#and to be fair he's right. he has many allergies and he knows better. but i wasn't getting carrots! i was getting broccoli

[werehamburglar]

got assigned "carrot allergy" at the social function for good earlier so i guess im not allowed to have them anymore

[neetily]

Party For Two — (SDV) Sebastian

— ✧ warnings: love confession, mutual masturbation, premature ejaculation, creampie, fingering — ✧ word count: 6,077

— ✧ A/N: reposting some favs from my old account! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

It’s the usual hang out night, held at your farmhouse this time round because you insisted on doing your fair share of hosting, only, Sebastian can’t help but feel that it’s anything but usual. What was meant to be a four person TV series watch has now turned into a party for two. Sam, currently sick with allergies and Abigail, busy trying (and most likely failing) to beat ‘Journey Of The Prairie King’— something that Sebastian is sure will take more than one night of attempts, she’s already been stuck on it for a week... And well, he can’t really fault Sam for not wanting to make anyone else sick. If anything, he’s thankful to be the only one to show up besides you. It’s not really that bad of a turn out, not when he’s been secretly wanting to spend more alone time with just you and him anyway. Because see, he’s always been interested in you ever since you first came to the valley, and it’s as time’s went on and you slowly assimilated into his little trio friend group that he found himself thinking: yeah, four is a better number anyway. A small crush, he tells himself. Nothing serious, he jokes with Sam. No I wasn’t staring, he whispers to Abi. But deep down, he knows exactly what he feels, and as you finally come back into your living room with excitement in your eyes he knows it to be true— he wants to see that face every day going forward.

“Sorry for the wait!” You smile, his eyes drawn to your blushed cheeks when your attention is immediately focused on the TV in front of you. Tonight seems like a good time to confess, because while he certainly wants to do other things with you, it’d be rude not to make his intentions clear in the first place. To be a gentleman, and at the very least provide courtesy before anything else, smiling warmly back at you while you busy yourself with getting comfortable next to him. He likes you, and he’d be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity right in front of him. Alone, with you. There really isn’t a better scenario to confess in, is there?

“S’all right,” He half-grunts as he repositions himself to be more facing sideways so that he can keep looking at your pretty face, as he always does. “You ready for the next episode?”

“Yes!” You beam back at him, remote control in your hand as you glance at him for what he thinks is a final time tonight before starting the weekly show, so he does his best to respond in kind. It’s one that the group had decided to watch together, and though Sebastian wasn’t that interested in the premise, he did enjoy the thought of spending more time with you, which is why he mostly agreed to join in the first place. He’s grown to like the show more anyway, though he’s unsure if that’s down to the (honestly, pretty mediocre) cinematography or because he gets to stare at you for an extended period of time each week. Lovingly, of course, he’d hate to come off as a creep. Always cautious about his looking, but feeling unable to control his desires for too long before he’s eyeing you up and down again. He always waits to dive deeper into his thoughts of you until he’s home at least, mostly because he can’t stand the thought of popping a boner in front of so many people and to be left unable to live it down for the rest of his life, but also because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. Would rather the boner scenario to making you feel any negativity in any capacity. “I’m so glad Sam and Abi said it was cool to continue, I’ve been waiting all week to see what happens next!”

Ah, yeah, the romantic plot line or… Something. It’s difficult to pay attention to the current story when his vision is so full of you each week, but he’s heard you chat about it enough to get a good idea of what to expect next. The protagonist and her love interest, finally, seemingly getting together. It’s cute to see you so invested in something, and he too finds himself thankful that his friends have allowed the continuation of the series in the privacy of a company of two. “Yeah, real nice of them, huh?” He continues out of pleasantries, knowing just how much you wanna get started. Sam promised to watch the episode himself, all bundled up under blankets in his own living room— Sebastian knows his best friend is probably practicing guitar instead, and Abigail will be too stubborn to give up gaming for a show she can catch up on when you ramble about it in the group chat later. Still, there’s comfort in the space they’ve provided him, his chest warm and gaze half-lidded as you press play, the shows intro sequence filling the remaining small space left between two bodies.

He’d like to fill that space with himself, eventually.

Even during the admittedly drawn out intro you’re cutely engrossed, the glow from the TV shining in your eyes so prettily, like there were stars or something, and he cringes at his sappy internal monologue. You’re still far more interesting to watch than whatever the screen is currently showing, and he takes his time when committing every detail of you to memory tonight. The innocent way your eyes are glued to the screen, the unknowing smile on your face as your favorite character shows on screen, the way you edge just slightly off your seat as if to get closer, closer to the screen instead of his arms. He huffs impatiently, low and quiet to himself at the thought. What he wouldn’t give to have you in his lap instead, he’d even still let you watch your favorite show, so long as he could hold you. Softly touching you, kissing the top of your head as a reminder that you are wanted. So deep in his thoughts of you that he doesn’t even realize how much time has passed— it can’t be that much— but he distinctly hears a moan that drags him back to reality. A soft but sinful one, his head snapping to the source of the sound as his cheeks instinctively flush. It’s coming from the TV, an intimate sex scene including those two characters you like so much. Already? He thinks to himself, so much for tension, before he finds his eyes once again falling on you, and he gasps a little at the sight that greets him.

Too many times he’s spent lonely late nights imagining exactly how you look right now, curled up in on yourself as you avert your gaze from the screen with an almost shy look on your face. Honestly, he never thought you’d ever optionally look away when this show was on, but he thinks you’re embarrassed. A sneaky smirk plastered on his face at the realization. It is a little awkward to be watching a sex scene with your friends, he can admit that. But he finds it difficult to feel uneasy himself, too amused at the way you clear your throat as the moans continue to fill the otherwise silence of your living room, keeping his vision locked on you to see exactly how you react to the explicit scene playing out with curiosity. Something he can use again you in the future.

“We can skip past it, if you want.” He offers before really thinking, his heart pace quickening as he tries his best to resolve your discomfort. Sure, it’s fun to watch you struggle, but all he wants is for you to be happy. “Really, I don’t mind—”

“No, it’s— I mean, it’s okay, really.” You stumble over your words, flashing him an appreciative smile before lowering your head once more to the ground.

Well, okay, he thinks. You’re clearly struggling to get through the scene, and though he’d rather you welcomed his help with open arms, he doesn’t mind watching you grow increasingly riled up by the exaggerated gasps and sighs from the show. In his more perverted mind, it’s easy to imagine that he’s watching porn with you right now, a quick look back at the TV screen shows naked bodies rolling around together, sharp inhales and teasing giggles. He wonders if you’d react the same way to him, then just as promptly he corrects himself and knows he’d have you moaning louder than that. And deep down in the pit of his stomach, or a bit lower than that, he feels as though this is his chance to show you that fact too, sighing to himself as he tries to resolve his inner conflict— and obviously fails. Because it’s about you, and he hasn’t a hope in Hell when it comes to you.

“You sure?” His voice is soft, spoken lightly and carried with faux reassurance while his hand stretches out to meet your trembling thigh, sucking air in through his teeth at the way you jump from his touch. “I don’t mind, cause it seems to be… Getting to you, y’know?” He smirks through his words, knowingly teasing you despite his heart wanting nothing more than to soothe. Can’t help it, you’re too cute like this, all blushy and pouty thanks to his words. And given the chance, he’ll do more than just soothe things for you anyway, so he doesn’t feel too bad in his taunts. He notices your thighs squeeze together in response to his words, or maybe it’s because of his feather light touch, he doesn’t mind either way. Regardless, his cock stirs in his tight pants at just how easy you seem to be, how innocent and sensitive you’re acting, shying away from his view at just how quickly he’s picked up on the state of you. You like this scene, maybe a little too much, huh? Not that he’s complaining, his own heart racing at just the light drag of his knuckles up and down your leg, catching the way you shiver into him, the small bite of your lip that causes his cock to jerk against his leg. Ah, maybe confessing can wait a little bit longer.

It takes him a moment to find his voice again when you refuse to answer, and he’s surprised to hear the breathy tone he carries with his words— “You can… Y’know, deal with it, if ya want.” He pauses, gauging your reaction to his invitation to touch yourself. Internally, he’s debating on his next words with extreme caution. Sure, it’s normal to masturbate, everyone does it, everyone knows everyone does it. But, is it too weird to talk about it with your friends? Maybe only if they’re the opposite gender, right? Because he’s had countless conversations about the topic with Sam, but never with Abigail. And he realizes then that it’s because he’s got a crush on you, and rather than it being an invitation, it’s an attempt at begging. “Really, I don’t mind.” He simply settles on, smiling reassuringly at you when your eyes finally meet his. And it’s true, he doesn’t mind, would relish the opportunity to relieve himself in private too if he’s honest— the look you’re giving him going straight to his cock as he imagines fucking his friend right on the very couch you sit on.

And then quietly, almost inaudible, he hears you squeak: “Really? You’re okay with that?” and he all too eagerly nods.

“Absolutely. Who am I to judge what you get off to, right?” He half laughs, attempting to make the otherwise awkward situation just a bit less embarrassing for you, shifting in his seat to hopefully make his hard cock less noticeable. “Take your time, I’ll be right here—”

Oh, wait, you’re undressing right in front of him? Instinctively, he looks at your face for answers, a quick flit up only to be met with a playful grin. Seductive, maybe? He knows better than to assume, though more than that, he knows better than to speak up when your crush is taking the first step towards assumed intimacy. Well, there’s no hiding his hard on now, is there? Your bold actions causing his pants to feel even tighter, his hands frozen in his lap while he carefully watches you peel off each individual layer of clothing slowly. So slowly that he’s convinced you’re teasing him, the continued gasps and groans emanating from the TV fading into the distant background as he instead favors listening to the soft shuffles of your clothes, the muffled thud as they’re dropped carelessly to your floor. Fuck, he already thought you were pretty before, but seeing you take action like this almost makes him dizzy with how attractive he finds you, and his inability to take the initiative back from you due to how in awe he is of your body only further turns him on. He knows you know well enough that he hadn’t meant to take care of “business” right here and now, in front of him on your well worn couch, but he can hardly complain at how you chose to mischaracterize his words when he’s no better than you are right now. “I—” he tries to speak. “I mean— fuck, okay—” He’s laughing, though not at you, and your cheeky side smirk back at him lets him know you understand.

“Is this okay?” You whisper at him.

“Shit, yeah, no, it’s cool. I— I don’t mind, go ahead.” He struggles to get the words out fast enough, but he smiles back at you when hearing your nervous giggle.

Without realizing, he anxiously runs his hand through his hair, thumbing stray strands out his face so he has a better view of your revealing body. The last item of clothing drops and he exhales harshly, unaware of the breath he was holding up until that point. You’re naked bar your underwear, and he curses low under his breath at the mere sight. This is confirmation, isn’t it? That his feelings aren’t just one sided, that he was taking too long to confess and so your hand was metaphorically forced, swallowing hard at the sight of your hand actually dropping to pet lightly at your clothed cunt. “Fuck y’can’t just— I mean I want you to it’s just—” He’s already gasping, replaying scenarios he’s fucked his fist to at night but coming up empty. Nothing compares to you right now, the cute blush on your cheeks, the way your lips part with heavy breathing. Shit, okay, he needs to tell you exactly how he feels. Wide palmed stroking at his painfully hard cock, no shame left in his system when you’ve just given him a wordless go ahead, he’s ready to cum just from your show of want— but he instead just teases himself. Wants to really show his appreciation of you soon enough, but first he needs to take control back. You’ve had your fun, now let him.

He clears his suddenly dry throat while you angle yourself towards him, biting your lip to presumably stifle moans. No, don’t do that, he thinks, cocky confidence taking over his mind with the understanding that you’re waiting, seeking his command like a good girl— and he’s all too happy to give in to you. Watching you drag a single finger up and down your clothed slit idly, eyeing at the growing wet patch near the bottom, fuck he wants a taste— “You can take em off.” He quickly glances up at you, but as if physically pulled back down, he’s drawn to look at your cunt again, his palm circling against the clothed wet tip of his cock as he leaks precum all over the inside of his pants for you.

And though he’s controlled mostly by his cock right now, he’s still a little surprised to see you listen to his words, his voice coming out in a shocked rasp of “Fuck, you’re really doing it…” which is less of a question and more of an admiration. Because yes, while this is the single hottest thing to ever happen to him, he also genuinely likes you. Wants to be with you for more than just this, but a little indulgence never hurt anyone, right? Seems you agree from how eagerly you get moving, his eyes glued to the spot between your legs as you hike them up a little, knees pressed to your chest to give him such a good fucking view, oh my God, of your pretty little cunt before your panties peel and drop to the pile of your other clothing on the floor. His cock hard and wet, drooling over his legs enough to prompt him into at least unbuttoning his pants to offer just a little relief— only a little. Because he’s more focused on you right now, and how pretty your thighs look when pressed together like that, and how tasty your wet little cunt looks as he finds it difficult to keep himself sat in place at the other end of the couch from you, wanting only to dive head first between your legs to eat you dry— he’s never been hornier than he is right now, and it’s all your fault. He’s got front row seats to the best show in the house— you, and he’s filled with need to show you that you’re a lot hotter than whatever they were showing on TV.

“Touch yourself, please— God,” He ends up begging, too turned on to really care for the embarrassment of sounding so needy, and it seems you’re much the same. A small whine escaping your lips that, he swears, almost makes him cum on the spot. So completely fraught with need for you right now that his body automatically turns to face you, one leg bent and pressed against the back of the couch while the other hangs off the edge, his rock hard cock front and center for you to masturbate to— no regret present on his features as he looks to your moving fingers with glazed over eyes, his mouth remaining slightly agape while he breathes shallowly. This is so much better than anything his mind could create, his chest tight with want for you and his balls full of seed, the palm resting on his cock now digging harder, circling his cock faster in a plead to have you match his pace. You must know what you do to him, otherwise you wouldn’t be taking your time so slowly, bitting on the inside of his cheek with impatience until your finger finally meets your slit and your legs magically open. And fuck, what a sight that is. His hips jut up on their own accord once you’re in position, head tilted back slightly as if to try and calm himself down before snapping back to watch you part your lips and drag a finger from bottom to top on your slit.

No amount of porn could have prepared him for this, the intimacy present in each glide of your finger up and down your cunt, collecting the slick drooling from your hole to drag it back up to your clit. He can hear just how wet you are, heart caught in his throat as he swallows thickly in concentration. “You’re not watching the show…” You mewl, and he has half a mind to pin you under him right there and then.

“Don’t care, this is better.” He’s quick to moan. “Can you— Can you go a little faster?”

You nod, and he has to fight with himself to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull at the sweet sounds you let out at the increased pace. His fist wraps tight around the bit of cock he can reach before he grows immediately frustrated and instead digs his hands under his pants to free his cock some more, sighing into the relaxed feeling of freedom until he once again starts to palm at himself— then he’s tight lipped groaning. He feels like a dirty pervert, touching himself to you touching yourself, and he wonders if you feel the same. He thinks you should feel like royalty, the full effect you have on him in clear display as he touches himself to you, struggles to keep his hands to himself when you sound so pretty for him. And you’re such a good listener too, his cock jerking to the understanding that you want to please him too, fucking your little cunt faster as per his words, your palm sticky with slick that he wants to lick all clean for you.

He can’t hold back much longer.

“Do you mind if I—?” He asks, alluding to his cock as he nods down to it— still clothed, still rock hard and needy, still leaking precum, still wanting to be balls deep in you.

A quick nod of your head and he’s pulling his pants off faster than he’s ever done in his life, boxers coming with them as he clumsily tugs them off enough to kick them the rest of the way, throwing them into his own pile of clothing on the floor to half match your state of nakedness. He hisses into the cold air that kisses his tip once free, almost moaning as it slaps against his tummy with how rigid he is. “So fuckin’ hard—” He hums, mostly to himself, but he’s happy you’ve heard him too given the soft moan you let out too. “Look at what you did to me, fuck, what you do to me—” He praises you, leaning back against the armrest of your couch to fuck his hips forward, just a little, as if to really show off just how much he wants you, his fist quickly connecting to the base of his cock before he’s dragging it upwards to collect the copious amounts of precum you’ve pulled out of him and pulling back down, coating his whole length wet to tug at. And he’s not shy about it either, too far gone with the lust pooling in his tummy to care much for anything other than the need to get off, to get off with you. As he always does, really, even if most nights he’s alone in doing so, but now’s his opportunity to show you how much he likes you— cock hard and ready just for you, because of you.

He doesn’t mind an audience as he jacks off, so long as that audience consists of you. Hurriedly fucking his fist to a desperate tempo to try and quell the butterflies that fill his chest every time you make a sound, pulling the hem of his hoodie up to reveal some of his toned tummy for you to gawk at, to somewhat return the favor. God, you sound better than he thought you would, his own moans caught and quiet as he does his best to instead make room for you, to listen intently, ignoring the loud schlick of his fist pumping up and down on his dribbling cock and rather focusing on the wet squelch of your little cunt. How fast your fingers fuck into yourself, how he hopes to God you’re thinking of him, wanting to replace your fingers for his cock as he so urgently needs to. No words are said, not that he can think of any anyway— head empty and replaced with primal need, wanting moans shared among friends as he gets off with you. How he wishes he could speak though, to tell you how hot you are, how he’s dreamed of this for so long, how he’s so close to cumming just from watching you— doesn’t even have to be touched by you, just being in your presence is enough to get him off. And he’s focusing so hard on the way you flick at your clit, how fastly you circle against it, learning exactly what you like so he can hopefully mimic it at a later date all while he’s thrusting into his tightly closed fist and mumbling your name like some sort of prayer.

He’s getting dangerously close, and he hasn’t even been able to appreciate you like you deserve, show you exactly how he feels about you. And so—

“You wanna— wanna ride me?” He ends up choking out, acting out of pure instinct and talking before fully realizing his words, eyes rolling to the back of his head despite his best efforts when instead of verbally responding, you start climbing towards him. All of it happens so fast, his knees buckling and straightening out on the couch, sliding further down the length of it so that only his head remains on the armrest and you have plenty room to sit on top. His hands work on autopilot, finding home on your hips to help steady you above his lap as your nails rake up his tummy, digging under his hoodie to drag it further up his chest, causing him to moan into the hunger of your actions. Urgency is what he feels, desperate for the feeling of you wrapped around him as you immediately take hold of the base of his cock as soon as you can, his hips bucking into your touch to seek the tightness of your hole, unable to stop the tense moans tumbling from his open mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, guide it in— Sit on it, yeah?” he hopelessly babbles, fingers digging into the fat of your waist to try and pull you down his cock as you catch the tip to your hole— and then he’s done for. Completely at your mercy as you slow the tempo down, gradually fucking more of his length into your little cunt with subtle bounces until he’s all the way inside and he can finally breathe again. It’s difficult keeping himself held back enough not to hurt you when you feel better than anything he’s experienced before, his jaw strained and appreciative moans high-strung as he wills his hips to still for a second or two, let you grow accustomed to his fat length.

It takes him a second to actually collect his breath though, mind clouded by how tight and warm you are wrapped around his stupidly hard cock— so much so that it’s impossible to form any coherent thought as you sit flush on his lap. “No idea.” He manages to mumble, groaning at the seductive way your breathe huh? in response. Causes his hips to fuck upwards into you regardless of his best efforts, trying to thrust deeper into your tiny hole until there’s nothing left for you to take and grinding his hips against you. “You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted this, fuck.” His hands dragging your waist down to circle you on his cock for you, doing all of the heavy lifting simply because he can’t stop. “Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ inside of you, shit, y’feel so good—” he continues to gasp, his ass lifted off the couch under him to really drive his cock further into you. The action causing you to whine his name so perfectly, so sweetly as he circles his cock in you that he’s forced into more movement. Like something inside of him snaps, the last remaining resolve he has to treat you right falling the moment he hears his name sounding like that. And then he’s going, his beg for you to ride him thrown out the window as soon as he thrusts once into you, instead forcing you to fall back down on his cock with every precise hump of his cock into you, bouncing you up and down at his own pace due to how powerful and needy his thrusts are. You’re not riding him so much as he’s fucking you from below, keeping you pinned close to his cock so that he’s barely exiting your perfect cunt despite humping you into the air. He holds on to you like his life depends on it, a droning whine escaping his lips at the increased friction he fucks into you with, spilling loads of precum against your insides that inevitably end up running back down his cock with each speedy thrust. And your tits, God your fuckin’ tits, hypnotized by they way they bounce with his fucks— so badly does he want to reach out and grab one of em, drag it into his mouth for him to feed on while he fucks you raw— fuck he’s fucking you raw. A rough growl clawing up his throat at the thought, feels too fucking good to warn you of his predicament, can’t stop fucking into you like he was under a spell.

A shuddered “Tight little cunt, yeah? Feel s’fuckin’ good, shit— Look so hot riding me like this—” cut off only by a gasp at the sound of you so needy for more, his cock throbbing inside of you with want to preform but he’s so close it almost pains him to hold back. He was right, you are louder than the show girl, self assurance running through him and going right to his tip with the confidence that he’s fucking you better, the loud skin on skin slap resonating in the room to drown out whatever is left of the TV. He’s never felt so good before in his life, unable to even imagine going back to a life of just his hand now that he’s had a taste of your cunt, the feeling of your legs squeezing around him as you attempt to match his speed only to inevitably fail from how frantically he thrusts into you from below is too fucking cute, his balls tight and taut as he nears his end before he’s even truly started: something that would be embarrassing if not for the fact that he hopes you understand it’s because you really do feel that fucking good and he’s genuinely that in love with you that he can’t— he can’t hold back any longer. Fucking his dream girl while she displays herself so completely on top? The sight of your tits, your cute scrunched up face, the feeling of your cute little cunt sucking his cock so well? Yeah, there’s no way he was gonna last very long.

“Sorry— M’sorry, babe—” he whines, a high pitched sound to match his eager humps as he’s unable to stop the predictable from happening, looking directly into your eyes in hopes of communicating just how badly he wants to make it up to you immediately following as he thrusts into you a couple more times, fast and hard, burying himself completely into you before shooting a fat load deep inside your tiny cunt. A soft sob of your name followed by loud, gasped moans, like he’s forgot how to breathe again, his hips still obsessively humping into you to prolong his orgasm— the best of his life, might he add— and to fuck his cum deeper into you in some sort of innate need to claim you, insides and all. He said he was sorry, but he isn’t really. Not even when you let out a pathetic whine from the loss of stimulation, promising you: “Jus’ a minute, gimmie a sec.” With harsh pants as he allows himself to come down just enough to move back into action. He wants to act fast, to build upon what he’s just promised you.

“C’mere,” he breathlessly pleads with you, signaling for you to hop off his cock for a moment, forgetting all about the mess his cum will surely stain into your couch. “Jus’ sit right there, trust me.”

And because you’re a good girl, you listen, and he tuts affectionately down at you to soothe the pout you’re sporting. “Lean back a bit for me, yeah? Let me apologize.” He whispers, soft and flirtatiously, helping to guide you into position on your back, similar to how he was just moments ago while he hovers over you. The confused stare you look back at him with is so cute, and he can feel his mushy affection for you edge back in as his cock controlled brain starts to calm down, now focused solely on making sure you’re seen to as his dominant hand dips and disappears between your legs. Not a second later and he’s collecting the dripping cum he’s just fucked into you from your hole, using it as lube to rub gently at your clit as you look at him with shock. “Told ya.” He smiles, rubbing soothingly at your inner thigh with his free hand while he strokes your puffy clit. “Sensitive girl, made me feel so good, fuck— Y’look so pretty like this,” he dotes on you, hoping his words will help you get off where his cock failed— though he doesn’t think you mind too much. Not with how your grasping so insistently to his loose hoodie for stability, or from the way your legs wriggle and draw him closer, the room filled with your enticing moans each time he completes a circle on your clit. Now, with a clearer head and with you quite literally in the palm of his hand, he coos down at you with intent. “Think I love you. Really.” And he can’t stop the loving smile that tugs on his lips, nor the surprised sigh that sneaks up on him as he feels your locked thighs tremble around his back.

Next time, he’ll have you cumming on his cock. He has to, the sight of your back arching into him, the lewd expression you wear so well with the voiceless moan, fuck, he can feel his cock harden again just from pleasing you. His heart full at the thought that hearing his confession is what finally made you cum, humming quietly down to you while he finger fucks you through your high, thumb still rubbing lightly against your used clit while you gush for him— “So pretty, good girl.” He compliments you, praising you for a job well done in getting him off and satisfying his need to see you finish, too. It’s all he wants, really. To make you happy by any means necessary, and he’s happy to fill the role you had him play tonight any day, gently helping you come down from your high with slowly decreased movements until you lazily smile back at his adoring expression.

“Feelin’ good?” He asks calmly, because he obviously knows the answer already, but he wants to check in with you regardless.

You nod sleepily, followed by a soft “Mhm, thank you.” Before reaching you arms out for him to lean into, and he enthusiastically gives you what you’re seeking, his half hard cock resting against your sticky cunt as he wraps his arms around you too, pulling you in for a tight hunched over hug on your (now) stained couch.

Better than any show ever, he’s sure.

“I meant it, y’know.” He whispers against your neck after a silent moment, nosing further into it until he’s able to place a few light kisses against your heated skin with a smile.

“I know.” You reply, and he can’t help but remain hopeful when you squeeze his body tighter, wrapping your legs around him further to ask for more closeness. “But you made me miss my favorite show, so…”

He laughs a genuine, deep, bark of laughter against your shoulder before he huffs defiantly, pulling himself off your exhausted body with the intent on chastising you for alluding to the fact that your show is better than his sex, but he can’t find any strength left in him to tell you off after catching sight of how pretty you are when all fucked out. So instead, “I know, I’m sorry.” He relents, sitting back into his original side of the couch to stretch out a bit. “We can try watching again after a shower, if you want?”

“Yeah.” You yawn, and his heart hurts with just how much he loves you. The simplistic domesticity of the moment getting to his head as you extend a hand for him to hold, to help you get to your feet. “I’d like that.”

He’ll just have to get your return confession out of you… After your show.

[ohgodimafraud]

td//iapt - lu//cifer

my age is invalid

hi i really like this neet and i like that he has so much canon snz. ive had this in my drafts for like over a month but i got nothin better to do so here i hope u enjoy

Just when Urushihara thought he was in the clear from horrific sinus symptoms, his body firmly corrected him first thing in the morning. Apparently the more-than-week-long allergy attack he’d endured—courtesy of the kitten Maou had brought home—hadn’t been enough suffering for him. The fact that the headache accompanying the dull aching in his sinuses had come on together full force indicated this was something different. Something new, yet tauntingly familiar. 

