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whorediaries-09 · 9 months ago

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i wanna be yours;

pairing- sirius black x barista!reader warning(s)- tooth decaying fluff. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- totally self indulgent.

masterlist for the 'the seven lives'

the slut club

if you like your coffee hot let me be your coffee pot

he doesn’t fancy coffee much, he’s more of a tea person.

much to his dismay, james drags him to the one of the small downtown cafés in london. james likes his sweet coffees, it helps him focus, he insists. sirius thinks it makes him more inattentive; if that were to be possible. he thinks his friend would still be chasing colourful butterflies or pet dogs that curl up near sirius’ legs.

however, the feeling quickly dissipates. when his eyes fall on you. you’ve got your hair up in a messy bun, writing down orders on a piece of paper. a slight smile curved upon your lips. the apron you wear is dirty, and he imagines it smelling like freshly baked cookies and coffee. he feels his heart skip a beat when you turn your head around at the sound of the charms above the door jingling. the smile on your lips broadens, the soft sunlight reflecting your features.

he feels a weird warm sensation calm down over his nerves, as you wave to his friend.

‘hi james, what can i get you today?’ you ask. even your voice is ethereal.

‘just the regular, darlin’- he jolts sirius in his ribcage, causing him to stomp on his foot, ‘-and whatever this dolt likes,’

his hand grips his ribcage as the pain of the soft blow dissipates over his body. he rolls his eyes, and he walks nearer to the counter, behind which you stand, taking in the sight of you. you chuckle softly, and he thinks it’s music to his years. he’s pretending to trail his eyes over the menu, trying to choose what he wants. truth be told, he has no idea about what he’s seeing. cappuccinos espressos, lattes, americano, they all seem fancy, foreign words to him. he chooses the safest option, to not make a fool of himself.

‘i’ll have a masala chai, please,’ he says. james stares at him in silence. he watches his eyes as you walk away back into the kitchen, he knows that look. it’s been years since he’s seen it on his friend’s eyes. but he knows it, he remembers it.

‘okay so one caffé mocha for james and one masala chai for-?’ you speak. sirius thankfully enough, catches up to your words. he leans closer, letting his hips sabotage the counter,

‘for sirius,’ he whispers, as if a secret to be kept between you and him. he doesn’t miss the flush on your skin or the way your eyes cradle over his appearance or way you unconsciously lean slightly closer to listen to him. you nod, everting your eyes.

‘one masala chai for sirius,’

it’s the best one he’s had, he thinks.

you smudge the sticky lip gloss on your lips, fixing stray strands of hair on your head. it’s silly you think, to expect sirius to come back to the café. he wasn’t with james the other day he came in. but still, a part of you heaves hope that he’ll come in.

to maybe, just ask your name.

you’re busy eating your lunch, balancing yourself on a tool while reading a book. it’s not a very lovely book, with weird phrases and graphic descriptions containing nothing very interesting, but you think you’ll survive. it’s just for time pass, you convince yourself, letting the taste of your lunch relish on your tongue. it’s not a very busy day, with only a few customers dropping by, along with james. so, you’d finally convinced him to try something new out of the menu. he’d reluctantly chosen a caramel iced frappe. he was a very picky person, and you remembered how remus had introduced him to coffee, the first time he’d walked into the shop.

you never saw remus again, james became a regular. a picky person thing you supposed, to drink something new from the only shop they knew and liked.

you wondered whether sirius was a picky person too. it was a strange looming feeling, one that echoed into your brain and made you feel like a teenager high on hormones. but who wouldn’t be? the man exuded an aura of charm, his words and voice as smooth as velvet. it was idiotic you supposed, to be enamoured by somebody who didn’t give you more than his name.

still, it makes your stomach turn happily with dopamine, when your hopes turn into reality and the forsaken man that had been on your mind turns up. he carries a very chubby baby in his arms. you silently appreciate the flexing veins on his tattooed biceps as he walks towards you.

‘the chai was fire,’ he says. his eyes wander over to your uniform, trying to catch your name tag. there’s none he realizes, before his eyes fix on your face.

‘maybe you’ll try a coffee today?’ you say, a shy smile on your face.

‘surprise me darling,’ he says. the way the r rolls off his tongue makes you stomach do somersaults.

‘i’ll try my best,’ you say, dashing off into the kitchen.

it’s a hazelnut mocha caffé you bring back. you’re not sure whether he would appreciate the slight nut like taste on the drink, but it’s still worth a try. more cliched than a try really, bringing a cute customer your personal favourite drink.

you write his name on the cup with as much precision as you can on the curved surface. try to make the dots on the i’s look more carefully drawn along the paper. you silently hope he notices your effort.

‘what have you got, for me now, hot stuff?’ he says, a cheeky grin on his face. he enjoys the tiny flush the appears across your skin and how you bite your lip at the nickname.

‘are you flirting with me because your kiddo has eaten up the cookies on the counter?’ sirius’ eyes wanders to the baby in his arms, and he grabs a tissue to wipe off the dust of his cheeks.

‘he’s not mine, i’m his godfather. it’s james’ kid,’ he explains, letting out a soft chuckle at the baby’s antics.

‘father like son i suppose,’ you drawl, handing him the latte. he looks at the cup, wondering what you’ve got him for a surprise. he hopes it’s not one of the sweet things’ james’ buys. it’ll make him sleepy, and he won’t be able to take care of harry as he’d promised.

‘how much do I owe you -?’ he stops mid-sentence, in a dilemma to use nicknames or not. he wants to know your name, let it simmer on his tongue before he lets it out. thankfully, you get the deal. so you give him your name.

he thinks it’s beautiful.

‘hi baby, what are you drawing?’ your voice is soft. you hand sirius his masala chai, rutting your hips against harry’s side of the table. he fiddles with his crayons, drawing random scribbles on the piece of paper. his striking green eyes stare at you, before he blabbers, his words not so clear yet,

‘a motohcych!’

‘ouhh,’ you hum, pushing your fingers through the mop of curly hair atop his head. you scratch your nails softly on his scalp, enjoying the sound of his chuckling.

‘is it prehhy?’ he asks, a shy smile on his face as he finishes scribbling on the paper. you’re not able to make out much from the black colours, but the innocence in his voice makes your heart melt. you press a kiss on his chubby cheek, and he giggles,

‘it’s very pretty,’ you say, bopping his nose.

‘whah do you like? i wihh drawh thahh’ he says, struggling with his words. you find it adorable. but when you speak out your answer, it’s more for sirius than harry,

‘flowers maybe? like yellow ones?’

on a particularly busy day when, sirius walks in your café, it’s not a very empty space. and neither are you to be found anywhere. he hopes you’re in the kitchen somewhere, preparing your coffees. over the times he’s come over, he’s learnt you’re a shy thing. he’s not much of an observer, but somehow you make his eyes stop. you make him observe and learn things.

so sirius puts the bunch of flowers he’d bought on the table, alongside a note for you.

when you find them, they’re barely blooming, buds of yellow flowers. it makes your heart flutter when you find his note. a boost of serotonin runs through your body as you sabotage the tissue, searching for his number. it’s dumb, you think, but it’s also a hope that blossoms within you. you however find none.

you’re distracting by your name being shouted across the kitchen, asking for a hand in help.

you’re freezing, as the rain patters over the sidewalk, just barely missing your shoes under the sunroof. you urse yourself for not bringing in your umbrella or a raincoat. now you’re stuck under the rain, with nowhere to go until the rain stops.

you’re saved by an angel with red hair who comes along the way, carrying an extra umbrella, with a toddler curled up in her arms. her eyes are striking similar, an emerald green you could recognise anywhere.

‘harry?’ you ask, looking at the toddler. he flashes you a beautiful grin, throwing grubby hands at you. you pinch his cheeks, smiling.

