "

Azul

He is aware of the pop it's and actually uses it to his advantage

He actually sells them as a small bonus for certain meals

It actually is quite popular and he makes more money from it

One day , he noticed you having on but it was more unique then what he sold

"oya oya , you seem to be in this trend like the other , little pearl "

"oh yeah , i already had one before you sold them "

He seemed interested , he actually never looked into the pop its much but really used it for profit

"If you don't mind , what is the purpose of these?"

"well why everyone else usually gets them is either because of it trending , it's satisfying or just to show off but my reason is completely different

As you spoke that , he noticed how figdety your hands were getting and you were constantly popping the bubbles

"..does it relax you ? "

"Yeah and it can distract me too, it really helps !" you looked giddy

he blushed a bit, your smile was the sweetest thing to him, in fact it makes his day

"w-well..if you want , i could get you more"

you perked up " oh sweet ! even though i have like over 30 "

"that's great little pearl I'll-....30!? "

Kalim

He has his own- you can't convince me otherwise and it annoys the hell out of jamil XD

You had like over 100 because he's extra of course , one for a different occasion

When you came over for a private date in the lounge, he took notice of your pop it , it was a ring looking one

"y/n...are you proposing to me!? " he was obviously joking but he did lowkey want to marry you

"pff very cute. i just have a lot on my mind. " you popped it a little faster

that kinda threw him off guard, he thought of it as a play thing , so he was a little confused, just a smidge

"It's a nice little fidget toy..." then it clicked for him , he didn't think it was a fidget toy- now he does

"Ah i see y/n ! I'm glad it keeps you calm "

You both continue your date and you both actually played with your pop its during then

THen kalim spoke " how many do you have ?" "ah...over 30 i think?"

"ah.." Kalim looked blankly

"..t-too much?.." you seemed worried

"To much ..? " he then suddenly beamed " you mean too little! Come on I'll get you some more!! "

"HUH-"

Vil

He knows too well of this trend, he even got offered to do commercials for pop its

He was actually really annoyed by it. plus the poping gets old to him

He one day noticed you with one ,but he's not surprised

Even if he's annoyed by it , he can understand the popularity and satisfaction of it

"Ah , sweet potato..You're into this trend ?"

"Well.. I was in it before it was a trend. It just helps my fidget"

Ah. He knew you were a fidgety and anxious person but it went over his mind of the pop it being more of a fidget then a toy

still won't change his mind of how annoying they are

"i don't care if you use it but please refrain from making too much noise with it "

"hmm..I'll try but i like the sounds. " you pouted a little

He covers his face with his hand and sighs "Fine. but only for a small bit because it honestly pains me to constantly hear popping. "

"calm down , this is one of the quiest ones i own!" you smiled

"...How many do you have?"

"....mayhaps over 30"

"....."

"...."

"sweetie. My little darling. my sweet potato. you have a problem"

Idia

Of course he's in the trend and has his own , fite me

Idia kept it more lowkey then others but he really enjoys pops it and even got ortho some

SO he was happy that you had some of your own too

" ehhh! y-you have 30 !? " Idia spoke after he questioned how many you had

"it's not that bad. They're all different at least. Look at this kitty one!"

He looked in awe of the kitty pop it and held it "They have ones like this?? I thought it was just normal shapes?? "

After explaining all different shapes and varieties , Idia got excited

It was a nice time too, you both looked online to see some that you didn't have , some were cute while some were interesting

But something caught Idia's eye. "eh? what's this "

It was a pop it game board, it was just two pop its connected to a rubber board on each side

"how do you play?" he questioned

"i'm guessing you use the dice to pop the bubbles , and everytime you pop it fully you get a point? " As you point to the area that has 3 bubbles to show points

Idia was silent. Then the mouse slowly went to "add to cart "

"you're getting that for the board game club, aren't you ? "

"yep :) "

Malleus

Probably has the purest / most confused reaction

He often keeps hearing of these ..."pop its"??

He sees others with them , coming in different shapes in sizes. he almost mistakes it as like a pet

The only person he would talk to more about it, is none other than his beloved

"Dearest. could you explain to me what are these things? they're quite confusing..." HE said as he examined one of yours

"Well...you know that feeling of being anxious or highly stressed? These things can distract or calm you down, try poping some of it and see!"

He did as he was told and oddly...he enjoyed it ??

malleus kept popping it for a few minutes without saying a word, like he was in a trance

"M-malleus ?? you ok ? "

"eh? ah. i'm sorry , i got distracted. "

you giggled because he was acting so cute, especially now possibly being invested

"I'll try and get you a dragon one !"

and you could of swore that a dragon tail suddenly and he wagged it

#twst disney #twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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A Helping Hand - Bucky Barnes x Reader (f)

(Gif: @sebastianruinedme )

Summary: After a stressful week, you try to wind down with some personal time but nothing quite hits that spot. And a certain Super Soldier may just be more than willing to help you.

Warnings: 18+ Smut - Masturbation/toys, Oral (f receiving), fingering, neck play, arm/hand kink, dirty talk, a faint Dom theme if you squint, swearing – honestly, Bucky should just be a kink in himself.

Word count: 5k+ words full of hot playtime.

A/N: This is just filth, to be honest. I was feeling a certain way after watching episode 3 of TFATWS and seeing that scene with Bucky cleaning his hand and… ideas happened, and this was born. There’s not really a plot… simply enjoy.

Smut under the cut!!

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal

Part 2

There was something to be said about the advancement of toys in recent years.

There were hundreds of them. All different types. For all different things.

Rabbits, waterproof vibrators, pulsating and pounding ones, ones that felt like oral, handsfree vibrators, remote control vibrators – the list went on.

You had a lot. Tucked in a drawer of your dresser in a pretty box that just made you go all tingly in the knees every time you saw it.

You were proud of your collection.

And boy, did you love them.

They never let you down, ever.

But unfortunately, tonight was just not one of those nights.

It has been a tough week.

Not only had you taken a beating in training yesterday, but you were also late for an appointment across the city, which resulted in being yelled at by Fury.

You really regretted decided to help him when he needed it.

There wasn’t a lot going on lately, so you offered to help Fury when he needed it.

Usually, you were on his food side.

Yesterday, not so much.

Everything seemed out to get you, and after the shit show of the week, you just wanted to treat yourself. So, you’d holed yourself up in your room on your floor of the compound, had a long, luxurious soak in the bath, and then decided to work out your anxiety and tension with one of your many, many friends.

And for the first time in a while, they just weren’t hitting that spot.

Literally.

You groaned, throwing the third toy - this one a rabbit that was one of your most trusty companions - on the side of your bed.

For the last forty minutes, you’d been dancing between three different toys and your fingers.

You’d tried being on your belly, your side, and your back. You’d even tried a pillow.

But nothing was the right pressure on your clit, no toy or finger felt deep enough inside, and you couldn’t hit that spot inside without getting a wicked cramp in your wrist that forced you to stop.

You sat up, every nerve in your body wound to a knife edge, leaving you frustrated and tempted to throttle someone.

Or get someone to throttle you.

Preferably whilst pinning you to a wall... or a desk.

Or anywhere really.

You just needed something, anything to get out this frustration and give you the release you’d been desperately chasing all night.

It wasn’t even a case of hovering on the edge - you couldn’t even get there. The fire and heat just stayed a kindling ember in your belly, and never reaching that explosive fire.

After getting up and downing a measure of whiskey whilst watching the rain, you decided to try a last-ditch attempt with a different toy.

This one was a curved vibrator, with a thicker rounder head for supposedly perfect pressure on your g-spot.

Simple, straight forward.

Surely, if none of the others had done it, this one finally would.

After settling back on your bed, you took a little more care this time, even going as far to light a few candles to add an ambiance to the room rather than have it pitch black with the sounds of the rain.

You worked yourself up this time, building it slowly, teasing yourself with brushes of your fingertips over your throat and breasts, setting your skin ablaze.

You pushed yourself to the edge a little, and then worked over with your vibrator.

Until ten minutes later, when you literally launched the vibrator across the room and it hit the wall with a resounding thud, that echoed your hiss of frustration. “Fucking hell.”

A shit week, a shit day, and you couldn’t even fuck yourself well enough to be able to wind down and get some sleep.

There was a sudden knock and then Bucky’s voice echoed through your bedroom door. “Darlin’?” There was a slight hint of his Brooklyn accent peeping through at the end, stirring something within you.

You startled, sitting bolt upright and your head snapped to the door, “Bucky?” You had the good sense to lock the door, but still. He was right there.

His shadow moved beneath the door, and you realised he was leaning against it, “Is everything alright? I heard banging.”

Well, no not really. I’ve been trying to get myself off for the last hour and nothing appears to be working and I’m sitting here naked whilst you’re the other side of my door calling me Darling in that ridiculously hot accent that shouldn’t even be that hot. But hey, apart from that, everything’s great.

You slid off the bed, padding across the room after dropping your toys back in their drawer, glaring at it as you passed. You slipped a robe on before making your way across the fluffy rug to the door, “Yeah, I’m okay...” You unlocked the door, tugging it open.

Bucky was leaning against the doorframe, all broad shoulders, long lines and soft smile.

His searing blue eyes were instantly locked onto you, a smirk playing on those gorgeous lips.

He cocked his head, standing there with his arms crossed, and you noticed that for once, he wasn’t wearing any gloves. Just a simple long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans that hung sinfully close to his hips and... no boots. Just socks.

Like he’d taken his shoes off before waking into your apartment.

Ever the gentleman.

His arm was bare, the soft light of the hall bouncing off of the black vibranium and sparking the gold. You’d always loved his arm. The sheer power of it, the way you’d seen it shatter a man’s ribs instantly and tear through a brick wall like it was made of glass. The same hand that tickled behind the ears of a stray kitten in Prospect Park and test the ripeness of plums at the market.

You wanted that hand around your throat.

Eyes the colour of the Arctic sea roamed over your body, from your slightly mussed up hair to the flush along your neck that disappeared in the dip of your dressing gown. “Mm... are you sure about that?” He tilted his coyly, a smirk playing on his lips and you had a feeling this expression had been one of the trademarks since the 40’s.

You narrowed your eyes at him, more than aware that he was seeing far more than you wanted him to, “I’m fine.” You turned from the door, leaving it open for him to come in, “How comes you’re up on my floor, anyway?” You peered over your shoulder at him as you padded across the room to the drinks cart.

Yes, there was a bar on your floor, but why couldn’t you have a cart in your room? Tony hadn’t even needed to ask when designing it.

Bucky walked in, his footfalls silent like a cat, that training never quite leaving him, “I couldn’t sleep. No nightmares, just restless.” He added the last part quickly, in response to the concern that tightened your expression.

It was nothing unusual, Bucky coming up here to your room.

You often found each other after nightmares or rough days, seeking comfort and distraction from the darkness that lingered.

Some days and nights, you went out, needing an outside diversion from the thoughts.

Other times, you stayed in, watching films, talking, training or just... sitting quietly, knowing that the other persons presence was enough protection and reassurance. Words weren’t needed… just company.

You handed him a drink, plopping down on the end of your bed and you watched him sink into the couch opposite, “Anything you wanna talk about?”

Since everything with the War, Bucky was working on fitting back into a routine, into ‘normal’ life - or what could be considered normal for people like yourselves.

He was undergoing his mandatory therapy sessions, and they seemed to be helping him.

He was back in contact with Sam, and the pair even worked a few jobs together now and then, even if they did bicker like an old married couple - it provided great entertainment when you tagged along.

He leant back on the couch, settling his left arm across the back. He always looked at home on your floor, relaxed, like his mind could shut off a little. “Nah, I’m okay... Thank you though.” He shot you an easy smile again, one that he probably hadn’t used in.... decades. “What about you? Why are you up so late?”

Mimicking his shrug, you kept your expression neutral, making sure your eyes didn’t drift to that certain drawer, “Rough week. I was reading to try and drift off.”

“Mmmhm...” Bucky’s hummed response told you instantly that he did not believe you one bit. “What were you reading? Cosmopolitan’s best guide to toys?” That shit eating grin graced his face and he motioned gracefully with his left hand... to the corner of the room.

The vibrator you’d launched was sitting on the floor, nestled in the rug, the soft mint green silicone practically a beacon.

Okay.

Okay…. So. There were two ways you could respond to this.

Either play it off, deny it and change the subject.

Or…

Turning back to him, you shrugged again, “Oh, I’ve read that back to front. And made a few additions myself.” You cocked your head, a faint flutter in your belly as you awaited his response.

The barest flicker of surprise danced across his beautiful, rugged features before dissolving into something confident and smouldering. “Well, it looks to me like their guide isn’t true to review tonight. Something tells me you’re having a little bit of trouble.” His voice had begun to lower into a deeper, the natural roughness of his voice coming out.

It stoked that fire within you, warming your blood and curling low in your belly.

“And if I was? What would you suggest to help?” It was almost impossible to remain sitting still as the atmosphere folded and changed. There was one obvious route to your back and forth… and you wanted it.

Wanted… him.

And if you were honest, you had for a long time now. There was just something about him that you’d always been drawn to, a simmering tension that settled whenever you were together.

Bucky rose from the sofa in a fluid movement, walking toward you slowly, casually, but with the grace and prowl of a wolf eyeing up its next meal – you.

And fuck, you wanted him to devour you.

He slid his hands into his pockets, feet silent on your wooden floor, “Well… I would say that as wonderful as your toys may be… they’re just that. Toys. They can’t… feel what you like.” His eyes burned through you with each of his steps. “They don’t hear the noises you make when they hit the right spot. They don’t get to see the way your body reacts, the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip because it feels overwhelmingly good.”

He was close enough for you to smell his cologne, and that only added to the growing wetness between your thighs as his filthy, beautiful words.

Bucky stopped in front of you, removing his left hand and touching his fingers to your chin to tilt it up to face him, “They can’t know the little things… the deeper angle, that extra finger or sweep of the tongue… they can’t make you so wet that it runs down your thighs and they can’t make you arch off the bed as you shatter into starlight…” He sighed softly, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “I’m afraid they just… can’t make you come the way a real person could.” He applied a little pressure to the underside of your chin, and you rose to your – unsteady - feet instantly, putty in his hands.

Holy fuck, Bucky Barnes had a mouth on him.

Your teeth had indeed sunk into your lower lip, and your breathing had grown shallow. It was an effort to keep your thighs firmly locked together… Because you were just as wet as he had said.

The dark flame in his eyes told you that he knew the reaction you were having to him. He brushed a cool thumb over your lip, then tugged it gently to free it from your teeth and at the same time, he leant his head down to your level, “They can’t make you come like I can, darlin’.” This close, his warm lips brushed the shell of your ear, his voice reduced to a husky rasp that only further drew out that Brooklyn accent.

The soft moan that left your lips was almost pitiful, but you didn’t care, “Shit.”

You breathed the word, earning a deep chuckle in your ear before Bucky pulled back, only enough to see your face, “You want me to help you? Give you a helping hand?” His words were low and seductive, but he was looking between your eyes, making no more moves until he knew you wanted this.

If you changed your mind, he would leave right now, and say no more about it.

That very thought pained you.

Something had always hovered between you both… and maybe now was the time to let it out. You shared a few kisses on nights out and he had featured heavily in your fantasies night after night, wishing your fingers were his, the toys were him….

You met his eyes, your own clear and sure and you kept that gaze as you parted your lips. Then swept your tongue along his thumb and tilted your head down just enough to take it between your lips. The vibranium was smooth, cold and it felt oddly delightful on your tongue. “Make me come, Bucky. Prove to me you’re better than the toys.” Your voice was low with need, a soft pleading note for him there as you gazed up through your eyelashes.

The Arctic blue of his eyes deepened to near midnight, his pupils blowing out as he watched you talk around his thumb, your tongue sweeping over the metal and he almost purred, “Oh, baby, you won’t need toys when I’m done.” And then he was on you.

He gently pulled his hand from your face, instead placing it lightly around your neck, the heavy metal settling on your collarbones and that alone drenched you.

He looked between your eyes, checking one final time and then his mouth was lowering onto yours, his lips warm, plush and ever so inviting. Instantly, he licked a teasing line along your lips, which you would have parted for him without the request.

Bucky’s tongue slipped past your lips, sweeping against yours in hot strokes as he explored every corner of your mouth.

He tasted divine, and even more so when his thumb lightly tipped your chin back and he traced the tip of his tongue along the roof of your mouth, licking over the ridges and showing you exactly what that tongue could do.

A groan left your lips, and you slid your hands up his arms to those shoulders, those gorgeous broad shoulders that all you wanted to do was dig your nails into them and use for support as you rode him.

A deep curl of delight and joy was unfurling within the heat in your belly, because you needed this, needed more of him and his hands and his tongue and his words… and you were finally getting it

Hell, he had only just started kissing you and you already could have fallen apart just from that.

“Why have we not been doing this all the time?” Was the only thought that your already fuzzy mind could come up with as he pulled away slowly from your lips, only to begin pressing hot, open kisses against your jaw that were all teeth and tongue. He seared a path to your neck, kissing all over until he found that particular spot that made you whimper and arch into his body.

Bucky laughed low against your neck, the sound vibrating, “Oh, baby, you were struggling, weren’t you? I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already a mess…” He used his hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, before biting at your skin, sweeping his tongue over the hot and sucking a deep mark there.

A slight whine rippled in your throat, fingers pulling as his shirt and your chest pushed against his, the firm heat of him making your nipples tighten, especially when he pushed into you.

Bucky slipped a hand between your bodies, tugging at the cord of your dressing gown and it slipped from your shoulders, leaving you bare and open to him.

He licked down your neck, his tongue smoothing over the shape of your collarbones and then down your sternum to your breasts. He butterfly kissed the soft flesh, then almost delicately sucked at your rleft nipple, lifting his vibranium hand to squeeze the other, “So beautiful…” He mumbled it half to himself, his dark mussed up curls soft against your skin.

One of your hands trailed up the back of his neck, slightly tangling in the hair at the base of his head and you pushed your chest further into his mouth, “Tease.” The word was a soft gasp, your eyes closing in pleasure and your lips parting.

He chuckled, pulling back to blow a cool breath on the wet skin, watching your nipple harden and then he moved to give the other the same treatment, “Oh, I’m a tease, am I? I can stop if you like.” He grinned around the delicate skin, just slightly grazing his teeth as he tugged your nipple and then he continued his trail of kisses down your body, slowly sinking to his knees. “I don’t think you’ll ask me to stop though, darlin’.” His right hand grasped your ankle, and then he ghosted warm fingertips up your leg, past your knee and then pausing at your inner thigh, at what he felt there, “No. No I don’t think you’ll ask me to stop at all.”

The cocky bastard grinned once more against your stomach, before dipping his tongue inside your belly button.

“Bucky…” You couldn’t hide the whimper in your voice, nor the way your hips rocked forward in a plea. It was almost painful how much you needed him to touch you, needed to feel his lips and his tongue.

“Shhh, baby, I know.” His hands slipped up your waist, as soothing as his gentle coo against your belly button and then he brushed his lips lower and lower… and then finally, he pressed a soft butterfly kiss to your pubic bone.

A low groan tore from his throat, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he saw you, swollen and positively dripping for him, “Oh, darlin’, look at you…”

The sheer desire and awe in his low voice caused heat to flush along your cheekbones. You weren’t shy by any means, but the almost primal admiration in his voice was something you’d never heard before, the pure want and desire to make you feel good and worship you.

Bucky admired the sight before him for a single moment, before lifting his eyes to yours and then he dove in, immediately devouring you like he was starving. His deft tongue slipped through your slick folds with ease, and he moaned again at your taste, at your smell, everything.

He pressed his tongue flat against you before sucking at your clit, with such an intensity that you almost choked. It was a simple movement, but it shot electricity through your body and made every single nerve stand on end.

He let that coil of energy begin to build, and then he licked back down, his hands sliding down to palm at your ass cheeks before digging his fingers into your skin, pulling you in further so he could bury his nose against your clit and his tongue – fuck, his tongue pushed inside of you, hot and heavy. It just felt so, so good, his nose putting pressure on your bundle of nerves, his tongue pumping inside you.

Your hands flew down to his hair, winding through it to keep him there, keep him doing that, to keep him fucking you with his tongue, “Buck-”. You weren’t sure what you were begging him for, only that you just needed to say his name, needed to do something.

Your hips began to rock in time with his thrusts, and you became aware of it only when Bucky’s muffled moan reverberating through you.

He liked it, no... he loved this, that you were grinding against his face as his tongue worked inside you, tasting parts of you no one else had ever gotten right before.

“Fuck, Bucky, keep doing that – I’m-” You cut off with a high moan, your head tilting back as you rocked into him faster, chasing down that high that was so tantalisingly close. It hadn’t taken long, you were so worked up from your failed attempts that you were already there.

Bucky’s began to lick and suck you with new fervour, his head moving in time with the jerks of his hips, feeling the way your walls were tightening around his tongue. His fingers dug harder into your ass, and you felt the silent command almost, Come.

And you did.

You cried his name out to the sky, every nerve in your body winding to near painful tautness before you shattered on his face, your first orgasm ripping through you.

Bucky didn’t stop, working you through it and drawing it out further and further as he lapped up every single drop you gave him, moaning himself like it was the most tantalising thing he had ever tasted.

He stopped only when your grip released on his hair, the sensitivity of your nerves almost painful, your legs shaking like crazy and he lifted his hand from between your thighs, his lips and chin glistening. He rose from his knees, nudging you back onto the bed and instantly crawling up your body, “You have no idea how good you taste.”

You whimpered slightly, catching your breath as you watched him crawl up you, eyes burning like sapphire fire, his tongue licking slowly over his lips as he savoured you. Words were beyond you, desire still coursing through your veins and you were a little in awe at how quickly – and hard – he had brought you to your first orgasm.