Even with the little evidence he’d gone off, he’d done a double take when he’d gotten up to stock the closet with snacks and to bring the computer in to make sure nobody had decided to bring another cat in from the cold. Upon further inspection, nothing seemed suspicious and he remembered they’d all been in somewhat early for the night. Yep, he’s sick. 

After many failed sleeping attempts, Urushihara had to admit to himself that he’s stuck awake for the time being. The bottled tea tasted especially sweet in his mouth as it washed away the grime from breathing exclusively through it and throughout the hour he’d spent grieving his inability to sleep. He’d done his best to stay quiet enough to convince everyone outside of the closet of otherwise, but it’s starting to hurt to muffle his coughs into his sleeve. And even worse is—

“hGNxnt!” 

—Pinching his nose shut to sneeze. After the amount of grief everyone had given him for his allergy attack, he’s not looking forward to his roommates and neighbor taking notice of this too. They’re gonna be pissed. The computer screen went black as he opened a new tab and he gave himself a wry look before typing in his next search. 

This sucks; he can’t even enjoy the rabbit hole dive on The Sims he’d started on the computer when playing the actual game had become too much of a struggle (stupid overheating computer). His tired eyes trudged on deep into the Fridge Logic section of the TV Tropes page as he tried to bore himself back to sleep. Maybe he’d feel better if he ordered something? 

Oh no.

“Hihh…” The tickle in his nose had become fierce from being denied its full resolution. “Nnh…hh…h-ngxht!” 

And now he’s gone and made it worse. 

“hh-....hihhtschh’iuhhh! --ahkSHhh’iuh!” he sneezed a little too freely against the hand he’d thrown up in front of his face too late. Damnit. Maybe Ashiya won’t notice. Goosebumps prickle across his skin and create art with the speckles of spray. “hh- hhyhh...hihh! ehhdtSChh’hiehh!” 

What had started as a dull ache in his throat this morning, has evolved into a monstrous omnipresent itch always creeping deeper into his sinuses; each sneeze counterintuitively only seems to make the desperation to sneeze again worse. Time to look something else up. He sneezes again and forces a few miserable sniffles to avoid letting any of the mess that’s threatening to escape to do just that. He’s genuinely wondering if Ashiya would kill him for wiping his nose on his sleeve, but he’s starting to run low on options; he’d depleted their tissue supply down to nothing last week, and he knows his roommates were already pissed at him from his most recent purchases to want to approve any additional expenses. 

“Must you continue these theatrics?” Ashiya’s voice chimed in from outside the closet, fist rapping on the door. Speak of the devil…Or in this case Alciel.  “Good morning. Oh, no. That’s not right, it’s not morning—it’s two PM.”

Urushihara sniffled and sneezed loudly again before giving a petulant greeting. “Hell-fucki’gg-o to you too.”

“I vacuumed thoroughly already and I’ve no plans to do so again,” Ashiya said with a scowl in reference to his efforts in removing all the cat dander. In all fairness, he had vacuumed and dusted and disinfected with his usual diligence. “Time to get up. You can’t keep avoiding your chores like the plague.”

“hehtk’SCHhhu!” Urushihara answered. He hadn’t heard half of what Ashiya said while his breath was hitching. “Greadt choice of words, dude.” He rolls his eyes. “I thingk I’mb sigck.”

Ashiya opened the door and sighed, forehead scrunching as if he’s the one with a headache. “You’re kidding.”

“Yeah, I’mb ju-juhh—” He sniffled again, fighting for his life to keep his nose from running whilst trying to keep next breath from snagging and triggering another onslaught of sneezing. Unfortunately, sneezing again is inevitable and has to pick between the glorious options of letting his nose run or sacrificing the shirt or the thin blanket wrapped tightly around himself. “Hehh…” He cups the blanket over his face before letting out a boisterous sneeze. “Jusdt sdneezi’gg for the lullz.”

“You can not be sick, you barely leave the closet, never mind the apartment! And, hey, that blanket was just—” 

“HEHhhkshh! Mbaybe I’mb allergic to you thend.” 

“Ugh!” Ashya takes a step back. “I think you sneezed on the blanket and the computer at the same time. How?”

“Doh one else uses the combputer addyway,” Urushihara said awkwardly, scrubbing his nose with the back of his hand. As an afterthought, he wiped the laptop screen he’d evidently misted with the hem of his shirt and pretended not to notice the dagger-like glare Ashiya’s eyes had been pushing into him. 

Ashiya sighed and walked away and returned with a three-ply mask. “Here, at least attempt to not spread your germs everywhere. His Highness does not receive much in terms of sick leave, and as you know, the household budget is stretched thinly enough as it is.”

“Thangk you for your concerned. I’ll jusdt stay in here,” he said sarcastically as he fixed the loops of the mask over his ears. He sniffled thickly and pointedly added, “You’re probably bedtter off leavi’gg the door closed.” 

Urushihara had dismissed him, but Ashiya continued to stand there in some form of disbelief, so back on his ears went his headphones. He knew the soundproof ones would  be worth it. He easily returned his full attention to his search: Cold, flu, allergies, sinusitis. Hm.

Ahsiya pulled the headphones off his head. “If you were really trying to get better, you’d be resting, not rotting over your computer.”

“It’s releveddt research, Bo’b.” Urushihara said, not moving his tired eyes from the screen. “And be careful with these, they were expendsive.”

“How expensive?” 

“Mbore expend’sive if you break themb and we have to order an’dother pair.” After skimming a few articles, he finds a website with a seemingly useful tool that'll hopefully bring him one step closer to figuring out how to get rid of this world’s ailments.

“You’re lucky I don’t have the internet disconnected. What’s that?”

Uriushihara was too fixated on using the WebMD Symptom Checker to hear what he said. It was not off to the best start. “Oh, not even my age is valid, huh.” 

“What?...And who is this Bob?”

“What?”

“You said you were researching Bob?” 

Urushihara’s head spun for a moment. What the fuck? His head felt like cotton as he recalled their exchange. Idiot. “Mbo’bb,” He attempted to amend. It didn’t help the confusion. He sniffled—or at least tried to—a few times and groaned. “Emb Oh Emmmmb. Ugh. Forget idt.” 

“How can you have a runny nose and congestion?”

Whether that was in reference to the list of symptoms or the pathetic display, Urushihara didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. Another thing this mask is good for is hiding the flush that just crossed his cheeks from the mix of concern and disgust written all over Ashiya’s face. “The hell if I n’dow.” He adds “headache” to the list and casts a glare at the man who’s hanging over him like a damn tree. 

“Hheh…h-” He has to stop searching as his nose starts to run again and drags the creeping tickle from the back of his nose forward. At least he’s already wearing a mask, he supposed. It gives him the maximum amount of time to try reading without the nuisance of having to turn away from the screen. “h-huhh…EhhdzsSCHhh’iyuhh! Guhh…” He sniffled and shook his head as the relief from the sneeze was lost to the pounding in his head.

“Don't forget sneezing,” Ashiya reminded him with an eye roll. 

“Yeah yeah. Hilarious.”

“Really chills? Do you have a fever?”

��Dude, I dunndo we don’dt have a—” Urushihara didn’t get the chance to horrifically pronounce the word “thermometer” before Ashiya’s palm came flying at his forehead like he was aiming to smash a mosquito into his skull. He shrinks back into himself like a frightened turtle at the unwanted human contact. “T-Too close…”

“Hm. Best put fever down too.”

Urushihara shrugged, not risking another breath, never mind attempting to make another thanks, Mom type of remark, with how precarious his grip on the next sneeze threatening to escape is. It’s proven futile when he inevitably has to breathe.

“ndtKSH! IHHSHHhu! Guhh…” The inside of his mask felt particularly disgusting after that set of sneezes. He grimaced and clicked around a bit more before continuing to the results. They both pretend to not hear the crackling in Urushihara’s sinuses joining in the cadence of the clicking and typing.

“You’d think someone so small wouldn’t be able to sneeze so loudly,” Ashiya mused. 

“Ugh, dude ah-hehhH- hhh…f-fucgk off.” Urushihara paused to steady his breathing to avoid a repeat performance. He cleared his throat indignantly, bang conveniently shifting to cover more of his face. His hair along with his mask have effectively covered a good 75% of it. “I guess it’s a cold or flu. Dunndo.”

He clicked back and forth to compare while Ashiya continued to hover. “Either way, it looks like rest is the best remedy.” And with that, he confiscated the laptop and held it out of Urushihara’s reach. 

“H-hey! What th-the heh…hh-hHYSCHh’iew!” 

Slam.

The sound of aerosol spray followed, and then the pungent scent of disinfectant, and then another loud sneezing fit. It’s only when Urushihara  has resigned himself to trying to sleep again that there’s more knocking—this time at the front door. Ashiya answered the door to a stern-looking Suzuno.

“Tell me you didn’t bring another stray in,” she commanded, looking past him. 

“What?” 

“Do not lie.” Suzuno peeked in, looking around, perhaps hopeful that there really is a cat in the room. She shook her head and glared at Alciel. “I can hear Lucifer sneezing from next door.”

“I’ll have you know, I did no such—”

“Is that poison?”

“It’s Lysol!”

When the bickering seemed like it wasn’t going to resolve itself fast enough, Urushihara sighed and put his mask back on before opening the closet door. “N’dot allergies. I’mb sick.” he said miserably before slamming the door again. 

“He’s a bit cranky because he exceeded his screen time for the day.”

“Screw you.” The voice crack that accompanied the phrase and the chesty cough that followed stripped him of what little remaining NEET pride he retained after Ashiya had talked about him like he’s Alas Ramus’ age.

“If you don’t mind, he needs to nap.”

***

Maou came home with tissues. He, too, had been kept up by Urushihara’s sporadic coughing and sneezing; the closet door could only muffle so much, and Urushihara wasn’t exactly one to ail quietly. Eventually they’d just put white noise videos on the laptop to act as a buffer for all of the noise.

He yawned and announced his arrival, quietly in case Urushihara was actually sleeping. (And if that’s the case, he’d take advantage of the peace and enjoy a nap.) “Hey, Ashiya. Look, free tissues? Isn’t Japan great?”

“Oh?” Ashiya’s face lit up at the word free. 

“And when I mentioned my roommate was sick, she gave me a whole handful,” Maou whispered excitedly.

“Excellent, Sire!” Ashiya praised, holding a few packets of pocket tissues. He sighs.“Though at the rate he’s going, we’ll be out by tomorrow. Again.”

Maou pointed at the closet. “Is he…?”

“I don’t know.” Ashiya shrugged and frowned. He lowered his voice. “He finally went to sleep an hour ago, and he still had a fever.”

“Still?” Maou frowned. “Chi said he should see a doctor if it lasts more than three days.”

“I’ll make sure it does not come to that.” Somehow, Urushihara was the only one of the trio to have not landed himself in the hospital, and it’d be best to keep it that way. Ashiya’s brow furrowed at the risks involved with the situation. Even beyond the risks to the budget.

“It should be okay, fevers are pretty common,” Maou smiles. Lightly he added, “Besides, all he ever does is rest.” 

“hyHEH’gkSChh!” The hoarse noise was muffled by the closet, but they were standing close enough that they could hear the familiar sound of Urushihara’s sneeze.

“Could you guys ligke stop talk’igg about mbe?” he complained, snuffling noisly.

“Chi says that’s just a superstition.”

“Seriously? Thatd’s like our whole thi’gg.” 

They shared a moment of silence. 

“How are you feelin’, man?” Maou asked, changing the subject. Urushihara coughed. “Not great, huh?”

“Are you gonnda give mbe a tissue or are you just gonnda stare at me?” 

“Watch your tongue and be grateful, Lucifer!”

“Here,” Maou said, handing him a few packs. 

***

“Here. The pharmacist told me this is one of the most commonly used cold medicines.” Suzuno passed the bag over to Ashiya. As Ashiya bent to thank her, she interrupts, “Do not mistake this as an act of kindness, I am merely tired of being kept up all night.”

“heh’GKSCHh’hiuhh!” 

“I can’t thank you enough,” Ashiya said with a slight bow. He rapped on the closet door with the backs of his knuckles. “Urushihara, come take your medicine.”

“There’s something else for you, Lucifer,” Suzuno said as the closet door creaked open. She reached into the pocket of her kimono and revealed a folded piece of paper and held it out to him. “It’s from Alas Ramus, apparently she’s worried about you.” 

Urushihara opened it to reveal a card drawn by the kid. He’s pretty sure the two blobs in the corner were meant to be them together, and scrawled over a heart were the words git well sun looshifa. “W-well, mbake sure you tell her I’mb not dyi’gg or anddythi’gg!!” he protested, eyes prickling with tears. He clears his throat and carefully folds the card and tucks it away into one of the nooks in the closet, and ignores the proud smile on Maou’s face as he takes the most disgusting swallow of his life.

“Don’t grimace like that, you’re older than everyone in the room put together,” Suzuno scolded. 

“Dude, that’s ndot what grape tastes like!”

“He means thank you.” 

“...Thank you,” he said hesitantly, face warming over to his ears. 

Suzuno cleared her throat. “Get plenty of rest.”

And soon enough, the Devil's Castle was at peace again, at least for the evening.

[galwednesday]

Inktober drabbles (100 words each) for days 1 - 5:

GARGOYLE

Mabel's favorite thing about the apartment building she'd lived in for some sixty years was the gargoyles. They gave the place some class. Even better, they were the cheapest laundry service in the city.

Dry, neatly folded shirts filled the basket she'd left by the kitchen window full of wet clothes yesterday evening. The clothesline where they'd hung overnight held only a pair of hot pink fingerless gloves flapping gently against the glass. Mabel worked the gloves over the outstretched stone hands of the gargoyle perched motionless on the windowsill, making a note to buy more neon yarn that weekend.

SCURRY

Rats fled sinking ships. His tower was sinking, crumbling, and burning simultaneously, so leaving was the smart move. Watching his familiar turn tail and streak away shouldn't have sent a betrayed pang through his chest. 

In fairness, the pang could’ve been the broken ribs. 

Either way, he was surprised when Whiptail returned. "No, you were right," he said. "Get--ow!"

Whiptail released her teeth and screeched at him like an aggravated modem. He blinked at the teleportation token she'd dragged into his hand.

"Oh, best lab assistant," he said fervently, and tucked her securely against his chest before activating it.

BATS

The problem with turning into a cloud of bats was getting the right bats back. It was common to swap body parts after a group swarm; it wasn't common to file lawsuits about it.

"If they look so similar," the mediator said, "does it really matter who has whose nose?"

"Yes," the claimant said, "because this nose has allergies. I have a cat! Would I have gotten a cat if I had allergies?"

The defendant shrugged. "People do crazy things for love."

The mediator pulled the evidence file out of the way just before the claimant went over the table.

SCALLOP

It had lived in many forests, dug deep into leaf litter and gaps under logs, sharing space with flora, fauna, and fungi. But nobody had ever come to visit before.

"We try to be neighborly," the wolf said, and thrust his offering forward. His fur was tucked away until the next lunar peak, but his teeth, bared in a friendly smile, were still sharp. "Hope you like scalloped potatoes!"

It blinked, one eye after the other. Potatoes. Not crunchy brown lumps underground, but white circles layered like snake scales. Like full moons. "Yes," it decided, and accepted the casserole dish.

FLAME

Sadie knows not to play with fire, fire the devourer, the consumer, the Devil's hunger that leaps from farm to farm when the storm wards fail, but since the tiny flicker she found in the stump of a lightning-struck tree isn't like that, it must not be fire after all.

Fire is supposed to burn, and her new friend only dances bright like sunlight on water between her palms. She tucks it into her overalls and goes about her chores, reminding it to be gentle as the calves nose it curiously, sneezing at the tickle and crowding around its warmth.

[baepsaesbae]

Spring Will Come Again

Pairing— Jeon Jungkook x reader    

Genre— Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!reader, SMUT +18, fluff, angst, Virgin!Jungkook, Sub!Jungkook, Switch!Jungkook

Warnings— Finger sucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting (?), slight choking, there are a lot of emotions, Jungkook is literally so sweet gosh I just wanna hold him tight, this fic is kind of a rollercoaster of emotions bc I myself do b going thru it

Word Count—  ~10.9k  

Summary— Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever?

A/N— This beautiful banner was made by @dee-ehn​! Please let me know what you think of this fic! Hope you guys enjoy~

It all started on a beautiful spring day. Something had convinced you to go on an unprecedented early morning walk for some reason. 

The morning air was cold but crisp. You were bundled up in your favorite sweater, and the scarf that your grandmother knitted for you was wrapped snugly around your neck. Normally you would be immersed in your headphones, but since today was already unusual you decided to forgo the music. 

You walked along the banks of the stream that flowed next to your neighborhood. This particular stream held nothing but fond memories. You grew up here with all the other kids. During the summer breaks, you’d play out here from morning to nightfall. This was the place where you saw your first fireflies, and where you won your first fist fight. 

You stopped to sit on the grassy hill that ran alongside the banks, relishing in nostalgia as you took in a breath of fresh air. Everything is so different now. Everyone moved away to pursue their careers or to go to a big university. You were the only one left. Your parents urged you to go to college, but you refused. Who else would help run the bakery? 

As much as you hated to see it, your parents were growing old. Managing the family bakery was getting harder on them. You were such a huge help to them since you basically managed all of the front-of-house work. They worked diligently in the kitchen every day to create the best baked goods in town. 

You had always dreamt of leaving this small town. You’ve fantasized about attending a big university in the middle of a bustling city since you were a little kid. Unfortunately, that can’t happen now. You can’t leave your parents or the bakery behind. You held no resentment though, you loved it. Being an only child was a bit lonely at times, but your parents made you feel loved no matter what.

You laid on the grassy hill, watching the clouds roll by. Maybe life was better this way. It was simple, and you always knew what to expect. Day in and day out, the routine was always the same. 

Everything changed on that day. That was the fateful day that you ran into him. Or rather, he ran into you. 

“Good morning, ____! Where were you this morning? Why weren’t you answering your phone?” your concerned mother asked when you returned home.

“Morning mom. I went on a walk and forgot my phone I guess. Sorry about that. I ended up laying on the hill by the stream,” you replied as you sat at the breakfast table.

Living with bakers was probably one of the biggest blessings in your life. Every meal smelled delectable and you had access to all the fresh goodies you could desire. 

“Wow, you were awake before we were? What a surprise. Here, tell me what you think of this loaf,” your dad set it in front of you.

You tossed a piece of bread into your mouth. The taste was savory to say the least. It was your father’s signature banana bread loaf, only this time with a small twist. 

“Why’d you take out the walnuts? It’s still delicious though,” you said, devouring another piece.

“Well so many customers complain about having nut allergies now. I thought we could sell more if we take them out! You think we can sell this?” he asked eagerly.

“I think this will be our newest best seller!” you happily replied, “I’m gonna go open up the shop. See you guys soon,” you kissed them each on the cheek before taking your leave.

The bakery was down the street from your house, so the commute was only about 5 minutes even if you walked slowly. You brought your phone with you this time, so you were jamming out to your music, oblivious to the outside world. You were so out of it, that you didn’t have time to react to the person quickly rounding the corner.

One moment you were walking to work, the next you were knocked onto the cold hard ground. Your assailant fell on top of you, and you soon locked eyes with him. It was as if time stood still for a moment. He was the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. His eyes were wide with concern, and for a moment, you swore you saw stars twinkling within them. 

It took a second to register that this stranger was on top of you, in a compromising position no less. You’ve never been this close to a boy since...well it has been a while. Your legs were intertwined and his nose was only inches from yours. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you until the last second,” the boy apologized as he scrambled to get off of you. 

As he helped you up, you reassured him that you were fine. You laughed off the incident and took the boy by surprise. You had the most angelic laugh he’d ever heard. He stood awkwardly gazing at you, before you asked him if he was okay. 

“I-I’m fine! I’m glad you’re okay. I apologize again for being so careless,” he bowed.

“I’m also at fault! I wasn’t paying attention either. So shame on both of us,” you smiled to show him you were joking, “Enjoy the rest of your day, don’t run into anyone else!”

And with that, you parted ways. You forgot about the stranger as the morning rush piled into the bakery. 

Despite being located in a small town, your parent’s were nationally renowned bakers. The bakery was always busy. That was part of why you loved it so much, you were never bored. The regular customers were your favorite. Most of the townsfolk had been coming to the bakery since you were little. 

“Is this banana bread new?” Mrs. Park, the local florist, asked.

“Technically, yes. It’s the exact same recipe but without the walnuts,” you replied.

“Perfect! I’m not too fond of walnuts but I adore your parents’ banana bread,” Mrs. Park beamed, handing you a loaf along with other goods she picked up.

“How’s Jimin?” you asked as you rang her up.

“Oh he’s doing well! He loves it out there in the big city. At first, I was terrified of letting him go. He’s just always been so passionate about dancing, I finally had to cave in. He recently auditioned to be part of some fancy dance crew, and he got in! Can you believe it?” Mrs. Park began to dote on her son.

“That’s amazing! I’m happy for him,” you smiled.

“You know, ____, Jimin is still single. You two would be perfect together--”

“Long distance relationships are hard, Mrs. Park,” your mother interrupted her, swooping in to save the day. Thank god. You wouldn’t have known how to react. 

“She could always move out to the city to be with him!” Mrs. Park retorted, not picking up on the awkward situation she created. 

“I could never leave the bakery,” you responded quickly.

“Ah, yes that’s right. You have such a good daughter, Mrs. _____. Jimin never took any interest in taking over the family business. I’m jealous of you!” Mrs. Park said to your mom.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Park finally left. You were fond of her, but she never knew when to stop talking. Jimin was a good friend of yours growing up. You never wanted to admit that you had a huge crush on him. You figured it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since he was so fixated on moving out. 

The morning rush had died down. You took this opportunity to restock and tidy things up before the afternoon rush. The store bell rang, indicating the arrival of another customer.

“Welcome in! I’ll be with you shortly,” you called out from behind the counter. 

“No worries, thanks!” the customer yelled back.

Once finished, you popped up with a bright smile on your face. Your parents taught you to always greet the customers with a smile as soon as they walk in. 

However, the customer wasn’t facing your direction. He was looking at the baked goods that aligned the opposite wall. You patiently waited for him to make his selection. He kept walking back and forth, eyeing all of the baked items. You left your station behind the counter and approached him.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?” you piped up behind him.

The man jumped back, startled.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

“It’s okay! I didn’t hear you at all. You must be some sort of ninja-- Oh it’s you!” the boy turned around to face you.

It was the gorgeous boy who ran into you earlier. 

“Hello again! I guess it was my turn to frighten you,” you joked.

“That’s fair,” he nodded, “What’s the best thing here?”

“Mmm that’s hard for me to say, considering that I love them all. What kind of tastes and textures do you like?” your customer service persona kicked in. 

“I like sweet things I guess? I like bananas too…” he trailed off.

“We don’t have any bananas in fruit form, but we do have killer banana bread,” you beamed.

“That sounds good, but I don’t really like nuts so--”

“There are no nuts in our new recipe! You must be lucky, this is the first day that we’ve started selling them. Want me to ring you up a loaf?” you interrupted him.

“Oh no nuts? Okay, I’ll try it,” he agreed quietly.

“Would you still like to get something sweet as well?” 

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” he nodded timidly.

“Of course it’s okay! My personal favorite is our milk pudding bun. The pudding in the middle is pretty creamy plus the bread is unbelievably soft! If that’s not for you, then we have a classic chocolate bun filled with, surprise surprise, chocolate. We also have…” you led the boy around the entire bakery.

You were too focused on recommending various breads to notice him stealing glances at you that lingered longer than normal. He patiently let you talk his ear off about the goodies.

“I’ll go with the milk pudding bun,” he smiled shyly.

“That was the first one! You should’ve stopped me from rambling,” you huffed.

“I wanted to know my options. Plus you seemed pretty happy,” he added softly.

“Alright, let’s go check you out then,” you headed to the counter, “I haven’t seen you before. What brings you to our little town?” you attempted to make conversation.

“Mmm, to get away, I guess,” the boy said after a pause.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” you leaned over the counter to whisper.

“Kind of,” he whispered back.

“Stay right here, I can call the police,” you frantically murmured as you whipped out your phone.

“No no! Not like that,” he couldn’t contain his laughter, “I’m a fine arts student. My main focus is photography, but lately I haven’t been able to capture anything worth printing,” he explained.

“Ohhh,” you said, feeling dumb, “Then why come to a town in the middle of nowhere? You won’t find much here.”

“To an untrained eye, maybe so. But to a professional, beauty can be found anywhere,” he said proudly.

“Then why can’t you find anything back home? And aren’t you still a student?” you questioned.

“You know, I was really hoping that you’d let me have that,” the boy deflated.

“Aw, I’m sorry! If you ever want to take photos of the beauty that is bread, you’re always welcome here,” you smiled.

“I might take you up on that offer,” he said as he grabbed the purchased goods, “What’s your name by the way?”

“____. Yours?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“I’ll see you around, Mr. Jeon Jungkook. Oh! And if you’d like a tour of the town, I’d be more than happy to show you around,” you suggested.

“That would be nice,” Jungkook pondered, “Where can I find you?”

“I’m here every day. I get off at 3pm,” you answered.

“Cool. I’ll drop by tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

“Sure! See you then!” you waved goodbye.

“Who was that?” your mother asked when the boy left.

“Some photography student that said he wanted to get away for some inspiration. I offered to give him a tour tomorrow after work,” you explained. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” your dad offered.

“I’ll be fine on my own, thanks,” you quickly turned him down.

You spent the next morning frantically flip flopping between outfits. Should you go with a pretty top paired with a skirt? Or perhaps keep it casual with a t-shirt and jeans? Or should you go with a simple dress? You know you’re supposed to be a tour guide, but you still wanted to look somewhat presentable. You settled for the dress. It gave off a “cute but not trying too hard” type of vibe. 

Time seemed to slowly drag on as you waited for Jungkook to return. You had already mapped out your route, making sure it was efficient (not like there’s much to see anyway). You wanted to surprise him with a picnic at the end of the tour. Hopefully it could help show off the natural beauty of the forests and meadows that surrounded the town. As the clock approached 3pm, you began to wonder if springing a surprise picnic on a stranger was odd. Oh god, what if it was? You hadn’t had much interaction with people your age once all your friends went off to live their own lives. Panic was starting to set in when the front bell chimed.

“Hey! I’m a little early, but I can wait around until you’re finished,” Jungkook greeted you. You noticed a fancy looking camera dangling around his chest.