‘you must be lily,’ you say, turning to the woman. she stares at you flabbergasted, her mind seemingly rendering to her memories,

‘how do you know me, sweetie?’ she says, giving you an extra umbrella.

‘sirius- um well he comes to the café very often. he usually brings your adorable kid around,’

her eyes scan your features, as a look of realization dawns upon her. she squeezes your shoulder, slowly walking away into the rain. it pitters over the plastic of the umbrella, and she smiles, a soft look in her eyes.

‘give the umbrella to sirius, the next time you see him,’

sirius is jittery when he walks into the café. he hopes to catch you, even though he knows it’s not your shift. but there’s something about the aftermath of rain and petrichor which heightens his hopes. he tousles with his raven dark strands, hoping he doesn’t look too bad. you’ve made him shy. in a way, where he’s too intimidated to speak his feelings out directly. but he’s a man with plans.

his heart threatens to jump out of his chest when he finds you there. it’s the work of gods, or perhaps the work of his faith. he walks towards the counter, and you catch his eye. he thinks your eyes carry the most magnificent twinkle when you see him. your eyes linger on his lips a tad bit longer for it to be just friendly and his heart almost jumps through his ribcage. he’s almost forgetting his plans when you smile so sweetly at him. for a moment, he thinks it’s meant just for him.

‘hi darling,’ he greets, leaning towards the counter. his hips jolt at the metal, and he takes out his phone. you nod, acknowledging him.

‘do you think you can help me with…a crush?’ he says. he watches your breaths stops in your throat, as a dark sadness reflecting in your features.

‘maybe,’ you whisper, a quiet disdain succumbing your voice. you don’t meet his eyes. over the time he’s observed you, he realised that you don’t meet anybody’s eyes when you’re sad or angry. it’s a way of bottling up your emotions and eating them up till your stomach churns.

‘you wanna see a picture?’ he asks, trying to not react to the sadness on your face.

‘sure,’ you say. his heart almost shatters when you keep your head low, not meeting his eyes. he unlocks his phone, sliding it between your face.

your reflection stares back at you, and you jump. with surprise or glee, he can’t decipher. the sadness on your features has dissipated, your eyes glowing with hope and emotion. he stares at his reflection in your eyes, and he thinks he’s the prettiest reflected through the colour of your irises. he bites his lip when you don’t say anything.

he’s waiting in contemplation, wondering what your next move is, when you lean against the counter, closer to his face, breathing him in. he secretly thanks himself for chewing on a gum before he came in.

‘i think you should just ask her out on a date. she’ll be foolish not to say yes to you,’ you say, your eyes full of mischief. you’re grinning, as he counts the wrinkles beside your eyes.

‘you think so?’ he says, leaning closer, and almost brushing his lips against yours. almost letting himself taste you. he thinks if he has a taste, he won’t be able to stop himself from devouring you, from ravaging you apart.

‘i bet so,’ you say, smiling before your hand cradles his face, pushing his lips upon yours. he groans, capturing his lips with yours. he tastes coffee and vanilla on your tongue, melting away into his tastebuds. he loves it, he thinks, when you slide your arms across his neck, pushing yourself deeper into a passionate fury of build-up tension and hormones. his heart flutters with serotonin, and he tangles his fingers into your hair.

he doesn’t fancy coffee much, but he’s never found it more endearing than this moment.

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taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking (if you want to be tagged, reply under this post!)

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

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storm-angel989 · 4 months ago

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Yo I love your work.. anyway can I request Val x Fem Reader when Reader is on their period and the rest is up to you (I’ll cry if you actually notice)

Hi Friend,

Thank you for sending in your request! I always notice and read a request- sometimes it just takes time for my brain to buzz.

Now I have written this before. The link is here:

Valentino x Reader (Period Pains)

That being said….

Here is another version! Think OTO reader and Val after they’re married.

<3 Mandy

The bright red stains on my favorite pajama pants began the start of that cursed day. It was going to be one of those mornings that lasted all day.

It didn’t help that I woke up alone, my husband off to do whatever it was he did in his studio. Vox and Velvette were working and me? I was by myself. Which, as I poured myself a cup of coffee and stirred in my creamer, I figured was better that way.

I lifted the mug to my lips and took the first sip of what should have been a heavenly experience. Instead, I was met with the bitter taste of peppermint. I spat it into the sink and went to set my mug down. Somehow I missed the counter and shards of ceramic splatted the floor.

“Fuck!” I yelled across the empty flat. I grabbed a roll of paper towels and cleaned up the mess as quickly as I could, tossing the shards into the garbage. Housekeeping would be up later, but with how the day was already turning out, I didn’t want to risk stepping on a rouge shard.

“Who the fuck puts peppermint into their coffee without mocha?” I growled aloud as I shoved the creamer back in the fridge.

Of course, I knew the answer was Vox. As much as he pretended he only drank black coffee, those of us who lived with him knew his guilty pleasure. Random flavored coffee creamers that appeared in the fridge each time it was restocked. It was just my bad luck that I had grabbed the wrong one this morning.

Shoving the thought of making another cup of coffee to the side, I jumped into the shower, willing the hot water to take away the cramps that slowly awakened with each movement of the day. Fuck, there were some days I hated being a girl.

But, like all women, being on our period wasn’t an excuse to miss work. Going to see Velvette in her studio was always an option, but just the thought of being touched by another being made me annoyed. I gingerly dressed myself and pulled my hair up into a bun. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I grumbled as I tried to hide the tiny whiteheads that appeared overnight with a strong dose of foundation.

“Okay, I can do this,” I said to my reflection as I swallowed down several advil. “I got this.”

Ten hours, eighteen phone calls and one ruined pair of underpants later, I stormed back upstairs to our apartment.

“Babygirl, you’re home late,” Valentino’s voice rang out.

“I know, fuck,” I snapped without thought. The cramps, masked by the Advil I had taken this morning, left me both nauseous and crabby. Every part of my body ached, and I could feel a headache starting to brew. I slammed the door behind me as I stripped off my outfit for the day.

The bright red bloodstain on the back of my dress. I stared at it and without really knowing why, I burst into tears in the middle of my room.

“Bebita?” Valentino’s voice came quietly from behind me.

I felt him tug the dress from my hand and he wrapped his arms around me. I didn’t have to say a thing and instead laid my head on his chest as I sobbed.

“Nothing a little stain remover can’t take out,” he said soothingly. “It’s alright. Why don’t you get in the shower? I’ll get your pjs and…”

“My two favorite ones are wrecked,” I choked out softly. “I bled all over the ones this morning, and my backups have a hole in them and…”

He pressed a finger to my lip and kissed my forehead. “Just let me figure it out while you go shower, okay?”

There was something about he way he said it that left me with a feeling of comfort. I disappeared into the shower and by the time I came out, he was leaning against the bathroom sink, waiting. He handed me a towel and watched as I wrapped it around myself.

“I have a heating pad and a cup of tea ready for you in bed. Toast, if you’re hungry. Advil if you want it. And if you’re in the mood to cuddle, I’m here. If not, I can stay with you or give you space. Remote is yours either way.” He pointed to a pile of clothes. “Period underpants. Vel sent them up. And…wear my pjs tonight. They’ll be looser than anything you own.”

“Thanks, Val,” I said softly. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch when I came in.”

He cracked a smile. “Mi amore, I don’t think you know the true meaning of that word. Come on out when you’re ready.”

I watched the door close behind me and got dressed in the outfit he left for me. I settled into bed next to him and sipped the warm tea.

“I love you Val,” I said after a few moments.

“I love you too, bebita. Even when you’re cranky,” he replied lightly. “And I always will.”