Bucky grinned devilishly, “That won’t be your last.” He lowered his mouth back to yours and as you tasted yourself on him, you grew instantly wet for him again.

His body brushed into yours and you felt how painfully hard he was through his jeans, the sounds and taste of you getting to him of course.

Your fingers had barely brushed against his restrained length when he shook his head, nipping at your lower lip, “Oh no, baby, this is all about you.”

You ignored him, palming him through his jeans and he moaned lowly before his eyes flashed, his hand suddenly back on your throat and he moved his hips away so you couldn’t get to him. “I said no.” It was almost a snarl, “This is about you. Not me.” His hand tightened just slightly around your throat, making it that little bit harder to breathe and your eyes rolled back at how delicious it felt.

It was a huge kink for you, the idea of someone – of Bucky - taking control, being in control of your body even it was just for a little while. You didn’t need to think or do anything. Only feel and be at the mercy of his touch.

You relented, legs falling open for him and you tilted your head back, searching for his lips.

Bucky granted you the kiss, a slow, languid kiss at first that was all simmering passion and tangling tongues, the taste on you still lingering on his lips.

He palmed your breast again, tugging and squeezing the flesh until he scratched his nails lightly down your ribcage and belly.

Yes, yes-

He wasted no time, no more playing and his fingers slipped lower, circling over your clit with a delicious pressure that had you instantly moaning into his mouth.

He toyed with your clit a little more, before gathering your wetness and then sinking two fingers inside you, pushing all the way into his knuckles, then drawing back out slowly.

As he withdrew, you moaned long and slow into his mouth and he began a steady rhythm. Pushing and curling his fingers inside you a few steps, then circling and pulling at your clit, ever so subtly switching it up with each pass so you couldn’t predict what he would do.

It felt amazing, but… there was something still missing. It still wasn’t quite enough to send you over that final edge… it wasn’t what you’d been fantasising about.

No, it was his left hand. That dark, golden vibranium hand that was currently seated around your throat.

The knowledge of what it could do, the sheer power in it that could easily crush your windpipe or shatter your jaw with a single flick of his wrist.

That is what you needed.

Those cool, powerful fingers inside you, working you over – that was the best toy.

It was like he could read your mind somehow, or the way your body sung to his tune. He lifted his head, looking down at you with those searing blues and he cocked his head, a slow grin lighting his gorgeous face, “Oh… This-” he scissored his fingers inside you, stretching your walls and ever so slightly brushing up against that spot, “isn’t quite what you want, is it, darlin’?”

Holy Christ, he was going to destroy you before you even got what you wanted.

You looked up at him, panting, hips rocking to the slower thrust of his fingers and you shook your head.

Bucky swore softly, panting himself and he squeezed your throat once before lifting his fingers, “You want these, don’t you?”

Instead of answering him, you ducked your head, taking his three fingers into your mouth and immediately gliding your tongue around them, up and down in slow, dirty strokes.

The effect was instantaneous. Bucky’s hips jerked slightly against yours, his mouth parting as he watched you suck his vibranium fingers, hollowing your cheeks, eyes rolling back in your head like… like it was something else entirely.

He groaned, swore again and then almost ripped his fingers from your mouth and from between your legs at the same time.

Your entire body mourned the loss, feeling empty, clenching around nothing but mere seconds later, he plunged those three vibranium fingers inside of you, slick with your saliva and how unbelievably wet you were.

It stung a little, but only added to the feeling as your hips rose off the bed, “Shit, shit-”

They felt… like the best toy you could ever imagine. Smooth, cold, and hard enough that you could feel every faint ridge of the joints as he slid them in and out. You reached out, grabbing his arm with one hand and the bed with the other, needing something to hold onto as instinct took over. Your hips rode upwards, back arching as you rocked his fingers in deeper, feeling them in your spine almost. It was better than you could have imagined.

Bucky dropped his head to your chest, spreading his mouth over your breast and his other arm slid over your hips, pinning them to the bed so you were forced to take it. “You wanted this, baby… You take it.” He bit down on the soft flesh of your breast before smoothing his tongue over it again, working an alternative rhythm to his fingers and thumb again, so that your brain couldn’t keep up with which one to follow. It knew only the waves of fire singing through your veins.

Time may have very well dissolved, because you could only feel pleasure, tinged almost with pain.

The thick, hard stroking of fingers as they stretched and wrecked you.

The circling, hard-soft-hard pressure of his thumb on your clit.

The bite of his teeth on your breasts, neck and chest, followed by the wet press of his tongue.

The way he couldn’t help his hips slightly rocking against your leg.

This was almost like a fever dream, expect your brain couldn’t have come up with something this mind melting. Not even if you were really, really worked up.

The noises in the room were absolutely sinful. The unrestrained cries and moans from your lips, Bucky’s groans and his filthy words, the wet pump of his fingers inside you – it was obscene, filthy and completely, painfully mind-blowing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bucky, please-” You had no idea what you were begging for, but every single nerve and muscle in your body was coiling tighter and tighter, your hips jerking against his arm as he pinned you down, forcing you to take this, to feel everything he was doing with no relenting. Tears were beginning to blur your eyes and the pleasure he unleashed upon you was almost painful.

Bucky somehow moved his fingers harder, deeper, the ability of the tech in his arm allowing him to do so, “Let go, baby, come on, let it go for me..” He dropped his head, biting down on your neck and he pressed his fingers against that spot inside you, flicking your clit with his thumb and then it all just snapped.

Waves and waves of hot fire flooded your body, dragging you up to the stars, further. It ripped the air from your lungs, made you half scream his name in a never-ending prayer.

It just didn’t stop.

Bucky kept moving inside you, drawing out every single second of your mind-shattering orgasm, letting go of your hips so you could grind them into his hand. “That’s it, baby… Look at you, so beautiful like that…” His praise spurred you on, making you feel almost like a goddess as you flooded his hand.

He stopped only when you slumped back onto the bed, sucking in deep breaths as you tried to piece yourself back together.

Better than toys indeed.

A little while later, you stirred from a light dose to see Bucky lounging on your couch again, cleaning the grooves and metal of his fingers with a soft cloth.

The sight of him concentrating, taking such care and detail with the clean-up, the cleanup from the mess you had made, had you instantly wet again. “Bucky.”

He looked up, hearing the low thrum to your voice and a smirk crossed his lips.

You had a favour to repay for his helping hand, after all.

#well #that happened #i am not sorry #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #arm kink

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gwynrielsupremacist · 3 years ago

Text

A COURT OF LIGHT AND SHADOWS

Chapter 1: Voices

Read at AO3.

Gwyn's afternoon couldn't get any worse.

First of all, the morning's training had been horrendous.

Three weeks after the Blood Rite, Cassian and Azriel had thought it was time to start practicing again, since according to them, they had made a lot of mistakes that could very well have cost them their lives.

She was still alive, just like Nesta and Emerie, so at least one thing they had done well, survive.

After 3 weeks of not doing any sports, it was noticeable when you came back with all the energy, especially on a day where the sun was literally burning.

She noticed as she did push-ups that morning how her arms were trembling dangerously, the sweat running down the curve of her breasts, soaking the shirt she had worn.

Gwyn had promised herself that she would go out into the outside world.

That year she had made a lot of progress, she supposed she should be ready to enter society again, but no.

After the events in the Blood Rite, what she wanted was to lock herself in the darkest corner of the library, with a good book, and stay there to live.

Obviously, she couldn't do that. But she would have liked it.

With all the sore muscles, having failed almost all the obstacles the two Illyrians put them, showing a regrettable endurance in each and every one of the exercises, she had to go down to the library to have a pleasant chat with Merrill, who did not understand why her performance hadn't been 100% in recent weeks.

"I don't know, Merrill. Maybe because they pulled me out of bed against my will, left me in the middle of a forest full of Illyrians, while I had to fight to stay safe, as well as having to kill people? Maybe because I had never left the library after Sangravah, and I suddenly found myself in the same situation? " She reasoned, trying to control her pulse, having remembered the events in the Blood Rite.

She detested Merrill.

More than anyone else, she hated her. She often thought that life would be so much easier if people like Merrill just didn't exist.

After leaving her a ton of work to do, the female disappeared, leaving Gwyn with about seven books resting in her arms, already numb from the morning exercises.

She ran to the nearest table, relieved when she put the books down, with a thud.

She rubbed her dazed hands, wincing at the pile of books that awaited her to spend hours and hours together.

She had to research one of Merrill's new obsessions, the ancient and forgotten Prythian gods.

"I didn't even know they existed", she opined, opening a random book to a random page, flipping through the contents.

She got dizzy from so much information she did not understand, closing the pages with force, grabbing a cart that was nearby, leaving the volumes in it and going to her room, to calmly read those pages and pages of useless information, and then do a chapter-by-chapter summary for Merrill.

"Great, it's a good way to spend your free time if you love reading junk." She groaned as she carefully lowered the cart down the stairs.

"It is not junk. It is information that may be useful at some point", answered her subconscious.

At least she thought it was her subconscious.

She didn't remember when she had started to hear that voice, just one day it had appeared, and now it was considered the voice of reason.

Everything that voice said, it was true.

"I know, but I don't know how knowing which are the main and forgotten gods of Prythian is going to solve my problems." She attacked, greeting one priestess that came close to her, passing by her side.

The voice fell silent, apparently it had nothing more to add.

At least Gwyn could answer the voice in her mind. It would have been a strange thing to see a person argue with herself.

Upon reaching the room, which was a simple square with a bed, a wooden desk with a wooden chair that had more splinters than wood itself, and a modest closet, also made of wood.

Yeah, in summer the termites would destroy all the furniture if she wasn't careful.

Closing the door with the latch, one of the little luxuries she had on it, she put the books down with a thump, brushing her hands on the skirts of the gown, which was already heavily encrusted with dust.

She thought of taking off that long dress, which after so many washes the initial blue had ended up in an almost invisible gray, but she did not feel like going to the common baths of the priestesses, because every time she went there, they peppered her with questions about the Blood Rite.

And the last thing she wanted to do was talk about it.

So she collapsed on the bed, pulling back the covers and hugging the pillow with one arm, as she got into a fetal position.

"You have to go out, you can't hide in the bedroom all afternoon." It protested, to which she responded very kindly with a growl as she turned, trying to make it understand that she was going to do whatever she wanted.

"Alright then. If you get caught between the sheets and can't get out, don't come running to ask me for help." it threatened.

Gwyn didn't know how she was going to ask for help to a voice. It was disembodied, how the hell was she going to beg for help if she didn't even know what that murmur was?

She rolled over on the bed, rubbing her eyes and exhaling, disappointed.

She hated not being able to get out of that damn room.

She hated her insecurity and her irrational fear.

"It is not irrational, Gwyn." It assured her.

"Leave me alone." She begged, getting it to shut up.

She lay on her stomach, breathing deeply.

She looked at the time on the only clock in the room, located above the closet.

19.36.

It appears that she had a lot of time to do absolutely nothing.

Maybe she was going to pick up a book that Nesta and Emerie were reading.

Honestly, she was dying to sink her teeth into one that had caught her attention. According to her description, a maiden sent by the gods fell in love with her bodyguard...

Determined, she bolted upright, unlocking the latch, happily heading for the book.

There would be time to examine the books Merrill had passed her.

Anyway, she had a lot of time, reading something that interested her was not going to do anything bad to everyone.

With a broad grin, she made it to the fiction book section. She opened one of the books, tucking her nose between the pages, an exhale escaping from her lips when she smelled the wonderful book scent.

Her gaze sparking, she searched for the novel she was looking for.

"Didn't you forget something?" It asked.

She stopped short in the middle of the shelves, alarming a passing priestess.

Bowing her head in apology, she went back to searching, her eyes narrowing as she searched the thousands of spins with her eyes, finding none that bore the name of the book she was looking for.

"I don't have any errands to deliver to Merrill." She snapped, frowning when she finally found it.

It was at the top of the shelf.

She made a long face, standing on her tiptoes, stretching her arm as far as she could as she stuck her tongue out, focused.

"I don't mean Merrill, Gwyneth."

"Mysterious voice, what are you talking about?" The priestess demanded in a tired voice. She did not arrive. Why did they make the shelves so high? It was not possible that someone could reach them.

Although, don't get it wrong, Gwyn adored the voice. It was equal to the voice that we all have within us guiding us.

The problem was that the voice that she had was a little… annoying.

She looked at the shelves next to the floor, no books in sight.

Maybe if she got on them…?

She put one foot on it, skipping little hops as she judged whether the bookcase was going to fall or not.

Realizing that it was unlikely, she lifted her other foot, raising her heels as much as she could while she stretched out her arm, feeling her muscles go numb.

A little more ... just a little more ...

"You remember that your friend Nesta has a mate, right? And that you promised them that you would go to her ceremony?" As soon as she finished the sentence, Gwyn stopped.

Shit.

Seriously, had she forgotten that?

"There is still time… There are five days until the ceremony." The voice tried to calm her down, but nothing was going to do it now.

She jumped down from the shelf, as she began to walk from one place to another, in circles.

She had to go.

She couldn't do that to Nesta.

"I don't even have a dress. What am I going to wear?" Alarmed, she slightly stretched the strands of her coppery hair, thinking of a way to solve all the problems that had suddenly befallen her.

I have to leave the library to go to the mating ceremony.

The female began to hyperventilate, forgetting the book that she had held less than 3 centimeters from her hands.

That was far more important.

"I can't tell Nesta that I forgot about her mating ceremony. I can't do that to her." Gwyn protested, running her hands over her face, rubbing her temples angrily, forcing herself to search for solutions and solutions and solutions.

But neither of them was going to work.

She had to get out of there, no priestess was going to leave her a suitable dress for the mating ceremony.

But she couldn't go alone. She did not dare to go down to the city alone.

Emerie couldn't help her. It had started the illyrian high-selling season and the illyrian needed the money. She only went to training, then she quickly returned to her store, not staying a minute longer than necessary.

Cassian and Nesta were completely out of the question.

Azriel...

"Ask him." The voice advised.

She needed to name that voice. She could not continue calling it "the voice", that was beginning to be uncomfortable.

"Maybe he can help you get the dress." It continued.

Would it be male or female? Or rather, what the hell was it?

"Are you listening to me?"

She definitely had no idea what it was.

"What are you?" Gwyn questioned, curious as she left the fiction section behind, walking aimlessly through the library.

She loved to wander aimlessly through the thousands of bookshelves, silent priestesses, the whisper of books her only company.

Besides that voice, of course.

"Have you heard anything I've said to you in the last two minutes?" Her voice roared.

"I've heard nonsense, so no, I haven't heard anything." She claimed. "But anyway, you haven't answered my question. What are you?"

"I am everything and I am nothing at the same time."

Now was it was being funny with her?

She rolled her eyes, annoyed "That is not an answer."

"It's an answer if you know how to interpret it." It answered.

She rolled her eyes again.

"Well, at least tell me what I can call you, it's uncomfortable to think of you as 'The voice'" She asked.

The voice fell silent, which she thought meant the end of the conversation.

She decided to head over to her room, assuming she should start Merrill's work, until 'the Voice' answered her.

"Elián"

Gwyn stood in the middle of the bedroom hall

"That is your name?" She asked.

"My real name would burn your lips if you were able to pronounce it" It replied. "But yes, Elián is my name, and I am 'him', I have noticed how you struggled because you did not know if I was a man or a woman. The definition of gender is much more complicated than that, but it will be enough".

"G-Good." She answered.

Elián was quiet at last, leaving her with her own thoughts, as she opened the door, her own scent of jasmine feeling welcoming.

And the proposal he had made, although obviously she had ignored it, she was not wrong to consider.

Perhaps the Shadowsinger would help her out, aiding her finding a decent dress for her.

She closed the crank behind her, sitting on the small bed, wondering if it would be smart to ask him, risking him saying no, or not asking him and risking not having a dress for the ceremony.

Sighing, she figured she should go to the bathrooms to get the sensation of dust - and the dust itself - off her body, so she grabbed change clothes and headed there, deciding at that moment that tomorrow she would ask the Spymaster if he could accompany her to buy a dress.

Inside her, she could feel Elián nodding his head, giving his approval.

TAG LIST (tell me if you want to be tagged or deleted) @bookish-isha @imsointobooks @shisingh @feyretale @niaacotar @flora-shadowshine @tealnymph24 @trashforazriel @hlizr50 @meher-sumedha @heyovivi @positivewitch @greywarens-magician @sageofthegalaxy @valkygwyn @verifiefangirl @verifiefangirl-mainblog @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @genya-berdara @katekatpattywack @frulyall @mercurianbisous @rainbowcheetah512

#omg here's the first chapter #i hope you like it <3 #gwynriel #my fic #acolas #acosf #acotar #nessian #elucien #gwynriel fanfiction #azriel #gwyn berdara #gwyn #gwyneth berdara

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timbertumbr · 4 years ago

Text

Average (Ninjago Zane X Reader)

No spoilers. Just something I wrote. :)

Believe it or not, you’re the only average person aboard the bounty. No elemental powers, no crazy super intelligence, you’re just a normal human being that happens to know the Ninja. How you met is also pretty normal, you just came across the dojo in search of directions and now you live on the bounty. Sensei Wu was intrigued by you, even if you were normal and kept insisting as such.

“Normal comes in different shapes and sizes, but it’s always based on interpretation. You may find yourself to be normal, but others may think differently,” That’s what he said which convinced you to join, that and the fact he muttered under his breath that the Ninja need more social interactions besides their own tight knit group.

The Ninja were a little wary at first, which is understandable after all they’ve been through. But they came around eventually. You help them out whenever and however you can. Usually it’s small things like doing a chore or making sure the equipment was cleaned and safe for the Ninja.

And it hasn’t gone unnoticed, after you’re done with a chore or whatever you’re doing to help out, one of the Ninja comes up to you and asks if you want to watch them train or want to play video games with them. Ah, bonding experiences.

While you were reminiscing on how close you’ve gotten to the Ninja, you walked to the kitchen to see if you could find something to eat when you noticed the fridge and cabinets were practically bare.

Taking out your phone, you begin writing a list of things you need before texting Jay that you’ll be going to the store. He sends you a thumbs up emoji in response. You pocket your phone and walk out onto the deck, hop over the side and tumble onto the top of a building. Just because you live with the ninja, doesn’t mean you are one.

You get up, dust yourself off, open the roof top and walk down the stairs until you’re on the busy streets of Ninjago city. You open Google Maps and begin walking to the closest store.

________

After around an hour and a half, you walked out of the store with a cartful of bags. You pull out your phone and begin texting Jay to come pick you up with the groceries when someone grabs you from behind, a hand covering your mouth.

Fear flooded your system and you grabbed a hold of the assailants finger before pulling back on it HARD. A male scream rang through the parking lot as you slipped from his grasp and started running. You didn’t make it far before another person jumped out from the corner and swiftly punched you in the face. You stagger for a bit before your body hits the pavement and you soon lose consciousness.

_________

You groan when you open your eyes and realize your body is stiff. You try to stretch but realize you're tied up. Great. And on top of that, a stinging pain is erupting from where you got punched.

You look around and see that there’s a lot of people around. They’re all looking at you, so you can’t exactly try and figure out how to escape even if you wanted to. But you’re too terrified and shocked to be even thinking about escaping.

In a matter of moments, a person emerges from the shadows of the dark room and approaches you with a grin. You could only stare in fear.

“Comfortable? I’d hope so since you’re our money bargain,” He taunted, so clearly he's the leader. Or maybe the right hand man? Again, you couldn’t tell. You swallow as best as you can and open your mouth to speak.

“Wh-What do you want?” You curse under your breath, stuttering and showing fear is what they want… But you can’t exactly help it. The people in the room begin cackling.

“Sounds like someone’s not paying attention, ey gang? You’re a money ticket, and you’re also going to help us prove that we’re the only thing the ninja should care about,” He sneers while poking your forehead. Oh. OH. They’re THOSE kinds of bad guys, the overconfident ones. He backs away from you and looks to the others in the room.

“Be on your guard, they ARE Ninja after all,” And with that he takes his leave. Okay, so this is good. It’s only a matter of time before the ninja find you. Either before or after the ransom call, it wouldn’t matter anyway. But… a small part of you worried they wouldn’t notice.

You shake your head gently to get rid of those thoughts. They’d come. They always do. Your shaking slightly irritated your now bruising cheek which made you inhale sharply. A chorus of quiet chuckles scattered throughout the room.

Seconds pass, them minutes. You waited and waited… until you heard a wonderful sound. Something hitting one of the many gang members and them groaning in pain. You look around in hope.

“It’s the Ni- AGH!” They got kicked into the wall and got knocked out instantly. The entire room was filled with the sounds of fighting while you watched blurs fly around the room. In a matter of minutes, everyone was on the ground either groaning in pain or just flat out unconscious.

“Y/N! Are you alright?!” Cole asks, taking off his hood and coming around to untie you while Zane looks around the room scanning their vitals to ensure no one was faking.

“I’m alright, just glad you’re here,” You stretched after being released from your bonds. You meant what you said, you just wish you could’ve done more.

“It seems everyone is down for the count. I have contacted the authorities to deal with them and their leader,” Zane approaches you two as he speaks and stares at you.

“You are injured,” Cole furrows his brows in slight confusion before checking and gasps.

“What the- You said you were alright!” Cole panicked a little (a lot), you smile sheepishly.

“I am, it just stings a bit is all,” Zane silently looks between you and Cole before speaking.

“We should return to the bounty. The others are worried for your safety,” He turns on his heel and begins to walk out despite Cole trying to protest. You awkwardly follow the two back to the bounty.