“It’s all good! Business has been slow today, I’ve been bored,” you admitted.

“Oh I see--” Jungkook was cut off.

“Hi! I’m ____’s mom. Did you like the bread you bought yesterday?” your mom materialized out of nowhere with a pan of fresh bread in her hands.

“It was delicious! Better than anything I could get in the city,” Jungkook complimented.

“Why did you batch a new batch? No one has come in after 1pm,” you aggressively whispered to your mom. 

“I got bored,” she pouted, “Here, have one! On the house, think of it as a welcoming present to our town,” she motioned for Jungkook to take a fresh loaf off the tray.

Jungkook’s face lit up at the offer as he thanked her for the snack. His smile lingered as he took a bite, savoring the taste.

“You must have some sort of good luck charm; you’re getting even more free food later,” you chuckled as you plopped a wicker basket onto the checkout counter.

“Sweet,” he beamed. 

You let out a small sigh of relief. It didn’t seem like Jungkook was creeped out by the thought of eating with a stranger. With the basket in hand, you led Jungkook across the town. There truly wasn’t much to see. Your family’s bakery was in line with the rest of the town’s shops. You passed by the florist, the cafe, the grocery store, and the post office within the first 3 minutes just by walking down the street. You added in little personal stories with each business that you pointed out. 

Jungkook paused by the flower shop, in awe of all the beautiful arrangements. His eyes scanned the outside displays, as if he was looking for something. 

“Need something specific, dear?” Mrs. Park asked her potential customer. 

“Do you have Tiger flowers?” he inquired.

“Tiger… No, but I can probably order some for you,” she offered.

“Ah, that’s alright. I’m sorry to bother you,” Jungkook apologized before rejoining you.

“Did you wanna take a picture of that specific flower?” you asked him as you strolled along the sidewalk.

“Yeah, it’s my birth flower,” he shyly nodded.

“Oh nice! I don’t know what my birth flower is, but yours sounds pretty. Ah, here is the town square. Over there is the courthouse/government building/boring stuff happens in there probably,” you said as you pointed out the building.

“This is cool,” Jungkook examined a decrepit well that stood in front of the courthouse.

“I guess. I always thought it would be better if they replaced it with a big pretty fountain or something,” you mentioned as you looked down into the dark abyss of the well.

Jungkook said nothing as he began taking pictures of the well from various angles. You watched him frown at each picture he took before he tried to take another. 

“Maybe you could take a picture looking into the well? I mean, you’d probably have to stand on it to get a full shot and your feet will be in it but…” you suggested before realizing that you knew nothing about photography.

Jungkook immediately hopped onto the well, disregarding the loose pebbles that crumbled away under his weight. Pointing the camera directly down into the well, he snapped a couple of pictures. He didn’t bother hopping off of the well before scrolling through the pictures he just took. You caught yourself staring at him, admiring his features. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his lips were pursed, and the wind was blowing his bangs over his forehead ever so slightly. He really was a handsome boy, though he seemed to be completely unaware of it. 

“How’d it turn out?” you asked as he climbed down.

“Not bad actually. Better than the angles I took at first,” Jungkook smiled with approval, “I’ll show you after I touch them up.”

“I’m excited to see! Also, this basically concludes the tour because everything else is residential stuff. Unless you wanna take pictures of random people’s homes,” you joked.

“I’m good. Is this where we’re eating? I kinda skipped lunch,” Jungkook looked at the wicker basket in your hand.

“Nope! I’m gonna take you somewhere special. Are you okay with a bit of light hiking?”

“Sounds fun,” Jungkook grinned. 

“Perfect! Now it’s your turn to lug this thing around,” you said as you handed him the deceptively heavy basket. 

You took him to the outskirts of town, where nature was left untouched.

“Is this where all the cool kids have their picnics?” Jungkook asked as you led him down an old trail.

“All the cool kids left this town a while ago, so I can’t speak on their behalf. However, this is where I like to have my picnics so take that in whatever way you please,” you responded.

It was a sunny day on the verge of being too hot, but the densely wooded forest provided enough shade to make it comfortable. Your parents used to take you on walks in these woods when you (and they) were younger. Of course, now the hilly paths and loose soil would only wreak havoc on your parents’ old knees. You’ve grown accustomed to exploring on your own. Bringing Jungkook along was a pleasant change. 

“You okay with eating here?” you suddenly stopped, pointing over to a field just off the trail.

“I’ll eat anywhere, I’m starving,” Jungkook quickly nodded. 

“I’m fully aware of that; I could barely hear the birds chirping over the sounds of your stomach growling,” you teased.

An old tree that was large enough to cover up the entire picnic blanket with shade proved to be the ideal spot. Jungkook set down the wicker basket that you assigned to him earlier, eagerly waiting for you to finally open it.

“On the menu today we have fruits as an appetizer, ham and cheese sandwiches in homemade croissants as the main course, and last but not least, chocolate buns for dessert,” you proudly showcased each item.

“I never knew bread could taste so heavenly until I went to your bakery. I’m happy I walked in,” Jungkook praised as he wolfed down his sandwich.

“It’s not my bakery, it’s my parents’ bakery,” you corrected him as you ate the fruit.

“Don’t you work in it nearly every day? I don’t see how it’s not your bakery too,” Jungkook insisted.

“I’m not the one running the business,” you argued.

“You seem to put in the same amount as work as them. Instead of baking, you’re handling all of the customers. That’s gotta count for something, right?” Jungkook persisted. 

“Fine, I guess you could say it’s a family bakery. Happy?” you huffed, clearly annoyed.

  “Hey, I wasn’t trying to make you angry. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Jungkook apologized, putting his sandwich down, “I wanted to let you know how much I love your family’s bread, that’s all.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just…” your trailed off as you gazed at the blue sky.

“I don’t want to pry, but I’m happy to sit here and listen,” Jungkook offered. 

“I don’t want to scare you away by dumping my personal issues on you,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“I don’t think you could do that, ____,” Jungkook assured you. 

Your eyes widened ever so slightly since he caught you off guard with his sincerity, but soon you gave him a soft smile.

“Fine, since we’re just sitting here anyway,” you caved as you picked up your sandwich, “I wish I wasn’t here anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents and I love the bakery. I just wish I got to go to a big city somewhere and attend a real university. I don’t know what I’d study, I just know that I thought my life would be different by now,” you turn away from him to hide your watery eyes.

“It’s not all that great,” Jungkook responded after a short pause, “I came from a small town too. The only difference was that it was along a beach, not by a forest. Wait, the location doesn’t matter,” he quietly scolded himself, “What I’m trying to say is that I did get away from my hometown. I was so excited to finally be a city kid. I didn’t realize how overwhelming it would be. Now look at me. I’m a senior in college with no direction in life. That’s what I get for choosing a career with no job security,” he chuckled as he looked down at the camera around his neck. 

“But are you doing what you love?” you quietly asked.

“I think so. Are you?” he asked back.

“I think so,” you sighed, finally turning to look at him. 

“I could always take you back to the city with me,” Jungkook flashed you a big bunny smile.

“Don’t joke with me like that. I hate getting my hopes up,” you playfully punch him in the arm. 

“I’m not joking!” he yelped in surprise.

The conversation turned into a more cheerful one. You both spoke about your dreams, both childhood and present day. It was fun talking with Jungkook as you both watched the clouds roll by without a care in the world. 

“Maybe you could get some pretty shots of some wildlife while we’re out here,” you recommended when the conversation came to a pause.

“Do you want to model for me?” Jungkook asked.

“Huh?” his sudden proposal surprised you.

“It’s completely okay if you don’t want to! Actually, just forget I said anything,” Jungkook looked down at the camera in his hands in a futile attempt to hide his flushed cheeks. 

“Just tell me how to pose,” you smiled, already getting up.

“Uh, just act natural,” he said awkwardly as you leaned against the thick tree trunk.

At first, you made some silly poses that made Jungkook laugh. To be honest, you only did that because you really didn’t know how to pose next to the tree while making it look natural. Forcing a smile, you attempted to lean on the tree like as if it were another person. 

“You don’t have to fake a smile,” Jungkook called from behind the camera.

“I don’t know what to do!” you called back.

“Act natural!”

“How do I do that?”

“Naturally!”

His response rewarded him a sarcastic eye roll, followed by a burst of laughter. Jungkook furiously clicked his camera as you laughed even harder. He praised you for ‘being in your natural state’ as he took shots from ridiculous angles. He gave you a thumbs up after he was satisfied with the impromptu photoshoot.

“Is laughing until I can’t breathe just me being in my natural state?” you asked playfully as you sat back down on the picnic blanket.

“It was authentic, so I would say so. I wish I could capture sound too, your laugh is so cute,” Jungkook said nonchalantly as he scrolled through the photos.

His eyes widened as soon as he realized what he said. He opened his mouth to try and take it back, or at least cover it up. He looked over at you shyly, only to see that you were digging out dessert from the basket. He let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, you didn’t hear him. 

“How were the pictures?” you asked, scooting to sit beside him after handing him the dessert.

“See for yourself,” he proudly showed you.

You were amazed by his talent. Even without editing, the photos looked like they were ready to be submitted into a contest. Everything looked so perfect. Your smile was genuine, the lighting was optimal, and your hair looked surprisingly good. You applauded him for his talent, to which he bashfully denied by saying he was still such an amatuer. You both finally dug into the desserts. 

“These chocolate buns were amazing,” Jungkook licked his lips after he finished it.

“They’re my personal favorite! They’re also the best things that I can make on my own,” you winked at him as you finished yours.

“You made these?” Jungkook’s doe eyes filled with awe.

“Yep! Don’t act so surprised,” you pouted.

“Sorry, it’s just that you told me your parents bake everything. These were really good! Probably the best things I’ve had since--oh wait. You have a little something,” Jungkook leaned forward to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb. 

You both froze for a second, in shock of this intimate gesture. Jungkook’s mouth opened to apologize, but you stopped him before he had the chance. Without thinking about it, you put your mouth around his thumb. You sucked on it for a second before you snapped back to reality. You started apologizing profusely the instant his thumb left your mouth. 

“It’s okay! I shouldn’t have touched you in the first place,” Jungkook shied away from you, refusing to look you in the eyes. 

“I don’t know what came over me,” you apologized as you grabbed his hand.

Jungkook looked at you with an embarrassed expression the moment you held his hand in yours. At first you didn’t realize why he was so embarrassed, you were the one sucking his thumb. But then, you noticed Jungkook sheepishly resting his other hand in his lap.

“Jungkook,” you said sweetly.

“Yes?” he answered, his eyes averting yours once more. 

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“Huh?” he looked back at you with disbelief. 

You made a bold move as you moved to straddle his lap, each leg settling beside his waist. You brought his hand up to your mouth and batted your eyes innocently.

“Like this,” you say before licking his pointer finger. 

Jungkook gulped while slowly nodding his head, giving you permission to continue. His eyes stayed glued on you as you wrapped your lips around his finger. You dragged your flattened out tongue from the base to the tip. You then reversed this motion, but instead only using the tip of your tongue. You began to work on his middle finger as well. It was hard to fit his long fingers in your mouth, but you’re no quitter. Your tongue weaved between his fingers, adequately coating them with your saliva.

Jungkook’s breaths quickened the longer you went on. You felt a bulge grow between your thighs as you straddled him. Perhaps wearing a dress was a great idea after all. Your hips began to move on their own as you slowly grinded on Jungkook. 

“____…” Jungkook moaned quietly when you daringly took three fingers into your mouth.

Rubbing your clothed pussy against his hard crotch spurred you on even more. Drool was dribbling down Jungkook’s arm and your chin, but neither of you cared. It just made you look more erotic to him. His other hand was on your hip to help you maintain a rhythm. You opened your eyes to make contact with his as you suckled his fingers. That’s all it took to make him come undone.

He quickly pushed you off of him as he cried out. You were both too shocked to say anything for a few seconds. Jungkook seemed too embarrassed to look you in the eyes again, his cheeks bright red.

“Jungkook, I--” you started to apologize.

“You probably think I’m pretty lame huh? Cumming in my pants like some sort of middle schooler,” he looked down in defeat. 

“What? No, of course not!” you disagreed.

“Don’t lie,” Jungkook refused to believe you.

“Jungkook, that was honestly the hottest thing I’ve ever done. What we just did was hotter than when I was actually having sex,” you tried to cheer him up. 

“You’re not lying?” Jungkook finally looked up at you with sad puppy dog eyes.

“I swear I’m not. I could help you clean it up, if you’d like,” you offered. 

“I think that would make me feel worse. Just hand me some napkins and I’ll go take care of it myself,” he declined.

You packed everything up while you waited for Jungkook to return. He discreetly threw away the ball of used napkins into the designated trash bag, praying to god that you weren’t looking. 

The walk back was quiet and awkward. Neither of you knew what to say. You were horrified with how you acted; you’ve never been so bold before. Jungkook was ashamed of cumming before he had the chance to do anything to you. He felt so pathetic. 

“I’m sorry for making you so uncomfortable, Jungkook,” you finally apologized.

“Are you kidding? You think I would cum that fast if I was uncomfortable?” Jungkook looked at you with incredulity, “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m disgusting and came in my pants while you did all the hard work.”

“You’re not disgusting at all, Jungkook. I enjoyed it too. I can’t remember the last time I was that horny,” you laughed.

All the tension in the air had disappeared. Jungkook bounced back to being his cheery self. The conversation went back to normal as you brought him back to the bakery. You hugged him goodbye and were about to leave when he caught your hand.

“Thank you so much for the tour. I know we’ve only known each other for a day but... would you like to go on a date with me?” Jungkook asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“No,” you said firmly, watching his shoulders fall, “I’d love to go on a date with you,” you smirked.

“You jerk!” Jungkook gasped. 

You couldn’t help it, he was too easy to tease. After working out the details, it was decided that he would come pick you up on Friday night. 

Jungkook took you to basically the only restaurant in town (that wasn’t the cafe). It was a family run Italian eatery, and it took Jungkook by surprise.

“Is everyone in this place a master chef or something? This is delicious!” he praised as he ate his pasta.

“I guess it’s the authenticity of family recipes? You probably eat at more chain restaurants while you’re in the city,” you shrugged as you twirled noodles around your fork.

The date went on pleasantly. Jungkook wanted to know as much about you as you did him. The conversations you had were lively and fun; there was never a dull moment with him. Something about him just automatically clicked with you.

“What’s your favorite thing to photograph?” you asked.

“I like taking pictures of landscapes and buildings. That’s why I was super excited about going to a university in the city. It’s a lot easier than taking pictures of people! Unfortunately, that’s where the money is right now,” he explained.

“You don’t like taking pictures of people?”

“Not really, no,” he answered bluntly.

“Then why did you ask me to model for you?” you were genuinely curious.

Jungkook froze in his seat. He took a long sip of his drink before answering you. 

“For practice, I suppose,” he said softly. 

“I’m happy I was able to help then,” you smiled, thinking nothing of it. 

Jungkook seemed grateful that you didn’t press for more details, and was soon coaxed out of his shy shell once the topic of anime came around. You were happy that he took you out on a proper date, you hadn’t been on one in so long.

He walked you back under the pale moonlight. You were admiring the twinkling stars when you realized that Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a while. His hand awkwardly brushed against yours when you first left the restaurant, but you didn’t think much of it. Jungkook seemed to be thinking hard about something as he walked alongside you. You were going to say something when the back of his hand brushed against yours again. He instantly pulled away and uttered a small “sorry”.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” you were worried now, you thought the date went well. 

“Nothing…,” his voice trailed off as he looked away.

You interlocked his pinky with yours without a word. Jungkook looked over at you with surprise, but said nothing. He admonished himself for not committing to hold your hand, but he was happy with this too. In fact, he thought it was cuter than actual hand holding.

You arrived in front of your house. Bidding Jungkook goodnight, you went in for a hug. Jungkook also went in for a hug, but he leaned the same way you did. In a quick bumble, your lips grazed the corner of Jungkook’s, causing you to jump back. You stood in Jungkook’s arms, looking away in embarrassment. He brought up one of his hands to cup your cheek, forcing you to look back at him. His eyes sparkled under the moonlight as he gazed into yours. 

Slowly, you found yourself leaning forward. Jungkook met you in the middle, his lips finding yours. It was a tender kiss, sweet and soft. You broke it off after a couple seconds to giggle, but Jungkook pulled you back into it. He kissed you gently, yet with so much passion. You reciprocated his affection as your fingers intertwined with his hair, deepening the kiss.

He finally pulled away, smiling back at you. To be honest, you wish it lasted longer. However, you knew you would have had a hard time controlling yourself if it did.

“Thank you for dinner,” you thanked him with a soft voice.

“Of course, thank you for accompanying me,” he bowed like a gentleman and kissed your hand. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gesture.

“Too much?” he tilted his head.

“Don’t change a thing,” you continued to laugh. 

All sorts of thoughts about Jungkook swam in your mind as you fell asleep that night. 

Jungkook soon began to hangout with you every day. When he wasn’t out trying to take pictures, he would be in the bakery keeping you company. Your parents teased him, saying that he better buy something or else they’d kick him out, but they never did. In fact, your mom would always sneak him some freshly baked goods. 

After work, you and Jungkook would spend even more time together. It didn’t matter if you guys were exploring nature, cooling off in the stream, or just watching movies; you enjoyed it all. It was nice having someone to talk to for a change. Jungkook never asked to make plans with you, he just assumed you guys would hangout the next day when he said “see ya tomorrow!”

You knew you had a crush on Jungkook, but you didn’t know how he felt. Yes, he took you on a date. Yes, you’ve kissed. Yes, you made in cum in his pants (not necessarily in that order). You were waiting on him to ask you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t want to pressure him, especially when you knew that he’d be going back to school in the fall. 

One day, much to your chagrin, Jungkook was helping you with inventory. You argued that he shouldn’t work since he wasn’t getting paid, but he smiled and replied that spending time with you was all the payment he needed. You were too flustered to argue after that.

“Great, everything has been accounted for! Can you help me put this box back up there?” you asked him, nodding your head at a particularly high shelf that was out of your reach. You grabbed a step stool for him to make it easier.

Jungkook lifted up the heavy box of supplies with ease, and placed it back on the shelf. He looked down at you and smiled.

“What?” you cocked your head.

He said nothing as he leaned down and kissed your forehead, “You just look cute from up here.”

You looked away as you blushed, not knowing what to say. Jungkook laughed as he got down from the step stool. He teased you about it for the rest of the day.

Days flew by as it was getting closer and closer to Jungkook’s departure. You let Jungkook decide on what to do during his last day there. He picked you up at the bakery after your shift. He wanted to take one last stroll with you around town before he had to leave. You were about to hug him goodbye when he invited you over, saying that he had a box of popcorn he needed help finishing.

After watching a couple movies, Jungkook had his arms around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. Cuddling had become a norm between you two. Jungkook suddenly nudged your side, causing you to shriek.

“Sorry, just making sure you were still awake,” he giggled.

“I was, but now I definitely am,” you said as you returned the favor and tickled his sides.

It soon became a war of tickling as laughter erupted from both of you. Jungkook was just as ticklish as you were, making it a deadly battle. Before you knew it, you were straddling Jungkook, gripping both of his wrists in your hands. You both stared at each other as the laughter subsided, now replaced with heavy breathing. 

“You could easily knock me over, you know,” you said as you lowered your nose to his.

“What if I don’t want to?” he whispered back.

He moved his head upwards to kiss you, catching you by surprise. You kissed him back, pushing him back down. You lowered your hips to rest on his hardened crotch. You let go of his wrists to help him take off his shirt before removing your own. 

Once your lips connected again, Jungkook’s hands moved freely over your body, gently caressing your breasts. He treated you so tenderly, it made you even hornier. Your hands reached down to unzip his pants.

“Is this okay?” you paused to ask.

“Only if you take off your pants too,” he answered with a smirk.

Soon enough you were both down to just your underwear. You palmed Jungkook’s erection, curious to see it. It already felt huge in comparison to your hands.

“I want to fuck you, _____,” Jungkook groaned as you kissed his neck.

“I’m glad we want the same thing. Where do you want me?” you cooed. 

“Like this is fine,” he quickly answered. 

He helped you take off his underwear, revealing his massive dick. Your pussy clenched at the sight of it. You wriggled out of your panties and positioned yourself on top of him. 

“Ready?” you asked.

Jungkook just nodded, his eyes wide with anticipation. He gulped as he watched you slowly lower yourself onto him, taking in each inch slowly. You moaned as he went deeper and deeper in you. You hadn’t had sex in a long time (and admittedly it wasn’t very good). Now, you were sopping wet and Jungkook was filling you up perfectly. Once you reached the base of his dick, you took your time going back up.

From the look on Jungkook’s face, he was in pure bliss. You continued to tease him as you fucked him slowly. You transitioned from taking his entire length to just swiveling around his tip, making him moan from the overstimulation. Jungkook dug his nails into your lower back, begging you to take all of him in again.

You leaned back over and peppered kisses along his chest and up his neck. Jungkook whimpered at the sensation, his breathing grew uneven. You giggled at him as you suckled on his neck, leaving wet kisses in your wake. Once you had enough of teasing him, you slammed back down onto him, and both your moans filled the room. Your hips began to move faster as you bounced on top of him. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened. 

“I--I’m gonna cum,” he panicked.

You immediately hopped off, hoping to edge him. He whimpered at the loss of your warm pussy, but your plan seemed to work. His eyes begged you to get back on top. 

“Now it’s your turn to fuck me,” you demanded as you laid down on your back.

Jungkook complied and positioned himself between your legs. He bent over to kiss you while he pushed his cock back inside of you. He took his time at first, but then tried to pick up the pace. His movements were awkward and stiff, and his pelvis hit your hips in a way that you knew they were going to bruise later.

“Jungkook, just relax,” you commanded.

Jungkook steadied his breathing and took your advice. He was finally able to find a rhythm and stuck to it. Luckily, it was the perfect rhythm for you as he continuously grazed your g-spot. Jungkook moaned with every stroke as your warm insides squeezed around him. You wrapped your legs around him, bringing him even closer. You looked up at him to see that the usual sweet star filled doe eyes of his had switched to a version of pure ecstasy as he gazed down at you with blown out pupils. The change was a little jarring, but also incredibly sexy when you realized the potential duality Jungkook could have. You pulled him into a deep kiss, tongues exploring foreign regions as he pounded into you. 

“I’m gonna--,” his breath hitched.

���Cum on me baby,” you panted as you furiously rubbed your clit, desperate to cum with him.

With perfect timing, Jungkook got to feel you cum around him for a few seconds before he had to pull out and finish all over your chest. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before scurrying off to find something to clean you with. 

He rested his head on your chest as you held him close. You were falling asleep when he said something.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked him since you barely heard him.

“I am, well I guess was, a virgin,” Jungkook admitted.

“Oh,” you tried to mask your surprise.

“I didn’t wanna say anything. I mean, how lame is it that I’m a college senior and have never gotten laid. You’re probably surprised huh? I’m not lying, I swear.”

“I am surprised, but only because you seem like ladies would be all over you. You’re so handsome, funny, charming--”

“Yes yes keep going,” Jungkook joked.

“--and a genuinely good guy. Plus I feel like being a photographer would help you meet a lot of pretty girls,” you reasoned.

“While all of that is true, the real reason is pretty embarrassing. I’m...I’ve always been kinda scared of girls,” Jungkook sighed as you tried to suppress your laughter, “I’m not kidding! I always get so nervous around girls, I could never actually talk to them.”

“So am I not a girl in your eyes?” you teased.

“You’re a woman,” he answered cockily.

“Shut up! I hope your first time was enjoyable. Thanks for entrusting me with your v card,” you laughed.

You both continued joking and laughing the night away until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. While that night was enjoyable, it made Jungkook’s absence hurt more. 

Life had sunk back into the same mundane routines once Jungkook left. Of course, he still kept in touch. He would text and video call you as often as he could. He’d send you pictures of his newest shooting locations, and you’d always be the first person he’d show his finished products. 

You loved witnessing Jungkook’s passion grow, he had a new spark in him that wasn’t there before. With your encouragement as an extra shove, he applied to his dream job. He explained to you that it was with an agency that would send him to a random country where he’d work with a participating magazine company. You secretly envied him for even having the possibility of exploring the world. 

Days and weeks started to blend together. Your parents insisted on having you help out more in the kitchen, presumably to get your mind off of Jungkook. 

It was a weird fling you had with him. However, it also didn’t seem like a fling. Most flings didn’t still keep in touch in a long distance “friendship”, or whatever it was you had. You were never officially dating, but it sure as hell felt that way. You cursed yourself for waiting for him to ask, you should’ve just done it yourself. Of course, part of you felt like you’d just hold him back if you guys actually ended up dating. 

These thoughts constantly swarmed your mind. Ironically, the only time you weren’t thinking about your dilemma was when you were chatting with Jungkook. The end of the semester was quickly approaching, and you could tell that he was getting antsy. He hadn’t gotten offers from anywhere that he applied. You could do nothing but give him hope but assuring him that someone somewhere will hire him. 

You watched snow fall outside when you got a call. 

“I GOT IN!!!” Jungkook exclaimed.

“What?! Where?!” you jumped up in excitement.

“My top choice! The one where they send me to another country! Guess where I’m going,” he sing songed.

“Umm… Italy?”

“Close! I’m going to España,” he said with a spanish accent.

“That’s amazing, Jungkook. I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it. When do you leave?” you asked.

“In a week. God, I’m so excited! Oh, my parents are calling. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. Congrats again,” you cheered before he hung up.

Before you knew it, you were crying. You were honestly happy for Jungkook, but reality hit you. You were never going to be able to tell him that you loved him. You were never going to be with him, not while you’re stuck in this town. It sucked, but you had no choice but to accept that. 

Two days had passed since that phone call. Jungkook was probably busy packing and working out minor details, so you stayed out of his way. You figured things would probably be like this from now on. Why would he bother talking to a small town girl while he’s out exploring the world? 

You were restocking the milk puddings rolls when the front bell chimed. 

“I’ll be with you in a second,” you called out.

“No worries, I’ll wait all day if I have to,” a familiar voice responded.

You dropped the rolls as you turned around with lightning fast speed. Jungkook stood at the doorway, beaming a big bunny smile at you. You ran to him, embracing him in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. 

“Surprise,” he smiled.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you wiped tears from your eyes.

“I needed to see you. I was planning on coming back and surprising you even before I left. You didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye, did you?” he ruffled your hair, “Oh, and those tiger flowers are beautiful,” he nodded over to the flower bouquet on the checkout counter.