#valentino x reader #hazbin fluff #valentino x you #hazbin hotel #the vees x reader #vox x reader #valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #the vees #valentino x wife

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leeknow-thoughts · 4 months ago

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thank you for the tag mocha :3 mwah mwah mwah!!

Mamushi - Megan thee Stallion

Tejano Blue - Cigarettes after Sex

Runners - stray kids

Nuts - Lil Peep

танцы - ssshhhiiittt

tagging @hyunsvngs and @ho3central

rules :: when you get this, list 5 songs you’ve been listening to & tag people!

one take me home, ateez

two burning desire, lana del ray

three woke up, xg

four andromeda, gorillaz

five mmmh, kai

tags: @mingtinysworld | @hwakakeri | @songmingisthighs | @xuchiya // tagged whoever came to mind first sorry idk many people here .. 🫠 (not compulsory ofc ^^)

#bun's friends : mocha #bun.talks #bun.reblogs!

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colormepurplex2 · 5 months ago

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The Demon Is In The Details | It's Just A Box

↳ Demon!Jimin x Human!f.Reader ⤜ Crossroads Demon AU, Accidental Enthrallment ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 6,470 ⚠️ Crass language, demon summoning, talk of blood, demon deals, life bartering

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

“Wouldn’t you rather be at home and in bed right now? I know I would,” you lament for the dozenth time since your best friend dragged you out into the middle of nowhere.

She gives you a disgruntled look from over her shoulder. “Can you stop being such a spoilsport already?”

You’re not trying to be a spoilsport. You just don’t see the appeal in trudging through the woods in the middle of the night to go bury a box of questionable items at some supposed crossroads just so nothing can happen.

“Do you really believe in this stuff, Dom?”

Dom—or Dominique Portland to almost everyone else—has been your best friend since you were both barely tall enough to see over the kitchen countertop. Inseparable only just scratches the surface of the bond you share. Your summers growing up were spent sharing her small twin bed and waking up to her mother frying bacon and flipping pancakes nearly every morning.

The silver ribbons holding her unruly space buns in place flutter in the air as she spins around and starts walking backward, her mocha eyes assessing you. “You know I do,” she finally says, a playful smirk curling the corner of her full lips, making the piercing in the center of the bottom one glitter in the soft moonlight filtering through the trees.

You’ve always found her to be a stunning human being; a bit eccentric maybe, but that only adds to her beauty, you think. The bright lilac streaks in her tightly coiled hair match the overall dye of your own, a sentiment you both think speaks volumes for the kind of friendship you have. Her cinnamon-colored skin is radiant and smooth, and she has a smile that lights up any room.

“Watch where you’re going before you trip or something. I’m not carrying your ass the three miles back to civilization,” you grouse good-naturedly, giving her shoulder a playful swat.

Dominique laughs, the sound echoing through the sparse canopy around you. But she spins back around and resumes stalking through the underbrush, the flashlight in her hand swinging wildly across the trees. Her platform combat boots make quick work of the climbing weeds and thin saplings under foot as she picks up her pace.

She started dabbling in witchy things over a decade ago, mostly crystals, tarot cards, herbs…and now summoning demons, you suppose. When she first showed you her tarot cards and the satchel of crystals her grandmother passed down to her on her eighteenth birthday, you humored her by letting her read your fortune or whatever it is she did with them, thinking it would be a phase and pass.

But, as the years went by and she continued to delve into the mystic arts and varying degrees of the occult, you realized it wouldn’t be passing; at least, not any time soon. It’s become less about humoring her and simply more about supporting your best friend in what she loves to do, even if you find it a bit unorthodox.

“We’re almost there,” Dominique sing-songs, throwing her hands up and doing what you’ve coined as her terrible impression of jazz hands. The bangles on her wrists clack together, creating a tinkling sound that you find eerie as it peals through the quiet of the forest.

“Oh, golly gosh, how exciting,” you mutter to yourself so Dom doesn’t hear your unenthusiastic sarcasm, before continuing a bit louder, “Cool. Think we’ll be back before the sun comes up? I’d like to be able to get at least a few hours of sleep before work tomorrow.”

Dominique chuckles, her shoulders swaying as if she moves to some musical beat you can’t hear. “Don’t worry yourself, my lovely friend. I’ll make sure you’re home and in bed long before the sun graces us with its warmth.”

You follow Dom through a tight squeeze between two towering trees. It opens up to a small clearing. The moon, bright and full overhead, illuminates the space like a spotlight setting the stage for a grand number. In the very center of it all stands a giant tree, the star of the show, with its branches reaching far to each side. Its leaves thread through those of the others lining the edge of the clearing.

“Wow,” you mutter in awe. “It’s so creepy it’s actually kind of pretty.”

Your friend claps delightedly, a girlish squeal of excitement echoing from her. “It’s just like Grann described. She told me stories about this place when I was little. I always wanted to come see for myself, but by the time I was old enough, I had honestly forgotten it existed.”

“Until you decided you wanted to summon a demon,” you offer, earning a giggle from Dominique.

“Until I decided I wanted to try and summon a demon,” she agrees, clicking off her flashlight and shoving it into the crossbody bag she has over her shoulder.

You follow her further into the clearing. The tree in the center seems to grow taller the closer you get, looking larger than life once you’re under the outer fringe of its branches. The leaves are dark and richly green, and the trunk looks rough, gnarled, and ancient. It must be hundreds of years old, you’d wager.

The ground underfoot changes from the soft give of grass and dirt to a harder, more resistant feel as you move ahead, just behind Dominique. “Odd,” you say, stamping your foot. The heavy thud of solid ground sounds from under your foot. “It’s almost like…” You trail off, realizing it’s exactly what it sounds like.

Beneath the layer of leaves and other debris, there is a faint, hard-packed path. You can see it now, the distinct difference in the way the grass grows. It’s like a path runs straight at the tree before bisecting to either side of it.

“A true crossroads,” Dominique announces. “Full of old magick, a pinnacle of power…so divine. Can’t you feel it?”

Whether it’s of your own accord, or Dom bringing attention to it, you’re suddenly aware of a distinct buzzing sensation crawling its way up your arms and down your spine. It feels like ants skittering over your skin and you’re just waiting for that sting of the first bite.

An uneasiness settles in, filling the pit of your stomach with wasps instead of butterflies. Something about this place feels wrong. Like one false move and the ground will open up and swallow you whole.

“I-I don’t know if I like this, Dom. This place is giving me the creeps.” You no longer find it all that beautiful. If anything, you’re fairly certain the beauty is hiding what is really underneath: pure, unadulterated wickedness.

She pulls a small tin from her back pocket and gives it a little shake. The contents inside rattle around, making you wince at the sudden, jarring sound. You watched Dominique fill the tin earlier tonight. Graveyard dirt, a few strands of hair, a photograph, a sliver of yarrow root, and a few drops of blood soaked into a square of homemade paper fit tightly into the hinge-lidded metal box that once held tiny breath mints.

Dominique explained the significance of each item, but if someone asked you right now to repeat what she said, you don’t think you could. Especially not with the anxiety deep in your gut growing in intensity with each passing second.

“There’s nothing to be worried about. It’s just a box. You said it yourself, this probably won’t work. Worse case, I get my hands dirty burying this, and then we can go home…where I will graciously accept as many ‘I told you so’s’ as you want to give me.”

You sigh, resigned to let her do this. You take a few steps back, giving Dominique a wide berth as she kneels down in the grass in front of the tree. The jeans and ribbed long-sleeve shirt you’re wearing are keeping you comfortable, but despite that, you shudder as a chill passes over you.

The words Dom mutters are incoherent to you, sounding mostly like gibberish spoken with a thick, in-the-throat accent. As soon as the incantation trails off, she pushes to her feet and brushes the dirt from her hands off onto the thighs of her jeans. The whole time her focus is lasered in on the small mound of disturbed earth where her tin now resides.