___________

When you return to the bounty, you receive a lot of worried yelling from mostly everyone on the ship. Wu and Zane were able to quiet them before things got out of hand.

“Zane, can you take care of Y/N’s injuries?” Wu asks, Zane opens his mouth to answer.

“Y/N WAS INJURED?!” Jay screeched.

“Who was it?! Let me at ‘em!” Nya yelled afterwards.

“Hey, at least leave some for me sis,” Kai adds. Zane sighs and gently takes your hand. He starts to slightly drag you away from the worried chaos that was the Ninja. You walk past the kitchen to see Lloyd was making dinner. He sees you both and waves before returning back to his task.

“How-”

“It was the cart that led us to your location. I asked Jay, Kai and Lloyd to put away the groceries while Cole and I searched for you,” Zane explains as you enter the bathroom. He asks you to sit on the toilet and you do. Zane takes out the first aid kit and grabs the necessary supplies. He pours some hydrogen peroxide onto some cotton pads, turns to you and kneels.

“This may sting,” He mutters before gently patting your bruised cheek, causing you to inhale sharply until the stinging stops.

“Apologies,” He gets up and throws away the cotton pad, returning to the first aid kit and fishing out the appropriate bandaid and ointment. He applies the ointment on the bandaid before gently putting it on your cheek.

“Thank you Zane,” He nods as he puts away the first aid kit.

“In the future, when you’re running errands please take one of us with you,” Zane comments politely.

“Oh. Yeah, I can understand why but…” You trail off, Zane raises a brow in confusion.

“But…?”

“It feels like I’m wasting your time. I’m not like any of you and was only able to live on the ship because Wu thought it would be for the best. You all have big responsibilities to shoulder and I don’t want to make things more difficult for you,” Zane stares at you unsure of how to respond. You start to get uncomfortable and get up.

“S-Sorry, forget I said anything, yeah?”

“No,”

“Huh?” You look at Zane confused.

“No, I will not be simply forgetting something that you’ve seemed to be harboring for quite some time now. I do not believe you are wasting anyone’s time, in fact, time spent with you always makes the others and myself quite happy. You’re always making sure we’re alright and do what you think are the simplest of chores that we simply do not have time for. You brighten our world, Y/N. You always have and always will,”

Zane smiles at you while you stare at him shocked but also happy. He opens his arms offering a hug and you take it, wrapping your arms around the robo boi.

“Thank you Zane,” You mutter. He gently pats your head.

“It is no problem, Y/N,” You both separate and FINALLY exit the bathroom. The scent of Lloyd’s cooking enters your nose as soon as you leave the room.

“Looks like Lloyd’s done! Let’s go before Cole and Kai eat it all,” You joke, speed walking to the dining room. Zane follows with a confused smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Want to Request? Please Read this before you do so.

#Ninjago #Zane #Ninjago Zane X Reader #X Reader

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my2phetaliaheadcanons · 3 years ago

Note

HIIIIIIIIIII 👀💕

Could you ask how Russia, Germany, Spain and America would react if their girlfriend was almost kidnapped by a guy obsessed with her?

Hello to you too!

I’m gonna assume that they would be the one to prevent the kidnapping, but if that’s not what you meant, don’t be afraid to let me know.

All he heard was her scream, and that was enough to send him running.

Russia – Viktor would not be happy seeing a stranger dragging his ла́до through the front door of her home.

Viktor would calmly stalk toward the two. His face set in its typical stoic way and while reaching his hand into his coat. While his ла́до would be delighted and reaching toward him, the failure of a man would get more desperate. Tugging her harsher, and even yelling threats.

Her yelps would cause Viktor to brandish his sickle. A quick slash and his arm would be gone. Both groups would scream, while the creep would be on the ground cradling his stump. Viktor would hold his ла́до close, turning her away from the scene and whispering words of comfort to her.

Viktor would escort her into her home while pulling out his phone. A quick call later, his men would arrive to cart away the creep. He would stay with her to comfort her, all the while instructing his men to gather information on the creep and to torture him, but to leave him alive.

Once she feels safe again, Viktor would visit the creep. Having read the information on the creeper, Viktor would relay all he knows to his new victim. Reading each and every dirty sin the man had committed, each being paired with a blow from his sickle.

Before the creep passes, Viktor would be more than happy to inform him about how weak his chances were of actually getting together with his ла́до. Watching the horror and sorrow on his face would be delicious to Viktor.

There would be no finding the body, while Viktor stays at his ла́до home for a few days. This way he can ease her mind and add better security measures to her home.

Germany – Luther would be shocked; he had just gone to get them drinks and this creep was attempting to kidnap his Kätzchen right off his Zündapp KS 750.

Luther would pull his pistole out of his waistband and fire into creeper’s leg. The loud bang would resonate throughout the empty 7-11 parking lot. While the creeper screams and falls onto the ground, Luther would walk over to his Kätzchen and move her into the convenience store. He would tell her to go tell the clerk what happened while he makes sure he doesn’t leave.

While waiting on the police to show, the creeper would rattle off how Kätzchen was rightfully his. This would increase Luther’s irritation, and so he would start beating the tar out of yandere to be. Fists would move rapidly and the sounds of bones breaking would become the only thing breaking the silence of the night.

It would take the officers pulling Luther off the creep and his Kätzchen calling out to him for his anger to quell. As the freak is escorted into a police car, Luther would be sure to kiss his Kätzchen very passionately. Not only would this enrage the creep, but Luther would also enjoy getting the last word against him.

Afterward, Luther would insist that she stay at his home for a few days. That way he can ensure that any other types of freaks won’t touch her.

Spain – Armando was both furious and happy. Angered because firstly his herbs were ruined and second his Hermosa was being carried away on the shoulder of some freak. Happy because he gets to use his trusty ax.

Since the obsessive got a head start, Armando would follow behind silently. He would play with his prey for a little bit first. As he went along, as his Hermosa struggled, he would hear about how the creep would have their lives together planned and all the facts he would know about Armando’s girl.

This would get his blood boiling and would make his vengeance taste even sweeter. Taking his time to run up the path, Armando would stand in the final stretch between the creeper and his car. Axe leaned on his shoulder and standing like a proud fighter.

The shock would be the increase Armando’s joy, as the creeper would be sure that he had left Armando far behind. His grin would grow as he stalked forward and watching as the creep back up. He would then tease the creep. Taunts of how creeper thought he even had a chance with his beautiful carnation and how no matter how hard he pushes; she would never love him.

These taunts would cause creeper to drop his Hermosa and attempt to rush Armando. Well, as one could imagine, creeper stood no chance. It took only a few swipes before the creep was gone from this world.

Armando would collect his Hermosa. Though callous, he would stay with her through the night and insist that she move into his home. That way he can guarantee that his event doesn’t get repeated.

As a side note, Armando would call his boss about the incident. The reason he doesn’t get grounded is that his boss doesn’t want to risk more blood being shed.

America – The sight of his precious doll being limp and carried by a stranger would cause him to see red. Bat in hand, Allen would do the only thing he deemed necessary. Kill.

Allen would quickly stalk to the creep and snatch his doll back like a kid that had his favorite stuffed bear stolen. While the creep sits there and screams about how his doll belongs to him, Allen sets her on the ground. His anger reaching levels he hadn’t thought were possible, all because the guy rattles off things he shouldn’t know about his girl.

Once certain she was comfortable, Allen would slowly turn to the dude. A smile that is so chilling that it would cause the Joker to piss his pants. As the creep starts to concede to the pressure from the grin, Allen would act.

A charge and a bat swing would be the only thing the creep would process. Allen on the other hand would continue to strike repeatedly until nothing is left but a pile of bloody mush.

While panting, Allen would have calmed down. Though covered in blood, he would pick her up and walk to his home. Along the way wondering if anyone else is watching her and what needs to be done to protect her.

Also, since Allen isn’t going to try and hide what he’s done. He is gonna be more worried about his girl. This leads to his boss finding out and getting grounded. This may be due to the fact Allen didn’t check if the failure of a yandere died or not. So, hopefully, his doll won’t mind him hanging out or visiting him in prison. Because if she doesn’t he’s gonna force crash at her place to ease his own mind at least.

#2p hetalia #2p headcanons #2p russia #2p spain #2p germany #2p america

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pangtasias-atelier · 4 years ago

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The Summoner’s New Drug

This was originally conceived as a joke between me and tumbyrumblings except I kinda wrote a lot and kept going lol. Though I feel like I wrote a whole lotta nothing despite this being 4k words abjsbjbbs

Please know that any inaccuracies is cause I meant it that way lmao. Story involves the obvious three characters at ridiculously large sizes

"They're brownies," Corrin softly chimes in from his seat in the corner, his downcast eyes focusing on his warm chamomile tea instead.

"And what exactly is so special about these…" Grima trails off with a grimace. A plate of freshly baked brownies held in Kiran's hands, Grima eyes them warily as if concocted to destroy him.

"We have nothing like that in Phoenicis," Tibarn stands behind Kiran. He inquisitively glances down at the baked goods. A quick sniff relays enough information on his lack of knowledge on the dessert. "Chocolate huh. Those Begnion pigs loved that stuff,"

"Unsurprisingly, Corrin's the only one to really know about this kind of stuff," Kiran gives a small sigh before going on to inform them. "They're brownies. A nice little gooey, fudgy, chocolaty sweet. And they're special because I baked them myself! Doubly so since they're pot brownies,"

Upon the sudden adjective, Grima and Tibarn both turn towards Corrin. "I've never heard of that word before," He curves his tail closer to himself, not exactly appreciating the attention.

"They've got weed in them," Kiran clarifies. With a lack of a reaction, he divulges further. "You smoke it to feel good but you can also use it in food?" All three of them simply stare at him with morbid curiosity, none of them understanding the summoner. He lets out an exaggerated sigh before placing down the tray of goods. Grabbing a notebook he roughly sketches out the plant.

"Ah, you mean bud," Tibarn is the first one to respond. "I didn't think you'd know of such a thing. I used to enjoy it from time to time with Ulki and Janaff growing up,”

"That's the devil's grass," Corrin adds, now eyeing the brownies warily.

Kiran holds back a small snicker. "Oh come now; this is nothing so morbid like that. It's perfectly harmless and it makes you feel pretty nice,"

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Familiar with it, only in a different form, Tibarn shrugs his shoulders without a care. Grabbing one of the brownies, he merely takes a simple sniff before heartily chomping into the delicacy. “Mmm, you’ve outdone yourself,” Tibarn takes another quick two bites to finish it, a content thumbs up thrown Kiran’s way. “Heh, don’t mind if I take another one, right?” His eyelids drooping, Tibarn doesn’t wait for a response; instead he grabs two at once, one in each hand. He lets out a small, breathy chuckle. He stares at his hands while he continues to munch, as if each digit contained limitless knowledge possessed by Ashunera.

"Who cares about a weed concoction? It is yet another pointless distraction meant to please you pathetic worms," Grima skulks about as ever. Unwilling to partake in merriment enjoyed by others, he keeps his arms crossed.

“I guess you’re right,” Kiran sighs. He turns his back towards Grima. “Alfonse did like these, so I should save some for him if you won’t eat any,” As he goes to walk towards the plate, Kiran already has a grin forming on his face while he waits for his plan to work.

“That pathetic princeling has no need or right of anything that is yours,” And work it does as Grima barrels past Kiran in a frantic rush to reach the brownies. Only wishing to deny someone else enjoyment, Grima angrily takes a bite of the brownie. Chocolate smears his lips. “Much less anything that is mine,,, ooh,” The sweet brownie dances on his tongue. A faint blush forming on his face, Grima’s shoulders lose their tension as they slack. “Perhaps I was mistaken. This weed thing is good,” Grima licks the chocolate smeared all over his teeth, desperate to not let a single gram go. “What was I even complaining about?” Grima’s eyes turn a bit red, the effect seemingly instantaneous.

“I think I’ll pass,” Corrin remains in his secure little corner; he continuously passes concerned glances at Tibarn and Grima.

“Oh come on. It’s not even bad for you,” Having already gotten two out of three, Kiran becomes pushy, pushing the drug onto Kiran. “They’ve only got a small amount” Standing over Corrin’s seated form, he towers over the petite dragon.

“I’m…” As Corrin mulls over on what to do, a voice suddenly pops into his head. ‘You know, my wife Nancy has a saying. Tell ‘em Nancy!’ Corrin’s mind is perfectly silent for a fraction of a second as it waits for another voice to join in. ‘Just say no!’ Corrin stares at the brownie in Kiran’s hand, his willpower marginally renewed from the voices of ghosts not from his world.

Seeing Corrin push back, Kiran pipes up more. “Everyone else is doing it. Just be cool about it,” Holding the brownie right in front of Corrin’s face, Kiran keeps a neutral expression. “Just try it,”

“Fine,” He brushes a bit of his hair to the side as he responds. Corrin trepidatiously accepts the brownie from Kiran, as if it were going to explode in his hand. His stomach churns and toils. He takes a few deep breaths to psyche himself up. Lifting the confection to his mouth, he takes a lil nibble of it. He nods his head in agreement, his body gently swaying to the side in clear enjoyment of it. “This is actually good,” He still takes small nibbles of it but each consecutive bite is always a bit larger than the last. A puff of air comes out his nose in a definite sign of contentment. By the time he finishes his first brownie, he grabs another one to peck at. He makes himself comfortable as he lies down on the couch. He stares at the plain empty ceiling. His mind relaxing, a myriad of shapes and colors that he never knew existed bounce around on the ceiling.

“You guys hungry?” Asking as innocuous as he can be, Kiran already knows the answer to his own question. “You boys wait right here, I’ll be right back with some snacks,” A chorus of hmms sound out as he saunters out the room. Kiran grabs the already prepared cart of food placed right beside the door. Waiting a few minutes, afraid to perhaps come off as too prepared and give something away, he comes right back inside after his self imposed time is up. “I figured you might be a bit peckish, so I got some snacks for you all,” Grima TIbarn and Corrin alike are all too faded to give much of a response besides another round of humms. Kiran doles out snacks to them, the three hungry men snacking away.

His plan on introducing the drug working exactly as planned, Kiran goes onto phase two. Not planning to crack down on them with unjust and pointless laws meant to harm minorities and benefit those in power, the second part of his plan is fundamentally the exact same as the first part; introduce more and more of the drug and let things take their natural course. As natural as the course can be with him being in charge of it all now.

All three perfectly chill and calm ever since having their first taste of weed in Askr, as befitting the effects of marijuana, they all feel another much more important side effect. Well, important to Kiran. The munchies. Addicted to it, all of them are constantly doped up on dope. They simply laze about throughout the entirety of their day, their days now filled with weed and food. Completely lacking awareness from being high all the time, they easily allow it. The pot brownie the gateway drug into other variants, Kiran introduces them to gummies, weed beverages, before even having most of their food contain it once their bodies build up enough of a resistance to it. Marijuana ice cream, weed milk, weed infused lobster, weed mac n cheese, weed gravy, anything and everything, upon hearing it contains weed, Grima Tibarn and Corrin clammer to try it. The more weed in their system, the fiercer the growing pit in their stomach demands food, the munchies taking a tighter grip on their bodies.

Their trim bodies gain an inkling of a pot belly, a trim sliver of pudge forming on the lowest part of their abdomen. That promptly thickens with a bit more time, said sliver of pudge blossoming into a full fledged gut, their arms gaining a bit of circumference all around as do their legs, their appendages getting a bit closer and compressed to their chunky middle. Over time, their usual outfits grow snug in places never before; shirts tighten around their swelling middles, pants constrict their jiggly thighs, and sleeves compress their flabby arms. Too faded to care, their addled brained minds preferring to fixate on satiating their cravings, they simply adorn their tight clothes even as those seem more akin to rags as their burgeoning bodies outgrow them near completely. They lack a single concern in the world with Kiran providing them all the weed and food they could want. Lazing and grazing about their only objective each day, all three’s activity spike down to near nonexistence. The only activity they get is shifting around a few times a day and the semi occasional walk to another location to space out and enjoy their environment, like the castle’s gardens or the lake. But even that minimal effort of movement begins to die down over time, their widening waistlines proving too taxing to bother themselves.

Moving past fat to obesity, Tibarn’s upper figure is the most prominent part of himself. A veritable gut rolls down his tree trunk thighs. The lowest roll of flab nearly reaches all the way down to his swollen calves. Each ponderous step Tibarn takes, the few that he has to, causes the great flabby beast to sway to and fro before undulating from the deep, heavy breaths he takes afterwards from the exertion. His defined pecs look like they never existed on his figure, two pendulous sagging breasts plunging to the side of his mountain of a gut. His arms are wider than the average heroe’s thighs, the doughy sagging arms constantly at an angle from the upper rolls of his torso. His once angular face lacks any sort of severity to it, Tibarn’s now cherubic face taken up by his puffed out cheeks and multiple squished together necks. His ass respectable in its own rights, the shapeless mounds for an ass sag down.

“About..” TIbarn takes a moment to catch his breath, his cheeks puffing out. “time,” Seated on a couch, Tibarn’s immensity takes up the entirety of it, his girthy love handles oozing out onto the armrests. Not a single space left on the seating, his gut rolls off of it and his thighs. The couch sags at the center from his crushing weight.

“Can’t keep you waiting for too long, big guy,” Kiran places a hand on Tibarn’s sprawling gut before rubbing slow circles on it, the immensity of his flab caving in from the slight pressure. “Brought you your favorites,” Handing him a tray consisting of meat, meat, and some more meat, Kiran places it on the titanic shelf of his chest. Kiran also hands him weed gushers. He pats Tibarn’s gut, the mass of fat wobbling in return. Tibarn promptly digs in as soon as his overly laden arms reach the plate of food.

Heading towards Corrin, the once constantly worried dragon is much more relaxed and chilled out. Used to some manners, he continues to sit at the now comparatively tiny table in the room. His body filled out everywhere, his plush rotund body bulges out with fat all over. One chair can no longer withstand his crushing weight, so now he sits on an entire three, the sides of his ass spilling off the sides of them. The inner rivets of his thighs curve inward from the fat piled onto them only for his great gut to smother the entirety of them under its weight. His flab digs into the table, his plush fat seeping above and below it despite it not being as massive as Tibarn’s. His breasts somehow retain a sense of form to them, his juicy, plump chest resting atop his gut.

“How’re you doing?” Kiran comes up from behind, placing a gentle hand on Kiran’s should as he walks around his obese form. “Hungry or anything?”

“I’m fine,” Corrin lets out a small sigh, his fat face giving a contented smile. His nose perks as the wafts of what Kiran is carrying reaches his nostrils. More weed arriving, Corrin’s gut involuntarily grumbles, a deep cavernous rumble shaking his entire body. “Actually,” Corrin pauses, embarrassed to admit his needs.

“I got you covered,” Kiran ruffles the top of Corrin’s hair. He places a plate atop his buxom chest. A spread of food, all of them contain fair amounts of weed. Knowing Corrin will wait a few seconds before stuffing himself, Corrin goes to check on Grima.

The fat fell dragon sitting on a mattress, the cushion offers no real purpose besides customary, Grima’s massive ass oozing off the edges of it. His titanic door crushing thighs remain plastered onto the mattress. The wide, gargantuan appendages spread over the entirety of the mattress. His gut nowhere near as exaggeratedly big as his lower half, the doughy mass of fat rests comfortably atop his thighs. His generous chest lurches forward down onto his heaping stomach, his line of neck rolls and chins resting above said chest. His fat addled arms are at a constant angle from the jutting fat from both his torso and his arms. “And why am,” Grima lets out a groan to catch his breath. “I last?”

Kiran wasting no time waiting, he steps to the side of Grima with a plate ready as well. “Cause I knew you could hold on a bit longer for me. And besides, I'm here right now aren't I?” Kiran places a plate full of nothing but sweets. Each confection is chock full of cannabutter, exactly to Grima’s liking.

Stepping back, he takes an appreciative look of all three’s bloated bodies. Not quite yet immobile, their bodies holding out a bit longer than expected, Kiran’s brain whits as he imagines their obese figures even bigger, said image only a matter of time.

The time coming very quickly, it doesn’t take much longer for the three of them to find themselves unable to get up. Unconcerned from before when moving was already taxing, they display the exact same lack of concern on the same day they can’t get up. And still, they continue to eat and grow. What is once the beginning somewhat resemblant of a body immobility eventually turns into shapeless immobile blobs. Clothes go completely forgone, the amount of fabric needed to cover a single mountain of a gut astronomical. Furniture gets swallowed under their lard, mattresses and couches alike unable to withstand and withhold copious amounts of flab. Space diminishes. With not one. not two, but three pathetically food addicted and weed addicted men, their ever flowing flab presses up against not only itself but against each other with only so much space in the room to go around. So much fat swaddling their entire forms, legs and arms become useless, the appendages becoming buried in a sea of flab. All too eager to keep on eating, the bulging walls are of absolutely no concern when their fat builds and pushes against all four corners of the room. Flab busting down a wall and seeping out in desperation of more room only earns a sigh of relief from them with more breathing room. The ever increasing rolls making up a chin eventually seem to meld together. A tire of fat forms around their fat faces. A handful of heaping rolls lining their stomach become two handfuls into even more, more and more fat piling on top of their corpulent frames. Where once a room was sufficient to house all three immobile piles of lard, soon it becomes a room plus a hallway. Then it turns into multiple rooms before half an entire wing is necessary. Eventually, they take up the entirety of said wing only to require even more space with their ever constantly fattening forms. Soon, the entirety of Askr castle becomes uninhabitable with the looming threat of the three blobs burying the castle under a cascading blanket of lard.