“I got them because they reminded me of you,” you blushed, your ears turning red.

“Did I hear Jungkook?” you mom poked her head out of the kitchen, “Oh my goodness! Honey look! Jungkook is back!” she called your dad. 

Your parents came out to greet him. He explained everything to them, and they congratulated him. 

“How long will you be here? Aren’t you leaving soon?” your dad inquired.

“I leave tomorrow night. I wish I could stay longer,” Jungkook answered solemnly. 

“____ suddenly doesn’t have to work until after you’ve left,” your mom smiled fondly at you.

Your eyes lit up as you kissed your parents on the cheek to thank them. After grabbing your jacket, you took Jungkook’s hand and dragged him out. You both aimlessly walked around the town as you chatted. He went more in depth with the details of his job. He was most excited about capturing photos of the city. After looking up some pictures of the architecture, he immediately fell in love with Madrid.

Jungkook invited you over to watch some of the short films he worked on over the past semester. While they were just videos of his friends with no plot, you could feel their friendship seeping through the screen. The way Jungkook played with music and colors really enhanced the already well shot video. You felt at peace sitting beside Jungkook on his bed as he showed you all his past projects. Part of you wished that this moment would never end. 

“You’ve made me a better person, you know,” Jungkook said out of nowhere, “I’m more talkative around my friends, and I’ve gotten more comfortable with being myself.”

“I didn’t do anything, that’s all you,” you smiled as you poked his chest. 

“You definitely helped,” he ran his fingers through your hair, “I love you, ____.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too. I thought I’d never get to say that,” you said with a sigh of relief. 

He looked into your eyes before leaning forward slowly. You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, you practically pounced on him. You kissed him passionately, as if to show him how much you missed him. Clothes were thrown in every direction leading to bare skin being exposed.

Jungkook’s soft hands roamed across your body as if he were trying to memorize your every curve. His touch was a bit rougher than the last time, his lips crashed against yours as he pinched your nipples. You couldn’t tell if it was desperation, carnal lust, or just a new side of Jungkook, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. His erection pressed against your thigh as your hands tangled themselves in his dark hair. You reached down to grab his cock, gripping from the base and slowly dragging your hand to the tip and then back down. He shuddered at the sensation, moaning into your mouth. 

“Should I get on top?” you batted your eyes.

“Nope, I have a better idea,” Jungkook growled as he flipped you over onto your knees, “Can I fuck you like this?”

“Fuck me however you want,” you answered gleefully. 

Jungkook rammed into you without hesitation. He firmly gripped your hips to keep you in place as he thrusted into you. His dick sent waves of ecstasy as he crashed into you. He surprised you when he reached his hand around you to play with your clit, causing you to squirm under him.

“Be a good girl and stay still,” he ordered. 

His newfound dominance turned you on. He was no longer the baby boy that followed your every move, although you were sure that side of him was still there somewhere. You got lost in pleasure and didn’t realize how far gone you were till you felt liquid dripping down your inner thighs.

“You’re so fucking wet baby. All this for me?” Jungkook panted as he continued snapping his hips into you.

“Mhm, of course. Only for you,” you managed to moan out between thrusts.

“That’s my good girl. Get up,” he demanded as he hopped off the bed. 

You obeyed, curious as to what he was going to do. As soon as you got off the bed, he spun you around and pushed your chest back over the covers. He slipped back into you with ease, groaning as your slick juices coated his cock. This new position enabled Jungkook to directly hit your g-spot with each thrust. Again, his hand wrapped around your waist to find your clit. His other hand found purchase on your neck, slightly choking you. The overstimulation had you crying out in bliss that you had never experienced before.  

You were practically gushing now as your wetness ran down your legs and sprayed onto Jungkook’s thighs with each strong impact.  Jungkook lifted up one of your legs onto the bed, spreading your pussy.

“Now touch yourself for me,” Jungkook directed.

He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your legs started to shake as you played with your clit at the perfect pace while Jungkook drilled into you. You were sure that you had already came numerous times by this point, but you could feel the grand finale soon approaching.   

“Jungkook I--” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence as you climaxed onto his dick. He was infatuated with the way you looked from behind, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He pushed you back onto the bed with your legs still hanging from the edge. He reinserted himself while you laid there, completely delusional from the pounding you had been receiving. 

“You’re such a sexy woman,” he moaned as he anchored the weight of his arms onto your shoulders. 

He continued his torment downwards. Your bountiful cheeks bounced back and forth while he repeatedly rammed into your g-spot causing you to release more of the juices his massive cock craved. 

 He slowed his pace but still kept going to help you ride out your high for as long as possible. The sensation of you cumming on him was enough to bring him right to the brink of no return.

“Can I cum on you?” he pleaded in a tone all too familiar to you.

“Please do,” you nodded.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he said as he gave you a couple more hard thrusts before pulling out and coating your ass with white strings. 

Jungkook held you in his arms after wiping you down with a towel, both of your chests heaving in sync. You both managed to work up a sweat, but Jungkook still smelled amazing. He played with your hair as your eyelids started to get heavy. 

“_____,” he whispered softly.

“Yes, Jungkook?” you replied with your eyes still closed. 

“Come with me.”

“What?” your eyes shot open. 

“Come with me to Spain. I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t care. You’ll finally get the adventure you’ve always wanted, and we’ll do it together,” he kissed your forehead. 

His unexpected proposition had you overwhelmed. You were speechless. You would go with him in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t matter where you’d go, as long as you were with him. 

“Jungkook...you know I can’t do that,” you fought back tears, nuzzling yourself further into his chest. 

“I wanted to ask your parents as soon as I arrived but you rushed me out too quickly and--”

“I can’t leave them, you know that,” silent tears rolled down your cheeks. 

“I think they’d understand. Plus, you’ve said that they’ve tried to convince you to go to college,” Jungkook was getting desperate, he thought you’d agree on the spot.

“They need my help now more than ever. My parents are getting old. As much as I want to leave this place, I can’t. I’m going to be stuck here forever. I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you wept.

“It’s okay, ___. We can ask them tomorrow, how does that sound?” he rubbed your back. 

“No, I can’t do that to them. You know they’ll say yes. I have to stay,” you sniffled.

“You’re a great daughter. I can’t force you to come with me. I’ll miss you. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Jungkook’s voice started to falter.

“Don’t worry about me. Go live out your life. Eat great food. Take beautiful pictures. Meet pretty girls,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“You think I want to meet pretty girls? Why would I do that when I have you,” he hugged you tightly.

“We aren’t even dating, Jungkook. I don’t want to hinder you more than I already have,” you blurted. 

“I...I know we aren’t dating. Not officially. But that’s just a stupid label. I want to be with you,” Jungkook’s voice softened to hide his pain. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said as you got up.

Jungkook immediately pulled you back into him. Your nose brushed against his wet cheek, causing you to freeze up when you realized that he had also been crying.

“Please stay with me. At least just for tonight,” he pleaded.

“Alright. I can do that,” you softly kiss him. 

You woke up the next morning with your head on Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook looked adorable while he was asleep, with his mouth agape and his hair falling messily over his forehead. You tried to inch away, but he just pulled you closer, making it impossible to escape. 

He woke up with a yawn a couple minutes later. He smiled down at you before ruffling your hair.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry about last night. I--”

“Let’s not talk about it. This is my last day with you for god knows how long. Let’s just enjoy ourselves, okay?” he interrupted you.

It had been three years since that spring when you met Jungkook. You sometimes reminisce about the times you had with Jeon Jungkook. It honestly felt like a dream. Communication with him slowly faded away, and now the only conversations you had with him were one message long during birthdays and holidays. You kept up with him more through Instagram. He regularly uploaded his beautiful pictures, and you could tell that his talent only grew. He had a knack for making dull buildings and streets come to life. 

Your parents planned to retire soon, leaving you to tend to the bakery by yourself. They mainly managed the front-of-house work during the busy hours now. Their goal was to finally sell the bakery, but you protested against it. As much as you wanted to be rid of the chains that tied you down, you were scared. You didn’t know what you would do if the bakery was suddenly gone. It was all you’ve ever known. 

Ever since your parents announced their retirement plans, you started to dabble in pastry making. They were impressed with your skills, and your creations got added to the menu. Word spread that the already famous bakery was now carrying delicious pastries, and business soared. 

You were busy decorating your latest desserts when your mother came into the kitchen.

“Your father and I have to go run a quick errand, we’ll be back soon!” she said before giving you time to protest. You grumbled to yourself as you placed strawberries on your cakes, praying that no one would come in.

“Hello? Anyone here? The sign says open,” someone called from the front.

‘God dammit’, you thought before putting on a fake customer service smile. 

“Welcome to--” you stopped in your tracks.

Jungkook was standing in the middle of your bakery, looking even more handsome than you had remembered him. His face lit up as soon as he saw you. You couldn’t help yourself as you ran towards him, colliding into him with a forceful hug.

“I hear you sell desserts now,” he grinned.

“Jungkook! What are you doing here? Your hair, it’s so long! And...do you have tattoos now?!” you were in shock. 

“Do I look more artsy now?” he laughed, “I came to see you. I wanted to try your desserts too, of course. No one would believe me when I said nothing can compare to your family’s bakery. Oh, I have a present for you.”

You became giddy with excitement as Jungkook brought out a brown paper bag and handed it to you. You pulled out prints of a beautiful girl standing in a forest. Wait...it looked familiar…

“Is this me?” you asked as your mouth hung open.

“Yeah, these are the pictures from when you took me on that picnic. Would you believe me if I said I barely had to touch anything up? They were already nearly perfect,” Jungkook said proudly.

“It’s because you’re a talented photographer,” you smiled.  

“That, and because I had the perfect model. How could I not ask the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen to model for me?” he said as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“So I wasn’t just practice?” you recalled asking him about it all those years ago.

“I was so nervous back then, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth,” he laughed, “I’m much more open now.”

You promptly switched the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’ and sat Jungkook down. You brought out one of your fresh strawberry cakes, eager to hear his opinion. His face contorted with pleasure as he took the first bite. He complimented the flavors and textures, saying that everything tasted like perfect harmony. You laughed together as he shared stories of his time abroad. He intently listened while you opened up about the struggles of the bakery. 

“Anyway, that’s enough complaining for now. I’m happy you’re back! How long are you staying for this time?” you tilted your head. 

“Depends,” Jungkook answered as he gazed out the window. He looked back at you with a serious expression. He quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you close, bringing your face just inches away from his.

“Do you still want to explore the world?” he asked.

“Of course, that’ll never change. But...you know I can’t,” you answered somberly. 

“After everything you just told me, you still think you have to stay here?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, “My next gig is going to be in France. Come with me this time, _____.”

You stared at him with a stunned expression. You thought he had forgotten about you. Now here he is, asking you to run away with him again.

“Why did you lose touch? I thought you had moved on. I made peace with that. God, it hurt like hell, but I came to terms with it. And now we’re doing this again,” your voice cracked as tears welled in your eyes.

“Honestly, it hurt me too much. I couldn’t bear talking to you every day or video chatting you, without knowing when I’d see you next. I never stopped thinking about you. I tried. I tried to forget...but no one could ever come close to you,” Jungkook cupped your cheek in his palm, “There’s a really good patissiere academy close to where I’ll be working. You could go there and sharpen your skills! Then maybe one day open up a bakery of your own...if you wanted.”

“But what about my parents--”

“Stop using us as an excuse to hold yourself back,” your mom scolded you as she entered the bakery.

“Did you like your surprise?” your dad winked.

“You knew?” you were bewildered.

“Jungkook contacted us a while back, asking if we thought his plan could ever be a possibility. I figured you were still head over heels for him since you never dated anyone else,” your mom shrugged.

“If you want to go, go. Don’t worry about us. We can sell the bakery, and finally retire,” your dad said. 

“You have your parents’ blessing, ____. This decision is entirely up to you. What’s it gonna be? Will you come with me to France?” Jungkook asked again.

“I..,” you looked at your parents before your eyes wandered back to Jungkook, “Yes. I’d love to,” tears of joy rolled down your cheeks.

Jungkook got up and embraced you in a tight hug before he whispered, “I’ve missed you so much,” in your ear. 

“Well, we better start packing,” Jungkook turned to your parents.

“Packing? Already?” your eyes widened. 

“We leave by the end of the week!” Jungkook gleefully took your hand and dashed out of the store. 

Jungkook dragged you through the town up to your house. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched his long hair bounce around while you ran. You could’ve sworn that sometimes they looked like bunny ears.

He was definitely Jungkook, but he seemed like the upgraded version of the shy boy you once knew. He had a new confident aura around him, and he seemed more manly than boyish now. Everything was happening so quickly, but you were nothing but excited for the adventures to come. 

As long as Jungkook was by your side, you were ready to take on the world. 

Published March 26, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows (Male!Reader x Gabriel - SPN)

Requested by @yesthetrashbin for Gabriel trying to woo you by giving you suspiciously good luck

It hasn't been particularly easy in this town.

Sure, starting out on your own is never strictly "easy," but, well... luck hasn't been in your favor.

First it was the sign you had ordered for your new ice cream shop coming back misspelled (and then colored incorrectly when it came back after that)

And then it was your first customer having an allergic reaction because she didn't read the sign warning those with allergies that nut contamination may occur

And then... you get the picture.

You struggled by, even through the string of strange deaths in your town, until one day a lanky stranger came wandering in, staring at you with something like awe.

"How has there been an ice cream parlor here and I didn't know about it?" he asks, grinning, and you shrug.

He orders a five-scoop cone and practically kicks his heels on the way out the door.

The next day a tree falls in the street, blocking traffic through that little town on an unseasonably warm day... and you get the best day of business you've ever had up til then.

The man comes in every day after that, which cannot be good for his cholesterol. But he gets more talkative, drawing you out of your shell. And your luck somehow improves after his visit, whether it's beating traffic on the way home or somehow ending up with double your order of food without having to pay extra.

On a whim, you buy a lottery ticket.

The next day, the man walks in with a big grin. "You know... if you had a suggestion box, I'd say you should wear nametags. That way I don't have to refer to you in my head as Ice Cream Guy."

"Is that so?" you smirk. "Maybe you should wear a name tag so I don't have to call you Five Scoop Man."

He barks out a laugh, grinning wildly. "Gabriel, if you must know. But I'm totally gonna go by Five Scoop Man now."

The day you tell him your name, you win the lottery.

Somehow you can't help but associate your strange luck with Gabriel. Sure it's insane to think a cute guy could be the source of your luck, but...

Eventually Gabriel works up the courage to ask you on a date.

"This isn't just a ploy for free ice cream, is it?" you tease before accepting.

There's a storm the night after, biggest gust in years. Your shop remains untouched, somehow being unscathed by a fallen tree that flattened both shops adjacent to yours.

A swerving car that you're sure should have hit you is blasted aside by a fire hydrant malfunctioning at just the right moment.

A Ben and Jerry's truck headed into town somehow explodes.

It's starting to get a little suspicious.

So you play the lottery again, using the same numbers as before... and you win.

You mention to Gabriel that you've been craving Indian food and he calls you that night saying a place opened up within walking distance... in a lot that was completely empty the night before.

"Gabriel." you say when he walks in the next day. "Are you giving me good luck somehow?"

He knows better than to lie to you. His shoulders droop. "What gave me away?"

It's absolutely insane, but this is happening. "Uh... probably the Indian food thing."

"Damn it." Gabriel snaps his fingers. "I knew that was probably too far. I just... look, I know it's not exactly great protocol, but I can't help it. I saw your life and how it's been going, and... I just figured a handsome guy like you should have everything be perfect."

"You... saw my life? Like a psychic?"

"It's a teensy bit more complex, but let's go with that."

"So... all this was a way of trying to woo me?"

"No!" he says, urgently. "Not at all. I like to think I have enough game to woo someone without needing powers. The luck thing was just because I thought you deserve it. I don't know many humans - people that are as hardworking or kind as you."

You look at him, a little sternly. "As much as I like being lucky, I'd like you to stop messing with it. I'll take the good and the bad."

He nods. "That's fair."

"As for us... you're a special kind of guy, Gabriel. If you want to keep dating... I'm game for it."

He smiles. "Sweet. Can I use my powers to make our dates good, though?"

You laugh a little, smiling at the way he drifts closer, hands snaking around your hips. "I'll allow it."

The next day your car breaks down, but your boyfriend simply winks at you and gives you a kiss, and you're sitting in front of your ice cream shop. "I'll go get the car taken care of. See you tonight?"

You don't know how exactly he does it, but you know that even without his powers or your luck, Gabriel would have stolen your heart.

[regrettablewritings]

Hi!😁 I'll give you another ship with my dear Lucifer morningstar from Lucifer cuz as it turns out I'm a hoe for a lot of characters but what can ya do? Thank you!

Aw hell yii, somebody's talkin' my lingo! 😎

Who the fuck put the Peeps in the microwave?: Lucifer. And no, it's not because he actually likes them or is curious about what would happen; he's seen plenty of Youtube videos enough to know exactly what happens. No . . . It's far more malicious . . . Generally speaking, you don't like the constant comparison of cats to the devil. But after getting to actually meet The Devil, you think that those believers might be on to something. Lucifer's whorey ways bleeds into his need for attention like red bleeds into white in the wash, and he's completely shameless about it. For example, if he feels like you may be focusing too much on work or, gasp, other people besides him, you run the risk of encountering a very . . . mischievous Luci. Not that he's not already a prankster, but he somehow becomes a bit more childish. Catlike in some respects. He puts your mugs up higher than what you can normally reach without having to climb on the countertop. He joins you at your kitchen table while you're reading over files for work and puts on his most angelic face, insisting he just wants to keep you company and will be as quiet as vermin in Dear Old Dad's house . . . then proceed to obnoxiously click a pen while pretending to solve a word problem, or eat cheese puffs obnoxiously loud. And then . . . the Peeps: The absolute prettyboy bastard used your microwave as a casualty of war, plopping the unplated, mutant-colored marshmallows directly on the glass and letting them go. To be fair, it technically didn't ruin anything. But at least he had your attention now -- because after fussing at him for making a mess, you were currently supervising him scrubbing not only the effected areas of the glass dish, but the rest of the microwave as well. Unfortunately, you can't say a lesson was really learned because now Luci knows that if he wants to get a rise out of you, what he needs is a bunch of candies from the bargain bin.

Who forgot to put the cat out before sex?: It's not that either of you forgot the cat was there -- it was that Lucifer wanted the bloody animal to give the both of you some privacy. And because Lucifer forgot the cat was there. He was simply too busy embracing you in a liplock and laying you down on the couch to notice the glaring eyes of the cat you had rescued from the shelter. Thankfully, you two didn't get very far before the lovingly-named Lucipurr released a meow, indicating that he had become flesh and bone in the few hours it had been since you'd last fed him. Suffice to say, after a startled Lucifer flung himself off of you and onto the floor, nearly breaking his ass on the coffee table (and the laughing fit that had induced on your end), the mood was killed. For the next fifteen minutes, that is. The next time he tried anything, Lucifer made sure that his efforts would be continued in the bedroom (but not before he did a complete check of every nook and cranny in there to make sure the furry bastard wasn't trying anything).

Who posts Vines/TikToks of the other doing embarrassing shit?: Lucifer absolutely lacks boundaries. The moment he discovered smartphones, social media, and all their potential, he was all in and recording as many videos of friends and coworkers as he could in as many awkward or unideal situations as they came. You felt bad for Dan being his constant target, but you were somewhat sure that Dan felt bad for you in a way: After all, you were dating the freaking guy and yet Lucifer had few qualms about posting a video of you, drunkenly singing karaoke in what was supposed to be a private room? Harsh.

Who breaks the most phones?: Lucifer does. He's not necessarily careless, but his part-time occupation does lead him to circumstances that tend to put his phone in danger. You, Chloe, Dan, literally everyone has told him to just leave his phone in the car if he's going to get it broken that often while on the job, but the dumbass never learns. Not that he really seems to care all that much: With his wealth, he can always buy a new one. Though, the only times he gets frustrated is when photos or videos don't quite make it to the transfer and things get lost along the way. Funny photos, suggestive videos, photos and videos of you . . . Photos and videos of you being funny or suggestive . . . Downright pornographic videos he had recorded of you -- Though don't worry: He's sure you'll be more than happy to help recreate the latter. He'd gladly help you . . .

Who dies first?: It should go without saying. It really should. But that doesn't make it hurt any less. Lucifer was always one to get caught up in his indulgences, after all: Somewhere along the way, he must've gotten too swept up in the thrill, the feeling of adoration. He tells himself this but it's really just denial. Closer to the truth is that it all really was just denial: He denied the idea that you would ever leave him, that you would ever die. Luci was never good with his own thoughts and feelings, but the way you made him feel was nearly enough to convince him that, in some way, you would just plain live forever. But of course, this was not the case: It didn't matter that you were fantastical enough to love and be loved by the Devil; you were still very much a human. Very much mortal. So susceptible to things like time and illness and injury. Lucifer was the King of Indulgences. It was extremely rare for him to experience regret. But when your time inevitably ran out, remorse filled him like smoke filled his lungs with every cigarette he ran through from the moment your funeral arrangements were decided. He could never regret knowing you, as much as part of him thought doing so would spare him this pain. He tried to think of how much better he might've been had he never met you, and it always felt like he was stuck in his own personal Hell Loop with everything going wrong over and over no matter how hard he tried to change it. He regretted that for as much time as he lived up with you, he felt like he didn't use nearly enough of that time to just . . . enjoy you. You in your mortality, your fleeting beauty and love that would nonetheless haunt him for however long he might go on for. So maybe . . . for eternity? This didn't feel like his own personal Hell Loop: This was his own personal Hell Loop. And until he learned to forgive himself, it would never end. So he'd be stuck here for maybe . . . eternity.

Which one I could see as being lactose intolerant: Neither. Unless they get brought down to mortal enough, Celestials generally don't suffer ailments, let alone from things like food allergies.

Who thinks they can do something really well even though they can't?: Lucifer . . . It's not that he's not smart. But by Dad, he is lacking in so much self-awareness that it can be maddening. He thinks he's pretty good at following Dr. Linda's advice (and, to an extent, he's progressing). But the fact of the matter is, he's incredibly troubling at best. Not nearly as bad as some patients, mind you, but when Linda admitted to you that one or two sessions of Lucifer completely misinterpreting her advice nearly drove her to consider adding a secret bar into her desk, you believed her and didn't blame her for one bit.

Who is more likely to get kicked out of bed?: Lucifer is a changed devil. But it's a very slow change. You're more than happy to understand and accept this, but that doesn't mean you have to let him and his issues walk all over you. Sometimes, the big dummy just says or does things without thinking -- or because he thought too hard and thought this was the best decision to avoid further strife. And you try to be patient with him about these tendencies, you really do. But that doesn’t erase your ability to be upset by these habits, or your right to be. And no amount of him buttering you up is going to be acceptable, even when he comes by your place, armed with a dish he so thoughtfully prepared for you. Nope, he can literally go to Hell with that (really, you’re sure the demons there would appreciate a nice beef wellington); you just need some space. Ironically, this may create a cycle wherein his need to make you happy again and have your attention on him drives him to constantly hover around you and attempt to win you over, which in turn just further frustrates you. It’ll likely keep going until you either snap or a loved one pulls Luci to the side and gives him a heads up that maybe he should respect your boundaries. After all, intention isn’t the problem here: It’s the actions taken. And as much as it hurts him knowing that he accidentally hurt you, he has to respect your need for time to cool off. He forces himself to go back to his place and tries to think less about how he feels and more about how you might feel, and try to work out ways to avoid similar incidents in the future. And even though the conclusions he comes to may not be perfect, you at least respect the effort -- particularly when he next sees you, no longer armed with snacks from your favorite bakery or bouquet-carrying teddy bears. Instead, all he has is an apology. It’s sheepish, and it feels foreign to someone who rarely experiences shame or regret, but you know his whole heart is in it even if he himself doesn’t understand entirely why that is. Which is good because that’s just part one of the process; part two involves him warming up that spot in your bed that’s reserved for him!

Who uses the computer the most?: You, absolutely. Lucifer's adorably but altogether completely crap when it comes to technology. Besides, he can easily find other things with which to amuse himself, and doing the paperwork is for other people anyway.

Thank you sooooo much for participating again!!! It really means a lot!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

[catzula]

a/n: I just love Suna so much *screams*

honorable mentions: crackfic-like? The handsome-stranger-you-meet-at-the-airport au, swearing, 1.2k

It's a night flight.

Suna always preferred night flights, anyway.

Suna doesn't like flying. Sitting in a cramped seat for hours can't be anyone's favorite hobby, but he hates flying with a passion. For starters- it's unhygienic. The air has a strange smell to itself, as well, and it never fails to give him goosebumps and an urge to stop inhaling altogether.

He hates the tasteless coffee they serve, and the little packets of nuts remind him of the day he had discovered his nut allergy in a flight like this. The leather seats making him feel sticky with sweat, but the air conditioning brings him on the brink of hypothermia.

If there was an injection of sorts he could take that would put him in a coma during the flight, Suna wouldn't think twice before taking it, and based on all this, it's fair to say he can get a little cranky in airports.

As someone with not too much energy to spare, airports are exhausting for him. He already doesn't like running, but Kita is a little too punctual to let him rest or buy a coffee from Starbucks. The twins' fighting about something new every other minute never already driving him mad, but being surrounded by overly stressed people doesn't help, either.

"I will jump out of the window if I have to sit next to Atsumu on the flight." Suna had told the captain months before, the exact moment he had heard he would have to fly with the team.

That was the very reason the middle blockers seat was all the way in the back, located next to the window and a stranger. Suna can't be happier- all he wants is some peace and quiet, anyway, to wear his sleep mask and headphones and cut ties with reality as much as he can.

"You good there?" Suna barely hears Atsumu's irritating voice through his headphones, lips curling in annoyedly as he turns to the boy to send a glare- but to his surprise, the fake blond isn't looking at Suna.

"Oh, I- ah fuck- yeah!" He hears a voice, and it takes him a second to notice you who stands before the seats, arms reaching up for the overhead cabins and successfully blocking Suna from his seat. You must be the stranger he'll have to spend the next eight hours with, he supposes.

The tired gaze looks you up and down, you who is fighting a bag half your size- shouldn't that be under the plane?- and trying to push it into the overhead cabins. It's apparent you're struggling, arms shaking with the heaviness of the bag, biting your lip to muffle the sounds of your wrestling.

Despite your words, anyone who has eyes could tell you are, in fact, not fine.