😈😈😈

Jimin

The sound of treading footfalls echo around Jimin, seeming both distant and close all at once. It’s the same every time someone decides to disturb the relative peace of a crossroads. First, it’s the sound of their footsteps, then the airy inhale and exhales of their lungs, and then comes the erratic, lub-dub of their heartbeats.

Seems it’s time to go to work. There is an order to these things, a queue of sorts, and it just so happens that now it’s his turn. It’s been a while since Jimin was summoned, though not long enough as far as he’s concerned. With the number of demons combined with the progression of disbelief among the human population, the fewer people who believe, the fewer people who demand deals.

It’s not that Jimin hates his job, per se. He quite enjoys haggling his way through pitiful souls, satiating that deep, internal ache inside himself. It’s a primal necessity, one derived from being at the top of the proverbial spiritual food chain. Yet…he’s found himself growing tired of the mundane dribble of the same tired requests.

Nothing excites him anymore, and that should be a crime punishable by a thousand years in the darkest sanguine pit of his world, he thinks. Being a demon should be fun—it once was. But, after thousands of years of hearing the same sniveling pleas and demanding offers, he desires something more…just, more.

The inside of his quarters in the Obsidian Fortress reflect his restlessness. He’s acquired some of the more baser items from his time up top. A bed he doesn’t need, furniture that would easily sell for millions at auction for its rarity. Jimin has come to covet such things, if only for the fact that he thrills in acquiring something that someone else wants so badly.

The eclectic collection now looks more ramshackle than anything, though, with the chaos of discarded clothing items and trinkets tossed about. If anyone else were to see his quarters, they might think him manic. All it would take is a simple flex of his power to right everything, to return all the clothing to their place in the armoire, and to neatly tuck his trinkets back onto the tansu in the corner.

Yet, he can’t bring himself to clean up. Not just yet, at least, he needs one more moment to enjoy this before seeing to the demanding call from above. The disorder offers comfort in its own way, something for his mind to focus on instead of the dreary, repetitive existence he seems to be trapped in. But, duty calls…unfortunately. Taking one last look around his quarters, absorbing the chaos of it all, he sighs and taps a forefinger against the side of his thigh, and in a flash, everything is as it should be.

Irritated now more than ever, he considers ignoring the call from up top for just a while longer, in spite of himself and the cleaning he just did. Not like it matters either way because whoever they are, they’re taking their sweet ass time getting to the good part. Intriguing, though, that there are two sets of footfalls. Typically people do these things on their own. But, Jimin doesn’t mind an audience. Maybe it’ll even be more exciting that way; he sure as hell could use it now.

It’s been some time since he was last called upon, but even longer than that since he had some genuine fun. Long gone are the days when the people who wanted to strike a deal actually asked for something worthwhile. No, it’s gone from selfless pleas for the health and prosperity of families to coveting millions of followers on Instagram for oneself or something equally as ridiculous—how utterly boring.

Though, he supposes, it’s no wonder humans have grown selfish, considering the world they’ve supposedly revolutionized for themselves. Sensationalized greed and loathing, poisoned with the bitter taste of caffeine and processed foods. Most would probably think that’s a treat to his kind; easy prey and all that. But, they couldn’t be more wrong.

Jimin sighs, rolling his head from side to side over his shoulders as if he could somehow rub away the itch now grating beneath his skin. His corporeal form is his preferred, even if it comes with its own set of limitations.

For instance, moving slower between his place in the underworld and up top. It burns as he wills his body to the surface. It’s a pain he welcomes, as a reminder that there is more to life than his servitude, and if he plays his cards right tonight, he’ll get to walk away with a special little treat in his pocket.

As soon as he surfaces, he flexes his power and suspends everything in the clearing in time. It gives him a moment to consider the offering and gather his bearings. Using a hand on the trunk of the tree to keep his balance, Jimin bends down and sifts through the dirt, fingers plucking the small, metal box from the earth.

The giant tree at his back is a comforting presence. It’s seen a fair amount of deals, his as well as others. Just a silent sentinel watching over each morsel of humanity bargained away. Which, thinking of that, Jimin shakes off his mental fog and refocuses on the two women standing before him.

They are both uniquely pleasing to Jimin’s eyes. He would enjoy sampling them both, given the chance. It’s a shame that’s not how these things go. Maybe if he’s persuasive enough, he can garner some sort of pleasure, even if it’s just taking in the smell of a second soul he won’t know the taste of.

Jimin bounces the tin in his hand for a second before thumbing open the lid. The contents are the usual bits and pieces. Well, usual at first glance. But, taking a closer look, he pauses…realizing there is something different about the clump of hair inside.

Sure, it’s purple, which makes it quite unique to begin with. But it’s more than that. Plucking out the hairs, Jimin brings them to his nose and gives a sniff. All reservations about tonight being any sort of mundane are quickly replaced with an assurance of fun and intrigue. Tucking the hair away and slipping the tin into his pocket, his mind begins to swirl.

He thought having an audience might make things interesting, but he never imagined this possibility in all his millennia; sure to be fun indeed. Resuming a demeanor of nonchalance, Jimin leans back against the tree and, with a flick of his wrist, allows most of the world around him to resume breathing once more.

😈😈😈

Mmm. Well, well, well, what do we have here? Two little mice come to play?

The voice is a seductive purr that licks across your psyche. It’s simultaneously inside your thoughts and in your ears, everywhere all at once. Dominique is frozen where she stands before the tree, her hands tightly fisted at her sides. She doesn’t so much as appear to be breathing.

You whip around, trying to seek the source of the voice, but your best friend is the only other being you can see in the clearing.

“W-who’s th-there?” you choke out through quivering vocal cords. “Dominique? Dom, let’s just go!”

The few steps you have to take in order to grab Dominique by the arm feel like miles with the way your feet shuffle sluggishly. It feels like you’re wading through thick mud instead of meadow grass.

As soon as your fingers brush her arm, an electric shock zings up your arm, and the scream that bursts from your lungs is a mix of pain and terror. The same instant the zap surges up your arm, a man appears lazily leaning against the tree trunk. You’re certain he wasn’t there before.

Oh. How deliciously interesting. The same voice from before reverberates through your mind and echoes in your ears. One contract. Yet…I taste the essence of two distinct souls. He pushes off from the tree and cocks his head to the side, inhuman vermillion eyes lock on Dominique in consideration.

Ignoring the fiery burn where your skin touches hers, you tug on Dominique’s arm, but no matter how hard you pull, she doesn’t budge. “Dom, this isn’t funny! Let’s go, now!” Your words are edging on hysterical. Tears of fright flood your lashline, causing you to blink rapidly to try and keep a clear eye on the strange man. “You stay away from her!”

Those haunting scarlet eyes flick in your direction, and a sly smile hooks up one corner of his pouty mouth. He doesn’t move any closer, but you’d swear that if your eyes were closed, the sweeping sensation that you feel caressing the apple of your cheek is his fingers. Fear not for your friend, little mouse. It is you that you should be concerned for. In all my millennia, never before have I come across a free soul. Tell me, is this simply a mistake, or is it intentional? Either way, I think I’ll enjoy this…yes, I think I’ll enjoy this very much.

“Oh my god. Holy shit, I did it,” Dominique whispers. Her body sways like she suddenly was released from whatever was making her immobile. The way she stares at the man with wide eyes and a half smile, you wonder if she’s even registered the last few minutes that have passed. “Look! Look, do you see him? A fucking demon! I did it!” She whoops with glee, stamping her feet in clear excitement.

“What the fuck, Dom?! Let’s get out of here!”