Askr castle now entirely devoid of any sign of people besides three blobs, the only sound one can hear is the churning of overtaxed machines as they perform their best to keep feeding their users. One machine per person is no longer sufficient, each of them requiring two to sate their black hole of a stomach. In what is presumably the throne room, a location Kiran can only guess from how big his heroes’ have gotten, what with any and all furniture destroyed and smothered by their fat, Grima’s big bloated body greedily guzzles away at his liquid food. His hands and legs are equally smothered under titanic fat rolls. His pale blubbery legs have absolutely no definition or shape to them, the oozing oceanic thighs splaying out on both sides around him. A sea of rolls making them up, each thigh alone rivals the size of an average room. So much fat stacked on top of fat, they even give Grima some height to his billowing, massively wide frame. Not that it means much when he’s over six times as wide as he is tall. His ass melding into his thighs, there is no distinction on where exactly they separate from his thighs. The back wall of the throne room bulges outward from the substantial weight pressing onto it. The side wall is already destroyed from his thighs. His stomach able to house, well a house, the big lake of fat comfortably slots itself in between and atop his thighs. His breasts divot down to the sides of his gut, each of them alone larger than an actual person. Tibarn visible in Kiran’s peripheral vision, at least one of the three immobile blobs visible even when far away from the castle, it takes Kiran a whole 50 meters to walk from the center of Grima’s body to Tibarn’s center.. Tibarn the unfortunate one to be stuck in the middle of the three, he took the role with gusto. Unwilling to let himself be outdone, his body gushes outward onto Grima’s and Corrin’s. So immensely fat, three tubes are stuck inside his mouth at all times, his fat cheeks cascading down onto his shoulders. A multitude of chins stacked on top of each other, the rings of fat sag all the way down to where his plunging chest is. Each breast so massively bloated with fat, his great big tits reach far down his stomach. A great feat considering Tibarn’s stomach alone could fill up a library twice over. So many rolls riddling his stomach, they all blend and mix in with his overtaxed thighs and ass, Tibarn’s body hard to tell where each part ends and another starts. His thighs mostly smothered by his absolutely mountainous stomach the appendage somehow manage to look comparatively small despite their overwhelmingly large size. Kiran walks another 55 meters to reach Corrin’s gut. Corrin the runt of the three, his body still puts a pack of elephants to shame. His body once holding out on keeping a semblance of a figure, now he is nothing but a bunch of fat laden rolls of a blob. His arms completely useless, the two rotund cylindrical columns of fat splay out to the sides of his engorged body. His back fat and neck rolls encroach his face, a bit of his hair obstructed by the growing mass of fat. On the right, most of his body takes up the entirety of a single wing where they first got addicted to weed. So massively big that he alone takes it up, Corrin’s gut and thighs are equally impressive. Able to cover far more than a dozen mattresses, his tonnage goes where it pleases, overtaking the few furniture not crushed under one of the three’s weight.

Returning from his own world, Kiran sighs with pleasure. Buying out an entire store, he holds a mere fraction of his pull. “I brought some more weed for you all,” He speaks into a small mic, the three unable to hear him from the gushing sounds of their guzzling without a speaker placed by their sinking faces of fat. The mere mention of the drug gets all of them going, the poor machines whirring even harder as they greedily suck on their slop of feeding tubes. “This is the life,” Kiran smiles to himself with a few stretches to prepare himself for the taxing climb of three mountains of fat.

Later in the day

“Kiran, don’t tell me you gave them even more of this weed thing to them?” Pacing back and forth in his new room in some other smaller, remote castle, Alfonse exasperatedly sighs as he slumps back in his chair.

“I went to check on them. See how bad the weed has been affecting them. Which is why people shouldn’t be taking drugs,”

Alfonse’s eyes shoot wide open from Kiran’s lecturing tone. “Y-you gave it to them! And you keep giving it to them! There is absolutely no lesson to be had here. No moral. No aesop. Nothing. Besides!” Alfonse points an accusatory finger at Kiran, staring up at them even as Alfonse goes to stand up. “There is no way such a drug normally exists. You had to have enchanted it,”

“And what about it?” Kiran noncommittal shrugs. He goes to sit in his chair, far too pleased with himself even as Alfonse berates him.

“Th-then!” Alfonse momentarily stops. His brain wracks itself as it tries to figure out what to say now, not expecting Kiran to purposefully admit being at fault. “Then stop acting like you’re innocent! You gave some to Kaden and Keaton and now this castle is soon to be overtaken by two blobs! They fill up the entire west wing now. Kaden’s chest is so huge that they could crush a wagon! And Keaton’s stomach could crush three of them! And if you’re admitting to being at fault then you need to fix this right this instant!” His entire chest heaves as he finishes his impassioned beratement. He finds himself standing right in front of the seated Kiran who only has a far too amused grin on his face.

“You’re wrong about that,”

“Huh? About what?” Alfonse’s eyes keep steady as they glare at the summoner.

“It’s not going to be two blobs,” Kiran stands up. He stares down at Alfonse, right in front of him. His steely eyes grin down at the confused prince, Alfonse’s body suddenly yelling at him to run only for his feet to remain plastered to the ground. Kiran whips Alfonse around, pressing him against himself. Producing a brownie out of nowhere he tauntingly holds it in front of Alfonse. “It’s going to be three,” He whispers in Alfonse’s ear. A single bead of sweat rolls down the side of his head as his arms and legs thrash about. His struggling slowly dies down the instant the brownie reaches the inside of his mouth, Kiran holding his hand against Alfonse’s lips. Feeling Alfonse’s body begin to slack, Kiran slowly lets him go.

“Ugh I…” With lidded eyes, Alfonse looks at his hands. “I feel so chill,” A little burst of giggling ensues as he drapes himself onto the couch. His flat stomach lets out a small little grumble. “I feel kind of hungry,” Grumbling to himself, he gently holds his stomach in hopes of soothing the pain.

“Here, I have some snacks for you,” An angelic smile now adorning his face, Kiran caresses Alfonse’s hair as he hands him some snacks. “I’ll go get you some more just in case too,” Walking off, Kiran goes to bring him the entirety of the kitchen’s stock.

Alfonse succumbing to the same fate as the others, Kiran has him working overtime in order to catch up. Stuffed to the brim with food all hours of the day, that is nothing compared to the copious amounts of weed he feeds him every half hour. So aggravatingly hungry, it takes only a few weeks for Alfonse to find himself immobilised by his crushing weight. Unaware of ever being angry from the use of weed, he can barely find himself begging for more of it before Kiran supplies it to him alongside another feast or two or three. His fat body is as plain as his once thin body; fat simply cakes itself onto it all over. No exact body part is a standout from the rest even as his body fills the entirety of his room only to take up a whole wing by itself, a sea of fat spreading all around with only Kiran able to tell that the body belongs to Askr’s prince. Making sure to give him a rough time, it all works out for Kiran as Alfonse soon grows to be fatter than Kaden and Keaton combined, the poor kitsune and wolfskin each taking up only a quarter of the smaller castle compared to Alfonse’s three fourths.

Kiran rests on top of Alfonse’s numerous chins, the cascading folds sufficiently enough for him to comfortably rest. He sighs contentedly as the whirs of three feeding machines fill his ears, Alfonse requiring two now. “Pretty soon you’ll need even more, fat ass,” Chuckling to himself Kiran grins from ear to ear. A good portion of Alfonse’s fat taking up his vision, Kaden’s and Keaton’s crushing weight take up another significant portion, the two of them needing one feeding machine. But it’s the sight in the far background that brings him the most joy. Off in the distance, the distinct sight of three blobs looms over the landscape. Askr castle entirely now no more, the great structure would be unable to contain a single one of them, much less three. A mountain itself an apt comparison to each of their bloated figures, Kiran simply grins himself as he thinks about his visit to them tomorrow, a great climb comparable to Mount Everest only done thrice in one day awaiting him. Though he considers it more than worth it, wondering just how big they can further grow, all of them happy to do so.

#My writing #SSBHM #male weight gain #maleweightgain #immobility #fat emblem #feeder emblem #fat!heroes #fat!Grima #fat!Tibarn #fat!Corrin #fat!Alfonse #fat!Kaden #fat!Keaton

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years ago

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All Over Again - Chapter 4

Summary: What was lost can be found.

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence.

I was in the holiday spirit so I wrote this chapter. Kind of just filler stuff and LOTS of fluff. Enjoy!

Ch. 3

* * * * * *

“Awe, look at you in your fall colors.” You tease.

Wanda laughs, eyes on something ahead of her before she focuses on you,“ Laura gave me the scarf. I didn’t realize how cold it’d be today.”

You find your eyes looking at the window of your hotel,“ is it snowing there?”

Instead of answering, she flips the camera and you see the mix of leaves and snowflakes falling.

As beautiful as National City is, you admit you miss the weather in New York. The snow and leaves falling added to the holiday spirit. The white and shades of red screamed Thanksgiving.

“You could always come back, at least for the day.” Your friend says, the camera turning back.

With a shake of your head, you tell her,“ I’d never make it back in time. Besides, Lena insisted I spend the day with her.”

The brunette wiggles her eyebrows playfully. Only for her jaw to drop at the expression on your face.“ Oh my god you like her!”

“What? No.” You try to play it off with a laugh.

Good ole Wanda though, she can read you like a book(without the powers).“ That’s why you were so eager to go back to NC. You have a crush!”

“No I-” do you?

The idea isn’t far fetched. Lena’s an incredibly attractive woman. Intelligent, caring, ambitious, funny, genuine. But you have far too much going on with your emotions to even consider liking someone. Right?

Were you not just telling Natasha how much it sucks to see her with Bruce? How could you go from hating to see that to suddenly liking someone? Is that really how your emotions are choosing to work?

Escaping the onslaught of thoughts, you find Wanda smirking at you.“ You like her.” She says with a nod and smile.

“Doesn’t matter whether I do or not. There’s too much going on for me to be exploring something like that.”

She scoffs,“ yeah right. As we speak you’re on vacation. There’s no greater time to explore. And if you like her, you deserve to pursue it. If anyone should get a chance at happiness, it’s you.”

Damn. Could you have asked for a better best friend?

“Have I told you that you’re one of the few things I’m thankful for Wan?”

Blushing a little, she tells you,“ you hadn’t but I knew already. I’m thankful for you too, I-” a sudden swirl of emotions race through her eyes, red magic flickering with it,“ I don’t know what I would’ve done without you these last few years.”

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, but I’m glad I could be there for you.”

It’s quiet on her end for a moment before she can pull a smile,“ love you Y/n, Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Love you too Wan and Happy Thanksgiving.”

With an over exaggerated kiss blown to the screen, Wanda hangs up, the lingering picture of her smiling face on your screen before it goes back to the generic wallpapered home screen.

You take a second to yourself, eyes trained on the city outside.

There may not be any snow, but NC definitely has its own way of showing the holiday spirit. In that, a lot of the skyscrapers have large light displays on them. And where there are trees, the orange, red, and yellow leaves fell from them.

Eventually, you get up to get ready. Taking a shower and putting on an outfit that reflects the season and holiday.

Having everything you need, you call a car, waiting for it in the lobby with a cup of coffee. Once in the car, you let Lena know you’re on your way.

It leaves you a little unnerved when she doesn’t reply as fast as usual. In fact she doesn’t reply at all but her doorman let’s you up so you know she’s home.

When she pulls her door open and you take in her slightly frazzled state you frown.

“Should I have waited to come by? Is everything okay?”

Lena’s heart melts at the worried expression on your face, a smile forming,“ no it’s fine I just, I forgot most restaurants are closed on Thanksgiving.”

A gasp leaves your lips,“ Miss Luthor,” you press a hand to your chest,“ take out is not a proper Thanksgiving meal.”

Her mouth opens to reply but seeing your expression has her keeping it to herself.

The few nights you’d spent here, you know Lena doesn’t keep her fridge and cupboards stocked.“ Come on, we’re going shopping.”

Lena will admit, she had a bit of a slow moment, wondering what shopping would do to solve the food issue. Arriving at the store though, she realizes you meant grocery shopping.

Walking around the store with you pushing the cart is probably the most domestic thing Lena’s done in a long time. She finds herself falling in deeper with you as she sees how, almost childlike you are: riding on the cart every so often, throwing completely unnecessary snacks inside, and doing small little celebratory fist pumps when you find exactly what you need.

“Okay,” Lena breaks the quiet,“ are you secretly a chef outside of being an Avenger?”

Currently the two of you stand in her kitchen, smooth jazz playing through the room’s speakers, Lena’s usual glass of wine on the counter mere inches from your glass of bourbon, as you prepare dinner. Admittedly Lena isn’t all that good at cooking, so she’s slightly fascinated with how easily you move about.

You raise an eyebrow, fingers sprinkling seasoning over the Cornish Hens,“ what’d you mean?”

“I just- you seem to be really good at this.” She gestures to you and the spread of food in front of you.

Shrugging, you tell her,“ I just learned from my dad. He literally taught me everything I know.”

There goes that tone again. Your voice sounding far off. You reminiscing.

You slide the pan into the oven, setting a timer, and looking back with a smile, nodding for Lena to come over.

She stands at your side, arms brushing with every move as you raise the lid off the skillet, steam rising from it,“ now don’t go sharing this recipe with anyone Miss Luthor.”

The CEO chuckles,“ well if it’s good I’ll have to capitalize on it.”

You laugh, eyes shutting with the action. So you miss the look Lena gives you, pride at being the reason you’re laughing and a longing to make that smile last.

From there you tell and show her the way you’d been taught to make yams: nutmeg, brown sugar, vanilla flavor, and butter. Then turning them over so the seasonings reach all the vegetables.

Grabbing a smaller spoon, you scoop some of it up, and hold it out to her. A hum of approval leaves Lena’s lips at the taste of it.

“That’s incredible.”

You watch the way her tongue runs over her lips, catching the remnants of the food, and resisting the urge to reach out and run your thumb across the pink muscle.

Opting to nod and jokingly say,” oh I know.”

She laughs with a shake of her head.

It goes like that as you continue to cook. Once a dish is done, you give Lena a taste and she tells you how great it is. Until you’re setting it all out on the table in front of where Lena set out the plates and silverware.

You both fix your plates and refill your drinks before sitting down.

“I’ll admit, this is a million times better than take out.”

While you hadn’t mentioned it before, you have to now,“ please tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve had a home cooked meal for Thanksgiving.”

The CEO shrugs, a sad smile covering her lips as she says,“ well I’ve spent the last two in my office.”

You raise your eyebrows,“ and before then?”

“Meals were made by the chefs. And holidays with my family were usually, well awkward. With the tension between myself and my mother and Lex’s silence. . .”

Reaching over, you cover her hand with yours,“ family can be tough. But from what I’ve seen it seems you have a decent one.”

The brunette looks at you quizzically. Did you not hear what she just said?

“Not the Luthors,” you clarify,“ I mean your chosen family. Kara, Alex, everyone else. They care a lot about you and you love them too.”

Lena smiles fondly at that. It’s true.“ And here I’ve yet to see your family, related and chosen.”

“As far as my given family goes, it’s just me and a few distant cousins. My mom was never around much and my dad passed years ago. Right after I’d graduated college actually.”

There’s the confirmation of her thoughts. Though she wishes it’d come at a different time.

She tries to lighten the mood,“ chosen?”

“Also complicated,” you chuckle,“ there’s all kinds of dynamics going around with them but we have each other’s backs in the end. I’d give my life for everyone one of them.”

“Anyone in particular?” She finds herself having to ask.

Praying silently that there isn’t. At least not in the way she’s referring to.

You nod with a smile,“ Wanda. She’s my best friend. A sister really. We’ve been close since she joined the team.”

She smiles for two reasons. One: you’re single. Two: it’s cute that you have someone like that.

Throughout dinner you both joke and talk about lighter topics. Despite the numerous looks you give each other, neither of you catch it.

When dinner is over(and leftovers are put away) you tackle the dishes and then move to the living room with your dessert.

“Okay, apple cheesecake. Never knew I needed it.” She says with a chuckle.

Your eyes widen in agreement,“ I know right. Apart from strawberry and classic New York, it’s my favorite.”

“I’m going to need you to make both of those for me, for research purposes.” She adds the last bit with a wink.

Laughing makes you lean just a little closer and Lena loves it. A quiet buzzing grabs yours and Lena’s attention.

The woman pulling her phone out.“ Speaking of desserts, my chosen family has an abundance of it and has invited us over.”

“Ooo, yes, I love desserts.”

She smiles at you in amusement and together you both get ready to leave, Lena insisting that you bring your cheesecake.

Unsurprisingly, christmas music is all over the radio on the drive over. You can’t say you expect anything less.

With Lena at your side, you knock on Kara’s door. The blonde pulling it open in seconds.

“Lena, Y/n, hi.” She hugs the both of you excitedly.

“Thank you for inviting us.” Lena tells her friend.

Stepping into the apartment, without a thought, you’re helping Lena take her coat off as she’s holding your dessert in one hand. With a blush, she thanks you, and you miss the wiggle of Kara’s eyebrows in her direction.

Mon-El throws a hi your way and everyone else does the same.“ Do I see more desserts?” He leaps up, happily making his way over.

You accept the quick handshake he gives before looking over your shoulder to the pan in Lena’s hands.“ Yeah, Lena says my cheesecake is to die for and it’d be a crime not to share it.”

The CEO’s jaw drops,“ I did not-” her elbow nudges your arm with a laugh,“ I didn’t say all that.”

Placing a hand on her shoulder you smile,“ but I could tell that’s what you really meant.”

“So cute.”

Your eyebrows pinch together at Kara’s mumbled words. You and Lena? Could she see your crush on the woman as clearly as Wanda had? Is it that obvious?

Figuring she didn’t intend for anyone to hear that, you refrain from commenting. Instead walking with Mon-El to the kitchen island.

“I never asked but what is it that you do?” Mon-El asks, head tilting in a way you’d seen Kara do a number of times.

You accept the glass of water he passes you,“ I’m a weapons specialist for the Avengers, occasionally moonlighting as a hero.”

“Me too.” His eyes widen as does yours.

“You’re a superhero?”

The man’s eyes widen, uncertainty flickering through his eyes as they search yours. Then he chuckles and nods,“ yeah. Super being Alien. I’m from Daxam.”

“Daxam.” You’d heard of plenty of planets, never that one.“ Where is Daxam? I’ve been to a few galaxies and planets, I’ve never heard of Daxam.”

He thinks for a moment,“ I’m not sure what galaxy it would be in but it orbited Rao.”

“Rao? Is that like another planet or a sun?”

Suddenly Kara appears at Mon-El’s side,“ what’re we talking about?”

You send a glance to Mon-El, wondering if Kara already knows. His nod and pursed lips tells you she does.“ Mon-El was just telling me about Daxam and the-”

“Star.”

“The star it orbits.”

It’s hard to place the expression on Kara’s face. Mainly because it’s a mix of a few emotions.“ Are you not surprised?”

You shrug,“ I am, just, well I’ve dealt with a number of aliens. Not many of them were good guys.”

Mon-El smiles widely, a matching one on Kara’s face. Little did you know, hearing that from you makes the blonde consider telling you about her heroic alter-ego.

Before she can mention it though, Winn comes sliding over, arms wrapping around you. Looking at him, you see the silverware hanging from his mouth.

Patting his shoulder, you pull back a little,“ hey buddy, what’s goin on?”

“This cheesecake is amazing.” His words come out with a little lisp due to the object in his mouth but you laugh nonetheless.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Finally he steps back and nods.“ How bout you show me where the rest of these desserts are.”

Together the two of you step over to the dining table where there’s a decent amount of desserts. You just have to put some of each on your plate.

When you plop down beside Lena she’s already wearing an expression of amusement. Looking at her, you smile softly,“ want some?” Her look of uncertainty makes you chuckle. Scooping a piece of pie up, you hold it towards her.

Hesitantly she leans in and eats the sweet. Your eyes once again drawn to the way she licks her lips then back to her green orbs.

“That’s really good.”

You quickly eat a bite,“ oh wow, it is.”

“So!” All eyes snap to Kara as she walks over with the guys,“ we did this earlier but a few of us weren’t here so we’re going to do it again.” The woman sits on the arm of Mon-El’s chair.“ What are you thankful for?”

Starting with herself, it goes around the room, until it gets to you.“ I am thankful for old friends and new,” you smile at the already smiling people around you,“ I haven’t known you guys long but you all mean a lot to me and I’m incredibly grateful to have met you all.”

Not being able to help herself, Kara throws her arms around you. Which incites Winn to hug the both of you and that just ends in a big group hug that dissolves in laughter.

* * * * *

Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @marvel-wlw @aznblossom @chicken-wang09 @bitchtits15

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dcu #dcu x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #all over again

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hatterstan-shameblog · 3 years ago

Note

Smut, you say 👀

You're this cute, kinda innocent woman that gets the help of this handsome gigolo to not be as... innocent.

💕 The Professional: Chapter 1 💕

Chapter Two

Rating: PG-13 (for this chapter only)

Pairing: Danma Takeru (Hatter)/Reader (she/her

Tags: flirting, suggestive conversation, alcohol consumption, smoking, kissing

“Well, darling,” he says, voice low and smooth and so much closer than before, “I think it’s high time we got to the heart of the issue. The root of the root and the bud of the bud, as it were.”

“Uh,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this but very much enjoying his simple touches, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering,” he clarifies, pausing to let out a soft sigh, “when you’re going to give in and kiss me.”

Notes: This is a kind-of sort-of AU—in the show, Hatter references his involvement with the host club business, and mentions that he “would do anything” to be the best. Although host clubs do not usually involve sex work (as far as I know), I believe that he would definitely offer that “off the books” in order to win over his clientele.