In desperate need of a pair of longer arms, you peek at the tall brunette standing next to you; he's huge, broad shoulders and a height that makes you wonder if he hit his head on the way here. He looks familiar- if you weren't in as much of a pinch- you might've let out an audible gasp when you realized why he looked so familiar.

He's the stranger you'd seen earlier that day, standing in the line across of you, looking tired and black-painted nails scrolling down his phone. The all-black fit he has only adds to the mysterious aura surrounding him, arms slumped forward nonchalantly. You remember thinking if you'd ever see him or anyone as handsome ever again, making scenarios in your mind as to what kind of a man he is. You never thought you'd ever meet him again, though.

Suna notices the silent cry of help you have in your eyes, even when you avert your gaze away from him and mask your desperation- but he's no fool, he can tell when someone lookshim with an open need of help.

Well.

Suna admits he's no saint, either.

He can help you out, and you both can sit your seats, but he doesn't really care, nor has the energy to help you. All he wants to do is to sit down already -even though it would suffice if he just pushed the bag with his fingertips, but Atsumu beside you smiling at you does look a little more eager to help than he does, anyway. There you go, a prince charming ready to help.

Suna seems unfazed by the glare you send his way -any scenario you've created falling in disappointment, too, really? He wouldn't even offer to help?- as he bends in half to slip through the triangle-shaped gap you've created with your arms, slipping underneath them to get to his seat and-

A shriek outs your lips as you watch the bright blue bag slide from your fingertips, it's almost like slow motion, watching the object fall right on top of the boys' head.

"Ah! What the-" Suna groans in pain right after hearing a loud thump caused by the crash of the luggage and his skull. "What the fuck?"

Fox-like eyes are quick to find you, going between your panic-stricken and slightly amused face and the bag resting before your feet. "I-I'm so sorry!" You exclaim, but your strained voice sounds more like you're holding back a laugh instead of guilty.

Well. Karma is a bitch.

"Here, let me help." Atsumu offers maybe a little too late as he lifts your bag off the ground -Atsumu hopes he managed to hide how much he struggled, too. Honestly? What do you have in there?- and places it in the cupboard. "Thank you." You at least have the decency to look grateful at the blonde, giving him a pretty smile. "I'm so sorry," you repeat, turning your focus back to the brunette, who is rubbing his head in pain. "It just slipped out of my hand!"

To your dismay, Suna doesn't even spare you a glance as he mutters a "Whatever." Frowning and finally plopping himself down on his seat.

You narrow your eyes but stay silent as you do the same, too, settling in the seat, accidentally elbowing him one too many times as you try to get your damn jacket off.

You can feel his dissatisfied glare as the flight attendant brings the man sitting beside you a packet of ice, and you ignore the "tch!" sound he makes as he places the ice on the crown of his head.

"Bye, Suna!" The blonde you've seen earlier waves a goodbye at the stranger sitting next to you- Suna, you think, a pretty name for a man as cross as him.

"Are you okay?" You mutter under your breath, raising your gaze to take a better look at him. His face contorted in pain- he's the type of handsome you only get to meet in an airport. It's unfair how good-looking the man is, his shapely lip rolled between his teeth, deep-brown locks tousled and messy, and he has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen in your life.

Suna doesn't answer your question, but he makes it clear he's heard you with a scoff, eyes rolling in annoyance, averting his gaze to his phone. It makes you feel angry- being ignored as if you're a six-year-old kid.

"I'm not sorry, actually. You had it coming." You huff pettily, lips pursing when he keeps his silence.

"Okay, I'm a little sorry." You mutter after a few awkwardly silent seconds, suddenly feeling guilty. You did drop a heavy ass bag on his head, after all. "But not much."

You turn your eyes away from him when he sighs, annoyance evident in the sound. "And?" He hums, voice monotone and deep. "Which answer I give will make you stop talking to me?"

Suna knows that was unnecessary as hurt and embarrassment flash across your face- he notices that's the first time he even looked at you that night. Well, he can get unreasonable at airports, he agrees.

"That was rude." Suna comments after a few awkward seconds.

"It was." You agree. "But I was rude, as well."

"You kind of were."

To his answer, you can't hold back a lighthearted chuckle, the oddness of the situation dawning on the both of you. "This might be in the top 10 strangest ways I met someone." You chuckle, he does, too, but with a sarcastic quirk of his brow.

He has a pretty smile, plump lips curving just enough to show you a glimpse of his white teeth, enhancing the sharp features of his face. "Only top ten? That's a shame."

You don't speak as Suna closes the sleeping mask over his eyes -it has a cat print on it too, how cute- as a smile still lingers on his lips. "Good thing I have eight hours to at least make it into top five."

[bts-reveries]

expect the unexpected | 10

pictures in between!

You wake up a little later than usual. Not a surprise since you don’t have to prepare for three kids + your husband’s breakfast. Making sure Minseok and Soojin have all of their books, their homework, and their lunch ready. Haneul, of course, following you everywhere around the house. 

The morning was rather quiet. 

“Mmm,” Jin groans from behind you. Your back was facing him as you laid on your side, facing the window in front of you. 

“Good morning,” Jin says in a low and raspy voice, propping himself up on his elbows. “Happy anniversary,” he says, leaning down to press kisses all over your cheeks, neck, and shoulders. You couldn’t help but giggle as you were especially ticklish on your neck. You roll over on your back and look up at him, smiling. 

“Happy anniversary,” you repeat back, looking up at his eyes, then his lips before you two met halfway. 

Can you believe over a thousand plus kisses ago, you and Jin had your first kiss as husband and wife? 

Now here you two are, in bed, kissing on your tenth anniversary. 

“I love you,” you say, as you pull away from his face. 

“I love you too,” your husband responds. “You and your stinky breath.”

-

After ten years of marriage, three kids, and twelve best friends and six nieces and nephews later, you have reached everything you’ve ever wanted.

A happy marriage.

Three sweet, smart, and beautiful kids.

The best friends you could have ever had, that turned into family. 

Nieces and nephews who are your kids’ forever best friends.

Each day with them, even if it’s stressful and hard, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. 

Meeting Jin has brought you to meet so many great people that made you have the best life you could ever have.

It’s safe to say that you love that man so so so so sO much.

“So last night,” Jin says as he brings you a plate of pancakes. “You said you just wanted to go out and visit the flower fields, then the beach, and then we can come back here to make lunch together right?” He says, listing out all the things you told him about yesterday. It’s been a while since you two went on solo dates, and the day seems a little simple for a ten year anniversary, but hey! You’re not with three little (lovely) monsters that will drag you and your husband away from each other!

“You’re right,” you say. “What about you? You didn’t really plan anything you wanted to do.” Jin shakes his head, a glass of orange juice on his lips. 

“I have plans for tonight,” he says. “But that’s a secret.” He winks at you, getting up from his seat and leaving you alone on the table.

“Hey where are you going?” You say, smiling at him as he walks away. A surprise? You were both curious and excited.

-

“Do you have my allergy medicine?” Jin asks you, sneezing uncontrollably as you two get closer to the fields. You frown, letting go of his hand as you searched your bag.

“Oh no, I don’t think I brought it,” you say, rustling through your bag. “I think that’s what I forgot..” You reach in and grab tissues instead. “Here,” you say, wiping your husband’s nose. You laugh when Jin bends down for you. He reminded you of your son. 

“You remind me of Minseok right now,” you say. 

“Of course, handsomeness is passed down from generation to generation.” You quirk up an eyebrow at him.

“I meant you two both have runny noses that I always have to wipe,” you say. “Now let’s go,” you say, turning around. Jin looks at you confused.

“Where are you going? We’re going that way,” he says, pointing to the direction where the two of you were going to first.

“We won’t have fun if your nose and eyes are going to keep itching,” you say. “It’s okay. We can go to the beach first, buy some allergy medicine, and then we can come back tomorrow.”

-

~before this photo was taken~

“Let’s take a picture,” you tell Jin, taking out your phone from your back pocket. 

“Okay, give it to me,” he says, taking your phone and walking away from you. You scrunch your brows at him. 

“Jin,” you say. He stands in front of you with your phone held in front of him. 

“Smile,” he says, ignoring you. You give him a weak smile and after he clicks, you walk up to him taking your phone from his hands.

“I said let’s. Meaning you and I?” You say. Jin scoffs, taking the phone from you again.

“You could’ve said, let’s take a selfie,” he says, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you close. “Smile,” he says, holding up your phone to show a view of the ocean behind you two.

“Let’s take another one, do you think someone else can take it for us?” You say, looking around.

“Yeah, I mean we can ask someone.”

“Okay, go ask that guy over there,” you say, pushing him towards the young man walking down the shore line. 

“Why me? You ask him,” he says, pushing your phone to your chest. 

“No,” you refuse, pushing your phone back into him. “You know how dangerous it is for a woman like me to go talk to random men?? You go.”

“Okay fine. Hmm,” he says, looking around. “Go ask that lady then.” Again, he pushes your phone back to you.

“No, you ask her,” you say, giving your phone back to him. 

“You know how dangerous it is for you to let your gorgeous husband go up to a woman sitting alone on the beach??” He argues. Again, pushing your phone back to your chest. “What if she thinks I’m asking for her number when I hand her your phone?”

“Well when she sees my wallpaper of us and our three kids, she’ll realize you aren’t!” you say. “Now ask her, please.” 

-

After the beach, you and Jin went back to the airbnb for lunch. Rather than going out, the two of you thought that making lunch together may be a better way to celebrate. Just like old times.

“So what should we cook?” Jin says, looking in the fridge. It may have went over your head that you two have to go and actually buy some ingredients first. “Aaaand it’s empty.” You laugh as he stands up straight, turning to you. 

“Quick shopping trip?” You say, pointing towards the door. Jin laughs, nodding his head. He grabs the keys from the counter and walks towards you, swinging his arm over your shoulder.

“This may possibly be the fastest grocery shopping experience we may ever have since having kids.”

“So what’s the surprise?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows at your husband. The two of you had just finished lunch and were currently in your room. 

“What surprise?” He asks, completely clueless looking. 

“The surprise you have for me,” you say, sitting up as you were laying in bed. 

“Oh I was just joking,” he says, sitting down next to you. “Let’s take a nap, the beach tired me out.” Your husband then lays over the comforter, putting his hand on his chest like a corpse. 

“Tired you out how? We just walked around and sat on the sand.” You turned around, looking at him and he was fast asleep. “Oh you old man,” you say, laying back down next to him. 

It only took a few minutes for you to fall asleep. Jin opens up one eye when he heard your light snores, turning to the side to see your mouth slightly open. He laughs to himself.

“And I’m the old man.”

To be fair, being a mom of three kids, falling asleep whenever you get the chance is easy.

Jin slowly gets up from the bed and walks out of the room, getting ready for your surprise.

He quickly got dressed and slipped out of the airbnb without you noticing. As long as there are no noises, you should be asleep the entire time he’s gone.

Of course he had to get you flowers and cake. It was kind of weird to go into a bakery and not see a single familiar face. No Yoongi, no Sohyun or aunty Sohu as Haneul liked to call her, no Taehyung, and no Rina. Just some guy named Huening Kai. 

“Anniversary?” The young man says. He looks at the roses Jin was holding. 

Jin nods at him, “ten years.” The man’s mouth went into an ‘o’ shape.

“Wow, how long have you two been married? Or are you married?” Jin laughs at his question and the young man laughs along shyly, not knowing as to why Jin was laughing exactly.

“Ten years, we’ve been married for ten years. Together for eighteen,” he explains. Huening Kai’s eyes widened. He laughed again as he typed in the order.

“That’s how old I am,” he says. Now Jin’s eyes get big. 

“Maybe I am the old man..” he thought. 

Jin gets back to your airbnb and, as he thought, you were still asleep. 

He puts the flowers next to the cake on the table and goes into your room to wake you up.

Again, your mouth was open, but of course Jin was used to that. He leans in to kiss you on the lips anyways. 

You respond back with a snore. 

He frowns, leaning down to kiss you again.

Still asleep.

He sighs, kissing you again. This time, you giggle during the kiss. Jin pulls away, upset.

“Yah, were you awake the whole time?” He says, annoyed. Jokingly of course.

“Yeah, I woke up after the first kiss. Were you worried that you weren’t my true love?” You joke. Referring to all the fairytales and movies you show to the kids. Jin would often tell Soojin that he was her true love which is why she always woke up whenever he would kiss her forehead in the morning. 

“A little,” he mumbles. Standing above you, Jin extends his hand out. “But whatever, get up.”

You frown up at him. “Why?”

“Day’s not over, it’s still our anniversary and we have plans.”

“I thought we didn’t,” you say.

“Surprise! We have a date.”

expect the unexpected

♡ part ten: ten years ♡ 

pairings: ceo, dad!jin x interior designer, mom!reader

a/n: this is super choppy, but i think is cute lol

taglist: @silentlyimpractical @jillianmarie @waddlebby @cecedrake2217 @ddofa @samros95 @sope-and-shine @joonjoonsmiles @codeinebelle @aianloveseven @Chamchamcham @princessjazzyjazz @notvantaes @casspirit0705 @ramyagovindraj @brinnalaine @ephyra1230 @betysotelo18 @thoughtfultaledreamer @salty-for-suga @cosmicdaylight @dreamcatcherjiah @kookoo-kachoo @justinetingball  @josierosie @jayhope88 @butterflylion @hobiismyhopeu @momma-said-that-it-was-oke @shinyplaidbagellamp @catspancake  @somewhereofftheglobe @strawberryforever25 @rjsmochii @prdshobi @beeeb05 @eatjeanjin @taekookcaneatme @Cheeely14 @kookietsukkie @anpanman-sonyeondan @glitteringcoffeefreak @chocobetterknot @alpaca1612 @ohmy-fandoms @liljooniecutie @Jikachoo @preciouschimine @fan-ati--c @Joondala @httpmuffin @dammit-jjk @jikooksgirl19

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[saphirered]

would you mind doing a little scene maybe of caduceusxreader or maybe calebxreader where their s/o ends up hit with pollen during battle that gets them super high alla knott and the floor fruit style please?

Little turned into a bit more of a scenes instead 😅. A little disclaimer; I do not condone the abuse of substances especially not illegal ones. Listen to your auntie Saph, kids! Stay in school and be responsible! 😘

Content Warning: Use of mind altering substances.

It’s the middle of a fight in the jungle. You’re under attack by a large lizard walking on its hind legs, with some rather useless short arms but huge sharp teeth that have munched on Fjord one too many times leaving the half-orc in a bleeding and moody state without much of a chance to get out and not get hit again.

The battlefield is not in your favour considering this oversized lizard is about to turn your friend into its next meal but you still have a healing potion left and really, this is the time to use it but you can’t really get to Fjord without getting close to the lizard thing and even then you doubt you’d be able to get into arms reach of the man. Well it’s now or never and better than the alternative. You rush forward dodging below the toothy maw of the creature.

“Fjord! Catch!” With that you get as close as you can, tossing the healing potion. Fjord just barely catches it, thanking you but that quickly falls silent.

“Look out!” Caleb shouts as he releases a firebolt to strike the lizard. It does not stop the creature from swiping with its tail sending you flying with a brute force knocking the air out of you. Luckily your landing is softened by a comfy bed of flowers, moss and some mushrooms. You land a cloud of spores and pollen dusting around you and entering your lungs as the first breath you’re able to take. It leaves you coughing and sneezing but you shake it off. This is not the right time for allergies to be kicking in. You got a lizard to kill.

Together you fight off the lizard. Still taking quite some good hits you deliver some as well and in the end manage to kill the thing. Some of you worse for wear you unanimously decided taking a breather is probably a good idea. You find a comfy patch of moss that does not release a dust cloud the moment you touch it and let yourself fall into its soft embrace, eyes closed.

“I’m just going to lie down over here. Let me know when we’re moving again.” An odd sense of nausea kicks in so you turn to your side and just curl up in an attempt to get a little more comfortable on the jungle floor.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Caleb asks looking you over. Physically you're a bit worse for wear but not terribly so. A moment of rest should have you back on your feet. You phase out a bit letting yourself be dragged off in a moment of rest.

Not but five minutes later your moment of peace is disturbed by a warm, really warm but comfortable hand being placed on your arm and shaking you lightly. You curl up a little tighter before rolling on your back and meeting the bright blue eyes of Caleb. You don’t recall them being that bright, maybe more like a muted or pale blue but now they’re vibrant. Odd you hadn’t noticed before. Same goes for his hair, red is more fiery orange and you swear you can pick apart every single strand on his head as well as the light stubble he’s sporting.

"Hey." You smile at the wizard lovingly. You'll never tire of waking up to Caleb no matter of how much you might want to continue sleeping. Caleb's a handsome man but right now he looks absolutely angelic with the bleeding light creating a halo around him.

Maybe it’s just because of the faded green background behind Caleb that throws off the contrast? Besides, you might have fallen asleep in your five minutes of rest, your vision usually goes a bit blurry until things come into focus but that doesn’t really explain why Caleb is so high focus now… Odd but you dismiss it as exhaustion and the vast jungle getting to you. No, you definitely hit your head when that lizard tail swiped you. Maybe you have a concussion. Should ask the clerics to check that out later once they’ve gotten their rest. Now's not the time to bother them.

“Hey. Time to get up. We’re ready to move before nightfall comes around.” Ugh. Even his voice sounds angelic now? Caleb offers you a hand and helps you up from the comforts of your moss-bed. Somewhat reluctant you get up. The nausea gets worse and you put a hand over your mouth suppressing the urge to vomit.

“Are you alright?” Caleb stabilises you as you stumble a little, dizziness not making your nausea any better. Sweet gods those warm hands just make you want to curl up into their warmth forever but you repress the urge well aware Caleb isn’t exactly the fondest of pda and keep it more surface levels with the others around.

“Yeah. Totally fine just a bit ugh but I’ll be fine. Some more sleep will probably do me good.” You see the rest of the Nein is packed up and ready to continue. Weren’t they just unpacking when you closed your eyes five minutes ago? Okay so maybe those five minutes were closer to an hour or so? What kind of exhaustion fuelled time warp did you get stuck in? This exhaustion is really getting to you. You need a vacation; one with Caleb. Maybe with an ocean view? That sounds nice. You're getting side tracked. Time to travel.

------------

The journey continues deeper into the jungle towards your destination and your limbs get heavier and heavier. Did Jester paint you some lead shoes and replace yours while you were asleep? Did she do your clothes too? Because your whole body feels so heavy.

You bump into Caleb’s side. A hand finds its way to the small of your back and the warmth returns. You didn’t realise you’re feeling so cold, freezing almost so you allow yourself to lean just a bit more into Caleb’s side to bask in the warmth provided by your flaming hot wizard.

“You don’t happen to be able to make someone do the floaty glide thingy Essek can do, can’t you?” Caleb is confused by your sudden question and the unfiltered sentencing. You usually formulate your words more carefully than this but it seems as if the word ‘gravity’ has escaped your vocabulary. Caleb blames it on exhaustion seeing your somewhat unfocused state and feeling the weight of your body leaning on him for support. You’ve been walking for hours, running for a few and fought a giant lizard of a forgotten era after all. You have every right to be tired and he'll support you in any way he can.

“Ah, I’m afraid not. But, we will be setting down for the night once we reach a clear spot.” Didn’t you catch that conversation? You were there for it providing nods and noises of agreement while keeping an eye out for anything approaching. This is a bit odd for you so Caleb decides to keep an eye on you.

You hear birds chirping around you, their song drowning out Caleb’s words but not voice as he talks to you but the song is just too beautiful, it brings a smile to your face. Looking around you can see them sometimes. Colourful feathers popping against the green and the muted flashes of a sun lowering. If the sun’s going to sleep, you want to go soon too. It’s not really fair if you have to keep walking when it gets to lie down.

The colours and patterns through the leaves are very pretty though and the rays bleeding through are to die for. The world should look like this forever. It’s so beautiful, pulsing with every breath you take. No, you’re breathing with the nature around you. You get a newfound respect for Caduceus and Fjord’s Wildmom. She’s pretty cool if she’s responsible for all this. Is she responsible for all this? She gets your credit anyway.

You’re pulled to a sudden stop, or at least it feels sudden. Caleb is suddenly in front of you pulling your focus towards him and away from the chirping birds and the setting sun and the Wildmom. You’d ask Caleb to leave you alone but his gentle smile alone and warm hands on your shoulders pushing you down to sit on a tree stump call for your undivided attention in turn pulling it away from the gently blowing breeze and kaleidoscope of colours.

“You’re exhausted. Sit down and rest while we set up.” Caleb suggests and you find yourself nodding the words not entirely registering. Warm fingers press against your cheek before they pull away all too soon. The warmth leaves your body as Caleb leaves your side and the freezing cold returns. You wrap your coat tighter around yourself in an effort to preserve the heat but nothing seems to work.

You try to focus on your surroundings to distract from the icy cold, the humid jungle temperatures doing nothing to keep you warm. The crickets provide a beautiful symphony with the rustling leaves, the last of the song birds going to sleep and the awakening of the nocturnal creatures. It helps and you find yourself swaying lightly from side to side with the melody. It brings you a sense of happiness and content as well as a connection to everything around you.

You feel yourself beginning to drift when something warm and soft and a little heavy is draped across your shoulders. The warmth is similar to Caleb but not entirely the same, though you’re met with an intense smell of molasses, old books and whatever remains after a fire has turned to embers. Your eyes fall upon the dark purple material of Caleb’s coat; most of all the geometric patterns of the lining. They are enchanting and you feel like you could get lost in them.

“You’re shivering. Come. We’re all set up.” You once again allow Caleb to guide you back to your feet and pull you along to where the Nein had set up. Sitting down with you Caleb takes out his spellbook and a small crystal bead. You've always loved watching Caleb cast spells, something alluring to the practiced words and patterns. He begins to weave his hands through the air in front of him, the light sparks of magic following his fingertips as he speaks the words, what you didn’t expect to see is the trails left by the motions. You’ve never seen those before. That’s new. They’re very pretty though; a warm orange trail of embers just like him. Enamoured you stare, making no effort to hide or avert your gaze. You catch Caleb's eyes and he offers you a half smile which you dopily return continuing to watch the patterns.

You’re rudely pulled out of your trance by Caduceus offering you a bowl of food. Usually you would have jumped at the promise of food, the firbolg’s cooking is unrivalled but now the nausea comes back and your stomach twists at the smell alone. You turn to the side fighting the urge vomit and as politely as possible and decline the delicious food much to your dismay.

Caleb does accept the food he’s offered as Veth happily accepts your serving as seconds. Caleb sniffs the food expecting it to smell off somehow because of your reaction but it doesn’t. It’s as perfect as ever and you’re not one to refuse food when offered. As he begins eating you excuse yourself finding a spot where you don’t have to look at your friends consuming their food both, because of the strong smell and the look of it. While delicious the thought of the texture sends your brain in overdrive where you get an overwhelming phantom taste which only intensifies the nausea.

Finding a spot still within the dome but far enough to be comfortable you just watch the geometric patterns in the lining of Caleb’s coat. Not only do you focus on the patterns but you’re pretty sure you can count the individual threats of the fabric. The colours and contrast intense pull you in almost pervasively so.

A hand shakes your shoulder turning you to face them. It’s Caleb and he looks rather worried. The expression alone carries over to you. What’s he worried about? It’s not bad is it? Is it because of you? Oh, no maybe it is you… You’re set into a train of emotions and anxiety and when Caleb notices his expression softens but the worry does not leave.

“Hey, hey. I need you to breathe, okay? Just keep breathing.” You follow his instructions taking deep breathes and the anxiety mutes replaced by a hyper fixation on Caleb. Literally, everything around the wizard fades into the distance when he steps into your vision but you manage to force yourself to be aware of your surroundings with a lot of effort.

“Very good. Now, you want to tell me what’s going on?” From over Caleb’s shoulder you see Veth stuff her mouth with the food you refused and that alone is enough to make you gag. Caleb notices and shifts to break your line of sight. Oh no, you can smell it again. You cover your mouth and nose and lean forward letting your forehead fall against his clavicle taking deep breaths of the comfy molasses, old pages and smouldering fire scent.

“I don’t know but one more sniff of food and I’ll vomit so please take mercy on me and save me from the savoury deliciousness until this nausea passes.” Caleb wraps his arms around you, one hand rubbing circles into your back while the other lightly plays with the hairs on the back of your neck to alleviate your suffering. Of course he’s trying to piece together what’s happened because you’re behaviour added up is not entirely like you. Right now his priority is making sure you're comfortable.

He keeps this going as one by one the Nein goes to sleep, Caleb and by default you taking the first watch. You don’t yet feel comfortable removing yourself from Caleb’s arms but do find a more comfortable position for the both of you to spare you the numbness of limbs.

The longer you sit around your mind starts to feel less hazy, the hyper focus lessens and your stomach calls for sustenance, the nausea fading. Luckily Caduceus had saved you some leftovers which you happily nibble on. The spices and herbs providing extra flavours are intense but no longer unwelcome or nauseating. Regardless of what caused this all, you didn’t think Caduceus’ food could taste any better but damn does it taste beyond divine. You’ve rediscovered your appetite and finish the leftovers.

While sitting in Caleb’s embrace, head on his stomach holding the book you’re both reading Caleb’s coat long since returned to him you’re feeling mentally exhausted, but your mind is at ease, as if all stress and pressure of the world around you has faded for just a moment. You’re at peace in the arms of the man you love and surrounded by your friends.

The realisation that despite all the bad you’ve gone through together it’s all been worth it a thousand times over and you wouldn’t change a thing. A yawn escapes as you turn the page, knowing Caleb will have read it several times at this point.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“You’d think with all the breaks and rest you’ve already gotten today you’d have trouble sleeping again.” Caleb recalls the times where you’ve taken breaks before and spent half of the night up getting rid of the energy just to get a moment of sleep in the more stressful days where sleep does not come easily; days like the past few have been.

“I would have but none of those times did I actually catch a break. I was nauseas for hours, everything felt and looked intense, could only focus on one thing at the time visually even though for some reason I was hyper aware of my senses.” You turn the page again as Caleb pulls you a little closer, about to press a kiss to your shoulder. He stops, retreats and instead brushes his fingers over it.

“Maybe I was just on an exhaustion or anxiety high running on my last bit of energy and now we get a moment to relax and breathe, that’s what gotten me back to earth.” Caleb doesn’t respond and when you look up at him from over your shoulder you see Caleb closely inspecting the fingers he brushed over your shoulder.