You try to yank on her arm again, but she shrugs you off this time, giving you another one of those disgruntled looks. “And lose this opportunity? No fucking way.” She shoos your hands away and whips her phone from her pocket, immediately thumbing to the camera and begins to film.

A solid presence at your back keeps you from taking a step backward. It feels like you’re pressed against a wall. “Dom, please!”

The man takes another step forward, coming within just a few feet of where Dominique is standing. His eyes catch the moonlight and flash like twin blood red rubies. Dark, coifed hair frames his smooth forehead, and his pert nose leads to lips that are full and glossy.

If there ever was someone that embodied all the devious, lust-filled thoughts in the world; this would be them. “A real demon,” Dom breathes. “My very own demon.”

The man—demon—tuts softly, wagging a dainty finger in the air. “I belong to no one, least of all to a sweet, little field mouse like you. If anything, it’s one of you that belongs to me.” It’s the same voice that was threading through your mind just moments before, only now it’s crystal clear and fills only your ears; it’s sweet like honeyed music. A significant contrast to the wicked words themselves.

Dominique laughs. “Me belong to you? Riiiight. Pretty sure that’s not how this works. I summoned you, demon.”

“Be that as it may, you’re not the only little mouse here,” the demon chuckles darkly. He turns slowly, his eyes cutting in your direction. “It is, in fact, your delicious friend here that seems to be caught in my web without a way out. Imagine my surprise when I’m summoned here, only to discover that there are two souls but just one contract. Seems someone made a grave mistake, judging by how she quivers just so.” You watch as the demon comes closer, pulling something from his pocket. It’s the tin, you realize, as the silver exterior flashes in the moonlight.

“What are you talking about?” You and Dominique ask at the same time.

With a thumb, the demon flicks open the small mint tin, exposing the cluster of items within. He pinches the strands of purple hair between his thumb and forefinger, pulling them from the tin. “It’s a shame, really. I assume you didn’t pull these directly from your pretty head,” he muses, devilish eyes flicking at Dom. “A brush or a comb perhaps…one that your friend may have also used a time or two.”

Dominique absently pats at her hair, fingers coiling around a few of the stray strands of purple—the same purple as your own hair—that have escaped her buns. Cold dread pours down your spine and fills your belly until you think you might be sick.

“Dom…tell me he’s not saying what I think he’s saying.”

Her breathing grows erratic, but she provides no response or affirmations for you. Because you both know exactly what happened. You watched as she plucked purple strands of hair from the boar bristle brush. A brush that you have used in a pinch a few times when you couldn’t find your own.

“B-but, she’s…she’s not the one that summoned you. I did. This is my contract, my blood sacrifice!”

The demon hums, tilting his head side to side in a thoughtful, so-so manner. “That’s the interesting part. Well, interesting for me, more’s the pity for you. You see, the blood you so graciously added to this tin here—” he gives the now closed box a little shake “—affords your soul some safety. However, without that…well, an unprotected soul is just so tantalizing and ripe for the plucking.”

“NO!” Dominique screams, throwing up her hands and stepping in front of you as if she can shield you from your fate. “I’ll do anything you want. This—this, um, my deal…yes, my deal is you have to leave my friend alone. I want to protect her soul. You can’t have her, that’s what I want!”

He throws his head back, crowing to the moon with maniacal laughter. The tailored suit jacket and white shirt covering his torso gleam as his whole body shakes. The grass beneath his shiny loafers begins to dance and sway, almost like flickering flames. The sight he presents terrifies you.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” he finally says after his laughter trails off. He smooths his hands down the lapels of his jacket as if to compose himself. “You’re essentially asking for the price of a soul. Which, being generous, is quite priceless to begin with. Anyone would be hard-pressed to give up such a delightful treat. Let’s see—” he tucks his hands into his trouser pockets and paces a few steps away before turning back “—I think, and mind you, this is being quite nice considering…sixty years would suffice.”

“Sixty years?! Sixty years of what?”

Before the demon can answer, Dominique explains in his stead, “My life. Sixty years of my life in exchange for your soul.”

“In exchange for…what? What the actual hell is going on? Neither of us is going anywhere with this fucking psycho! Let’s just get out of here, Dom!”

Angry tears sting your eyes, but you don’t even care to stop them from sliding down your cheeks as you desperately try to pull Dominique backward. That solid, impenetrable presence is still behind you, but you ram your shoulder against it over and over, grunts of frustration ripping from your throat.

“It’s no use,” Dominique resigns with a sigh. “Neither of us can leave before the deal is sealed.”

“This is nonsense! A cruel prank. Give it up, Dom, it’s not funny!” you beg, yanking at her arm. “Just stop!”

“I can’t move,” she tells you, and you watch as her body sways on the spot like she’s trying to lift her feet but cannot. “I’m sorry, okay? I am so sorry.”

“But, it’s not real. It can’t be real! You said so yourself that this wouldn’t work! Sixty years, Dom, you’ll die!” Desperation colors your words, your voice cracking from the intensity.

Dominique turns her head to look at you, her lips parted as if she’s about to speak, but she freezes once again. It’s like she’s turned into a statue, a macabre wax replica of herself.

Calm yourself, little mouse. There is no need to panic. If the taste of her soul is any indication, she will agree with my terms. Sixty years of her life in exchange for letting you scamper away back into your little burrow, soul intact.

“She’s thirty, if you take sixty years, she’d…that’s not fair! There has to be another way.” You lick your dry lips and can feel the demon watching the quick swipe of your tongue as you do so.

One moment he is a few feet away, and the next, he’s crowding into your space, forcing you back against the invisible barrier behind you. The acrid scent of brimstone and burnt matches clogs your nose, carrying with it the subtlest hint of citrus bite.

Up this close, you’re able to see just how deep red his eyes are and how utterly flawless the expanse of his face is. The pointed tips of his canines peek out as his lips pull back in a rictus grin.

That is my price, human. Your friend gives me sixty years of her life right now and I’ll leave you alone. Perhaps, if you’re lucky, she’ll be healthy and cognisant long enough for you to say goodbye.

“And if she says no, if she doesn’t agree?” you ask in a shaky whisper.

In that case, you become mine…wholly and completely. You see, your friend was careless in her dabbling, naive and truly laughable, honestly. Such wasted potential. A sound similar to a sigh feathers through the explanation, and you can see the demon roll his eyes as if he’s annoyed with the revelation.

“Wholly and completely? Not protected?”

The blood sacrifice that is needed for summoning demons is a way to bind a demon to the rules of the crossroads. It means we’re not allowed to bring untoward harm to those we are summoned by. However, because your friend decided to be lazy and pull hair from a brush instead of from her head, combined with the lack of your blood inside that little tin, well…you’re not protected by those rules. Meaning, if I wasn’t such a nice fiend, I’d have gobbled up your sad soul the instant it was presented to me. Which is exactly what I’ll do if your friend says no.

You can tell he’s trying to make it seem like it’s Dominique’s fault. And, maybe, in many ways, it is, but you also feel responsible for indulging in this madness in the first place. But, it also seems far too simple, like— “That seems like a really shitty loophole,” you say aloud, echoing your internal sentiment. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to try and trick me? I’ve read about demons, they’re known to be liars and con artists.”

The demon reaches out and tugs lightly on a stray lock of your hair, making you hiss in pain. “At least you’re cute and smart. But, if you insist.”

He steps back, putting much-needed space between your body and his, though it puts him closer to Dominique, and your fingers itch to shove him farther away from her. Not that you think you even could. He might look slight in build, but you know it’s not his physique you’d have to contend with, but whatever demonic magick he has.

With a flick of his wrist, a giant scroll unfurls in the air. Several feet of winding parchment swirl around you. It settles on the ground in great heaps, one end held in his fingertips and the other lost somewhere among the waves. He snaps the fingers of his other hand, and Dominique completes her turn toward you, confusion instantly furrowing her brow. Whatever she was going to say dies on her tongue.