You’re nervous. Nervous and jittery and—oh, dear, there’s a lot of feelings going on in here, and all of them seem to fall under the umbrella of ‘mild to moderate discomfort.’ Not that feeling uncomfortable is anything new; in fact, there are very few times where you happen to feel truly comfortable outside of, say, the warmth of your bed or the soothing calm of a late-night bath. Places where you feel safe. Places where you can let yourself breathe and be, unhindered by expectation.

The place where you currently find yourself—this strange little pocket of a room in the buzz and bustle of a Friday-night Kabukicho—is full-to-bursting with expectation. From the polished wood floors to the glittering gold chandelier that hangs from the center of the ceiling, there is an inescapable sense of opulent whimsy that is tinged pink with a blush of sensuality. There are even fresh flowers on the table in front of you—a vase of ranunculus, blooming bright and orange like a green-stalked bunch of tiny setting suns.

Something like an itch tickles your sweat-damp palms, making you ball your hands into tight fists around the fabric of your skirt. Oh, you should have worn something different! Something sexier, maybe, with a deeper neckline and a shorter hem, that hugged the shape of your body as opposed to ghosting over it in fluttering chiffon. Not that you actually, you know, owned anything like that, but—

The pop! of a champagne cork makes you jump. Hell, you feel like you’re about to pop, too, from the nervous energy boiling and swelling in your chest. It’s so very difficult not to fidget, to keep your toes from tapping out a frantic little rhythm on the rug.

Looking back, you realize that the paperwork had been the ‘easy’ part. Not that it had been particularly easy—who knew there would be an application process for this kind of thing?—but it was less stressful to fill out a (surprisingly comprehensive) questionnaire in the privacy of your own home as opposed to this agonizing waiting.

And what, exactly, are you waiting for?

Why, you’re waiting for him.

His name is Takeru—or, at least, that’s what he’s asked you to call him. Whether or not it’s a stage name is difficult to tell; but what you do know is that it sounded so very nice in the deep clear of his voice. The only thing that sounded better was your name, which he said in a gently-sultry half-whisper that made you feel…many thing, and not all of them innocent.

In a devastatingly well-tailored suit of lipstick red—a vibrant pop of a color you would so often consider buying at the makeup counter but always put back—it’s nearly impossible to look at anything but him. A small collection of rings glisten from his fingers, most of them delicate little things that wink a tiny gleam when the light hits them just right. The dizzying black-white-gold pattern of his shirt is unbuttoned just a smidge too low, offering you a tantalizing view of his chest.

And although his back is toward you, concocting some kind of magic at the bar cart along the far wall, you can all but feel the warm-dark of his eyes on you. Oh, he has beautiful eyes, dark and warm with the glitter of laughter—or perhaps mischief, if the situation calls for it. A slim nose leads down to a shapely mouth, handsomely framed by a neatly-trimmed beard and mustache.

Also, his hair—oh, that man has a great head of hair.

Aesthetics aside—he has been undeniably lovely. Slipping the coat from your shoulders when you walked into the room, fingertips skimming the slope of your shoulders with only the barest of touches. Offering you a glass of champagne (“Yes, thank you”) as he leads you to sit on the green velvet settee, hand hovering above but never touching the small of your back. A serene smile on his lips as he talks, as he tells you that your dress is lovely (“Blue is definitely your color, darling”) and letting out an airy chuckle when you mention that this was as good occasion as any to dig it out of the back of your closet.

It is impossible to ignore the way he is so very provocative—subtly so, in a way that makes you second-guess whether his flirtations had happened at all. Did his eyes really linger over the shape of your legs, or was he simply taking a moment to admire your (new, very cute) shoes? Did his fingertips slip over the curve of your shoulder as he removed your coat, or were you just imagining it?

His gaze tiptoes over your shape as he sits down beside you, two flutes of pink-tinged something in hands.

“I’ve taken the liberty of making something a little special,” he says, “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as he hands you one of the glasses, “it…it looks nice.”

“Know what it is?”

“Uh,” you say after a moment of silent deliberation, “Maybe alcohol?”

He huffs a short laugh at your half-joke—a rather polite response, and it manages to soothe the bubble of regret that had risen up your throat the moment you’d said it.

“You’re not wrong. More specifically, though, it’s a Kir Royale—or, my take on one, at the very least,” he watches the bubbles fizzle to the top of the glass, “I find myself more or less incapable of keeping with convention, even when it comes to alcohol.”

“Well, uh,” you say, “it’s pretty. I like the color.”

You taste the drink, bubbles like tiny fireworks tickling over the surface of your tongue. There is a dry bitterness, no doubt from the champagne, but it’s softened by a fruity sweetness. Something familiar, something that reminds you of summer and shaved ice and walks along the river and—

“Cherry,” you say, half-lost in the hazy-warm memory of days gone by—until you remember where you are and snap back to reality, “it’s, uh, it tastes like cherries.”

“Very good. Usually, the drink calls for creme de cassis, but I used Kijafa instead. It’s a dessert wine from Denmark, made from cherries,” his brow raises just a smidge, “I thought it appropriate, given the situation.”

And it takes you a minute to understand what he’s talking about. Cherries. You. Ah. A rather crass comparison, but accurate all the same.

“Oh,” you say, picking a very uninteresting spot on the rug to look at in an attempt to avoid meeting his eyes, “I, uh…”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he adds, “In fact, virginity isn’t even a real thing. Completely made up. Means nothing, really.”

There is a kind of lag—he’s speaking, you know he’s speaking, but it takes your brain a few extra seconds to figure out what he’s actually saying. It’s strange, hearing someone talk to you so openly about sex. Not unwelcome, by any means, but you need a moment (or two, or ten) to adjust.

“That being said,” he continues, as if he’s discussing the weather, “just because it doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of life doesn’t mean it’s nothing to you.”

He’s fishing. He’s fishing, and you kind of want to take the bait, but…well, you’re finding it difficult to get your thoughts in order. He’s the very picture of calm, all while you’re floundering over a simple conversation.

“Apologies if I’ve overstepped,” he says, taking a slow sip of his drink, “I thought you might prefer to talk it over a bit. ”

“No, uh, you’re fine,” you answer quickly, “I’m just…I thought the paperwork kind of covered all that.”

“More or less,” he answers, “however, I’ve found that the person who fills out the forms and the person who ends up sitting across from me are not always of the same mind.”

He reaches a hand into the inside of his jacket and pulls out a silver-plated cigarette case. Although he is not gentleman enough to ask your permission to smoke, he is gentleman enough to offer you a cigarette before taking one of his own. You decline. He shrugs and quickly snaps the case shut before laying it on the table.

“In fact, it’s not uncommon for my clients to have a complete change of heart the second they walk through the door,” he continues, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, “Or, sometimes later on, for that matter. Depends on the person.”

Cigarette held between his teeth, he retrieves a lighter from his right trouser pocket. With a sharp little snick, he ignites it, pulling the little orange flame towards his face and hiding it behind his hand to let it catch.

“Really?”

You watch him intently, the way his eyelids flutter closed at the first inhale. The way his lips pucker around the filter and release, the red-pink sticking slightly as they pull away and let smoky white flow out and fade into the air.

“Really,” he confirms, “once, I had a client step inside, take one look at me, and promptly walk right back out. Never saw them again, which is fine. I’ll never fault someone for doing what’s right for themselves.”

“Are you, uh, trying to talk me out of it?”

“Not at all. Just making you aware of your options,” he says, “Doing anything for the first time is scary. Driving a car, swimming in the ocean, traveling abroad—sex is no different.”

“Yeah, well,” you respond, “you also get to do most of those things with your clothes on, so…”

“Depends on who you’re with.”

You can’t help but laugh a little.

“Well I still want to…you know,” you answer, “uh, do it. The…the sex part.”

“I’m happy to hear it.”

“Yeah, well, you’re supposed to say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he insists, “I can’t imagine anyone being upset at the thought of having a pretty thing like you in their bed.”

“I’m not—“

“Don’t,” he interrupts, taking on a tone that brokers no arguments, “I will suffer many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. You are an attractive woman and I refuse to be told otherwise.”

“Sorry, I,” you say sheepishly, “I guess I just…wasn’t expecting you to…like me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his cigarette and takes another long, slow drag, “You’re very sweet. A bit shy, maybe, but I happen to like the shy ones.”

And there is something about the way he says it, the way his voice wraps around the words—oh, there are implications to those words, and you find yourself growing warm at the thought of what exactly those implications could entail.

You sip your drink. He smokes. The quiet between you is almost comfortable. Maybe it’s the alcohol working it’s bubbly magic, but you’re starting to feel a bit more at ease in this strange little place.

Moreover, you’re starting to feel a bit more at ease with him. The thought of kissing him crosses your mind, then doubles-back and crosses it again. Oh, that sounds nice. He would be good at it, too; starting gently, mouth pressed soft and sure against your own, and then just the tiniest tease of his tongue—

“And there you go, biting your lip again,” he says, snapping you out of your impromptu fantasy, “You have no idea how sexy that is, do you?”

He is sporting a devilish grin—not only is he aware that you had been daydreaming about him, but he’s relishing the fact that he was able to catch you so off-guard.

“Didn’t even realize I was doing it,” you admit with a shrug. But you can’t help but feel a thrill at the thought of being considered ‘sexy’—you never really let yourself feel that way, but now that it’s happening…oh, it’s nice.

“It’s absolutely delicious, darling. Makes me wonder what else you do when you’re turned on…”

And he’s got you—like a knife held under your chin, his sharp gaze pins you in place. He is impossible to avoid. Not that you particularly want to avoid him—there’s something irresistible about this man, something that you can’t quite name but definitely want more of.

It’s scary.

It’s exciting.

“I’m,” you say with a nervous chuckle, “not really sure, myself. Guess we’ll have to, uh, figure it out together.”

His gaze darkens. He takes one last lungful of nicotine before stubbing out his cigarette.

“I suppose we shall.”

And he’s moving now, sliding himself down so that he’s closer to you. He stops when there is barely an inch of space between the outside of his thigh and your own. His right arm has draped itself over the back of the sofa, the fingertips of his hand now skimming the skin of your shoulder in loose, mindless sweeps.

“Uh,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this but very much enjoying his simple touches, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering,” he clarifies, pausing to let out a soft sigh, “when you’re going to give in and kiss me.”

He plucks the champagne flute from your grasp and sets it on the table in front of you.

“I, uh—“

The fingertips on your shoulder continue to make their idle little circles, almost hypnotic in their swirling pattern. His left hand catches your right wrist, his thumb pressing above where your pulse thrums beneath sensitive skin.

“Bit fast,” he observes, pulling your arm closer as if inspecting it, “Could be nerves, but I think it’s more from excitement, don’t you?”

You have no choice but to lean into him as he brings your hand closer. Your shoulder presses against his arm, and you feel the solid shape of him through the smooth of his suit. He’s strong underneath all of those layers—warm, too, judging from the heat that radiates from his person.

“I’m—“

The thumb that had been testing your pulse inches higher, stopping when it’s pressing into the center of your palm. His eyes lock with yours, a heartbeat of a moment, and brings your wrist closer and closer until his lips are ghosting over your flesh. When he finally decides to make contact, you gasp—it’s a delicate sensation, but sends your heart skipping in a shaking staccato.

And, then.

Then he sucks.

The sound you make is halfway between an oh of surprise and a desperate little moan—oh, wow, that’s really weirdly unexpectedly hot—and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed by your own reaction. He’s not even doing much, not really; just a little bit of pressure, lips parted just enough to let his tongue slip out and have a taste of you.

But, oh, it feels…it feels filthy, it feels decadent, it feels like something you should not be doing but very much want to keep doing for the rest of your life. Takeru’s eyes have since fluttered shut, and he hums the tiniest sound of pleasure as he maintains his seductive tease.

“Please,” you manage to sigh, sounding as breathless as you feel, “please, I, I want you to kiss me.”

His lips release from your wrist with a pucker-pop noise—which was no doubt intentional on his part, and does nothing to quell the thrill of desire in your belly.

“Hm. I’ll make you a deal,” he says, shifting a bit to the left so that he can turn to face you better, “I’ll kiss you for the rest of the night, but right now…you kiss me.”

And what a deal that is—you don’t even have to think about it, head bobbing in an affirmative nod as you wet your lips in anticipation. The hand that had so lovingly held yours is now guiding you to rest your palm just above his knee. You reflexively reach your other hand out to steady yourself, and it lands against his chest before you can stop it.

He’s so close now. There’s barely any space between your faces, barely room to breathe—

“Go on, darling,” he whispers, “if you want me, have me.”

And you do.

You kiss him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The anxiety that has plagued you since the moment you entered the room hasn’t completely dissipated—it would be foolish to think it’d be that easy to banish those feelings completely—but all that is now secondary to the feeling of his mouth on yours.

Kissing Takeru is warm. It’s soft and it’s sure and it’s…comfortable, in a way. Safe, even. He does not press, doesn’t do much of anything except mirror the way your lips slide against his own. A gentle rhythm, a push and pull between the two of you that feels as natural as the moon guiding the tides to shore—yes, kissing him is good and right and something you want to do many times over.

Unfortunately, you have to pull away to breathe. He doesn’t let you go far, though, one hand cupped behind the nape of your neck and the other pressing into the small of your back.

“Oh, you are sweet,” he purrs, his gaze dropping to your freshly-kissed lips, “and, seeing that I’m a man of my word…”

As it turns out, being kissed by Takeru might be better than kissing him, yourself. He is still so very careful when he presses his lips to yours, but this time…this time, there’s fire. He tastes like the best part of a cigarette, like warmth and alcohol and cherries, and it only intensifies as he tests the seam of your lips with his tongue.

Little by little, you begin to test him, too. Hands cradle the curve of his jaw, feeling the way his face shifts as he moves against you. Fingertips run through the soft dark of his hair—oh, he likes that, if the half-sigh that slips from his throat is to be believed. And when you nip at his lower lip with your teeth (he had, after all, very much enjoyed the way you bit your lip earlier), he genuinely moans and pulls you even closer to himself.

It’s when he begins to wander lower, with his mouth skimming the sensitivity of your neck and his hand splayed across your lower back in a way that flirts with the idea of indecency, that you begin to want more. Fear—and maybe that’s not exactly the right word for what you’re feeling, but it’s the only one that comes to mind—begins to creep up the column of your spine.

The “what-if’s” start filling your brain; what if you mess something up? What if you do something he doesn’t like? What if you freeze up later and—

“Alright, darling?”

His voice is a low soothe against your ear; he’s retreated, just a bit, and his hand has wandered to a chaste and respectable area of your mid-back.

“I—“

You want him to take you to bed. You want him to take off your dress and kiss you in all the places you thought weren’t worth kissing, to let his hands trace sparks along the curves of your shape and let him be close to you in a way that no one else has. You want him, despite the uncertain ache that burns between your ribs and bids you to hide yourself away and leave behind the pleasure of his touch.

…But all you can manage is a nervous glance to the bed behind you (the one you had been avoiding thinking about up until this point) and a stammered “Can we, uh…?”

“Ask me,” he says, his index and middle fingers idly skimming the notch in your collarbone, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you ask me.”

It’s difficult to make eye contact with him—every time you try, you feel embarrassment swell up beneath your tongue.

But Takeru is, as you have come to learn over the last hour or so, decidedly patient. He shows no sign of relenting, appearing to be perfectly content with giving you an expectant grin and continuing his little touches as you try not to squirm in your seat.

“I,” you gulp, “I want…“

You bite your lip—oh, wait, he likes that too, and he’s staring at you with those sharp and sultry eyes, and it makes something behind your heart squeeze and unsqueeze itself and punches the air from your lungs and—

“Take me to bed,” you manage to spit out, and it all sounds like one word with how quickly you pushed the words into the air. The “uh, please” you tack on at the end is an afterthought, but perhaps it’s polite enough to pass muster.

“Was that so hard,” Takeru asks with a good-natured chuckle, “but since you asked so nicely…”

He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips for a kiss—and even that, after everything, still has you feeling a flutter of something giddy in your stomach.

“Darling,” he says, “it would be my pleasure.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

…and now, you’ll have to wait until chapter two to get to the “good stuff!”

It’s been a challenge writing this—I’m trying to make the scenario believable while still keeping it vague enough to allow for people to make up their own little details. It’s also been unexpectedly difficult to write him, since he’s kind of being himself while also playing a character who’s trying to mold themself into their client’s fantasy…it’s a lot of layers, but it’s been fun trying to figure things out!

#alice in borderland #hatter #danma takeru #writings and such #spicy boy #alice in borderland netflix #takeru danma #we did it fellas. we finally wrote the first chapter.#I’ve been working on this for WEEKS #now to write the actual spicy stuff lol oh geez

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, a chris e x reader where reader owns a cafe in Boston and he loves to cone there mainly to see her but is hesitant to tell her that he likes her because there’s a some age gap between the r and Chris 😅🥰😘

Ooooo I love this request!!! I hope you like it! 🖤☕️

💌.

Coffee Talks

The chilly autumn winds of Boston breezed against your cheeks. Unlocking the doors to your cafe, you took a deep breath in, inhaling the familiar rich aroma of coffee. You’ll never get tired of it honesty. Locking the doors behind you, you made your way towards the back of the cafe to put your personal belongings away. After clocking in for the day, you went out to the front to brew some coffee for the early wave of customers. You laid out some pre-made pastries onto a baking sheet and put them into the oven. You turned the radio on making the whole cafe feel more alive. As Harry Style’s voice echoed throughout the cafe, Henry, the delivery guy knocked on the door.

“Mornin’ (y/n)!” He greeted you after you unlocked the door. He pushed the cart of boxes filled with cakes and other treats into the cafe.

“Right back at ya, Henry. Early morning today, huh?” You asked as you helped him unload the boxes from the cart. Usually Henry would make his delivery around 7 am, it was currently 6:30 am.

“Yeah, I’ve got a half day today. Have some wedding planning with the missus before she goes all bridezilla.” He joked as he dusted his hands off.

“That’s great! I’ll get you a coffee to take with you for the day.” Before Henry could even protest you were already behind the counter pouring some coffee into a large cup. When you were done you handed it to him with a smile. Henry pulled out his wallet but was stopped by you.

“Henry, it’s on the house.” You tell him.

“You know, you never let me pay for coffee, and that’s not good for your business.” He tuts playfully. Even though he would insist on paying for his coffee every morning, you never let him. The man got up at the ass crack of dawn to deliver cakes and such for cafes, it was the least you can do to make his day better.

“I don’t mind. You need the coffee to keep you going, Henry. Now get outta ‘ere, you’ve got some delivering to do.” You say. Henry playfully rolls his eyes and takes a $10 bill out his wallet, shoving it into the tip jar.

“He—“

“Take it, you’ve been giving me too many free coffees.” He reassures you before leaving the cafe. You yell a “have a nice day” to him before the door closes.

You loved your job. In fact you were your own boss and had your own cafe in Boston. Not too far from the main streets but in a quieter area where people still passed by. You’re currently in college studying Business and Management to help you with the cafe. Some wondered how you were still in college while managing a whole business.

The building is owned by your Uncle, he’s a realtor who also had some properties on the side. He was about to sell the store building but decided against it after he overheard you talking about starting your own business. A few years later and here you were. Your cafe was flourishing and had many loyal customers, every other day there would be some new customers who would stop by because the outside looked cute or claimed that someone suggested it to them (which always made your heart swell in joy). Though there were many loyal customers, one in particular seemed to always catch your eye.

🕓 Time Skip

The morning rush had passed and it was now lunch time. Unlike most of the customers that bought their coffee to go in the mornings, lunch time customers hung around the cafe for an hour or so. Which you enjoyed because there were always customers who would greet you as you passed by.

The sound of the bell on the door rang over the music and chatter of the cafe. You were working the cash register today while the others were taking orders, restocking pastries, or cleaning tables. You looked up from the register after finishing the previous customer’s order. You were greeted by the familiar ocean eyes you anticipated to see everyday.

“Hey stranger.” You teasingly greeted him.

“Hey, how’s your day going?” A smile formed on his lips as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“My day’s going great now that my favorite customer’s here.” You winked.

“Oh please. You’re too kind.”

“So your usual, Chris?” You asked after realizing a line was starting to form behind the tall man. Chris came by the cafe almost everyday. You see, he was an actor and would go away for a few months to film movies. But whenever he was in town he would always stop by.

Chris’ “usual” consisted of a regular coffee with a dash of caramel syrup and a croissant.

“Yup. Can you add in a cake pop?” He answered as he looked at the glass cases that displayed the treats.

“Of course. $8.50.” He handed over his card and you swiped it.

“Thanks, (y/n).” He said after you hand over his card and receipt. Before he can walk away from the register he asks, “Can you stop by my table when you’re not busy?”

“Uh, yeah sure.” You answer and he walks away with a smile. You found it strange that he would ask you to come over because you always stopped by his table. You two always talked whenever he was there. Whether it be about a new project of his, one of your classes, or about your days.

🕓 Time Skip

A few minutes had gone by before Jade insisted on taking over the register. You make your way towards the back of the cafe to see Chris nervously fiddling with a wrapper. He always sat near the back, it was more secluded and he had a lower chance of getting noticed.

“Hey.” You greeted him softly as you sat down in the seat across from him. His head snapped up at the sound of your voice.

“Hey, doll. Here.” He smiled and pushed the wrapper that contained the cake pop.

“You don’t want it?” You asked before you can take the cake pop out.

“No, I got it for you. You’re always snacking on something whenever we talk so I thought I should get you a treat this time.” He shrugged and sat up in his seat. You thanked him and took the cake pop out.

“So what’s up?”

“Uh. I just wanted to say I appreciate our talks here at the cafe and I enjoy talking to you a lot.” He began to say. You nodded along for him to continue, though he hesitated. You’ve known Chris for almost a year now. You considered him a friend since you guys always shared things about your lives during your coffee talks. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Because you sure as hell did and he had an amazing personality to go along with his charming looks.