“You know, I’m beginning doubt this change of mood was induced by exhaustion.” He runs his fingers together and you see the light dust pulverise. Confused you signal for Caleb to elaborate on his train of thought because you’re still feeling a little slow.

“Remember the tumble you took into the patch of flowers and mushrooms?”

“You mean when I got my ask kicked by an oversized lizard? Yeah, hard to forget.” You grasp at your ribs as if to relief a still lasting ache from the hit of the creature’s tail. You turn around, putting the book down and sit on your knees between Caleb’s legs as things begin to fall into place for the both of you. Your landing... Oh no...

“I don’t think that dust cloud upon impact was just dust or pollen.” You throw your head back and groan. Unbelievable. Through the lasting peace and calm you feel the embarrassment peak through as well as annoyance at the whole situation.

“So you’re telling me I’ve been tripping balls for the past six or so hours?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying.” Caleb states deadpanned before he breaks and laughs at you. You deserve it really. Stubbornness to admit something’s wrong is what got you so far. Should have told someone you weren’t feeling right and it definitely wasn’t exhaustion but no and it was already too late when the ‘beauty of the world’ took hold of your mind.

“Well then, take comfort that it’s not just the spores leave me completely enamoured with you.” You peck Caleb’s nose and poke his stomach to get him to quit laughing before he wakes up the others. You won’t hear the end of this that’s for damn sure so best to keep this incident between the two of you. Let the other’s believe you’re just over-exhausted.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Mario Kart Double Dash

(Story Post)

Theo and Henderson were both at the former's apartment watching TV when his phone went off. Unfortunately, he'd left it on the kitchen counter and it wasn't easy to move from the couch now that he was 16 weeks pregnant with alien quadruplets. “I got it,” Henderson said getting up to swipe the phone and handed it to Theo. “Merci,” Theo said as he took it and checked the caller ID. He was surprised to see it was Korsy. He answered it. “Hello?” “Theo, you home?” “Yeah.” “Okay, I'm coming up.” “Do you need me to open the balcony door?” “No, I'll take the elevator,” Korsy said. “Just buzz me in?” “Yeah, for sure.”

A few minutes later Korsy was knocking on the door. Henderson let him in. Korsy's usual smirking nature had dissolved into a more frantic and nervous demeanour. He waved to Theo on the couch. “Hey, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?” “No. Would it matter?” Theo sighed. “Are you alright, man?” Henderson asked putting a hand on Korsy's shoulder. “You look pale.” “No, I'm fine…” Korsy said, scratching the back of his head. No one was convinced. “Theo, how have you been?” Theo shrugged. “No more morning sickness. Not in a while, anyway…” “Well, that's good!” Korsy said. He patted Henderson's back. “And I imagine you're taking good care of him?” “Doing my best.” He closed the door behind Korsy. “Are you hungry?” “No, no,” Korsy said. “Have you eaten recently?” Henderson added. “Do you have allergies or dietary restrictions?” “I, uh, no, not really and no,” Korsy said. “But I'm not hungry, it's okay.” “Alright.” Henderson went into the kitchen anyway and started heating up a bowl of stew. “Come sit,” Theo said. “Talk to me.” Korsy went over and sat down, although he still didn't seem particularly relaxed. “You need to tell me what's up,” Theo said. “You are clearly upset about something.” “Yeah, well, I, uh…” Korsy took a deep breath. “Um, I have a friend I've been, you know, getting benefits from and we're not serious or anything, but uh…” Henderson came back and placed the bowl of stew in Korsy's hands before going and sitting down himself. “Eat.” “Oh, uh. Thanks.” “Don't mention it.” Korsy took a moment to try some of the broth. “This is very good.” “My mother sent it over,” Henderson said. “Tell her she's an incredible chef,” Korsy said. “I will. Now, please continue. What's this about a friend with benefits?” “Right…” Korsy scratched the back of his neck. “We didn't know it was possible, but I might've…gotten him pregnant.” Theo's eyes widened. “Oh my god, really?” “How would you believe it wasn't possible?” Henderson asked. “Is he trans?” “No, he's cis. That's why we didn't think it could happen,” Korsy said. “How did it happen, then?” Theo asked. “Or ‘maybe’ happen.” “It's kinda weird and complicated,” Korsy explained. “But he accidentally ate something he shouldn't have and it gave him a womb and now he doesn't want to talk to me and I don't know what to do.” “Um, what in the world did he eat?” Henderson asked. “Alien made stuff,” Korsy said. “You don't have to worry about it. APID has it now. Probably will study it then destroy it.” “Okay, as long as it's not like some weird new mango or something,” Theo said. “Although, do they have to destroy it?” Henderson said. “I bet some transwomen would love that. Even some cis gay couples trying to have kids.” “Well, they are studying it,” Korsy said. “Too untested and unregulated as it is right now.” “Yeah, that's fair,” Henderson said. “Well, you don't know yet for sure if he's pregnant, right?” Theo said. “It could just be a close call.” “That's what we're hoping,” Korsy said. “But, I just… I don't want this to ruin what we have going on. At first it was just sex, but I feel like we're becoming good friends, like you and me.” “I've met you like three times,” Theo said. “That's a lot for me, to be honest,” Korsy said. “I'm away so much, if I want to make friends, it has to be quick.” “Also fair,” Henderson said. “Well, if you're going to be my friend, you have to understand that you don't leave my house hungry.” “This isn't your house,” Theo argued. “Wherever I am is home,” Henderson stated. “You certainly act like it…” Theo said. “Oh hush, you love that I feed you,” Henderson said, patting Theo’s belly. “Your mom feeds me,” Theo argued as well. “That's only sometimes. I cook for you.” Henderson turned back to their guest. “Korsy, don't you wrap it up?” “I do when there's, you know, a vagina involved. Or if they're not tellurian,” Korsy said. “Otherwise, it's whatever they want. Elves don't get STIs.” Henderson looked to Theo again. “Can you confirm?” “Confirm what?” Theo huffed. “I don't know if elves get STIs!” “No, you two almost boned,” Henderson said. “Did he wrap it up for you?” Theo blushed. “Oh. Uh, yes he did. Can we not talk about that? That was so embarrassing…” “What? It's nothing to be embarrassed about,” Henderson said. “You seduced an elf.” “Hardly, he seduced me,” Theo said. “I am certainly attracted to you,” Korsy admitted. Theo pulled a blanket over his head. “Seriously, this is too much…” “Elves certainly seem to like you as much as you like them,” Korsy said. “Considering how many you keep in company.” Henderson frowned, eyeing Korsy. “You're not still on about me being an elf?” “You're still denying it?” Korsy inquired. “I'm not an elf!” Henderson exclaimed. “The thing is, you are though,” Korsy stated. Henderson threw up his hands. “Fine, prove it then.” “Okay.” Korsy put the bowl of stew on the table, a smug grin crossing his face. “Have you ever been sick?” Henderson shrugged. “No.” “Are your ears very sensitive to touch?” Korsy asked. “Aren’t they all?” “Do you have a hard time growing body hair?” Henderson smirked. “No.” Korsy waved a hand. “That's neither here nor there… You're part human anyway.” “I'm all human,” Henderson stated. “Do you resonate with any one or more elements of nature?” Korsy continued. “For example, animals, water, ores, gemstones, fire, wind, the moon, the sun, the stars, etc.” “Define resonate,” Theo piped in. “Is it like a glow or something?” “No, it's like… Well, for me, I have a good bond with magical animals,” Korsy said. “Anyway, it's hard to explain. It's a really strong pull towards those kinds of things. And them to you.” “I can't think of anything like that,” Henderson said. “What about people?” Theo asked. “Henderson's really good at attracting a crowd. People always want to hear his stories and hang out with him at work and stuff.” “That's called being an extrovert,” Henderson stated rolling his eyes. “I mean some magical creatures have a way with people, but mostly demons and sirens,” Korsy said. “Demons are real?!” Theo gasped. “Oh, yeah. But don't worry about them. You're not surprised about the sirens, though?” “He met a mermaid already,” Henderson said. “At that pregnancy group.” “No, he's my case worker,” Theo said. “Oh, right! Fay!” Korsy recalled. “Yeah, Fay's cool.” “We are way off topic,” Theo re-centred. “Right.” Korsy stood up and held his hands out, palms up. “All these questions don't really matter as much as the physical. Stand up, Mr Neil. Lift your arms.” “This is stupid,” Henderson said but Theo nudged him and he got up reluctantly. “Hurry up.” “I said lift your arms,” Korsy said. “Also, it's easier with your shirt off.” “You're lucky you're cute...” Henderson stripped down to his waist and put his arms up. “What, might I ask, are you looking for?” “Elf mark,” Korsy said. “Don't worry, There's only three possible ones below the belt and they're very unlikely considering already what we know about you, so I'll only look for those ones if I don't find any other one.” “Well, you won’t so I might as well undo my drawstrings…” Henderson stated. “Also, I have a lot of ‘marks'. Even if you think you found something, it's probably my condition.” “Elf marks are very specific. It’s not gonna look like a skin condition.” Korsy took out his phone to cross reference a photo he had from a book he wasn't allowed to read, let alone photograph. He checked under Henderson's armpits first. “Not an aquatic elf...” He turned out both of Henderson’s palms. “Not wood or wild.” “How many are there?” Theo asked. “Uh, several,” Korsy said. “About nine, I think?” He went behind Henderson and sighed. “Darn, not Avariel. That would've been unlikely, but so cool...” “What are Avariel?” Henderson asked. “Winged elves,” Theo said excitedly, pulling himself up off the couch so he could look too. “You do know your stuff,” Korsy said. “Anyway, they're long gone.” Korsy pushed forward Henderson's ears to check behind them. “Not Star or Lythari.” “What's left?” Theo asked. “Just Drow, Sun and Moon,” Korsy said. “I don't think he'd be drow, but we'll check anyway. Pants off.” “Are you serious?” Henderson huffed. “You can keep your panties on,” Korsy shrugged. “Just need a look at the inner thigh and then your butt.” “Let me guess, Moon is on the butt?” Henderson sighed. “…Listen, I don't make this stuff up. It's ancient,” Korsy said. “I can assure you, there's nothing there,” Henderson stated. “How often do you look at your butt?” Korsy asked. “Probably a lot,” Theo said. “He has a nice butt.” “I have a nice butt,” Henderson concurred. “Well, we can check the Sun first if you want,” Korsy said. “Not much hope for that one though, but we'll see.” “Where's that one?” Theo asked. “Sole of the foot,” Korsy said. “My feet are completely vitiligo at this point,” Henderson said. “Even if there was something there, it'd be gone.” “Humour me,” Korsy said. Henderson grimaced, but he sat down and put his foot up on the coffee table. “You better not have a foot fetish or something.” “I'm just taking a look, I'm not taking pictures,” Korsy said. “You didn't say ‘no'.” “I don't have a foot fetish,” Korsy stated. “Frankly, it's the last place I want to look. I'm a butt guy.” He went around the coffee table and picked up Henderson's foot before putting it down. “Hm. Other one.” Henderson switched feet, and then Korsy's eyes lit up. He picked up the other man's foot and wiped at it with his thumb, checking in case what he was seeing was dirt. “What?” Henderson groaned in annoyance. “Ha, you're walking on sunshine, baby!” Korsy said in delight. “You have to be kidding...” Henderson pulled his foot back so he could get up and try to look at his sole. Right on his heel, he saw the little circle of spots with little dots around the outside, mimicking solar flares. “What the hell...” Theo spread his arms. “Oh my god, you're a Sun Elf!” Henderson exhaled in frustration and put his foot down. “I...ugh, this is dumb...” “Sun elves are pretty incredible, I'm not gonna lie,” Korsy said. “I didn't suspect them, but it wasn't impossible. The whole extrovert thing makes sense though. They're very civil and good with magic.” “Are you happy now?” Henderson snapped. “You figured it out. Now what? Do you like me more knowing I'm an elf?” “Whoa, man. Chill,” Korsy said. “It's not like that at all. Just wanted to help you discover something new about yourself. Don't you want to know your background?” “No! I knew my background!” Henderson exclaimed. “I was proud to be what I was! What I knew! People have always tried to tell me that being who and what I am was bad, secondary, unimportant. They wanted me to be something else! But I made myself love me and my skin! I love my black heritage! I don't need to be anything else! Do you understand that?” “I'm not trying to take any of that away from you,” Korsy said. “But, I'm sorry, man, I... I don't know, I thought you'd want to know.” “I've said I didn't want to know,” Henderson reminded. “I don't need you to think for me.” “I'm sorry. I thought...” Korsy didn't know what else to say. “Did you, though? Did you really think?” Henderson asked. “I only let you do this because you're going through some shit right now and you needed a distraction. But this is too far.” Korsy crossed his arms. “Look, man. I said I'm sorry. I don't know what else to tell you. I don't appreciate you insulting me." “Oh, fuck off, honestly,” Henderson said. “I'm done with this.” “You agreed to do this.” “I didn't think you'd actually find anything!” Henderson spat. He went to the door and started pulling on his shoes. “What, you're just leaving?” Theo asked, waddling over. “I'm sorry, Theo. I just gotta go,” Henderson said. “No, this is my fault.” Theo apologised. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have encouraged him...” “It's fine, okay?” Henderson said opening the door. “I still... I need to breathe.” “Okay...” “I will call you.” “Okay.” Korsy went to follow Henderson. “Listen, let's just talk about this.” “No. Stay here,” Henderson said, stopping him with his hand. “You and Theo can geek out about elf shit and whatever. I gotta go.” “Alright, dude...” Korsy sighed. “I am sorry. Really.” Henderson backed out and just shut the door. “Shit...” Korsy groaned and went back to the couch. He covered his face. “Fucking hell... Am I just pushing away everyone today?” “It's okay... Henderson will calm down,” Theo said, coming back and sitting down. “I think it's just a lot for him to take in... And you didn't push your friend away. Everyone needs time.” Korsy took his hands away and his eyes were tearing up. “I just... I don't want people to be miserable. Not because of me.” “No one wants that, but honestly, they won't be,” Theo said. “I mean, I've been pretty fucking miserable lately, but I do think I’ll get through this... You'll get through this and so will they. And let me handle Henderson.” “Yeah... I'm really sorry I dropped in out of nowhere and dropped all this drama on you,” Korsy said. “I know you've got a lot going on.” “I've pretty much just accepted this stuff, so there's not actually much for me to do, except just keep sitting on my ass...” Theo said. “In a few weeks, I'm supposed to start growing again though. Not looking forward to that.” “Well, you've got good care and I think you're gonna get through it,” Korsy said. “I appreciate that.” Theo patted Korsy's knee. “And don't apologise for looking for help. What's worrying you most about this situation, though?” Korsy took a deep breath. “My friend... He says he doesn't want to be pregnant, and he bought a pill for it... But, I don’t know, I'm worried he'll change his mind? And I can't...I can't be a dad...” “Boy, do I feel that...” Theo said, rubbing his stomach. “But, I mean, I don't know your friend, but if you feel like he feels the same way, then I don't think you should worry about it.” “Yeah, I trust him,” Korsy said. “It's all I can do... And we're not a couple, and he has a pretty small apartment and he seems more work driven than anything, so I think we're okay, but it's just that little chance that's scaring me.” “Well, you said he might not be pregnant at all,” Theo said. “So, it's like there's three ways it could go, and the majority is in favour of no baby.” “Yeah, you're right...” Korsy closed his eyes for a moment. “You're right. Thanks.” “Listen, feel free to stay over if you want,” Theo said. “There's more food, and we could watch more Mando. To keep your head off of things.” “Yeah, if it's alright... If Henderson comes back though, he probably won't want to see me.” “Don't worry about Henderson. You know, we could play Mario Kart first.” “Yeah, so you can challenge my win streak?” “Last time was a fluke.” “Sure. You're on.”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 142

Another late chapter... I’m really batting a thousand lately, seems like.

So, work has been insane, but @baelpenrose reminds me to post when I forget, thankfully. And this is SUCH a fun chapter.  I hope you all enjoy!

I dropped into a seat in Mess Hall Seven with a groan, so exhausted that I barely managed to get soup and a grilled cheese from the console.  Tyche yawned and nodded in agreement before poking at her sushi bowl idly. It was six Von-days after the last drill, and between coordinating increased training schedules for Shelters Three and Seven and helping Charly plan kink-night at the Undine, we were wiped.

“People are ungrateful,” she muttered before managing to barely balance a piece of salmon into her mouth.

I muttered something that hopefully sounded like agreement before I scooped up a bite of my soup with one wedge of sandwich, too lazy to even bother with the spoon. “Remind me why we don’t have Vati and Hannah handling the practice schedules?”

“Because they are handling the extra evacuation drills with Jokul and Arthur.”

Personally, I thought they were getting the better end of this deal, but since the raging success of their first Food Festival, it really was only fair. “And the relocations for those who need it,” I admitted. “Except mine.”

“Conor may actually strangle one of them if any of your plants don’t make it,” she pointed out, gesturing with her chopsticks for emphasis after having given up and using her fingers to eat her lunch. “Not to mention I wouldn’t wish packing with Maverick on anyone.”

“He’s letting me pack the books and textiles.” I shrugged in acceptance after taking another bite of soup-dipped sandwich.

We picked at our food in silence after that, grateful for something resembling a reprieve, before we were interrupted by a flurry of grey hair and enthusiasm landing in one of the nearby chairs with a heavy thunk. “Good afternoon, Madams Reid.”

“Hey, Jokul,” I muttered as Tyche just waggled her fingers at him. I really think I liked it better when he was trying to kill me. Right now, I might even let him do it.

“I know you are both on your meal period, but I wanted to test the waters on potentially scheduling a community activity,” he rushed out.

Tyche guarded her lunch with an almost feral aggression, having heard what happened the last time Jokul had interrupted my lunch. “That should really be something you run by Al-”

“Worthington, yes, I know,” he interrupted. “However, I know you are both quite busy and I wanted to be respectful of your time. As such, I will make this as brief as - ow!” He snatched his hand back away from the other half of my sandwich, rubbing where I had slammed my spoon down onto it.

“I have no idea where the food stealing comes from, but don’t,” I warned him.

“Rude, got it,” he nodded in a terrifying impression of Charly’s normal demeanor. “As I was saying, I recently learned a new type of game from Terra, from the Before.  It involves teamwork, and encourages creativity and escapism, and I think it would be a very good community activity - “

I surrendered to my urge to groan. “We are not doing a redux of Settlers of Cattan. Arthur stabbed someone last time.”

“I didn’t press charges…” Jokul pouted, glancing at the scar on the back of his wrist briefly. “Besides, it was only a fork. Clearly he didn’t mean it, there were four knives in arms reach counting my own.”

Tyche cocked an eyebrow at me. Seriously?

I pursed my lips and wrinkled my nose in response. Yep.

“So what game is it this time?” I asked hesitantly.

I was reward-bombarded with a grin. “It’s called Dungeons and Dragons! Somewhat like a video game, but with more people, and using writing implements and paper. Oh, and different kinds of dice, very important. One person is something of the narrator, to give the game a kind of structure, while the other players act as characters in the game… Ivan introduced me to it, and it is quite challenging with the right people.  The dungeon master - that is the narrator - has to re-evaluate the story based on the actions of the other players, but the players themselves don’t know what the dungeon master is going to do. It is very much a social diversion, and there are many classes….”

As Jokul continued to gush, he was rather oblivious to the fact that Tyche and I were stuffing our faces as quickly as possible to avoid interrupting him or laughing. We had both played when we were younger - in fact, we had been introduced to the game by our mother.  There had even been a very overwhelming pop-culture movement in our youth around the game, which further emphasized just how far out in the boonies Jokul had grown up.  As shocking as it was that he was just now discovering the game, it came at exactly zero surprise that he enjoyed it so much - it was right up his alley of interests.

About fifteen minutes and two more grilled cheeses into his retelling of the campaign he was part of, Charly and Arthur squeezed in with us, their own lunches in tow.  As seemed to be a growing trend, Arthur reached over and snagged one of my sandwiches before I could react, shoving half of it in his face.

That was apparently enough to snap Jokul out of his story. “Hey! Why didn’t you hit him?”

“His deathwish, not my problem,” I shrugged.

Around the remains of my lunch, Arthur managed to enunciate. “Told you, Noah fissed the dairy allergy.”

“Bleargh,” I gagged comically. “It’s okay, think I’m done anyway.”

Jokul’s hand swatted Arthur’s out of the way to steal the rest of my food. “As I was saying, Ivan was quite clever with his resolution to deal subdural damage to the player who was very much ruining the storyline by insisting his character was immune to magical sleep…”

“Oooooo! I love tabletops!” Charly squealed, bouncing in her seat. “What setting are you playing in right now?  My favorite was always Exalted…”

“Miss Harper, I think we are discussing different activities.” Jokul sounded supremely confused, but my heart broke a bit.

Arthur shook his head. “Maybe not Exalted, but what about Ebberron? Swordhaven, maybe?  Just tell me it isn’t Ravenloft… I know you haven’t been fucking around in a Dark Sun, but I beg you to tell me you aren’t playing Ravenloft.”

“I’m not sure what those are… Ivan introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons. There is only one setting.”

“So… Greyhawk or homebrew,” Arthur nodded. “Best place to start, get the basics down.”

Jokul’s head pivoted toward me and Tyche, squinting in annoyance. “You knew, didn’t you? And you let me prattle on…”

“You were so… happy….” I explained plaintively. “We didn’t want to ruin that for you.”

Tyche nodded. “We both remember how fun that first campaign is. And honestly? We’ve been having a kind of crappy day.  It was nice to hear someone be excited about something that isn’t work related.”

“But I came to you to discuss making it a ship activity…”

“Originally, yeah,” I shrugged. “That was maybe the first thirty seconds.  After that, you were doing what literally every tabletop roleplaying person has done since the beginning of time… telling stories about the fun, dramatic, and frankly stupid shit the people in your party are doing.”

“Says the two-foot eight halfling rogue,” Arthur scowled.

“I rolled it at random, it was fifteen years ago, get over it!” I threw my hands up dramatically. “At least I wasn’t mated to a frickin’ deity.”

Charly giggled uncontrollably while Jokul goggled at us. “Exalted is broken in all the fun ways.”

“You literally sacrificed, and I quote ‘all of your fucks to give’, for necromancy.”

“That was your idea!”

Jokul turned toward Tyche, waiting for her to say something. She just held up her hands defensively. “I was a murder monk-bunny.”

Arthur snorted. “You were the Black Rabbit of Inle….”

“Well if my wife would have just stopped dying…!”

“At least none of us were the Platinum Knight who pissed his pants every time he confronted his favored enemy,” I laughed. “He never did live that one down. Every. Single. Dragon. He would crit fail his roles.”

“Oh, please,” Arthur intoned drily. “Did I ever tell you about the time one of my players managed to make ‘Notice me, Senpai’ into the most terrifying in-universe warcry imaginable?”

Charly choked before swatting his shoulder. “Not in front of my pasta. Please.”

Jokul, however, looked both horrified and intrigued, egging Arthur on. “Barbarian whose entire clan worshipped a god named The Senpai…. Just imagine, a barbarian in a rage, bellowing ‘NOTICE ME, SENPAI!!!’ before just scything down thirty men with a broadsword.”

At this point, I was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down my face. “Please, please tell me there was a kilt and pigtails involved….”

Jokul touched his own hair, before straightening as seriously as possible. “They are warrior’s braids, Councillor.”

That was it, I couldn’t take it anymore. I just put my head down on my folded arms and waiting to either pass out from laughing so hard or from exhaustion.  A few deep breaths and a spinning head later, I managed to wipe my face on my sleeve and realized the conversation was continuing without me.  Just as I was clearing my throat to let Jokul know he should be fine to start organizing something and to send me a rough outline, Arthur dealt the final blow.

Leaning over, he whispered over my shoulder. “By the way, the barbarian’s name was Drystan of the Doki-doki tribe.”

I was proud that I managed to get up and dash into the hallway before collapsing against the wall in maniacal laughter.  I barely registered Hannah’s voice behind me asking everyone at the table if I needed medical assistance, and that did not help.

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[soyforramen]

Whoops, I slipped into a follow up of this prompt.

--

“How’s the wrist?”

Such an innocuous question. It rings flat in the sharp crags that line the chasm between them, echoing hollowly between them. But it’s still more than he’d said Saturday night. More than he thought he’d say.

Betty, never one to let any pain shine through, smiles at him. Her face morphs into that perfect Cooper mask, no crack or wrinkle to suggest anything was out of the ordinary. It pierces his soul to realize that he doesn’t know how to read her anymore.

To him, she looks just as happy and carefree as the first day they’d met in third grade.

“Still sore, but no lasting damage,” she says, rolling her wrist as proof. Even her voice is peppy and varnished to perfection. “How’s your head?”

His hand moves without thought to his forehead, his fingertips grazing the ugly red mess. Jughead jerks his head to the right, a move practiced in the mirror this morning to ensure his hair covered the welt.

“Nothing an aspirin can’t take care of,” he mutters.

He raises his coffee cup to his lips to keep from mentioning the whisky and rye he’d fallen headfirst into, a palliative cure after she’d disappeared up the stairs, leaving nothing but confusion and nadir in her wake. The lingering hangover was still a symphony of banging pots and pans along his temples, a never-ending reminder of his regret (relief?) of doing nothing.

They sip their coffee in silence, waiting for the meeting to begin. The artificial bridge he’d thrown across the chasm between them frays, its tethers loosening. In less than a minute, it’s fallen into the yawning black hole that now lies between them.

Betty's words… no. Not that. It was his inaction. His confusion. His uncertainty that created this false rift between them. The gravity of it tugging and pulling at every second between them, every atom, every conceivable future between them, each a warped, stretched snapshot of a future never to be.

It was enough to make him want to crawl back into the bottle and never come out again. His hand shakes, an aftereffect of the late night drinking, and he shoves it deep into his pocket. Betty’s eyebrows draw too close together, too close to concern for his tastes.

Toni claps her hands together, and Betty shoots him one last curious look. He refuses to look at her, turning to refill his mug. When he turns back around, Betty is in her usual seat next to Archie, a plastic smile on her face. Jughead slouches against the counter, too lost in his own morbid thoughts to pay much attention to the upcoming game to notice the increasingly concerned glances Betty sends his way.

Jughead watches as his students shuffle in, the twins he affectionately calls Bill and Ted the only two showing any trace of life. The bell rings, a clanging, offensive noise that makes everyone wince. It’s doubtful he’s the only one nursing a hangover.

“How many of you did the reading?” he asks when they settle in.