“What the fuck?” she asks absently as she looks down at the yards of paper covering the toes of her combat boots.

“Perhaps you’ll be interested in this as well,” he says, gesturing with the paper in her direction. “Considering this is your contract, after all. You both should be thanking me for this opportunity, I don’t typically do this. But, with it being a special circumstance, I figured I’d indulge before any hasty decisions are made. Go on, read between the lines. Because, as they say, the devil—well, demon,” he chuckles lightly at his own joke, “—is in the details.”

😈😈😈

Jimin

It’s cute watching the two mortals actually attempt to read the contract. The contract is written in The Dark Tongue, the language spoken by all daemon-kind, but with a little trickle of power, it appears in whatever language is necessary for the reader.

“How are we supposed to read and comprehend all this nonsense? It’s worse than reading a legal document. All of it sounds made up, jargon that a group of kids came up with or something,” you mutter under your breath.

Jimin has yet to learn your name. It would be easy to reach into your mind, or the mind of Dominique—whose name you inadvertently, yet conveniently, provided to him—and pluck it out. But, for some reason, he wishes for you to be the one to tell him on your own.

Dominique fumbles with a length of the contract, frantically skimming. “I-I don’t know. Look, I’ll…I’ll just take it. This is my fault, my fuck up. I can’t let you be punished for something I was so careless over. It doesn’t matter what any of this says,” she shakes the contract, “because there are probably too many hidden meanings, and…you’re not going to pay for what I’ve done.”

“What? No, Dom. Shut up, okay. You don’t get to talk like that.” Your voice is thready and thin, breaking as you plead with her.

“I don’t have a choice here. I have to make a deal, regardless,” Dom mutters. She moves in close to you, her eyes flicking over to Jimin before she leans in even closer, putting her mouth close to your ear.

It takes tremendous effort for Jimin not to roll his eyes at the action. They could be miles away, whispering, and he would still be able to hear them. He listens as they start to try to devise a plan that involves keeping both of their souls. Jimin can taste the conviction in Dominique, and knows that no matter what, she’s not going to just let you go. Not without a fight, at least. But, she has the right of it. She can’t leave this glade without signing on the dotted lines. Whether on this contract or a different one.

Finally, after several minutes, the contract forgotten on the ground; it seems that Dominique and you have come up with some sort of plan. Jimin tuned out most of it, not really caring one way or another. It wouldn’t change his offer or what is required tonight.

“It’s okay, Dom. It’s going to be okay,” you reassure her in a soft voice. “I trust you.”

As Jimin swings his attention back up, letting the two figures come into focus, he makes a mental note that the tears shining in Dominique’s eyes are not mirrored in your own. Your back is straight, chin jutting out in what appears to be an attempt at courage. It’s delightful to see that you’re not a complete jellyfish.

“So, ladies, are you satisfied?”

You swallow audibly, but your resolve doesn’t wither as you stare him in the eye and shake your head. “I have a new offer, different parameters.”

Jimin suppresses the laughter that fills his chest. “Well, let’s hear it, then.”

“Before we start, w-we—I want…I want to make sure this new deal guarantees that she’s unharmed,” Dominique's voice quivers as she speaks.

One of Jimin’s perfect brows arches in curiosity. “Go on.”

“She’s not giving up sixty years of her life. That is not happening. So, I’ll go with you, but under the condition that you allow us to see each other in person once a week, right here in this clearing for as long as the moon is in the sky. Just so she knows I’m okay.” Your sass is appealing. Jimin had thought you were the more demure one of the two, but it seems maybe he was wrong.

He contemplates for a moment, considering the new parameters. “Once a year.”

“No, that’s not good enough. A lot can happen in a year. Twice a month.”

The fact you’re not even trying to bargain for your life, just time, at this point, is amusing to Jimin. It’s not often he gets to barter. Most humans just take his initial deal and think they have no other options.

“Twice a year,” he counters, interested in what you’ll suggest next, though he can feel himself grow tired with the prospect of the back-and-forth already. His intrigue instantly takes a dive.

You shake your head, accepting the hand that Dominique offers you. Your fingers squeeze around hers as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. “Once a month. Please. That isn’t asking much, I wouldn’t think.”

“Once a quarter.”

“No. No. Once a month! And you only keep her for three years,” Dominique states, her tone more demanding than he feels is warranted considering the situation. He pointedly ignores her.

“Please,” you implore, looking vulnerable for the first time since you discovered his desire for sixty years of Dominique’s life in exchange for your soul.

Jimin’s eyes flash with annoyance. “You do realize I could simply end this farce? All it would take is a snap of my fingers—” his eyes blaze with flames for a second as they bore into yours, his voice growing harsher “—and you’d be mine while your friend was left floundering. Do not think to press this any further. I will keep her for ten years and not a day less. You may have your once-a-month meeting and the only person in this sad existence who will remember you exist is her.” He flicks a hand in Dominique’s direction, making her flinch.

😈😈😈

Knowing Dominique will be safe is a relief. But the prospect of everyone in your life ceasing to know you exist is another blow you weren’t expecting. In fact, you were hoping to use that to your advantage. If Dominique could go back and file a missing persons report, it might help somehow. But now…now, that’s another option off the table.

Ten years. That’s seemingly an unfathomable amount of time now that you’re facing it; more akin to an eternity as far as you’re concerned. But, you try to remain hopeful. Whatever happens at the end of those ten years is something you’re not certain you have the mental capacity to think about right now.

You did your best to keep your voice low when you put your head together with Dom’s, not sure whether or not the demon would be able to overhear your exchange. You told Dom that she can’t give up sixty years. That you would rather endure a few years of servitude to the demon in the chance that she could discover a way to free you. If anyone could do that, you know it would be her.

She has sworn to do all that she can to see you released from his grasp. Even if she has to summon every crossroads demon between here and the other side of the world, she’s vowed to do just that. The first thing she’s going to do when she leaves his clearing is call her Grann and tell her everything. You’re confident that even if this demon erases you from everyone else’s memory, Grann will believe Dom regardless.

You straighten your spine, giving Dom’s hand a squeeze before untangling your fingers from hers. “Accept the deal, Dom. This is how it has to be.”

“I-I can’t do that,” Dominique whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. “Please don’t make me do that.”

“Dom, you have to.” You turn to her, soaking in the sight of her beautiful face while you can. “I trust you,” you say the words slowly, enunciating clearly in hopes she gets your meaning. “I’ll see you in one month, okay? One month.”

Dom’s lips tremble as they open to form the word of acquiescence. The one word that will seal your fate and her guilt.

“Yes.”

“So be it.” Jimin flicks his wrist, and the contract retracts back into its rolled-up form. He unfurls it again in the same movement, displaying it once again before you and Dominique. “Each month on this same day, we shall return here for precisely one hour’s time. Whether you show or not is your own prerogative,” Jimin directs that at Dominique before turning his gaze and focusing back on you. “You will be mine. Body, mind, and soul. You will not disobey me, you will not hesitate to do as I tell you, and you will never question me. If you do, this contract will be void, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity making you regret ever befriending this poor excuse of a witch. Is that clear?”

“Ye—” Dominique jolts forward, her free hand slapping over your mouth and cutting you off.

“Don’t. Don’t you say anything. He’s trying to trick you into an agreement that is separate from mine. You don’t have to agree to anything, don’t let him lull you into things like that. Please,” she beseeches, “be vigilant. Do not accept anything he says at face value. Always think before you agree.” Dom tears her eyes from yours, training them on the being watching your exchange. “Hear me, demon. You’ll do well to remember the first part of my demand: I want her unharmed. If she has so much as a single hair out of place the next time I see her, I swear—”

The tip of his nose twitches as his lips mash into a thin line before cutting her off, “Best hold your tongue, witch, lest I cut it out for daring to tout such nonsense. As if I would breach the terms of a contract. She will be unharmed. I may be a demon, but that does not make me a monster nor a cheat.”