“I appreciate our talks too, Chris. It’s one of the things I look forward to whenever you’re around.” You hum in response. Chris slightly freezes and just stares at you. A light blush forming on his pale cheeks.

“I’m not saying I don’t like talking to you in the cafe because I like it here. It’s very cozy and the atmosphere is very relaxing. You also make really great coffee and your taste in music is really great. You’re great.” He began to ramble causing your eyebrows to scrunch in confusion.

“I appreciate the compliments, Chris. But I don’t think I get where you’re trying to go with this conversation.” You interject making him stop. He sighs and leans forward keeping eye contact with you.

“I’m saying that I would like to talk to you outside of the cafe. Maybe on a date or something.” He confessed. You eyes widened for a bit. You never expected Chris to ask you out. Because of the age gap between you two you thought he would be more into women his age. Not that it bothered you.

When you remained silent, Chris groaned and sat back in his chair.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to say yes, I probably just made you uncomfortable too. Shit.” He groaned cringing at himself.

“No, wait!” You finally snapped out of your thoughts. “I’m just shocked you would ask me out, I didn’t expect you to find me interesting.” You explained.

“What do you mean? You’re one of the most inspiring women I’ve met. You’re balancing your classes at college and running your own business! Not everyone can do that!” His hands waving in the air as he talked.

“I mean I thought you were into women your age, if you haven’t noticed I’m a few years younger than you.” You mentioned.

“Well, does it make you uncomfortable to be with someone like me? If so, you could say no, I respect your decision.” He acknowledged. You smiled at him and shook your head.

“No, I’m comfortable with the age gap. It doesn’t bother me at all.” You confirm. Chris visibly takes a deep breath in and relaxes himself.

With a playful grin on his lips he leans forward again and asks, “So, does that mean you’ll go on a date with me?”

“Yes, Chris I’ll go on a date with you.” You playfully roll your eyes, though a smile were on your face.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #chris evans #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #cevans #chris evans imagines #christopher robert evans #steve rogers x reader #chris evans one shot #chris evans headcanon #ally’s requests

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gureishi · 4 years ago

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Ohhhh, requests? Requests!!!! ❤️

We all know and love SE and the Choi family (Mc, Saeyoung and Saeran living together in the bunker).... But what about. Other way arround?

Saeran after ending, with saeran and saeyoung making amends, and you finally befriending and getting to know the true person behind 707.

Im happy with whatever ideas you have for this, but if you need more guidance... A scene between saeyoung and Mc, talking? Saeyoung thanking mcfor making saeran happy and feeling like he failed as a brother for not protecting him, and mc being all sweet as she is reassuring him that it's OK and that they are happy now and just fluffy??????

Gosh, I wrote a lot, sorry.

Oh wow. I ADORE this request. Thank you for bringing me this sweet idea. ♡

I love envisioning their lives together post-AE, and it was so much for fun me to imagine this tiny little slice of that.

after

Saeyoung & Reader (platonic); Saeran X Reader (background), G, words: 2355

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Today there’s one of those early-winter snows where the flurries get stuck in your hair but the ground’s not white and beautiful, just cold and damp. The parking lot is nearly empty—apparently no one else wanted to go out today. Personally, you can’t understand why. You love the way the sky’s a bright white and how the biting wind makes the tips of your ears pink.

Saeyoung, who’s been walking a few paces ahead of you, turns around in time to see you stop and catch a snowflake on your tongue. He raises his eyebrows; he’s got his hood up and there’s a light dusting of snow on top of his head, like powdered sugar.

“I was gonna ask if you regretted coming along now that it’s snowing, but I guess I have my answer.” He’s got a complicated look on his face, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to laugh at you or not.

“I have no regrets!” you sing, and then he does laugh, shaking his head indulgently.

“Come on,” he says. “Your shoes are getting wet.”

“Your shoes are getting wet. Also your head. Who goes to the store in just a hoodie in the winter?” But you run to catch up with him, splashing in the little puddles that have collected in the uneven pavement.

“It was the hoodie or the floor-length pink fur coat, so I went for the hoodie,” he says, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

The automatic doors slide open for you; he grabs a shopping cart from the assortment parked just inside the door. You walk beside him, feeling a little awkward. Grocery store etiquette, you think, is such a personal thing. Saeran, for instance, likes to go slowly through the store, lingering in each area—looking for inspiration, sometimes checking recipes on his phone. You like to move through the store at random, picking out items that strike your fancy. These methods work surprisingly well together—perhaps because Saeran finds it charming when you come running up to him with a strange new fruit in your arms.

Saeyoung, it seems, has neither a list nor a plan. He pushes the shopping cart lazily with one hand, heading vaguely toward the nearest aisle. You’re tempted to guide him in one direction or another, but you also don’t want to be a nuisance. This is his shopping trip—he was the one who announced he was going to the store; you were the one who’d insisted on tagging along.

“Are you sure?” he’d asked then, hesitating, one hand already on the doorknob. “You don’t need to! I can get whatever you—”

“I want to,” you’d said firmly, jumping off the couch where you’d been lying with your feet in Saeran’s lap, reading a book. It wasn’t that you needed anything in particular from the grocery store or that you didn’t trust Saeyoung to find whatever was needed for the house (though, in retrospect, it wasn’t that you did trust him, either). It was just…

In the few precious days that you’d been living in the bunker with the brothers—in a world that was suddenly so peaceful you couldn’t quite believe it—you’d begun to realize something: in spite of the hours of phone conversations and chats you’d shared with the enigmatic and charming 707, you actually hardly knew Saeyoung at all.

“So, uhhh,” he begins, a bit uncomfortably. You glance at him askance; his cheeks are pink. “What do we need, anyway?”

You laugh—you can’t help it. “What were you going to buy if I didn’t come with you?”

Saeyoung shrugs, looking down. He’s definitely blushing. “I was gonna…wing it.”

Maybe it’s his inexplicable shyness with you and maybe it’s your genuine love of grocery shopping, but your confidence is bolstered. You take the cart from him and he relinquishes it gratefully, falling into step behind you.

“First we’re going to get produce,” you tell him, and he nods eagerly, bouncing on his heels. He honestly looks excited that you’ve taken the lead; you make a mental note about this. At home, Saeyoung is often in charge—of little things, like what movie you’ll all watch together—because he is boisterously enthusiastic about everything and you and Saeran are more subdued. But here, without his twin, outside of his domain, he is suddenly much less confident.

You select a few types of squash; he watches somewhat reverently. “How do you know what to get?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“Practice, I guess,” you say. “I have in mind a couple of recipes we can make this week, and there are some staples it’s always good to have…” You pause, realizing something, your hands full of squash. “Saeyoung, can I ask you something?”

“What? Yeah!” He responds a little too readily and you know he’s trying to mask his awkwardness. It’s endearing.

“You lived alone for a pretty long time,” you say thoughtfully. You survey the selection of cabbage. “Didn’t you…buy food? To eat?”

He laughs, runs a hand through his already-messy red curls. “God Seven doesn’t need food to live!” he sings, and it’s in the tone of the 707 you’d developed a strange friendship with during those days you were at Mint Eye. You know now that Saeyoung was there, even then, under all that false positivity and diversionary teasing.

“You do, though,” you tell him. You hand him a head of cabbage.

Your firm tone seems to quell him. He looks down at the cabbage.

“I ate snacks, mostly,” he says, a little more quietly. “Sometimes Vanderwood got frustrated and brought me other things to eat.”

You turn away to hide the look in your eyes from him. These poor, poor boys.

“You two!” you explain in mock-frustration, pushing the cart to the next refrigerated shelf. “So you were living on junk food while he was keeping himself alive with caffeine pills. What am I going to do with you?”

Saeyoung bounces behind you, still holding the cabbage.

“Feed us!” he says. You roll your eyes and tear a plastic bag off the role beside the shelves.

“Put the cabbage in the bag,” you tell him. He does.

You gather a few more fruits and vegetables and Saeyoung asks about all of them; you’re amused when he doesn’t know what a persimmon is.

“So besides chips and stuff, then, what do you like to eat?” you ask him, pushing the cart into the large, open area where meat and fish sit on ice, row after chilly row.

Saeyoung hums thoughtfully, peering at a particularly large fish, complete with eyeballs and everything. “This is creepy,” he says. “Can we get it?”

“We…can,” you say. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

He walks a little ahead of you, and he looks at each different type of meat with such curiosity. They’re both like this, you think—so full of wonder over basic, mundane things. Saeran was in awe the first night the three of you settled in on Saeyoung’s huge couch to watch TV together. And now here is Saeyoung—who’s had considerably more freedom than his brother—staring at an assortment of different cuts of meat like he’s in a museum.

“I’m not sure,” he says finally, tilting his head to the side. “I love chips, and, you know, fish-shaped buns…”

“But is there a meal you like? Maybe from, I don’t know, the past…?” You regret the words as soon as they’re out of your mouth.

Saeyoung laughs bitterly. “Not from childhood, if that’s what you mean.”

“Right,” you say. “Yeah. I knew that. I’m sorry.”

He comes back to your side, leans on the cart. “It’s okay,” he tells you. “I don’t mind.”

“Still,” you say. “Sorry.” You steer the cart toward a display of different chicken parts and he pads along beside you—like an obedient dog, you think.

“What’s the difference between…” he bends over, peering at the packages. “Breasts and thighs?”

You giggle. “You tell me.”

You watch as his face turns red, clashing wonderfully with his hair.

“Um, l-let’s get the…thighs, I guess,” he chokes, and you stifle your laughter with your hand.

“Thighs it is.”

He throws the chicken into the cart with his face turned away and you grin. 707 was a tease, but it is easy to fluster Saeyoung.

You move through the aisle of bottled sauces in companionable silence. You hold up a bottle of bottle of soy sauce and he nods enthusiastically; he does the same for the fish sauce and corn syrup. To test him, you hold up a banana ketchup—which you’ve personally never actually tried—and he gives you the same affirmative head bob.

“Saeyoung, do you know what this is?”

He tilts his head to the side, reads the label.

“Banana ketchup? Yum!”

You sigh. “Fine.” You toss it in the cart; maneuver to the next aisle.

“You didn’t even have soy sauce or salt or anything in your house when we moved in,” you say. “There was literally nothing in the cabinets.”

He strolls along beside you, running a finger along the rows of different kinds of pasta. “It never occurred to me.”

“We were kind of surprised,” you add, tossing a big bag of rice into the cart. “We bought a bunch of stuff, before we…left.” You stumble over the words; gears spin frantically in your brain. The words hang heavily in the air between you. Before we left to find you. Before we found you and then lost you again.

He’s silent for a moment and you know he feels the change in atmosphere, the way time seems to have slowed down.

“Hey,” he says finally. He’s got one arm draped over the side of the cart and his posture is a little stiff. “Did I ever thank you? I mean, properly.”

You bite your lip, keep walking. Your face feels hot. Suddenly, you’re not really looking at what’s on the shelves.

“You did,” you say softly. “But I feel I should be the one thanking you. You’re the reason we’re both alive, you know.”

Saeyoung stops, and you almost crash into him. He spins around, and he’s got a hard, determined look in his face. You’ve seen that look before.

“No,” he says. “Nuh-uh. You saved us. You protected him. You did what I didn’t…couldn’t—”

Ah. Your heart’s pounding against your ribcage. Of course it’s here, you think—in this narrow aisle, next to hundreds of loaves of bread, that he’s saying this to you.

“Saeyoung, he knows that you would die for him. You tried to.”

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, walks away from you, lingers at the end of the aisle. The change in him is remarkable. There’s no hint of the awestruck boy, bouncing up and down over the wide selection of steaks, in this morose, bitter man.

“I didn’t succeed, did I?” he says. A mother with a small child seated in the front of her shopping cart comes down the aisle and you back up into the shelves to let them pass. You wonder if they can feel how thick the air is.

“No, you didn’t,” you say. “And thank god, because where would we be if you had?” He finally looks at you then, and you’re taken aback by the wild look in his eyes. It scares you; you take a step toward him. “You fought for him,” you tell him. “And he fought for you.”

His fingers drum a frantic pattern on the metal shelf beside him. He’s got the look of a cornered animal, ready to bolt. You’ve seen this expression before—though on a different Choi brother.

“I was supposed to protect him,” he says, so quietly you can hardly hear him. You take one more step. Another. Finally you’re at his side, and he flinches, but he doesn’t run away.

“You did,” you say. “And he’s safe. All of us are safe.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“We’re going to buy this stuff,” you tell him. “We’re gonna pay for it, and get in the car, and go back home, and he’ll be there. Waiting for you.”

Saeyoung shuts his eyes and takes a long, slow breath. You do it with him. He runs a shaky hand through his hair again and you give him a little nudge with your elbow. Eyes still closed, one side of his mouth twitches upward—a half-smile.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know.”

“I just feel like I owe you…”

“Me too.”

His eyes open; they’re clearer, bright and gold behind his glasses.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he says, and it sounds like a question.

“I love him,” you say. “So, I think I do.”

Saeyoung shakes his head; the color’s back in his cheeks now, and he grabs the cart, pushing it out of the aisle. You jog to catch up, grab onto the side just as he’d done earlier. Hold on tight.

“You love him a lot, don’t you?” he says. You can see him in your peripheral vision—his eyes are twinkling.

“More than anything in the world,” you reply.

“Me too,” he says, echoing you, and you grin. You picture the look on Saeran’s face if he could hear this conversation—the way his green eyes would soften, the way he’d get that adorable little dusting of pink over his cheeks.

Saeyoung turns the cart abruptly, maneuvering into the next aisle with an expertise you didn’t expect—you shriek, barely holding on. He cackles.

“We need this!” he says, and you turn to see him pointing at an alarmingly large box of some sort of purple cookie you’ve never seen before.

We don’t, you almost say, but you hesitate, because what’s the harm?

“Sure,” you say, and you toss them in the cart.

Saeyoung smiles. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. You know he’s not talking about the stupid cookies.

You beam right back at him. “I am too.”

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

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purple-phantoms · 4 years ago

Text

Happiest Place on Earth

Modern!Reggie Peters x Gender-Neutral!Reader, Luke Patterson x Alex Mercer

Based off of: #95 from my bucket list, Spend the whole day at Magic Kingdom

A/N: This was requested by @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic ! This is mostly going to be based off of research and memory. I’ve been to Magic Kingdom before, but only when I was 7 so I barely remember anything. In school a couple years ago I used to plan out which hotel I was going to stay in and which rides I wanted to go on lol. It’s such a shame that the pandemic had to hit. Also I’m basing this off of Disney World in Florida because I’m more familiar with that one. This is super long and not great, but hope you like it!

Summary: Y/n, Alex, Luke, and Reggie spend the day at Disney’s Magic Kingdom. Y/n and Reggie stay together while Luke and Alex pair up. Both groups try to hide their relationships from the other, until everything magically unfolds.

Masterlist

For reference, if you’ve never been to Disney World and have no idea what the rides are, I’m including links to pictures I used to write this.

For “Peter Pan’s Flight”: Youtube video, Google Images link

For “Be Our Guest”: Disney World website, Pinterest image

For “Pirates of the Caribbean”: Youtube video

For “Splash Mountain”: TikTok from Pinterest, Youtube video

The warm sun rose on the concrete. Thousands of people lined up outside the gates to purchase their tickets for the giant themepark. Them and the boys waited anxiously. They were just about to get to buy their tickets but there was a giant family of 7 in front of them. It felt like years before they called the next people. It felt like centuries before they were allowed to enter the paradise. The four of them split up into pairs; Alex and Luke, and Y/n and Reggie. They wanted to go their separate ways and go on all the rides possible and occasionally meet up to get food and relax.

The first stop for y/n and Reggie was to Cinderella’s castle for pictures. Reggie dragged them by the hand to get as close to the castle, pushing past a lot of people in the process. In their bag was a polaroid camera. It probably wasn’t the best idea to bring something like that to a theme park where it could easily be misplaced or stolen, but memories, right? Y/n took pictures of Reggie first. He did some poses both facing away from the castle and facing the castle. Next was y/n’s turn. Now, y/n was smart. They bought some Disney related things way before the trip. They bought Mickey Mouse earrings and ears for their outfit. Y/n did the same as Reggie and took pictures facing away and towards the castle.

Next stop was to It’s a Small World in Fantasyland. Y/n and Reggie sat in the boat together and swayed to the music as they started moving in the ride. The animatronics were cool but really creepy at the same time. “What if one of those just exploded like in a sci-fi movie,” y/n laughed. Most times y/n was capable of correctly anticipating what would come next in a ride. They could tell that this was just a chill ride, but it’s always fun to imagine the unlikely.

“If that happens, you should just snatch one of them up, and then we just have to run,” Reggie smiled as they laughed. Y/n and Reggie were always the ones in the group who thought that way. Obviously, they wouldn’t actually do that, but that doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be cool if they did.

Next they went to Peter Pan’s flight. Peter Pan had always been one of Reggie’s favorite characters because of his youth. Obviously before getting in line y/n had to take a picture of Reggie. God, he was gorgeous.

The wait was longer than what they had expected but it was worth it. The scenery was a beautiful sight. When they finally got to the end of the line, they gingerly entered their cart. The ride was chill like the one they had been on before. Reggie kissed y/n on the cheek before laying his head on y/n’s shoulder as they travelled through Neverland. All the animatronics looked so life-like and accurate to the movie. It would be crazy not to take just a few pictures.

The pair got off the ride and went on to the next one, then the next one, until they got hungry. Reggie texted Luke and Alex to find a place to meet up. They decided on the Be Our Guest restaurant. Once they all arrived, they felt underdressed. The restaurant looked exactly how you’d expect it to if you were living in the castle. The walls and tiles were yellow and blue, and the ceiling was painted with a renaissance-like picture.

“You guys seriously couldn’t have picked a more low-key place to eat?” Luke grumbled. This kind of thing had never been his style. He “hated” talking about the Disney princesses, he said they were too “feminine” for him.

“We came for the vibe, not the reality, loser,” Alex said. Reggie and y/n shook their heads. Sitting down for a little bit was quite refreshing. All 4 of them ate all the food they ordered, and it was a lot. But hey, they need their energy!

They sat in a little silence as they waited for their bill to arrive. They were all ready to go on more rides, but also ready for a nap. It’s too bad they were only spending the day there. A kick to the foot knocked y/n out of their daydream. “Ow,” they shouted.

“Oh sorry,” Alex said. “Me and Luke are going to be right back.” Y/n and Reggie looked at each other and laughed.

“Reggie, get your friends,” y/n laughed. Alex and Luke had been like this for a while now, and it was a little weird.

“I think they just went to take pictures,” Reggie shrugged. Y/n laughed.

“Yeah, of each other’s lips,” y/n said. Alex and Luke being a couple was always a theory that y/n and Reggie would talk about. After all, most times movie nights are with a group of people, not just with one person. Well it’s not like y/n and Reggie could speak on that either. They didn’t want Alex and Reggie to know about their relationship because they just wanted to keep it to themselves.

Then the couple pair came back. Alex looked completely normal while Luke’s shirt was super wrinkled.... like as if someone was grabbing at it.

“So where did you two go,” y/n asked with a smirk. Bothering Alex when he’s flustered was always a funny sight. He would never be able to say a single thing without chuckling or running his fingers through his hair.

“We uh-” Luke had to pause to think. “We went to go find a map.” Then he pulled one out of his back pocket, which he totally had way before. Le-let’s go on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride,” He stuttered.

“Thought you don’t like that stuff,” Reggie smiled.

“Well now I do,” Luke said as he grabbed his stuff.

The walk to Adventureland was long, but funny. Reggie couldn’t stop talking about that one time he dressed up as Jack Sparrow for y/n’s costume party last year. The same costume party where y/n and Reggie expressed their feelings for each other. The same costume party where they purposely hid in the closet so that nobody would know that they were officially together. The same costume party that nobody knew the full story about. “Guys, it literally was like 7 minutes in heaven,” Reggie beamed. “I felt like I could’ve gotten married right there.”

“Hey Reggie, do you remember how we agreed to not talk about that party,” y/n lied. They never had an actual agreement. Y/n just thought that neither of them would get close to exposing the truth.

“No, y/n,” Alex put his hand up. “I want to hear this one.” Y/n gave Reggie the look, hoping he’d understand and stop talking. He didn’t.

“Are you and this person still together,” Luke asked. Stop egging him on!!

“Obviously,” Reggie smirked as he put his arm around them.

“WHAT!” Alex and Luke yelled at the same time.

“I knew it, I knew it!” Alex cheered.

“Can you guys shut up?” Y/n grumbled.

“Yeah, are you guys going to get on the ride,” the operator asked. Woops.

“My bad, y/n,” Reggie whispered.

“It’s fine,” y/n said.

“It’s not fine,” Luke yelled. “This is huge, why didn’t you tell us?”

“You know what, Luke,” y/n turned around to face him. “In this ride there are probably real skeletons being used as props. If you don’t leave me alone I will donate yours to this ride when you die.” Luke sat back in his seat and fell silent. Saying things like that always worked with the guys.

When they got to the battle part, Reggie reached to hold y/n’s hand in his. Y/n squeezed his. They weren’t mad at him, they already knew Reggie was an airhead. This would have happened one way or another.

The four of them decided to go on Splash Mountain next. Y/n did this on purpose. They knew none of the boys knew that they’d get splashed on the ride. Perfect payback.

“Luke and Alex, I think you guys should sit in the front for this one,” y/n smiled.

“Why,” Alex asked.

“What, you don’t want to be the first ones to see everything,” y/n said sarcastically. The two boys shrugged in response.