A collective groan ripples throughout the room. He can’t blame them; he’d never been able to finish The Odyssey in high school either.

“Pop quiz time,” he says.

Another groan, this time with a rousing argument against it, echoes through his already pounding head. Jughead holds his hands up in a conciliatory gesture.

“I want you to write about betrayal.”

The class quiets, some exchanging glances. It’s a sharp turn, a quick 180 that throws all off them off balance. Jughead has been ruthless so far, both in his grading and in his push to get them to learn critical thinking skills. Even he’s surprised at this course of action.

“Any kind of betrayal you can think of. You can talk about personal betrayal, family betrayal. Maybe one of your friends kissed your girlfriend, or maybe your mother chose your sister’s side over yours. Or maybe you write about a fictional betrayal. Hamlet and Ophelia, Brutus and Julius Caesar, Edward Pensieve and the Turkish delight.”

Wynnie’s hand shoots up, and Jughead inwardly winces. She’s always been the one to push back against any assignment, the one who questions everything he expects from them and makes class ten times longer.

“Can we write about a made up betrayal? With characters on, like, TV or something?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, he nods. “Anything is fair game, as long as you write it in a way that someone not familiar with the show, or book, or whatever, can understand what’s going on.”

“What about poetry?” another student asks.

“So long as you put the effort in, poetry is fine. Text threads, short stories, poems, letters, anything written.”

“Can we work together?” one of the twins asks.

“Sure, as long as you don’t bother the other students,” Jughead says with a shrug.

Bill and Ted high five before dragging their desks together.

Jughead is surprised at how well they’re taking this assignment. Every last thing has been a fight with them, from getting their attention to taking a test. Betrayal, though, seems to be something everyone can relate to.

As the class begins to write, Jughead sits down at his own desk. For a moment, he watches his students, kids in the same position he was once in, and wonders why he’s even here. Riverdale offered him little more than characters he could mold into his own, a setting for the decline of small town America.

Today, though, his mind wanders along words and phrases, glimpses into a different sort of reality. One ravaged by decay and rot, left to perish alone. And yet, he can’t help but see the small, green shoots of the future poke out of the ashes, tiny hints of hope for what’s to come. Perhaps nothing is ever static and unchanging. Perhaps things can turn around.

Jughead reaches into his bag for his own blank notebook.

He’s sitting on the porch that afternoon, struggling with the illegibly written translation. It’s a shame the state requires them to teach only the recommended books; Jughead would love to see how the story unfolds when thrown onto a fire.

“Hey.”

Jughead starts. When he sees it’s only Betty (only?), he stands abruptly, his entire body on fire, his legs jittery and ready to run.

“Hey,” he repeats. “Archie’s not here, but –“

Betty shakes her head and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Can we talk?”

He swallows. Stupid of him to think he’d get away from this conversation. Jughead waves to the chair next to him. As Betty passes, her perfume tickles his nose. Long gone is the strawberry body spray she used in high school, a sweet, cloying smell. Now it’s a perfume, one that tickles his nose and clogs his sinuses.

They sit there quietly, neither willing to speak first. He’s lost for words, unable to start.

She sits patiently, calmly. Betty seems as if she hasn’t a care in the world, as if they were there to talk about the weather. Part of her training, he realizes. She’s no longer as impulsive as she once was, reaching and grasping and desperate for an immediate answer. This Betty Cooper is a reminder of the past, but only that.

“I’m sorry,” he manages, starting with the simplest of things.

Next to him, Betty shifts. He thinks he hears her sniffle (crying? allergies? derision at his lame start?), and he has to quash his immediately reaction. All he wants to do is reach out to her, to comfort her, to promise her the world to keep her from suffering.

But he’d done that before, long ago, in a completely different world. And he’d been trod upon, brushed aside in favor of her own cruel form of betrayal. Nothing he could have done after would have fixed the wound she’d carved in his soul. Even now, seven years distanced from the teenage woes, it lay between them, still raw and sore and bleeding from the continued betrayals of his life.

He wonders how he would have responded to her if he hadn’t known. If he hadn’t come home one night early to hear her and Archie upstairs. If he hadn’t turned to the Wyrm and listened to Sweet Peas acidic sniping just to get lost among the agave pinas and the juniper berries.

“It’s not,” he stutters, trying to find his footing, unsure of what he wants to say. “I couldn’t stop loving the Betty Cooper I knew. But I also never stopped hating what she did to me.”

The admission is the first emotionally honest thing he’s said in years. It’s painful to realize how deep it lay inside him, how long it took to finally cut out this festering, putrid thing that burrowed into him. Like a tumor, it could only grow, fed by hate and anger and depression. Hate and anger for both of them. It hadn’t turned out like it was supposed to.

Now that it lay out in the open between them, he felt different. Heavier, in some ways. But there was also a release. The pressure that had been building for so long was slowly lowering, as if he’d finally found the valve that would bring things back to normal.

“And I don’t know you,” he said, the words pouring out now. “Seven years, and only a handful of texts, a few voicemails. You’re not the person I remember. Hell, everyone is different from who they were, who I thought they were.”

He pauses to run a hand through his hair. He can feel Betty’s bright eyes staring at him, pleading with him for something, anything, that will make this better.

“We’re both different now, and there’s no way you can still love me. You don’t know me, you know who I was. We can’t just pick up where we left off, even if we wanted to. There’s too much between… Even if we were stupid enough to try,” he trails off, his words meandering as they try to find footing in the rocky space between them.

“We didn’t leave things in a good place,” Betty murmurs in agreement.

She shifts, and he looks at her for the first time since they sat down. Her legs are tucked up against her body, arms wrapped around them. It’s a protective stance. Against him, perhaps, or against the bare truth that he’s put in the open. He can’t blame her, not since he’s protected himself against most of his own life in other, less healthy ways.

Jughead sighs, empty of anything else to say. He stares at the fading light glowing through the leaves. It’s the perfect, picturesque scene of two high school sweethearts reuniting. At least, it was supposed to be. He didn’t know if he ever could do that to himself again.

Archie’s old truck chugs up the street, and Jughead stands. He scrapes the palms of his free hand along his pants, the other hand gripping his book. Archie waves through the windshield with a bright grin, and Jughead gives a half-hearted wave back before going inside.

He’s exhausted; after being mad for so long, it’s strange to be so empty of feeling. He’d give the world to be able to retreat back to Alphabet City and it’s various loan sharks. There, at least, he’d know the pain was no one’s fault but his own.

Jughead closes the bedroom door behind him, shutting out the rest of the world. It wasn’t his business what Betty did despite her attempts to bring him back into her life. He didn’t know if he was ready for that, or if he’d ever be. Ever since he’d been back, her presence gnaws at him, chipping away at the walls he’d built up over the years against her presence, and it frightens him that she’s stepped back into his thoughts so quickly and easily.

Thoughts and ideas collide and churn violently in his head. He throws himself down on his bed, determined to fall asleep despite the chaos.

But this time, sleep doesn’t come as easily as it always has. Words and feelings and phrases splatter against the back of his eyelids, graffiti tattooing images of a world never known. He pushes back against the cacophony until he can stand it no longer. Desperate to empty his thoughts, Jughead turns on the bedside lamp, pulls his laptop out from under the bed, and begins to write more than he’s been able to for years.

[yespolkadotkitty]

Make Your Move

Jesus. Okay, well....

Warnings: Smut. Threesome (m/m/f), but possibly the sweetest, most vanilla threesome you will ever read. A big long love letter to the best soft boy ever, Marcus Pike, with Zach thrown in because I love him.

I dedicate this fic to @beccaplaying - thank you for the beta and the details about the US consulate. The idea was hers originally. Thankyou also to @songsformonkeys , @hopelessromanticspoonie , @just-the-hiddles and @lannister-slings-and-arrows for encouragement, screaming, advice and hand-holding.

“Plans tonight?”

You look up from your scintillating choice of fruit juice with a label in Mandarin or some unknown juice with a label in Mandarin (but the picture has a smiley face, which makes it seem better, perhaps?). Marcus Pike stood beside you, his hair damp with sweat, his US Consulate rugby team shirt stuck to his chest with perspiration, deep breaths drawing your attention to his broad chest. 

“Nothing really. Netflix and chill - alone.”

Marcus selects the juice with the happy face.

“What is that?” you ask.

“Hell if I know. It’s nice, though.”

You choose the fruit - better safe than sorry - and join him in the queue. The Western grocery store a block away has most things you recognise from home, along with a few random items like the happy face juice, to keep you on your toes. You also once brought a packet of “fish strips” home - never again. Your mouth had never felt so dry, but also so sour.

“You wanna hang out?” Marcus asks, one hand holding his juice, the other propped on his hip in his habitual “thinking” stance. You’ve seen it many times. Every time it makes you think about putting your own hand there. And other places on his body.

Marcus is the nicest guy you’ve ever known. Friendly, polite, fair to a fault. You’ve been friends for a year and you learned that he accepted this Consulate posting after a bad break-up. Who had jilted him, you didn’t know, but you’d like to punch her in the face for turning down someone like Marcus Pike - a pure ray of sunshine wrapped up in an earnest smile, a big heart, and all that tanned, golden skin.

“Sure,” you say as the line moves forward. Ahead of you, a bead of sweat runs down the back of Marcus’s neck and into the collar of his rugby shirt. He smells of his habitual vanilla and black pepper cologne and you inhale greedily.

“Oh, do you have a cold?” he asks.

Shit. “No… allergies.”

He narrows his eyes for a second. “Okay. So, a movie, maybe? I might see what Zach’s doing if that’s all right?”

Zach Wellison, an active duty Marine on the Consulate Rugby team. Why no one had ever thought of pitching the idea of a US Consulate Rugby team nude calendar, you had no clue. Golden-skinned like Marcus, with similar bottomless brown eyes, Zach was scruffier, a more sarcastic and prickly version of Marcus. You’d hung out a few times, usually with Marcus too, and he’s made you laugh until your sides hurt when he pokes holes in your favourite trashy TV shows. You reckon he secretly loves them too, especially The Great British Bake Off.

“‘Course. The more the merrier. I’ll ask some friends over, too?”

Marcus nods. “Seven? I’ll bring the pizza?”

“It’s a date,” you say automatically, then turn away to hide the ridiculous blush that creeps up your neck. Marcus is busy paying for his juice and doesn’t notice. He waves to you as he leaves the store and you take your turn at the counter.

The clerk grins at you. “He’s something, huh.”

“Sure is,” you agree, biting back the sadness that he isn’t your something, and he probably never will be. Yeah, he’s really nice to you, but nice is Marcus’ default setting. It means nothing.

You take your juice and go home to panic-clean before your visitors come over later.

*******

You invite two of your girlfriends over from the Consulate admin and statistics team, but they’ve got other plans, so you’re alone when you open the door to Marcus and Zach. Marcus holds three giant pizza boxes and Zach carts a crate of beer.

Your brows wing up. “I did tell you that it was just me…?”

“Never too much pizza, though?” Marcus smiles, bending to kiss your cheek. He’s freshly showered, his hair curling damply, his cheeks smooth, and he wears a plain grey t-shirt over jeans that hug his ass beautifully.

“Or too much beer,” Zach chimes in, setting the mini crate on your coffee table. Marcus moves to do the same with the pizza and Zach bends to buss your cheek, his facial scruff tickling, his hair flopping into his eyes. He wears a plaid shirt, yellow and grey, over a navy t-shirt, and his jeans are looser than Marcus’.

“So, what are we watching?” you ask, flopping down on your sofa. All the Consulate apartments are identikit here but you’ve tried to make personal touches to yours, so it feels like home for the duration of your posting.

Perfectly at home in your place, Marcus scoops up the remote and scrolls to Netflix. “Hmmmm…. There is a game on though,” he says, and you see Zach perk up.

“If you want to watch sports,” you say as if Marcus had suggested watching cannibals discuss how to cook babies, “You can take your portion of pizza and leave.”

The men exchange a look and Zach shrugs. “Movie, then?” He settles down on the sofa next to you as Marcus scrolls.

“All right. It looks as if our choices are smash and grab heist movie, no-plot, no-problem action film, borderline porn, or subtitled arthouse flick.”

“Action,” you and Zach said at the same time, as Zach reaches for a slice of pizza. Your sofa is not big, and his thigh rests next to yours. Your thin dress means you feel the heat coming off his body.

“No arthouse? Marcus asks, fixing those big brown eyes on you.

You open the second pizza box to reveal a bbq meat feast - your favourite. “Impossible to eat pizza and read subtitles at the same time, Pike.”

“She has a point,” Zach agrees, speaking through a mouthful of stuffed crust.

“All right, all right.” Marcus throws up a hand in defeat and selects something called Crocodile Dundee 3: Croc Harder, which shows Dwayne Johnson riding the back of a giant crocodile on top of a volcano. “I tried to lift our average intelligence, just remember that later.”

Zach gestures at the coffee table littered with pizza and beer. “Um… read the room?”

You laugh, chewing your slice of pizza, the bbq sauce tangy on your tongue. Zach cracks open a beer as Marcus drops down on the sofa on the other side of you, and now you’re sandwiched by two insanely good looking guys, one of whom you’ve been attracted to for well over a year now.

Marcus makes a mmm noise as he opens the third box of pizza, double pepperoni, and you watch his hands, wide palms, long fingers, as he peels off a slice.

On screen, Dwayne’s forgettably-named character checks the cartridge of a machine gun.

“He’d shoot himself in the face doing that,” Zach says after a swig of beer.

“For sure,” Marcus agrees. “Unsafe.”

You roll your eyes. 

Marcus notices and elbows you. “You both picked the action flick,” he mutters, but his tone is teasing and a smile ghosts around his lips.

The film continues with some explosions early on and a token geeky scientist character with a clipboard. You huff. “We do not carry clipboards everywhere.”

“Uh huh,” Zach and Marcus say in sync.

You sigh and eat more pizza.

An hour later, at least half of all the pizza Marcus brought over is gone. You’re three beers in, feeling pretty happy and relaxed. At some point you’ve leaned back against Zach and now your feet are in Marcus’ lap.

Zach groans. “Why the fuck didn’t he just ride the giant crocodile over the lava in the first place?” He sits up, adjusting you so you don’t topple backwards. “Be right back; bathroom break.”

You pause the film. Marcus smiles over at you. “You’re sweet to pause it like there’s an actual plot that he’ll miss a key point of.”

You snort, returning his smile. “Yeah, you’ve got a point there. Thanks for this. I was planning on spending the evening alone, but this is much nicer.” You go to pull your feet from his lap, but he wraps a hand around your ankle, squeezing gently. 

“Are you okay?”

You hesitate. You’ve dallied for a year about telling Marcus you think you love him, that your hand all too often hovers over his email address in your address book when you’re in work, that far too frequently, your mind wanders to him when you slide your fingers into your underwear at night. Now is hardly the time, with Zach using your bathroom just a door away.

“I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” he drawls.

“Really.”

Marcus turns more fully to face you. “Sweetheart. Give me some credit. I’m divorced but it isn’t because I was one of those guys who accepted the I’m fine answer at face value.”

You sigh and this time you do draw your legs off his lap. “I think I’m drunk. I need some water.” You stand up and cross to the kitchenette, and Marcus follows you on socked feet. The water runs and you feel a bit woozy, stumbling when you reach up to get a glass.

He steadies you with a hand on your back as you retrieve the glass; fill it with bottled water, and return the bottle to the fridge under the counter. The silence in your apartment is suddenly deafening as you sip the water, then hold the glass to Marcus’ lips.

He sips, his gaze on yours, then takes the glass from you, setting it down.

“Should I not have invited Zach?” he whispers, bending slightly. He’s so close that you can see the amber edging the gorgeous chocolate brown of his irises. He smells of vanilla and black pepper, heady, sweet, intoxicating. 

“Marcus…”

His mouth brushes yours, butterfly-wings soft, and he tastes of pepperoni and just an edge of citrusy beer, and you open for him, sliding your hands up his chest, firm beneath his soft-worn t-shirt. He licks into your mouth, and you sigh, almost three hundred and sixty five days worth of want unfurling inside you, a surge of lust rising up your body like a tidal wave.

“So, I - oh, man. Sorry.”

You and Marcus jerk apart at the sight of Zach standing in the doorway. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, looking sheepish. 

“I…. didn’t know you were together.”

“We weren’t,” Marcus says, aiming a hopeful smile at you.

“I….. shall we finish the film?”

The boys nod and you all troop back to the sofa. You glance at the leftover pizza and shut the box.

Marcus takes the right side of you this time, tugging you into him so you sit with your back to his shoulder. You fidget with your legs until Zach chuckles and sets his feet in your lap, and it’s very comfy. On screen, Dwayne fights a half-crocodile half-lava monster with a tree he tore from the ground. 

The beer you drank has begun to make you feel warm; languid. You want to kiss Marcus again. 

You feel Marcus shift beside you. His breath fans the back of your neck for a moment, making the little hairs there stand on end. You shiver a little, pressing your feet unintentionally into Zach’s lap. He doesn’t seem to notice.

Marcus starts pressing little kisses to the nape of your neck. Your stomach clenches at the feeling. You’d never dared to dream about being in this situation with gorgeous, kind, smart, funny Marcus Pike, and now you were - and another guy had come along for the ride.

When Marcus uses his teeth just a little, you curl your toes, involuntarily, and then stop breathing when you hear a little groan from Zach. You glance over and he’s watching Marcus nibbling on your neck, and you realise that the...topography of where you have your feet has changed.

“Oh, Zach-” you make to withdraw your feet, but Zach simply rubs circles on your bare ankles with his thumbs.

“You’re good,” he murmurs, and you think: oh.

On screen, Dwayne is hefting a bikini-clad woman in one hand and a crocodile in the other, yelling for confused passersby to get out of the way, but your attention is split between Zach’s gun-callused hands on your ankles and Marcus’ mouth on your neck. Zach has a little spiral tattoo on his left hand and you gaze at it as his hands massage you. How have you never noticed what great hands he has?

“Is this.. Okay?” Marcus whispers against your skin.

You don’t know what to say, but you only know that if either of them stop then it will be very bad, so you nod, wordlessly.

Marcus changes position so he’s caging you, your back to his front. He has easier access to your neck this way, and when his hands wrap around your waist you sigh and relax into him, sliding your hands over his, tangling your fingers. His palms are so warm through your dress and you sigh his name. 

Zach’s hand slides up your bare leg, and you sneak a glance at his face. He’s looking down at your feet in his lap. His jeans are very obviously moulded around an erection, but he looks blissed out, sort of surprised.

You think all three of you are sort of surprised by the turn of events, but there’s been plenty of beer and you’re pleasantly full, and you’ve never been this close to two guys this freaking hot.

Experimentally you stroke your toes over Zach’s lap and a low groan escapes his lips. He lets his head fall back, eyes drifting closed.

Marcus reaches out a hand and mutes the tv, then returns to cuddling you. His breaths stroke over your skin as one hand sweeps up your ribs to cup your breast. Only your dress and a flimsy lace bra separate his hand from your skin and your heart beats a ragged tattoo of want and need.

Breathing your name, Marcus’ busy fingers begin slipping the buttons of your sundress through their eyelets, one at a time, agonisingly slowly. His chin rests on your shoulder as he works diligently, knuckles brushing each inch of newly exposed skin.

“Dreamed of this,” he whispers into your neck.

Your heart skips a beat. “Really?”

“Most nights for the last six months, actually,” he murmurs, and you can hear the chagrin in his voice, the tiny chink of missing armour there.

“He’s not lying,” Zach mutters. “You’ve got it bad, man.”

You scoff, but your reply is cut off when Marcus flicks open the front clasp of your bra and his hand covers your naked flesh. His skin is just a little rough, his touch warm and tender, and you let your eyes close, surrendering to the bliss. 

Distantly you hear the sound of a zipper being lowered but you don’t open your eyes, caught in a soft, welcoming web of touch and warmth and syrupy desire. 

Marcus rubs his thumb across your nipple, over and over, and the little tingles shoot straight down to your core. At your back, he shifts, and you moan at the press of him, hot and heavy, against your butt. “Marcus.”

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he rasps in that deliciously husky-edged baritone.

“More,” you plead, and you lean forward so he can drop the parted material of the dress down your shoulders. As the fabric slides down your arms, you look over at Zach. His head rests back on the top of the sofa, eyes half closed as he watches you and Marcus, the position revealing the scruff hugging his jaw and the long line of his neck. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. With one hand he rubs those maddeningly soft circles on your ankle. His other hand rests in the open vee of the fly of his jeans, and you drink in the sight of his cock peeking out.

He sees you watching and smiles, a little shyly. You know he was a marine but the sight of this slight bashfulness endears you to him. Makes the thought of touching him add to the fire in your belly.

Zach’s gaze flicks to you, a question in his honey-bourbon eyes. This is the moment, you think, where you could send him away and turn into Marcus’ arms, lose yourself in him alone.

Or. Or.

“What do you want?” Zach asks huskily. 

Marcus looks up from where he’s kissing the curve where your neck and shoulder meet. “You’re calling the shots here, sweetheart.”

You hesitate, but Marcus’s hands and mouth feel so good on you and you really don’t want to stop looking at Zach almost-stroking himself.

“Stay,” you breathe. “Both of you.”

Maybe it’s the beer talking - well, let’s honest, some of it is certainly fuelled by the beer, but you want this. You’d trust Marcus with your life, and from what you know of Zach, he might’ve been in one of the most elite military units but he’d never use his strength or skills against you.

Marcus hmmmmms contentedly in his throat and resumes his gentle kisses along your skin, his lips soft and warm as his hands work your breasts. Your dress is pooled around your waist and you watch through half-lidded eyes as Zach uses one hand to caress your leg and the other to touch himself.

“I want...” you hear yourself say haltingly, “I want to touch one of you.” You’re suspended in the middle here, you can’t quite reach Zach, and Marcus is behind you.

Marcus lifts his head and you see him and Zach exchange some sort of silent message. Zach gently lifts your feet off his lap and spreads your legs so he can crawl between them, and you watch his handsome, tanned face as he arranges the three of you so his and Marcus’ legs have somewhere to go - they’re both so long-legged - and then he cups your face in one hand and kisses you, hot and urgent and impatient, so different from Marcus’ sweet gentleness, but a change of pace that has you moaning for more. You lick into Zach’s mouth and, bolder, slide a hand down his body to where he’s peeking out from his jeans.

You feel Marcus’ gaze on you both as you palm Zach. He’s warm and smooth and the weight of him in your hands makes your internal muscles clench. He bites off a stifled moan of pleasure against your lips as you stroke him, pushing the waist of his jeans down so you can reach every bit of him. Feeling him pulse in your fingers sends a spear of wetness into your core. You murmur his name and he bucks into your hands.

Marcus makes a sound of strangled desire behind you and you feel his hand work its way down your body, under your parted dress and into your underwear. At the first touch of his fingers on your damp flesh, a rush of pleasure dizzies you.

You give yourself in to Zach’s kiss as Marcus finds a rhythm that makes you buck your hips into his fingers. Your body is aflame with sensation and you feel Marcus smile against your neck as he shifts positions, keeping his thumb on your clit and easing one, then two, fingers inside you.The noises his movements make are obscene, loud in the otherwise quiet room with the TV muted. 

Zach breaks the kiss for a moment to shove his jeans, underwear and socks off, and you reach out to push his plaid shirt off his shoulders and tug his t-shirt over his head. His hair is mussed and his eyes are soft, and he looks up at Marcus and says “lie down.”

It takes a moment for you all to shift, but your sofa manages to accommodate it. You lie back on Marcus, your back on his chest, and Zach settles down to cage you in, dipping his head to give your breasts some attention. His facial scruff tickles, adding layers of sensation. Between Marcus’ hand down your knickers and Zach’s mouth on you, you’re drowning, and you never want to come up for air. You squirm under the delicious attention. Marcus scrapes his teeth along a sensitive place on your neck just as Zach gently bites down on one nipple, and Marcus’ fingers curl up inside you and it’s a tidal wave of bliss, and you come with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

As you come down from the high, your inner muscles trembling, you turn to kiss Marcus’ mouth, drinking in his taste. His lips are soft and sweet and he strokes you down from your orgasm until you stay his hand, quivering from over-sensitivity. 

“Not that we’re not both well accustomed to difficult terrain,” Zach murmurs against your skin, “but do you think we could move this party to the bed?”

“No pressure,” Marcus adds, and you know that if you say no right now, they’ll leave and there’ll be no hard feelings, because they’re good men.

“Bed,” you decide, and Zach grins and scoops you up in his arms. 

Marcus leads the way to your bedroom - he’s never been there before, but your apartment is a mirror of his - and you’re glad you took five minutes to turn the covers down, neaten it a little.

The only light comes from the gaps between the window blinds. The evening sunlight, still golden in the summer months, streams in, painting Zach’s naked body in dusky amber. He and Marcus undress you together, Marcus sliding your bra off and Zach kneeling to gather your dress and underwear, tossing them aside before both men glance at each other and again, in secret-military-bro-code agreement, carry you to the bed, Zach holding your legs, Marcus’ hands under your arms.

When they set you down, you tug Marcus in for another kiss, licking into his mouth, carding your fingers through his short, thick hair. “Too many clothes on you, Pike,” you murmur against his lips, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt. He chuckles and obliges you. On the other side of you, on the big bed, Zach seems content to lie on his side, head propped up on his elbow, lazily stroking himself.

You roll to sit up and start unbuckling Marcus’ belt, eager to see more of his smooth, golden skin. He pulls you in for another meltingly tender kiss as you ease the leather through the belt loops of his jeans, shove the denim down his thighs. He isn’t wearing boxers and you break the kiss to grin up at him. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a commando guy, Marcus.”

“No? Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he teases.

“Don’t ask him about his band,” Zach deadpans from behind you.

Marcus rolls his eyes and bends to take off his pooled jeans and socks. You cup his chin when he finishes, push him back to standing. “Oh, don’t worry,” you say to Zach while holding Marcus’ steady brown gaze, “I have much better things to do with my mouth.”

And you settle one hand on Marcus’ hip and savour the little hiss of pleasure you draw from him when you take him into your mouth.

He immediately covers your hand with his, tangling your fingers. Marcus loves holding hands, you’re learning. You use your other hand to hold the thick base of him, tightening your grip and he moves his hips just a little, almost helplessly, and the unspoken power you now wield over him makes your heart bump and your cunt wetter.

Zach makes a noise behind you and a moment later you feel him settle at your back, and his hands are where Marcus’ were just minutes ago, exploring you, learning what makes your muscles clench, what makes you moan around Marcus’ cock.