Dom gives you one last searching look. You nod, letting her know it’s okay.

“I’ve already agreed, demon. Let’s finish this.” And, so, with a prick of Dominique’s thumb and a smear of blood, it’s finished…all because your best friend buried a box.

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-06-26 ColorMePurplex2

#jimin x reader #bts jimin #park jimin #jimin imagines #jimin smut #jimin angst #demon jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #bts smut #paranormal romance #bangtanwhq #btscreaturescoven

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acciojaeyun · 2 years ago

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– 12:07 am ; how riki falls in love

genre: fluff pairing: nishimura riki / ni-ki x gn!reader trope: love at first sight

a/n: and the how they fall in love series concludes :(

when ni-ki feels, he makes it known.

if he doesn’t like the colour assigned to him, it’s shown on his face. if he finds something cute, he says it’s cute. if he finds something confusing, he’s the first one to show that he’s confused.

so, when ni-ki falls in love, he has made it known to his hyungs – unwillingly, at that.

he’s quiet, but he’s loud. his presence is known by his loud silence. he walks into the room; all eyes are on him. ni-ki usually has his eyes either on his hyungs or on his phone – sometimes, none at all.

so, when jungwon sees his silence significantly different as it wasn’t his usual vibe, jungwon follows ni-ki’s trail of vision. the leader’s eyes landed on you, who had their eyes glued on the book they were trying to read. jungwon’s eyes flickered back to the maknae, who was now mindlessly sipping on his latté as he tried to sneak glances at you.

“you’re not being too sly, you know,” jungwon says, his eyes now on his phone as he tries to pull a reaction out of ni-ki.

ni-ki hummed and seemingly snapped out of his thoughts, shaking his head as his hand travelled through his dark fluffy hair, “what?”

“you could just ask their name.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” ni-ki rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, trying to take a photo of the café while subtly including you in the shot – taking a mental note to post it on his instagram in the most hidden way he could think of.

ni-ki thinks he’s in love, but he’s quite unsure. however, sunoo was.

“they’re y/n,” sunoo smiles as he mixes his affogato.

“what? how would you know?” ni-ki’s eyebrows raised up.

“i’ve chatted with them once or twice already,”

“could you –“

“introduce you to them? i was just waiting for you to tell me that!”

ni-ki clings on the first tell-tales of love.

for one, his heart plummeted as he finds himself walking towards you.

“hi, y/n! mind if we sit here?”

“no, not at all,” you smiled as you made room for the two people.

“i’d like to introduce my friend, by the way, he’s –“

“hi, i’m ni-ki,” he smiles shyly, nodding his head at you as his way of acknowledging your presence.

“i’m y/n, and i know you.”

the second time he realises it, it was when he was panicking when you arrived later than your usual time of arrival at the café near their building.

“hey,” you smirked at him as you realised he had already ordered your usual – sticky cinnamon bun for you and a croissant for him, to pair with mocha for you and caramel macchiato for him.

“hi – uh, hello,” ni-ki blushes, “i hope you don’t mind that i ordered you your usual already,” he ducks his head down.

“no, not at all,” you smile, and instead of sitting in front of him, you sat beside him, and ni-ki’s breath hitched.

just like the third time, when he sees you in their lounge with a paper bag in hand.

“you mentioned last time that today would be busy,” you started before pushing the paper bag towards him.

six people had their eyebrows raised and mouth agape; and sunghoon almost had the moment ruined by voicing out his shock loudly, good thing jungwon was able to cover his mouth as sunoo nudged him by the side.

“i thought i would bring you a croissant – oh, and your macchiato…” you trailed off, suddenly growing cautious over the fact that the tall boy (who happened to be the youngest one of the bunch) hadn’t spoken a word yet.

ni-ki’s eyes flickered back and forth from your hand to your face, and he tries his hardest to suppress the smile by biting on his lip, however his reddened cheeks seem to stray him away from success.

he intentionally reaches for your hand, engulfing his over yours that held the handle of the paper bag, “thank you. i owe you one.”

“you don’t - you don’t have to —“

“a date, if you don’t mind?”

and that leaves you dumbfounded. with a chorus of cheers and whistles from the maknae’s hyungs, blood rushed into your cheeks and you smiled.

“no, not at all,”

ni-ki smiled.

“oh, and ni-ki?”

his eyebrows raised, the cheers died down.

"took you long enough."

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hearts4golbach · 9 months ago

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The Night Shift.

Chapter 7.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

I sat at the counter with my notebook and pen, scribbling down ideas for new recipes or drinks. My mind frequently wandered to johnnie, and it worried me. I couldn't get what Jake asked me out of my brain. did I like johnnie? I couldn't tell if what I was feeling was just having a really good friend or something more. I cringed at myself. I doodled on the side of my page, drawing hearts and stars until someone walked in.

"Hello, miss." the man said with a heavy southern accent. I suppressed a laugh, thinking about Jake.

"Hi, what can i get for you?"

"Let me get the peanut butter mocha, please. That'll be all." he sighed. I nodded in response. "You got a boyfriend?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. I'm sure he didn't mean it the way it sounded. I immediately thought about johnnie. "No, sir."

"Well, don't worry. once you find someone, you'll know." he had a crooked tooth grin.

"Oh, thank you." I smiled. it confused me where this came from. "Why do you say?"

"You learn to read how people feel when you have a bipolar wife." he snorted.

"Well, you were spot on."

a woman walked in behind him on her phone. she looked up and smiled at me. she was beautiful, even if she had a messy bun and no makeup. she seemed sweet.

"Listen, you seem like a nice girl. you've got looks on your side, too. I say go for it. I know I don't know your situation, but when you look back, you'll regret it."

I was getting a little more concerned each second. this was almost creepy. how could he be so right? I passed his coffee over the counter. "Thank you." I said genuinely.

he nodded, not saying a word as he walked out of the cafe.

"What was that about?" the girl asked, walking up to the counter.

"Apparently, he could sense how I was feeling. I've been overthinking about this guy I met, and he was spot on." I shrugged.

"so, when's he going to tell my fortune?" she joked, pulling out her wallet. "tell me about this guy."

"well, I met him a few days ago. I think he's really cute and we've had our... moments, I guess. i think I might be gaslighting myself into thinking I don't like him like that. I've never had a boyfriend, let alone a genuine crush." I rambled. "I genuinely do not know why I'm opening up to strangers."

"I mean, who knows if we'll ever cross paths again."

"still, I feel stupid." I shake my head. "anyway, what can I get for you?"

"can I just get an iced caramel coffee?" she asked with a sweet smile on her face.

I hum, turning around to make it. What a weird night, I'll probably end up rephrasing to tell johnnie later. we talked little after she asked.

"I hope you have a good night." I smiled softly as I handed her coffee over the counter.

"you too." she smiled back before walking out.

I sat back down and continued to try and write, but my mind frequently wandered back to johnnie. was he even coming tonight?

about an hour and a half later, the door bell rang. "Hey, y/n." Johnnie's tired voice called. I looked up, he carried his computer under one arm.

"johnnie, how bad is your sleep schedule?" I teased, "this is the 3rd night in a row you've come to see me. you must love my face to come here at like 2 am every night."

"what can I say? I get really bad nightmares and your face does in fact make me feel better."

my gaze softened as I smiled.

"do you mind if I hang out in here and edit a video?"

"I'd love that." my heart fluttered at Johnnie's presence.