They got into the raft with Luke and Alex sitting in the front and Reggie and y/n sitting right behind them. “So why are they sitting in the front,” Reggie whispered to them.

“It’s so that they’ll get splashed the most,” y/n laughed. And they did. On the first drop, they were moving their soaking wet hair out of the way of their eyes and screaming profanities. It didn’t help that there were little kids on the raft with parents yelling back at them to stop cursing. Y/n and Reggie sat back and laughed as their friends got soaked.

Luke and Alex were mad when they got off the ride and saw that y/n and Reggie were completely dry. “Y/n you did this on purpose,” Alex shouted.

“Yeah, I did,” y/n laughed. “So when were you guys going to tell us that you were dating?”

Alex and Luke’s jaws looked like they were going to hit the floor. “How did you know?” Alex asked

“You guys literally left us to go make out,” Reggie pointed out.

“Riiiiight,” Luke blushed.

“Yeah, so Reggie and I are going to go do ‘official couple’ things like go find Mickey and Minnie,” y/n smiled. “Let’s go, Reg.”

Taglist:

@flashoe @carnationcreation @camihoran00 @joyjoyner @prongsy-parker

Add yourself to my taglist!

#reggie jatp x reader #reggie imagine #reggie x reader #reggie nolastname #reggie peters x reader #luke patterson x alex #luke x alex #luke patterson x alex mercer #reggie julie and the phantoms #reggie peters #luke patterson #alex nolastname #alex jatp #alex mercer #gender neutral insert #julie and the phantoms #disney world #purple-phantoms

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solastia · 4 years ago

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Sanctuary | 2

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x F!Reader

Summary: Your bed & breakfast has a new regular...Jeon Jungkook of BTS

You shuffle into your office, still a little sleepy despite having a shower and having a steaming cup of coffee in your hands. You weren’t sure what the cause of it was, but you’d been entirely too restless to sleep well. Too much excitement, perhaps?

You shrug to yourself and sit into your office chair with a loud yawn, ruffling your still damp hair as you power on your laptop. You still hadn’t received any reservations for this week and you were hoping someone would come by for the weekend at least. You had some honeymooners reserved for next week, but that didn’t help you now. An entire week without guests would put a noticeable deficient in the books.

That’s why when you pulled up your check-in program and saw that you’d been booked for the entire week by a single client, you had to verify that you weren’t still asleep. You pinched yourself and cringed at the pain, staring again at the program.

Sure enough, it was all still there. One client, for seven days straight. They’d booked the biggest room upstairs, the only one up there besides your own. What was incredibly strange is that they changed the offered rate. Normally, you were one of the cheapest places in the area and charged $120 a night. Not bad for one of the more expensive areas in Northern California. This person was offering you a deal of $300 per night, along with fees for meals and a hefty “to be discussed” tip if you were to close reservations for anyone else. They were trying to rent the whole place? So probably some celeb going for anonymity by hiding in an unknown B&B.

You shrugged. It wasn’t that crazy, although most local celebs tended to hang out in Carmel rather than around here. And it certainly wouldn’t be the first one you’d hosted, simply the first one that had been so generous. The other two were well-known names and you’d been expecting a hefty tip from them but they’d been surprisingly tight-fisted. One had even tried to argue your nightly fee down in exchange for using the name of your place on his social media. You’d been happy to decline.

While a little more business would be nice, you didn’t want the place overrun. You wanted it small and cozy. Safe, for yourself as well as your guests. The whole purpose of the place was to have somewhere calm and comfortable to escape to.

This person must be especially desperate if they were booking the entire place to be alone. There wasn’t a mention of them bringing any other guests with them. You exhaled noisily and clicked accept, sending them a little welcome email with all the instructions they’d need. You wondered with a self-amused grin if you should start putting a little footnote mentioning that celebrity scandals or drug-filled parties were not allowed on the premises.

You lean back in your chair when you’re done, taking sips of your now luke-warm coffee as you think over everything that you have to do to get ready. According to the form they filled out, they’d be arriving that evening. You kept the house in shape daily so you didn’t have much to do in the way of chores, but you should make a menu for the week, get the fireplace in the room prepped, and hit up a few of your friends for the local event tickets.

Thor comes up and bumps your thigh, reminding you that you still had to take him out.

“I got you, buddy,” you chuckle, standing up with a groan and going to fetch his leash. “We have a long day ahead of us, and then maybe you’ll have a new friend for a bit, huh? You gotta be on your best behavior.”

Thor barks softly and you pretend he’s answering you instead of demanding you hurry the hell up with your shoes. You decide at the last minute to throw on a hoodie too since the temperature was lowering fast. You hiss as you step outside and hope that Thor manages to get his business done fast. But even the chill wasn’t enough to bring down your mood. Today was going to be a great day. You could just feel it in your bones.

****

You had just finished putting another batch of cookies in the oven when you heard someone arrive and ring the little bell you kept on the front desk.

“Good evening! I’ll be right there, but go ahead and shut the door if you want!” You holler from the kitchen as you wash your hands.

You’d left the door open just in case they came around while you were putting around the place, but now that they were here you could finally turn on the heater.

You dry your hands and pat down your shirt and pants as you walk, hoping you didn’t look too casual. Jeans and a flowy blue button-up blouse with matching flats seemed casual yet comfortable. And you were wearing your pearls just in case they were the stuffy sort that would look down on you for not looking at least a little professional.

“Hi, welcome to Sanctuary! I’m -”

“Hey, Noona,” a cheeky-toned voice answered as you turned the corner and entered the foyer.

Your eyebrows fly up as you see the tall figure standing there. “Jungkook?”

He looks...fucking glorious. Black pants that look like they are painted on tucked into those stomper boots he seems to love. Plain black t-shirt tucked into his pants and a blue flannel shirt over that. Sitting next to him is a large black backpack that is easily half as big as him.

He grins cockily and leans against the desk. “They gave me a couple of weeks off so I’m here on vacation. Please take care of me,” he bows with mock formality.

“You’re the one that booked the whole place, right?” you ask, bringing up your computer application to check him in. He leans in way too close and looks over your shoulder as you work.

“Yup! One of the managers did the form though. Did he do everything I asked? Up the rate and made sure you feed me?”

You snort, “Yes, Jungkook. They are paying me an astronomical amount and I have plenty of food. Although, I only went shopping for one normal person. You’ll probably go through it all it two days, so make me a list.”

He chuckled lowly and you shivered, feeling his breath on your ear.

“Well, I’m not eating every meal here. I’m going to go out sometimes, too. Maybe noona can show me some nice places?”

You struggle to hold back a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

A shrill beeping started in the kitchen and Jungkook jumped back, looking around curiously.

“Cookies,” you answered the silent question. You finish typing a couple of things in the program than jump up and rush towards the kitchen, amused to notice Jungkook hot on your heels.

You shove your hand in a glove and pull out the pan, your own stomach rumbling a little from the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies. It probably also didn’t help that in your rush to prepare for your guest you might have forgotten your own meals.

You scoop them onto the wire rack, so focused in the work that you forgot about the other person beside you until his thieving hands begin reaching towards one of the scalding hot cookies. You smack it with the spatula.

“Let it cool,” you order unapologetically, forgetting for a moment he was an actual guest. His sheepish grin assured you that there were no hard feelings. And that he would probably do it again.

“Are you hungry for actual food?”

He nods quickly, helping himself to one of the bar stools at your prep counter.

“Yeah. I ate this morning, but then I had to finish this interview before they’d let me go free. And that means an hour in hair and makeup for five minutes of questions,” he rolls his eyes and props his cheek onto his hand as he watches you.

“Ugh,” you grunt sympathetically. You look around for the menu you’d made for the week and hand it to him. “Look this over, will you? Let me know if there’s anything you don’t like.”

He silently reads your list as you prepare him a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. And maybe you sneak a couple for yourself as well.

Finally, he nods and tosses it over. “It’s good. Maybe add some Korean food if you know how to make any. I noticed there weren’t any restaurants.”

“Yeah, this place isn’t really known for its diverse cuisine. But if you want fifty seafood places, we have you covered.”

He snorts, “Kinda like home.”

You laugh, remembering how many little food carts littered Busan’s beaches.

You place his snack in front of him and he dives in happily, his eyes wide with happiness. You slide into the seat next to him and study him.

“So, Jeon Jungkook. What are your plans for the week? Are you going to stick around the house most of the time or should I maybe find some places for you to visit? I have lots of friends that I can get tickets from.”

He takes a huge gulp of milk and sighs contentedly before he answers. He shrugs, “Mostly around here. This is my time to actually relax. Definitely going to the beach and taking some photos. Other than that, I don’t know.”

“Hmm,” you hum, propping your chin in your hand. “The main attractions out here are all marine-based, so it’s up to you if you want to see any of it or if it’s all just old news to a Busan boy. But we do have the marine sanctuary nearby, there’s whale watching, and I think the butterfly exhibit is still going on. It really depends on how far you’re willing to travel. Monterey has even more things to do.”

He looks almost shy when he glances up at you. “Is it okay if we just stay here tonight?”

Your filthy disgusting mind conjures up all sorts of things hearing a sentence like that coming from Jeon Jungkook’s mouth, but you gulp and hope your voice sounds normal.

“Yup. Of course. It’s your vacation. Most guests don’t even interact this much with me. They just check-in and have meals sent to their room.”

“It’s okay. I like having noona around,” he grins, his eyes crinkling mischievously. Brat.

He looks around suddenly. “Hey, where’s Thor?”

“I usually keep him in my room until I figure out how pet-friendly the guest actually is.”

“You can let him run around, I’m fine,” he grins with excitement and follows behind when you get up and head towards the stairs.

Once you reach the top you can already hear Thor sniffing on the other side. You fling open your bedroom door and let him practically fly towards Jungkook. The man tries to sneak a peek inside before you slam the door shut, not ready to let the international celebrity see your mess.

Instead, you nod towards the room across the hall and gesture with your arm.

“This one is yours.”

He grins softly and walks around peeking at everything, patting the covers of the bed until Thor jumps up. He sits next to him and nods.

“It’s so nice. You did a good job.”

“Thanks,” you grin lopsidedly as you take a quick look around. “I think I did okay too. I’m no interior designer, but I was hoping for homey.”

“It’s relaxing,” he agrees with a nod. “I couldn’t even do this with my own place. I just threw some blankets on the floor and set up my PC. I don’t even think I have proper dishes. I had to eat cereal out of the plastic bag inside,” he giggles.

You shake your head, unsurprised really.

“This TV is pretty big too,” he grunts as he climbs towards the headboard of the bed, then crosses his ankles with a sigh, setting against the plush pillow behind him and playing with the remote. “Do you get all the channels?”

“Yeah,” you nod, standing there awkwardly now as he gets comfortable. You should probably go make dinner now or something, right?

“Oh nice,” he suddenly exclaims exactly, tossing the remote away. “Deadpool is on. Come watch, noona,” he says, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

His eyes are huge and there’s not a single hint on his face that this is a joke. He looks innocent and earnest. Just where was this “shy” Jungkook you’d always heard about?

You shuffle towards the bed and slowly lower yourself onto it, trying your best to avoid actual contact with him. He didn’t seem to approve because he actually scooted closer until his rock hard thigh was pressed right up against yours.

“Get comfortable, noona. I don’t have rabies,” he chuckled, tugging you down a little more until you were sharing a pillow.

Fuck. How was it possible for a man to smell so good, you moaned in your head. Thor - the traitorous bastard - was cuddled in a circle right in between Jungkook’s legs. He looked well on his way to taking a nap.

You focus on the tv, not really watching the movie, and trying instead not to hyperventilate. He was so close and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. You felt like a nervous teenager.

It was probably midway through the movie when you first heard it. A tiny little wheeze. Then, the man next to you felt like he was slipping. You turn and grin when you notice that Jungkook is pretty much out for the count. His head has slipped right onto your shoulder and his mouth is wide open as he sleeps, his nose making a cute little rattle instead of outright snores.

You huff and look around, yawning as the feeling of laying in bed finally begins to catch up with you as well. You hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, so it was understandable. But Jungkook probably didn’t get much sleep on a regular basis, so you’d hate to disturb him now. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes for a little bit. Just until it was time to make dinner.

You give in to the lazy feel of the room and shut your eyes, snuggling into the pillow a little more. You barely noticed when a strong arm flipped you over gently and pulled you closer.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook #noona #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #mxr #sanctuary #solastia

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zmediaoutlet · 4 years ago

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in support of Texas relief, @merle-p donated $45, and requested Sam/Mick. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post.

(read on AO3)

This hotel really is a tip. Mick takes the keycard up with him—American quirk—and shakes his head at the identical thin carpets, the shoddy elevator, the spotting on the mirror, the bed with its awful polyester duvet. No, not a duvet—a thin bedspread, with a vile leaf-and-flowers pattern that wouldn't do for wallpaper of even the saddest pensioner. He leaves his bag on the cheap luggage rack and tosses his keycard onto the desk and looks at the bed, rubbing his hand over his mouth.

He orders dinner from what passes for room service. He doesn't know what the Winchesters are doing—probably dipping away to some diner, from the profile work Lady Bevell had provided—but they don't call for him, either way. A chicken marsala of decent quality, sticky rice, overcooked broccoli. He eats it efficiently with his mobile playing a midnight stream of the BBC World Service, sitting at the table with the lamps lit. He looks out the window, its view of overcrowded trees and the parking lot and the road, and he does see the Chevrolet pull back in, bulky and too-big and too-loud and too-American, and he smiles at it even if he shouldn't, and passes the napkin over his mouth, and sits back in his chair, to think.

Work of a moment to set up the typewriter. A quick twist of the ink-ribbon and a murmur of Farsi and he sends his report back home. Casefiles distributed to local hunter, he types, and pauses. Tests of loyalty continue, he types, more slowly, and doesn't have much to add. His reports are terse as a matter of course but he isn't often given to dissembling. Not, at least, before the massacre at the headquarters. He unclenches his jaw and tears the sheet of paper out of the typewriter. That's more than enough.

Quiet, since the alpha vampire was destroyed. Ketch has been doing his own work, directed by both Mick and by the old men on orders Mick isn't given to know, and he's been allowed replacement assistance at headquarters but it isn't as it was. The Kendricks-trained goons they sent are more of Ketch's ilk than his and he doesn't know them. Mary Winchester has been distant. It's only Sam Winchester, really, that Mick knows at all in this country, and Sam is…

Mick sits watching the trees in the moonlight, for a few minutes longer, and then goes to the minibar in the suite's kitchenette. Not much to inspire, there. He calls down to room service, again, and makes an order, and then goes to the ensuite and washes his face, and swishes the marsala-flavor out with mouthwash, and then looks at himself, his suit somewhat rumpled and no tie and his eyes—he looks away from his eyes, and thinks, well. If it goes wrong, it will hardly be the first time something has gone wrong.

The suites are all on the same floor. Dean's in 703, Mick's in 706, and Sam's down at the far end of the hall, 712, the hall ending with a great picture window looking out onto the moonlit woods, and Mick pauses in front of that last door, watching out for a moment. Not yet nine o'clock. Plenty of time to turn around and try for a different night.

The elevator dings, halfway down the hall. Mick's mouth hitches, without him meaning it to, and he knocks at Sam's door. A moment, while Mick stands placid in full view of the peephole, and then a muffled rattle while the chain is disengaged, and then the deadbolt and then the door opening by a foot, Sam standing in the gap and giving Mick a look like he's not to be trusted. "Yeah?" he says, not exactly unfriendly but not welcoming, either.

Mick smiles, as friendly as Sam isn't. "I wondered if we might have a talk, you and I," he says.

"It's late," Sam says, which it clearly isn't. His brow tightens. "Something about the job?"

"Something like that," Mick says, and at that moment the girl arrives with the room service cart, looking confused. "Ah," he says, and gestures. "Please come in, miss, Mr. Winchester was just waiting for his order," and Sam blinks at the girl and then gives Mick a look that would melt steel, but luckily Mick is not steel. He opens the door wider and Mick sees he's in bare feet, his jacket removed, the most informal he's been in Mick's presence since he was being tortured—and Mick follows the room service cart into the suite and Sam's too polite or too circumspect or too self-controlled to stop him.

The room's dim, illuminated only by the bedside lamp, and the girl's uncertain. "Where would you like it, sir?" she says, and Mick gestures at the table under the window, and Sam's silent while she unloads the bucket, the two glasses set down with gentle clicks.

Sam smiles at her as she leaves—very fake, it drops off the second her back's turned—and waits until the door closes behind her to say, "What the hell, Mick. Champagne?"

Mick shrugs, pulling the bottle out of the silver bucket. "Not a good one, if that helps," he says. Appropriately cold, at least. He starts working the wire cage, ignoring the look he's getting. "I thought it might be appropriate, that's all. Inauguration of a new stage in our partnership."

"Our partnership," Sam echoes, with unflattering skepticism. The cork pops smoothly and Mick smiles at Sam, eyebrows high, and gets at least a sigh, an eyeroll, a shake of head. Slight exasperation—how he looks, sometimes, at his brother. Mick pours while Sam watches, saying, "If it's about our partnership, then I should invite Dean over."

Mick watches the bubbles rise in the second flute and licks his lips. That was a particular sort of tone, from Sam. "I thought we might discuss some things privately, you and I," he says, and turns to hold out one of the glasses. "Dean, I think, isn't yet my biggest fan. Though I'd like that to change."

"Champagne probably wouldn't do it," Sam says. He's giving Mick another look. Assessing. Mick tips his head and can't tell if he's been found wanting. A beat, before Sam walks over and takes the glass. "Maybe if you brought whiskey."

Damn Ketch. Mick shakes his head and extends his own glass as a toast—but Sam's already moving away, sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the table, looking out the window. His hair's tucked behind his ear, lamplight on his cheek and moonlight on his brow. Like a sculpture. Mick sits opposite him and sips the champagne and it's—sugary, light. "This really isn't ideal," he says.

Sam glances at him, and then down at his glass. He takes a sip and makes a face. "Sweet."

Mick licks his lips and gambles. "Truth be told, I like the cheap stuff better," he says, and—yes, Sam looks up at him and it's with slight surprise. An opening. Mick shrugs. "I wasn't always top Kendricks material. Had to learn to drink like my betters."

Sam huffs air through his nose. "Sounds familiar," he says. Mick raises his eyebrows and Sam half-smiles, his head tipping. "At Stanford I think I was the only one who actually liked Hamburger Helper without the hamburger."

Not a reference Mick gets, but he gets the sentiment. "To not being posh," he says, lifting his glass again, and Sam snorts but nods, and takes a drink, and Mick watches his throat move as he swallows, the way his hand's delicate on the flute. The size of him.

"I wanted to thank you, too," Mick says. He sets his glass down. "I didn't really get the chance, before." A frown, Sam not understanding. Is it genuine? Mick clears his throat. "For—killing the alpha vampire. I would've died if you weren't there."

Surprise—god, it was genuine. Mick's out of practice, being around people who aren't hiding ten different agendas up their tweed sleeves. "You're probably right," Sam says, after a second. His mouth lifts at one corner. A dimple. "No offense. But I didn't do it for you."

"Oh, thanks," Mick says, leaning back, and Sam actually laughs a little, says: "I meant, that's the point, of being a hunter. You kill the bad thing and save whoever you can. That's what makes the whole thing worth it."

He shrugs, sips at his champagne again. Makes another face but seems to be getting used to it. Mick taps his thumb on the table, watching him. "I'm getting that," Mick says. "I think. It was always… very academic, before. Clean research, without the messiness of the real world."

Sam's eyelashes sweep low. "Sounds easier," he says, with a queer twist to his voice that makes Mick wonder.

He's not going to uncover everything there is to know about Winchester the Younger tonight, however. He makes a note, puts it to the side, and instead tops up their glasses, reaching over the table to fill Sam's without Sam much helping. "Mick," Sam says, sighing protest, though Mick notices he doesn't actually pull away.

"Once the bottle's opened you have to finish it," Mick says, easy, "it'll go flat, otherwise," and he lifts his glass in a little toast and drains it in a few frothy swallows—Sam sighs, and takes a gulp too—and then Mick gets up, comes around the table, and sits on the edge, a little too much in Sam's space to be mistaken for casual.

Sam blinks at him. His mouth's still damp a little from the champagne. "What's up?" he says. Almost warning.

"I said I wanted to thank you," Mick says. He reaches down—Sam's legs long enough that his knee's close—so Mick puts two fingers there, very lightly, feeling the twitch of reaction. Still, Sam doesn't completely pull away. "I can provide other benefits than not-very-good champagne."

Sam's chin tips up and he looks at Mick very steadily. "You're serious," he says, after a few seconds. Mick lifts a shoulder. Sam's eyes tighten, minutely, at the corners. "What's with the British Letters and using sex to infiltrate the enemy? That something they teach at Kendricks, too?"

Mick swallows. It is, but Sam's not to know that, unless—he'd wondered, if Lady Bevell had, but he hadn't been part of her debriefing. "Not the enemy," he says, forestalling the thought. "And not using. And not infiltration, either, and not even, really, the British Letters, here." He takes a breath and gives Sam a little smile, feeling unaccountably like he's at the edge of a cliff without belays to hold him. "Just Mick. Michael, if you like. Expressing my gratitude and wondering how I can show it."

"Most people just do beer and pizza," Sam says, still with those tight searching eyes.

Mick doesn't move his fingers, where they're still just brushing the warm denim. "Never much liked pizza," he says, which he knows is stupid as soon as it comes out of his mouth, but Sam hasn't moved—isn't moving, still as a watching tiger in square uncomfortable chair. He chances it, spreading his hand flat on the lean muscle of Sam's thigh. It flexes underneath his palm and he breathes out, slowly. "You're ridiculously attractive. You know that, I trust."