“Just like that, baby,” Zach murmurs, brushing his facial scruff over your neck, and you shiver, your teeth scraping on Marcus a little, and he groans your name, exercising extreme restraint in not fucking your face.

You wiggle forward as Zack slips a finger inside you, your tongue lapping at Marcus and learning his flavour and texture. Zack is hard and ready against the small of your back, but he finger-fucks you unhurriedly, seeming to delight in your sighs and breathy gasps.

"Oh, fuck…." Marcus breathes out, jerking on your tongue, and you tighten your fist, tongue flat on the underside of the swollen head of him, using your hand to stroke him almost roughly.

Marcus growls your name, a warning, but you squeeze his fingers, telling him it's okay.

As he covers your tongue, Zach presses down hard on your clit and you see stars, your body a livewire between the two men.

You lick Marcus through the tremors of his orgasm and he cups your chin as he pulls out, bending to search your gaze, checking you’re okay. His own face is relaxed; blissed out, his soulful brown eyes dark and soft. 

He kisses you tenderly on the lips, and you think you could drown in him; his considerate kindness, his easy friendliness, his sheer beauty, inside and out. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against your lips, and if you have anything to say about it, tonight will not be the last time you see him naked.

Zach nips at your earlobe and you turn to him. “Poor baby. We’ve been neglecting you.” You glance back at Marcus. “Haven’t we?”

“He’s been a trooper,” Marcus agrees. 

You capture Zach’s mouth in a kiss, and he eagerly licks into your mouth. You taste of Marcus, but he seems to like it. When your lips part, you ask, “what do you want?”

“I want to be inside you,” he says simply, his face earnest and open, and he looks at Marcus halfway through the sentence. Warmth curls around your heart at the way Zach knows you and Marcus have a thing; he doesn’t want to get in the way of that. 

You look between the two hottest guys you’ve ever been with and smile. “Marcus and I will have plenty of time. Right?”

“Right,” Marcus agrees happily, that blissed out look still stamped on his handsome face. He drops into the chair next to your bed. 

You turn in Zach’s embrace and he cuddles you close, kissing you deeply, his scruff tickling. He tucks you into his body and then rolls you across the bed. You land on your back and he cages you in, sliding between your legs, and you open eagerly. His body is lean, toned, and you smooth your palms over his broad back greedily, touching all that warm, tanned skin. “Fuck,” he mutters.

“Condom?” Marcus asks from the chair. He’s laying back, legs spread lazily, the amber evening light from the window kissing his physique, comfortable in his nakedness, and your gaze eats him up, knowing he’ll be yours for many nights after this. He reaches down into his jeans pocket, fishes out a little foil square and tosses it to Zach.

“Thanks, man.”

You nip it from Zach’s hand, push him on to his back. He arches his back as you roll the condom on slowly, enjoying the muscle ticking in his jaw.

Marcus’ gaze is dark and hot as you catch his eye from across the room, swinging a leg over Zach and slowly sheathing him. You both groan when he finally bottoms out, and he settles his hands on your hips.

“Beautiful, honey,” he mutters in that voice made for sin, and you brace your hands on his chest and set a lazy pace. Zach brings his legs up at the knees, changing the angle, hitting an absolutely fantastic spot inside you, and you move faster, chasing another high like the two he and Marcus have given you. You hold Zach’s dark amber gaze, watch him bite his lip as he bucks up into you, close to orgasm.

His left hand comes to play where your bodies are joined, and you watch the little tattoo on his skin flex as he touches you, pushing you over that sweet cliff edge. Your muscles flutter around him and his eyes close as he comes hard, your name falling from his lips like a prayer, or a supplication to whatever God is listening. You ride him through it, until his hips stutter and he holds you still, panting.

You check up on Marcus. He’s watching lazily, his brown eyes drinking you in, and you crook your finger in invitation. As he crosses the room, you roll off Zach. He drops a kiss on your lips and heads for the bathroom.

Marcus drops on to the bed and opens his arms. You snuggle in, breathing in his scent; black pepper and vanilla, and it’s heady. The room smells of sex, and you and him and Zach, and your body is relaxed and soft.

“That was… unexpected,” Marcus murmurs into your hair.

You snort. “Yeah. I guess we all had Netflix and chill, huh.”

Marcus coughs out a laugh.

Zach appears in the doorway, holding the clothes he retrieved from the sofa. “I think I’ll make a move. I had fun.” He looks happy, tired, the edges of his eyes crinkling, his hair mussed. “See you at work, Pike.”

You sit up and smile at him. You doubt you’ll ever kiss him again, but you’ll remember tonight as long as you live. “Take care, Zach. See you around.” You blow him a kiss; he catches it with a soft laugh.

You hear shuffling and then he calls out, “I’m taking one of the pizzas!” before your door bangs shut, and you and Marcus are alone.

You snuggle in tight. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Marcus drawls, and oh, you could listen to his voice forever, that husky-edge baritone that has lived in your dreams for so long.

You smile against his skin; feel his heart beating under your ear. “I was thinking that…. This wasn’t how I’d planned to tell you that I really like you.”

“Oh you really like me, do you? I had an inkling around the time you started going down on me,” Marcus deadpans.

You laugh, mock-punch him. “Shut up, Pike.”

“Seriously though. That was hot as hell. Thank you,” he says softly, tilting your chin up for a kiss. 

“Will you stay?” you gaze into his soulful, bottomless chocolate brown eyes.

“I’d love that. Plus, we still have to find out what happened in that movie, right? And we’ve got leftover pizza. Can’t leave it.”

You sigh happily. Marcus is stroking your hair and you’re wrapped around him; you don’t want to move for anything. “In a little while. I’m so happy you asked if I wanted to hang out. For future reference; the answer is always yes.”

He cuddles you closer, if that’s possible. “I like to think I’d have made a move. Soon. It’s just….” He trails off, and you can hear the edge of hurt in his tone, the hint of uncertainty. Coming from a man like Marcus, who is everything right and good in the world, it is impossibly sad.

“I know,” you soothe. His bad break-up, when a fellow agent accepted his marriage proposal and then left him for another man, and before that, his divorce. “You’re worth waiting for, Marcus. You’re everything, and I intend to show you that as often as you’ll let me. For the record, I cannot understand why Teresa left you like that, but I should be shaking her hand. If not for her, I wouldn’t be here. And I am very, very happy right now.”

“Sweetheart,” Marcus sighs. He shuffles over, pulls the covers over you both, closes his eyes. 

“By the way….” you start.

“Hmmm?” His voice is slurred with the edge of slumber.

“What was your band called?”

But your only reply is a soft snore. You chuckled. Marcus is warm and solid and yours, and everything in you settles, content.

And you both sleep.

****

Tagging: @alldatalost​ @pajamasecrets​ @cryptkeepersoul​ @agirllovespasta​ @agentpike​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @abuttoncalledsmalls​ @summersong69​ @ly--canthrope​ @opheliaelysia​ @restingnurseface​ @littlemissthistle​ @apples-of-february​ @dinispunk​ @mrsparknuts​ @knittingqueen13​ @gamingaquarius​ @winters-buck @queenofheaven​ @dornish-queen​ @buckstaposition​ @starlight-starwrites​

Please ask to be added to or released from tags and I am sorry if I forgot you, I’m shit at tags but I love you all.

[argylemnwrites]

Settled

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield); Roomies (+ Bryce and Rafael) friendship also featured

Book: Open Heart (~5 weeks post book 2)

Word Count: ~1400

Rating: PG-13 (rare language)

Summary: A long standing bet is about to be settled.

Author’s Note: Inspiration for this piece comes from a real experience in my undergrad dorm. It also works as a loose follow up to my pieces “Enough” and “Some Definition.” Also written for Day 28 of the @choicesfebchallenge - Closure.

Bryce felt his eyes getting heavy in spite of the early hour and the movie playing across the room. He had just come off a night float block, serving both as the senior resident overnight for the three gen surg wards and completing any ED surgical consults that came in from 5 pm to 7 am. Even though he’d only had to work 18 shifts over the past 28 days, each shift had been frantic, often with barely enough down time to inhale a sandwich. On top of that, he’d basically hadn’t gotten a chance to see the inside of the OR at all. The senior carrying the trauma pager usually got all the overnight cases, since there weren’t many non-traumas that went to the OR in the middle of the night. For the few remaining cases, unless it was a particularly complex case, the attendings usually prioritized letting the interns covering the wards overnight gain some experience. As an intern, Bryce had loved that culture in Edenbrook, but now that he was on the other side, he felt a bit jealous, even if he knew it wasn’t fair.

He was just kind of burnt out, if he had to put a label on things. He’d felt more like an internal med resident for most of the block, something Cassie had teased him about endlessly. But he just didn’t find the work as rewarding as actually operating, the shifts were exhausting, and now, almost a full week off of that block, he was still working to adjust his sleep schedule back to days. Hence him falling asleep in the middle of an action movie at Cassie’s with her roommates and Raf at 6 pm.

“Is he out?” he heard Sienna hiss out, obviously whispering in case he was asleep, forgetting that fact that her voice was far quieter than the explosions currently happening on screen.

“No, he’s not,” Bryce whispered back, drawing a chuckle and a little elbow nudge from Cassie. He dragged his eyes back open to find her turned to face him on the sectional, so he gave her a little grin before he dropped his head to her shoulder and closed his eyes again. “But he might be soon.”

“Seriously?” asked Raf, his voice drifting up from the floor where he and Aurora were lounging in front of the coffee table. “I didn’t think you’d be one to sleep through the latest Tommy Phelps blockbuster.”

“Lahela is a little baby who is still whining about the fact that he was on nights a week ago.” Jackie’s voice was the next one to fill the room. “Or maybe he has the right idea and is done with this dumb garbage. Why did I get up early for this again?”

“Because we only have one year left where we are all going to be in Boston for sure, and times where we are all off for a movie are rare!” Sienna cried out. Bryce felt Cassie shift slightly, presumably reaching over to hold Sienna’s hand or rub her back, but she didn’t move so much that his head was more than slightly jostled on her shoulder.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we had to watch this. Elijah, you don’t get to pick for movie night ever again.” Jackie added.

“Hey, I know my selections aren’t always the most popular, but this wasn’t me!”

“Alright, then who is responsi-”

“It was my pick,” said Aurora. Bryce squinted an eye open at that, glancing down to Aurora, who had twisted around to face Jackie. “What can I say? Sometimes I just need to turn my brain off and watch some shlock.”

“It’s better with a beer,” Raf said with a shrug, before lifting his bottle to his lips and taking a drink. 

“Well, I have to head in for a shift in a couple of hours, so that’s not an option for me,” Jackie said, “so I might have to take a page out of Bryce’s book and just nap.”

Bryce swung his foot towards her as he let his eyes close again, nudging her shin. “Shut up, Varma.”

“What? I’m not mocking you.”

“Sure.”

“I mean, there is plenty for me to mock you for always, but right now I’m not. Avoiding this movie and using Cassie as a pillow is one of your smarter choices.”

“I’m not using her as a human pillow. This is just part of boyfriend privileges, right Cass?”

“Absolutely,” Cassie said, but the room got suddenly very quiet as the explosions and gunfire came to an abrupt halt.

“Why’d you pause the movie?” asked Cassie, but no one answered her. Instead, Aurora asked a different question.

“Elijah, you still got the calendar?”

“Yup, lemme pull it up. I’m pretty sure everyone’s date has already passed, though.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

The room was silent for a few moments, so Bryce opened his eyes and dragged his head off of Cassie’s shoulder, glancing around the room and taking in everyone aggressively avoiding eye contact with him and Cassie. “Seriously, what’s going on?” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s not that bid a deal,” Jackie said with an eye roll. “We had a bet on when you guys would officially be together.”

It took Bryce a couple of seconds to process what she’d said. “Wait, seriously?” he asked with a chuckle.

“It was Elijah’s who organized it,” said Raf, earning him a pillow in the face from Elijah.

“Hey, man!”

“What, it’s the truth?”

“When did you guys start this?” Cassie asked. She was twisting her fingers over each other in her lap, so Bryce slid his right hand in between hers, tugging her left hand over into his lap.

“Elijah took my bet the day after the Hopeful Hearts Gala,” said Aurora, “and I think I was the first one to pick a date. After Elijah, obviously.”

“Wait, this has been going on for months?” Bryce asked.

“Well, you two have been all over each other for years,” said Jackie.

“And you were all in on this? Even you, Sienna?” asked Cassie as she glanced around the room from person to person.

Bryce leaned forward to peer around Cassie. Sienna cheeks were flushed, but she didn’t shy away from looking at the two of them.

“I mean, I was rooting for you two! Plus, Elijah had a PowerPoint which made it all feel so official! And, I don’t know, we’ve all been waiting for you guys to-”

“What she means is we’ve all had to put up with your obnoxious flirting for far too long to not have a bit of fun,” Jackie said, cutting off Sienna’s ramble. However, one thing Sienna said stuck out to him, and apparently to Cassie.

“Elijah, you made a PowerPoint?” she asked, her free hand coming up to her cheek.

It was Elijah’s turn to have his cheeks darken, but he just gave a little shrug. “Like Jackie said, this has been a long time coming. And I was bored in allergy clinic.”

“It was quite the presentation,” said Raf.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need to see that,” added Bryce, shooting Cassie a wink as she shook her head lightly.

“I don’t know if I still have it.” Elijah answered just a little too quickly, making Bryce think he very much did still have it and had no intention of showing it to them. But before he could push him on that, Jackie asked Elijah another question.

“So, quit stalling. Who’s the winner?”

Elijah just shook his head. “Like I said, we all lost. Brittany was the last date, and even hers passed last month.”

“Wait, you got the gen surg residents involved in this as well?” Bryce asked.

“We’ve all been subjected to your prolonged and public teasing,” said Jackie, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to fight her on that statement.

“I mean, I know we’re a good looking couple, but this level of fascination is beyond what even I could have expected.” Bryce’s statement drew groans from almost everyone in the room and pillows chucked at him by Raf, Aurora, and Jackie, but all he could do was squeeze Cassie’s hand before snuggling up against her again, settling in for the end of the movie… and likely a little nap. Their friends could tease them all they wanted. They were happy, and that was all that really mattered.

Permatag: @choicesficwriterscreations @walkerswhiskeygirl  @octobereighth  @kimmiedoo5  @mom2000aggie

Open Heart: @mskaneko @omgjasminesimone @debramcg1106

Bryce x MC: @lahellacute @weaving-in-words  @anotherbeingsworld  @chaotichuman0090 @fortunatelywaywardsandwich   @dreaming-of-movies  @choicesarehard  @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl  @sunnyxdazed​

[catxsnow]

WW III D.G.

Summary: Disbanding the Titans did more damage on you then anyone would have thought. Based on Titans

Warning: SWEARING YOU KNOW THE DRILL, angst, uh some mentions that you and Dick did the sex 

A/N: This is kind of has a similar vibe to OLD WOUNDS, but like more painful if that’s possible so have fun. 

GIF not mine. 

Word Count: 3k

Being part of the original Titans was something that you were proud of. You were the youngest of the bunch but proved your worth the first time that you fought together as a team. The six of you were unstoppable together and for years you continued to prove that. It was upon losing Garth that the team broke apart.

Jericho too, even though he was never part of the team. He trusted the lot of you like friends and you betrayed him. You used him to get to his father. It had taken a toll on all of you. It was why you all parted ways.

Hank and Dawn left together, you were sure nothing could break them apart. They kept up the crime fighting at their own pace. Donna quit altogether, she couldn't bare to wear that suit again after losing Gar. Dick became a detective in Detroit, never to be heard from again.

You however, you stayed in San Francisco. The city had been your home your entire life and just because the team split apart in their own ways, didn't mean that you were ready to part with your home. The Titans Tower remained vacant. Though you couldn't leave the city, you couldn't go back to your home away from home either.

There were too many memories in there. Memories of spending late night hours with Dawn and Donna being just regular girls during crazy times. Memories of beating Hank and Garth in training and never letting them hear the end of it. Memories of you and Dick, balancing between lovers and haters.

Throughout all the years that you had known Dick Grayson, you couldn't tell how you spent your time with him more: at his throat fighting or between his sheets. The two of you had a fire that never went away, sometimes it left destruction in its path while others it created something beautiful.

He consumed your life. Every day, every hour you were with him. The team couldn't keep up with what kind of terms that you were on half the time. Especially when you were out fighting together, no matter what was going on between you, the two of you protected each other to a whole new level.

You and Dick were perfect together when it came to crime fighting, that was a constant between the two of you.

And then he left. Dick Grayson packed up his bags and left San Francisco, he left you. It had been years ago but you could still remember the pain from him gone. Dick left you without even a goodbye. He thought that it was best to just disappear without anyone knowing where he was gone, without a painful goodbye.

Fuck did that hurt you.

Dick had the tendency to make your life miserable. The two of you fought over everything, couldn't agree on anything, and reeked such havoc that you couldn't tell where the destruction ended and where it started. However, he also knew how to make your life a blessing. Sweet words whispered to you late at night, kisses that would make your knees weak, and affection that continuously dragged you in for more.

His disappearance changed all that. You no longer wanted to feel these things for him, looking back at it, your relationship was nothing but toxic. One minute you were getting dragged down by him and the next you were on a pedestal. Never had a relationship of yours been filled with so many ups and downs.

So, when Dick popped up on your radar in San Francisco, specifically at the one place that you used to call home, you had no choice but to see what the hell he was doing in your city. Not only had he come back, but he had brought a bunch of strangers as well. This wasn't just his building to use, it was all of yours.

Dick, along with the others who had been curious as to who was riding up the elevator, waited for your arrival in. He knew that it had been years since he had come to see you and that leaving your like this wasn't going to be a warm welcome. He didn't know what to expect when it came to you.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Dick looked at you in awe. The years apart had done you well. You looked older, more mature. It was obvious that you were still in the game, muscles were more defined than they ever had been. You hair had changed styles - it suited you better. Dick thought that you looked beautiful.

His moment of awe was abruptly ended when he felt a punch thrown right at his cheek. Dick groaned at the pain and held onto where you had hit him. Your fists were clenched at your sides and it was easy to tell you were pissed. The kids behind him simultaneously let out a noise of shock that some stranger would attack their supposed leader like that.

"What the fuck are you doing back here, Grayson," you spit out. As much as he never knew what you were going to do, he didn't expect you to be this angry. "You disappear for years, no calls, no texts and then you show your face back in my city?" you pushed him back with every statement until he was up against a wall.

Dick had never seen such a fire in your eyes. After all of your fights, you were never this angry with him.

"(Y/N), I-" he paused. The last thing that he wanted to do with you right now was fight. You had done enough of that when you were kids.

"Who's the babe?" One of the kids that Dick had with him spoke up with the sudden silence. There were two boys, both of which must have been around the same age while the girl looked a little younger. You had no idea who these people were but they must have been special to be in the tower.

"I recommend you treat me with some respect, kid. Or I'll put you on your ass before you can repeat that," you snapped. Generally, you were in a lot better mood than this, however seeing Dick again but a new kind of fire in your chest.

"This is, (Y/N) (L/N)," Dick glanced between you and the others. "We, were, uh, partners."

"Partners wouldn't leave each other," you glared. "I don’t know why I even bothered coming here. Fuck you, Dick Grayson." You shook your head in frustration and headed back to the elevator that you came up from. This was a mistake, you shouldn't have even bothered to stir up old feelings that you had buried years ago.

"(Y/N)," Dick called out for you. "I could use your help, starting the Titans back up again." He wanted to tell you that he wanted you back in his life. He would take any excuse to have you back again. Coming back to the tower was driven by wanting to see you again. it had been years, and he had no idea where to start.

You laughed, the kind of laugh that put a chill through him. "You want to start the Titans again? Are you insane? There's a reason I never came back here, Dick. You should have done the same. Leave, before someone else gets killed on your watch."

"I can't do this without you," Dick tried to stop you once more. You were already standing in the elevator, praying that these doors would close faster. He missed you, he just didn't realize how much until arriving there. Memories of the two of you rushed back to him and he couldn't get you out of his head.

"Good. Don't."

Finally, the doors closed. You could feel your chin tremble as the overwhelming desire to cry surfaced. Seeing him again reminded you of what used to be. The two of you were destined to be at your game of cat and mouse forever. He ruined that, and he knew it too. Leaving you was one of the biggest regrets he had.

You hadn't been the same without him. Your fighting became more tactile and aggressive - just as his had. You didn't have anyone to back you up anymore leaving you with more injuries than you ever had with the team. After years of having someone to watch your back, it took a long time to become accustomed to going solo.

One thing was for sure: you weren't going to let him back into your life just to fuck it all up again.

><

Being an original Titan meant that all your information was stuck in the database, no matter how many times you tried to delete it all. You address, you family, everything there was to know about you down to your allergies. With all that at the tip of Dick's fingers, he couldn't not go over to your home to try and fix things.

He let you cool down, gave you a few days to think about his reappearance. Not to mention that he needed to settle back into the place that he once called home again. Every room that he went in, all he could think about was the memories that he made with you in each of them. His old bedroom struck him the hardest.

Past memories consumed him. The ones of the hours that you spent with him in there - laughing, joking, fighting, the make ups and the break ups. He knew that the path that you guys took was a bumpy one but he wanted it all back. He wanted you back and he knew that it wasn't fair of him to ask you of that.

Dick broke your trust. He left you when he should have known that you were the only person that would have his back. He lost the trust of the others, not after what he did with Jericho. You were the only one who knew that this was all of your faults, not just his. You were willing to share the blame but he put it all on himself.

When Dick showed up at your doorstep, late at night with a bottle of whiskey in his hands as a peace offering, you didn't want to let him in. You didn't want to let him back into your life after he ruined you for so many years. Yet, when you met his eyes, you couldn't resist opening the door a little wider for him to step in.

You brought two glasses to your small living room and handed one over to him. With your history, you were going to need the whole bottle if either of you wanted this to end well.

"I'm sorry," Dick finally brought up the reason that he was there. "I fucked up, I know. You didn't deserve this. I shouldn't have left you, not the way that I did."

"No, you shouldn't have," you agreed. "Jericho wasn't your fault, Dick. We all agreed to the plan, I take as much responsibility as you do. You didn't kill him, Slade did. If there's anyone to blame it's him. I wish you would have understood that all those years ago, I wish the others would have too."

"Doesn't matter," Dick shook his head. "They wanted to throw the blame on me and I let them, I wanted them to."

"You've always been a glutton for punishment," You sighed, taking another sip of your drink. "You can't just come back here thinking that I'm going to waltz back into your arms, Dick. You wrecked me when you left. Do you know how hard it was for me to move on with my life without you? After all those years together I thought that I would have meant more to you."

"You do," Dick met your eyes. Glutton for punishment was right, he was kicking himself over this, over leaving you. "I was never good for you. How many times did we fight? You deserve a lot better partner than me. I always knew that, I just hoped that me leaving would make you realize that as well."

It didn't. Him leaving brought out your worst self-consciousness. You analyzed everything about the situation wondering why the fuck he would leave without telling you. The others all said their farewells, wished you the best of luck. All except him, it was as if the moment the others left that you meant nothing to him as well.

"It didn't," you shook your head, pouring yourself another glass. "I tried to forget about you. Fuck did I try. You meant a lot of things to me, Dick. I just wish that you would have been able to see that."

"If I would have meant that much to you, we wouldn't have argued so much," Dick countered.

"Fight just to fuck just to fight again," You scoffed to yourself. It was true, looking back at many of your years, that seemed to be the trend. Anyone who didn't know you would have just known this, they wouldn't have known about the emotional moments you shared, the genuine care that you had for each other.

"World War Three, huh?"

You knew that if anyone tried to hurt you, Dick would have torn them apart. He would have fought anyone that looked at you the wrong way he cared so much - at least you thought it was him caring. Years of pinning over each other, maybe it wasn't care, maybe it was obsessiveness that he had for you.

The idea of a constant battle of fighting just to make up. Knowing that he could never quite have you but also aware that you couldn't belong to anyone else. Bruce shaped Dick into many things, but his compulsiveness? That was something that you were sure that was formed from neglect of emotion.

"I loved you, Dick," you gripped the sides of the chair you were sitting on to stop you from shaking. "You left before I ever got the chance to tell you."

"We all left, (Y/N)," Dick looked at you with sadness written on his face. "Titans disbanded, we couldn't keep up this act of being a team anymore. You didn't have to stay here either, that was your choice."

You picked up on his tone. I didn't love you back. Maybe he was the self-righteous asshole that everyone put him out to be. You were just to blindsided to see it for so many years. He pulled you into a trap and even when he let you go you still hung on.

Dawn. It was always Dawn that he wanted, not you. He knew with Hank in the picture, he would never get her again. Their fling was short lasting but made an ever lasting effect on him. Dawn didn't realize that it had hurt you more than it had hurt anyone else.

"I hoped that we could be a team again," your voice was strained. You downed the rest of your drink hoping to cover it up. Your disappointment turned to frustration and anger towards him. "You're right, I should have known better than to keep my hopes up. I see you found replacements already."

"I was hoping you would come back too," Dick offered again. You shook your head, going back there would do you no good. Being back with Dick would only drag you into old habits, habits that nearly destroyed you last time. After taking years to build yourself back up again, you couldn't afford the risk.

"I was too blindsided by your cock last time, I'm not making the same mistake again," You stood up from your spot and walked over to the front door. "I think its time to do what you do best and leave."

"I'm not leaving here until I know that you're going to be okay," Dick stayed seated in his spot. He poured himself another glass and topped up your drink. The two of you were going through the bottle like it was nothing. "I always cared about you, I never stopped. Please, just think about coming back to the Titans.

"Dick, please. Just go," your voice trembled. Just because he cared about you didn't mean he ever loved you like you loved him. How much of his feelings were faked just so he could get laid? You weren't the type of person that could have casual sex, you needed that emotional tether. Dick didn't.

"I'm being serious," Dick leaned back on your couch. He wasn't going to leave, he was too stubborn for that.

"I'll come back if you can look me in the eyes and tell me that once upon a time you loved me."

Dick sighed, his eyes sealed shut at your ultimatum. God did he want you back at the tower, he wanted you there as his fighter, as a leader. He couldn't handle a bunch of kids on his own, he needed you there. You already knew the ins and outs of crime fighting, it would be so much easier for him.

He knew he needed you but he also knew that he couldn’t drag you through a roller coaster again. Dick had put you through so much already, it wouldn’t be fair to keep you close just for his own benefit. He cared about you too much to hurt you again.

"I can't do that, (Y/N)."