"Thanks," Sam says, after a moment. He grips Mick's wrist, tight but not bruising, and Mick swallows again, meeting Sam's eyes and trying to look honest. He's out of practice with that, too. Sam looks at him, and at his mouth, and Mick thinks for a second—yes—but then Sam detaches Mick's hand from his leg, firmly, and pushes it back against Mick's chest. His fingers are briefly hot through Mick's shirt. "But I don't accept payment," Sam says, with a quick hard press for emphasis before he lets Mick go. "Especially not—" he starts, and shakes his head instead of finishing. He pushes his chair back and stands, turning to the window. He pushes a hand through his hair and it falls messily right back into place. He blocks out the moonlight. He's so oversized—in everything—smarts and skill and beauty. Mick wants to touch him again immediately and doesn't.

"My mistake," Mick says. He bites the inside of his lip very hard, until it hurts more than he can stand, and lets it go, and waits for the throb the grow and swell and pass, and in all that time Sam doesn't speak. He stands up, fixing his cuff, at pitches his voice to lightness. "At least you enjoyed my champagne."

"I wouldn't go that far," Sam says, not precisely light but not cruel, either, and Mick turns to go—and is caught, by the wrist again, while Sam says: "Wait."

He's being looked at, again, and before he can decide what expression Sam's wearing he's pulled forward and he's being kissed. His hand flexes in Sam's grip and with the other he touches Sam's stomach, surprised. Sam's hand on his jaw, controlling, and his mouth—firm, not giving anything up, but good, too—not a hint of uncertainty, not dithering about. Mick breathes in through his nose and enjoys it. A man's kiss, he thinks, hard and uncompromising. He tips his head back, letting Sam guide him, and parts his lips, and there's Sam's tongue—for a second, a hot brief flash that jolts his gut—and then Sam pulls back, a centimeter, breathing against him. Mick strokes a thumb over the waist of his jeans where his belt is weighing them down, and Sam ducks his head, breathes against Mick's jaw for a second, and then steps back entirely, letting Mick go.

There's a warm throb in Mick's wrist. Sam gripped him very tightly, for a moment there. "That was unexpected," he says, after a moment. His lower lip is damp and he very much wants to lick it, but resists the impulse.

Sam has no such compunction, apparently. He licks his mouth and stretches his jaw, too, resettling. Mick's put in mind again of a tiger, looking at willing prey, and his cock flexes in his trousers. "Just wondering," Sam says, casual.

Mick's startled into a grin. "You absolute prick," he says, and Sam smiles back at him. A little smug. "And how was it?"

A lifted shoulder, like nothing. "Maybe we can stay here again when we're done with this job," Sam says. Then, a little more serious: "We can talk. If it's just Mick, and not anything else."

Mick runs his tongue over the sore spot inside his lip. "I'm looking forward to it," he says, and Sam nods. He steps back and Sam lets him go, and Mick hooks the bottle of champagne out of the bucket, dripping ice-water onto the carpet. "But I'm taking this." Sam snorts. "And I hope you don't mind if I have a furious wank over this in about ten minutes."

An eyeroll. "TMI," he says, the bastard, and Mick sighs at him and exits with what dignity he has, and when the door's closed behind him he stands in the overly bright hall with the bottle still dripping cold against his trousers and breathes out. He licks his lips and gets a taste of champagne.

After the case is done, he thinks, and can't imagine for a moment what might go in that space. It's a strange uncertainty. For the first time in his life, something unplanned and uncalculated-for, something the Letters haven't decided for him. Something just for him. He flexes his hand, still feeling the echo of Sam on his wrist. After the case. He really is looking forward to it.

#ffcc #sam/mick davies #spn fic #first kiss #my writing

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xplr-beauty · 4 years ago

Text

Ateez: August Dates ~ Week Two

Second part to the Ateez date series! (If you haven't read the first part, it's fine they aren't super connected)

Also it's 4:24a.m. and I did not proof read so sorry for any mistakes I am the tired.

Hongjoong:

Drive-In Movie

You and Hoongjoong got dressed up and headed to the store to buy snacks for your movie night

One of your favorite movies was playing at a park near your house and your boyfriend thought it would be fun to take you to go see it

At the store you guys raced through the aisles to get all the snacks and drinks you wanted, then to checkout in a hurry so you wouldn't be late for the movie

Hongjoong kept telling you to calm down and relax, saying you have plenty of time before the film starts as he laughs at you softly and slowly looks at all the options just to annoy you a bit

You would pull at his arm telling him to just hurry up and pick a snack so y'all could go, at this he would tease you with a 'hmm but maybe I want this snack? Or to try this one?" As he grabbed several packages and read the ingrediates in them very slowly

You would pout a little, or give him an angry glare, either way it would be enough to make him hurry up and choose a snack much faster

Finally leaving the store you guys drove to the park that the movie was being held at, everything was set up old school cinema style and looked pretty retro and 50-60's themed

Making it in plenty of time before the movie started, Hongjoong drove up to the perfect spot and parked the car asking you if you'd rather sit inside the car and watch or if you wanted to sit on the trunk/outside of the car

Whichever you decide, you guys began setting up.

OUTSIDE THE CAR: Hongjoong took the blankets and laid them out on the hood or back of the car while you grabbed a couple pillows and set them up. Joong took out the snacks and set them between you guys before picking you up and sitting you down on the car, before sliding up beside you. He took an extra blanket and covered you up, asking if you were warm and comfortable. After you were ready to go, he laid his head down on you shoulder and leaned up just far enough to kiss your cheek

IN THE CAR: climbing into the backseat together, HongJoong plopped his feet up onto the middle console and you laid your legs over his lap. He pulled you onto his chest and got you all comfy, he made sure you had plenty of blankets, sat the snacks within arms reach, got whatever else you needed set up for you before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and began eating snacks while staring at the screen waiting for the movie to start

Soon, the movie began to play!!

You guys laughed together, said the lines in perfect timing with the characters, he pointed out his favorite part "ah, this is my favorite scene!" With an excited squeel like tone as he edged closer to the screen a bit

Every now and then he would kiss the top of your head or feed you some of the snacks, offer you some drink silently or squeeze your shoulder/hand just as a reminder he's there

Once the movie was over he 'woow'd the film and complimented it, discussing the film with you before cleaning up the mess and either walking around with you for a bit or driving you straight home if you were too tired

If you fall asleep on the drive home, he'll be in pure heaven with how adorable you are! He wouldn't even bother waking you, he would carry you straight to bed once you got home. (Even if you don't live together, he would also pay respects to your parents/roommates before he leaves thanking them for letting him carry you to bed so you didn't have to wake up from your precious dream) of course, he would leave you with a kiss on your forehead

Seonghwa:

Amusement Park

It's been a while since Seonghwa has been to a good amusement park but hearing you talking about them for weeks on end now, he feels like it would be wrong not to take you

Once you both have free time on a day of nice weather, Seonghwa would take you to a fairly new amusement park only a couple hours away

On the way to the park, you guys would decide what rides you were most excited to try out, discussing taking pictures together and eating some good food. You were both really excited

The worst part of the day was standing in the line to get into the park. You were so eager to go on rides and see the park it felt like hours before you got inside

Once in the park however, it was worth the wait! Everything was better than you imagined, more magical than you were expecting. Every single ride looked tempting, all the characters in the park walking around looked fun and so cool, there were little food stalls full of unique and aesthetically pleasing foods, you didn't know where to start.

Seonghwa pulled out his camera secretly while you were in awe of the park and he managed to snap an embarrassing photo of you in front of the entrance, in the photo you looked like you had drool running out of your gaped mouth in excitement!

Seonghwa pointed out three rides for you that were all at the entrance, suggesting you start with a ride to get your blood pumping before heading around the park

The first option was a Go-Kart themed bug mobile racing arena, the second a 'BATMAN' rollercoaster ride, and lastly the 'CYBORG' a 7 story high anti-gravity thrill ride

GO-KART: if you choose the Go-Kart racing, Seonghwa would chuckle slightly as he takes you by the hand and leads you through the crowd of people and towards the colorful building near by. Inside you both got to choose your carts, he got into a purple and orange spotted beetle with a silly face as you got into the one beside his. Seonghwa struggled to put on his seatbelt, looking around the kart in utter confusion. You roll your eyes a bit before hoping out and running over to help your man buckle up, teasing him lightly before getting back in your kart. Once the race started, you guys drove around the garden like track racing up and down the four lane track as you cheer and laugh as you pass by one another. The ride was short but oh so sweet! You would hollar at him a bit as he sped past you on the last lap, though you were able to quickly catch up!

BATMAN ROLLER COASTER: If you decide to pick the roller coaster, Seonghwa would nod in slight anxiousness as you run towards the ride and he follows after you slowly. After waiting in line for a good while with Seonghwa squeezing your hand beside you, its finally time to ride the coaster. Sitting beside you, he would shake the bar a bit to make sure it was locked in tight before the roller coaster began creaking it's way towards the tall climb. The ride was really cool and full of high top drops, loops, and swirls. Sometimes you were upside down, sometimes you were dropping down 15 feet at 50 miles per hour before going on a wingover corkscrew descent fast enough to plaster you to your seat

CYBORG: heading down to the metropolis section of the park that was close by, Seonghwa made a few jokes saying you may be too short to ride and teasing you a lot. However once you made it, it became clear you are not too short! Getting onto the gondola side by side, Seonghwa locks his harness in place and checks yours to make sure it's tight and secure enough, feeling very overprotective in this moment. Soon the ride would start lifting off the ground and spinning on all three axis flipping you guys upside down and all around as it goes fast and then faster and you fly head over heels. The ride had you laughing, maybe screaming, maybe aloud Maybe on the inside. It just had Seonghwa making that 'what am I doing with my life?' Face as he questions silently how the rest of the day will go. Soon the ride lowered to the ground and you were let out of your seats. You would ask Seonghwa if y'all could ride again as you teater totter side to side finding it hard to stay balanced on your own two feet

After this, you walk around for a bit and take photos, either with Characters or fancy props around the park

Between photographs, you two go on more interesting rides, maybe stop for food and some drinks. He takes you into a couple gift shops if they look interesting enough. Basically, he let you dictate the day for the most part

Every now and then he would go all 'mama Hwa' mode on you, yelling for you to stop running, telling you to take his hand as you walk through crowds so you don't get lost, squatting down to tie your shoes, wiping your face as you eat. He would pull you into a gift shop and purchase sunscreen, helping you apply it in the middle of the store saying its too hot and you're gonna get burned if you don't take precautions. He would scold you a bit if you hurt yourself before taking care of your injury for you. He was just, very protective! He even had you guys stand in the shade after every few rides just to make sure that you wouldn't over heat

As the day went by, you guys rode most of to every ride you wanted to go on, he bought you a few things you wanted even if you insisted he didn't have to. He got a keychain with your name on it to add to his key ring so he'd always have a piece of you with him

Before you guys went home, Seonghwa with you on his back and bags in his hand, he stopped to buy a year round pass so you could come back whenever you wanted to. Afterwards, he carried you to the car and buckled you in, kissing the top of your sleeping head and scolding you quietly for making him carry you (though he really didn't mind and he actually quite enjoyed it!)

It was quite dark when you guys ended up leaving and Seonghwa struggled a bit to drive the few hours home but every time he looked over and saw your peaceful face, he felt stronger and was able to get you home safely

Yunho:

Stargazing

You both were very excited to watch the stars together tonight, all day you walked around looking for the perfect spot which ended up being; the roof OR the garden in the backyard right

Either way, Yunho carried out blankets and set them up to make it more comfortable for you both, he also took out a telescope (if you chose backyard) to make things easier to see

BACKYARD: Wrapped in blankets and standing at the telescope, Yunho looked first in order to place it prefectly in a gorgeous spot before passing it to you to look through. You took turns using it, either him bending down to see little things as you gaze between him and the sky, or you looking through the scope as he holds your waist from behind

ROOF: Sitting on the roof together and pointing to different sections of the sky he traced random patterns out with his fingers, one eye squinted shut as he talks in a cartoon voice pretending the stars are cartoon characters and trying to make you laugh

Throughout the night you look for the constellations and Yunho 'helps' you look for them before eventually asking what they look like and what exactly should he be looking for cause all he can find is an octogon cluster, a few small hearts, Spongebon and Patrick playing leapfrog and a pirate hook

Upon successfully making you laugh, Yunho would grab you by the waist and lay both down together with you in his lap as you stare up at the stars and talk about how peaceful the night sky is

You share your dreams, talk a little about astrology, and discuss your future together as you hold hands and cuddle closely while crickets chirp quietly near by and the faint sound of an owls howl fills the air

Soon it begins to run and Yunho runs you inside so you don't get wet and sick before he grabs the blankets & other things to keep them from getting damaged and unusable

Inside together, you a little wet but mostly dry since he covered you with his body and Yunho soaked from head to toe, you guys both laugh a little

You pull out a towel you had grabbed while he was getting the blankets and things, and you immediately begin to pat him dry as you scold him for risking getting sick

"If I get sick it just means you'll have to nurse me back to health." He whispers a bit while staring into your focused eyes

Yeosang:

Skateboarding

At the skate park, Yeosang was teaching you how to skate (or teaching you a new trick if you already know how to skate)

He would demonstrate the steps going very slowly so you could learn and understand what he was doing before letting you try step by step

Teaching you how to kick off for this special move Yeosang would show you 2-3 times before helping you onto the board (if you need it) and watching you try to do the same thing he did as he follows semi close behind to help prevent you from falling off just in case

You guys would practice as many times as you needed too before you got it right and he would fist bump nothingness in excitement before cheering you on and letting you know he knew you would get this. "Yes, I knew you could get it! Fun isn't it?"

He would help you step by step repeating this as many times as possible until you learned the full trick, he would catch you every time you began to fall, teach you in different ways if he saw you struggling to much and even when he got frustrated he just took a deep breath and let you know he's proud of you even if you are struggling to get a hold of this

Once you finally nailed the trick he clapped and jumped up into the air cheering in joy for you before running over and pulling you into a big hug or high fiving you, or both as he shows that big smile of his and asks you to do the trick once more as he secretly records you and saves the video to a private file full of photos and videos that he has taken of you

Before you guys leave the park, you both free skate a bit, you may both stand on the skateboard together as he holds you waist and takes you around in a circle, or you may play a little game of skateboard tag together

If you get tired and want to sit for a bit Yeosang would ask of it was okay for him to skate alone or if you'd prefer he sat with you, he didn't want you to feel alone but he really wanted to skate as well and today was the perfect day for it

Eventually you guys leave hand in hand, Yeosang lets you ride his skateboard on the way back home as he holds your hands and guides you, confusing him as he skips the turn onto your street and instead leads you to the ice cream joint and pizza parlor near by insisting ice cream & pizza tastes best after skateboarding all day, you would have to agree to this!

San

Beach Volleyball

Playing volleyball together on the beach, you and San ran back and forth on your repsective sides chasing after the ball and taking turns hitting it back to each other

You both let out little grunts of exhaustion as you ran, occasionally you would fall and he would let out little laughs before going up to net and checking on you

You would get so happy when he fell so you could laugh back at him before checking on him

You both were being very competitive today not wanting to lose, but also not really keeping track of points

One time you went to hit the ball and it bounced off the net hitting you in the face instead. San laughed so hard he fell to the ground holding his ribs unable to breath, you laughed as well which is why he didn't feel bad for laughing

In the end, you were alright but slightly annoyed at your lovers behaviour

Soon, another couple came up and asked to play against you guys meaning you and San had to work together

You thought it would be really easy since you guys are dating after all meaning you know each other pretty well but uh no, no it wasn't so easy

Throughout the match you and San kept running into each other, accidentally tripping over one another, or just avoiding the ball all in all cause you thought the other one would get it

The couple asked for a lunch break, upon seeing you guys struggling

During lunch, you and San discussed your game plan, one of you would take the front the other would take the back and you would call out your moves as you went to hit the ball

After getting back to the game you again realised that maybe this isn't as easy as you thought

Yes, one of you took front the other took back and yes that made it easier but you both forgot to call out your moves ending in each of you chasing after the ball or running into each other

Eventually, you got things worked and you were able to work well together resulting in a good game! And a fun time

After the game once it began to get dark, the couple invited you to a beach bonfire and roasting food for dinner. San let decide what you guys should do, he was fine either way!

Mingi:

Driving Through the City

It was about 10pm and you and Mingi were driving around the city, blaring the radio and dancing as well as singing along to all your favorite times

As you drive past buildings you point out special memories together. "That's where we went to watch that musical for your birthday" he pointed to a Broadway studio. "We used to get ice cream over there when you were stressed and needed an escape from work!" You pointed towards an ice cream joint two buildings down

This continues for a while as you turn down random streets and explore the city lights and the beauty of the nightlife after hours. Suddenly 'Photograph' by Nickelback (or any song you like about fond memories) plays and you both sing along, or really belt out, the song while holding hands and being very dramatic and extra with your little car performance

The windows were down and your hair was flying all over the place, the sunroof was open and the moon was shining perfectly onto your face it was a picture perfect moment straight out of a music video or movie

Until Mingi handed you his phone and asked him to take a picture of him at a red light. "Make me look sexy!" He joked loudly as you laughed and rolled your eyes taking pictures of him and treating him like he's your own model "oh right there, ah yes, perfect! That's the one, okay I see you!" You cheered and complimented him making him turn red

Handing him back his phone Mingi asked "do I look shmexy baby?" He went all geeky on you but you still told him he looks perfect before asking why he cares so much just for him to reply with

"I'm sending these to a hot girl!"

You were turn to him so slowly and smack his arm so hard it turned red in an instant. You kept hitting him a bit and yelling at him asking who this 'girl' is as he only screams 'ow' repeatedly

Soon your phone dings and you back away slowly, turning to look at your phone to see he sent all the pictures to you, with some random lettering from his hand slipping between you smacking him

"YOU! You're my hot lady/baby. My sexy girl/man!" He faked cried as he held his arm before the light turned green and he started driving again

You kept apologising and laughing awkwardly, to which he would only stick his tongue out at you and 'tsk' at you

Soon he pulled over to a cookie place on a not so well corner of a secluded street, you guys come here a lot. They have the best white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies ever! And even better fudge chocolate cookies. Actually, all there cookies are bomb.

Getting out of the car and running over to Mingi you kiss up and down his sore arm as he opens the door and walks in after you

You guys order your cookies and grab some drinks before sitting on a staircase outside, Mingi makes you sit in his lap as your payback for the car incident. As you sit together he keeps begging for a bite of your cookie even though he ate all of his without sharing

You have to deal with his 'aaahhh's the whole time you eat, even if you did decide to share he would keep doing this with his mouth wide open like a baby bird

After eating, you walking up and down that one street hand in hand. Mingi usually runs ahead of you but with it being night time, he wanted to stay close by you in case something happened to you or someone came by

After your little walk y'all hop back into the car and finish up your drive home

Wooyoung:

Spa Day

You and Wooyoung decided to stay inside today

You made homemade face masks, that you are each currently wearing, you did foot soaks and you have him a massage as a way to relax him

Currently, Woo was laying on the floor on his tummy his legs crossed in the air as he hums and paints your toe nails his favorite color, black.

You were falling asleep on the sofa, laid back a towel in your hair that Wooyoung washed for you, your face mask on and cucumbers over your eyes. Your hands flat on top of news papers on either side of you, the polish on your finger nails still needing time to properly dry.

Wooyoung began to sing acapella softly belting out and singing one of your favorite songs as you lay there relaxed

After he finished painting your nails he set the heels of your feet up onto a fluffy cushion to give you the utmost comfort

Next he took a bottle of lotion/cream and began rubbing it into your legs, slowly massaging the lotion from your ankle and rolling it up your calves, behind your knee and back down again giving both of your legs a massage as he continued to sing

You whispered words of thanks that be smiled too and felt happy about

He moved onto your arms and shoulders after finishing your legs

After that you both washed your faces off and took silly pictures in the mirror before Wooyoung asked you to please do his eyebrows

YES: You hopped onto the sink counter, tweezers in your hand as you pulled your boyfriend closer to you. You began plucking away stray hairs and he began complaining about the pain while still asking you to keep going. You were as gentle as possible and finished soon

NO: If you don't feel comfortable with this you would simply explain to your boyfriend that his eyebrows are perfect and they don't need to be plucked or touched up.

Your Spa Day was full of relaxation and spending time with Wooyoung, win-win for you!

You end your day by cuddling together on the sofa/in bed and taking a nap together peacefully

Jongho:

Summer Festival

The two of you wore your flower crowns that you mafe each other at the last stall as you walked from stall to stall chucking out goods and participating in lots of activitred

They had an archery stall where if you won you got a teddy bear, it was really cute. A brown bear in a sunflower tutu wearing a sunflower crown

Another stall was for pottery, either making your own pot or you could buy someone else's

The booth next to that one was full of beads for making necklaces or bracelettes, there were a lot of tutorial sheets available to help out

Of course food stalls were located between booths - spread out of course but you did have options - from Indian food and some great Chicken Tikka or Tacos a few stalls down. A Korean stall offering tteokbokki and gimbap a little ways off, or you could eat at the food court on the other side of the festival

After visiting all the stalls that caught your eye, you and Jongho set up a blanket in the shade and sat down to play some card games and other games such as Mancala and whatever small game fit in his bag

After hours of playing games, maybe kicking a soccer ball back and forth, the concert finally began.

You guys turn to face the stage, your drinks in your hands as you lay together in the back away from everyone else

Mid concert you would stand up sort of wobbly and reach your hand out to Jongho, pulling him up and making him dance with you as you laugh with him side by side

You both had fun as you swirled in circle to the melody, waved your hands in the air and jumped up and down. The night was beyond perfect

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