I turned around to clean the counters as he chose the table closest to where I was. he lazily opened his computer and pulled up the needed footage.

I hummed quietly to what was playing in my headphone as I finished wiping everything down. I fixed myself a coffee and went to sit across from him.

"I had the weirdest fucking encounter today." I mentioned.

he looked up. "what happened?"

"This guy came in and told me that I seemed stressed over a guy and that I'll know if he's the right person and I shouldn't fight my feelings off." I blurted, not bothering to rephrase it.

he made eye contact with me again, curiosity glistening in his eyes. "so, like, a connection you can't explain? thats really poetic."

"yeah, it's scary cause he's right." I mumbled.

"well, if you think you've found that person, then go for it. life's too short to not." he looks back down at his laptop.

"what if I'm not sure if he likes me back?"

a twinge of hurt flashed in his eyes. he seemed to be scrounging for ways to respond. "well, what if he's just as unsure as you?" he asked knowingly.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "so should I really think on it?"

"you might be wasting time, but you never know. maybe waiting is a good decision." he avoided eye contact with me.

"are you good?"

"yeah." he trailed off, rubbing his arm.

silence filled the room for a good minute, I zoned out, staring into my coffee once more.

"have you ever felt that way?"

"felt like what?"

"when you like someone but you're terrified it'll ruin something good?" I pondered.

he looked up, his gaze softening. "yeah, the fear of losing someone so special even though nothing has happened yet?"

"yeah, exactly."

"well, I guess we have to take risks. step out of our comfort zone, you know?" he paused. "at least we could say we tried, right?"

"right." I whispered, awkward tension filled the room.

he cleared his throat. "when you know, you know."

#johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert #fanfiction #fanfic #jake webber #tara yummy #the night shift

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leeknow-thoughts · 3 months ago

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ty to my dear mocha for the taggie :3

no pressure tags ! : @ho3central @hyunsvngs @milf-ivy

GUYS GUYS GUYS!!!! WEVE MADE OURSELVES NOW WE MAKE SILLY KITTIES!!!

This is my kitty, I don’t have a name for her yet but we can call her Barb😝

Tag tag tag people who should try it out:) : @ilovehimyourhonour @yongbun @h5eavenly

#bun's friends : mocha #bun.reblogs!#bun.talks

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leeknow-thoughts · 3 months ago

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ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ send these stars 🌟✨💫 to your favorite blogs and remind them how bright they are! ெ♡༚

mwah mwah mwah ily mocha :3

#bun.talks #bun's friends : mocha

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bupsafr3ak · 3 months ago

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IM PROBLEMATIC

I have a lot of names but you can call me Ani or Maya (마야). I have 5y, 10y / 18y / 20y / 118y / 273y / 599y / 1987y (im Transage!! >o<).

magical girl irl

Queer stance that i create: Satisqueer🌪️🌈

otherkin , alterhuman , therian , pro/comshipper , profic , lolisho , Transid n paraphilic. �� ྀིっ༷⩊ ɞ̴̶̷ ྀི ১

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა /ᐠ - ˕ -マ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

i make flags, redsigne, and symbols. i post all kind of thing here, including problematic sub things, if you’re not on theses bubbles just >>>BLOCK<<< not report, just put as >not interested< and block. I’m not hurting anyone, the people who interact are inside the bubble, and if you don’t have do what i said above. everyone here is mature enough to know what want. im NOT influencing anyone.

︶ ⏝ ︶ ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ︶ ⏝ ︶

�� Traumagenic Sys !!﹒ ౨ৎ ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

→🌸🌙|🍖🌈|🫂🌟|🐾❔|🐾🍟 ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

⁺ . +☆︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦˖ ⁺ . +ྀི

𓏵 ﹒ all my names !! ◟ 𖦹

Ani¹ , Gwen² , Maya Kuneko³ , Woo Hyun-young⁴ , Yoo Yoon-rin⁵ , Yeobo Lee-young⁶ , Yoneno Chihiro⁷ , Tomoko kuroki⁸ , Kaeth Ósk⁹ , Yarrow¹⁰ , Mikael¹¹ , Dantè¹² , Lovelace¹³ , Valentin¹⁴ , Hikki¹⁵ , Ash¹⁶ , Gloomy¹⁷ , Lacey¹⁸ , Rei¹⁹ , Melody²⁰ , Alma²¹ , Mwynwen²² , Ophelia²³ , Logan²⁴ , Wade²⁵ , Dean²⁶ , Sam²⁷ , Scott²⁸ , Léo²⁹ , isacc³⁰ , Nicole³¹ , Cassandra³² , Mewo³³ , Zero³⁴ , Beatrice³⁵ , Agatha³⁶ , Will³⁷ , Castiel³⁸ , Ollie³⁹ , Nadia⁴⁰ , Filia⁴¹ , Annie⁴² , Madoka⁴³ , Crowley⁴⁴ , Bobby⁴⁵ , Velvet⁴⁶ , Dorian⁴⁷ , Vincent⁴⁸ , Viktoria⁴⁹ , Salem⁵⁰ , jellysh⁵¹ , Eliza⁵² , Clémentine⁵³ , Doll⁵⁴ , Sweetiebelle⁵⁵ , Nico⁵⁶ , Sweetheart⁵⁷ , Lavender⁵⁸ , Lovelace⁵⁹ , Marionette⁶⁰ , Luppet⁶¹ , Lolita⁶² , Coquette⁶³ , Sugar⁶⁴ , Cinnamon⁶⁵ , Vanilla⁶⁶ , Bonbon⁶⁷ , Candy⁶⁸ , Cappuccino⁶⁹ , Cupcake⁷⁰ , Milk⁷¹ , Mocha⁷² , Jack⁷³ , Jeff⁷⁴ , Liu⁷⁵ , Nina⁷⁶ , Pop⁷⁷ , Jane⁷⁸ , Hoodie⁷⁹ , Clockwork⁸⁰ , Toby⁸¹ , Cakette⁸² , Pudding⁸³ , Strawbie⁸⁴ , Caramel⁸⁵ , Cremelle⁸⁶ , Shortcake⁸⁷ , Berrie⁸⁸ , Raspberry⁸⁹ , Angel⁹⁰ , Marie⁹¹ , Pearl⁹² , Cassie⁹³ , Sid⁹⁴ , Michelle⁹⁵ , Veronica⁹⁶ , Bonnie⁹⁷ , Marceline⁹⁸ , Star⁹⁹ , Eda¹⁰⁰ , Morute¹⁰¹ , Hime¹⁰² , Agejo¹⁰³ , Ayano¹⁰⁴ , Amai¹⁰⁵ , Ryoba¹⁰⁶ , Hanako¹⁰⁷ , Junko¹⁰⁸

pink: favs | purple: just close friends.

they / them , doll /dollself , bunny / bunny’s , bun / bun’s , 🐾 / 🐾’s , 🍮 / 🍮’s , 🎀 / 🎀’s

AUDHD High support level, dislexic, dyscauculia, APD, depression, social anxiety, schizophrenia, Lizitomania, DPRD, HSP, synestesia, BPD, hearing imparied.

i make flags!! sexuality, gender, xenos, TransID, para, among others!!

╭-┈ 𝐃𝐧𝐢

┊✩ Deadpool/Wolverine 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫

┊✩ 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜(𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐭,𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜)

┊✩ 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢-𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐲𝐬

┊✩ 𝐒𝐲𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐝

┊✩ 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐥𝐮

┊✩ 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢 𝐱𝐞𝐧𝐨/𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩/𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮

┊✩ 𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭

┊✩ ”𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 (𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬) 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮”

┊✩ “𝐈’𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 (𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬) 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧”

┊✩ minors DNI acc

┊✩ -𝟏𝟮 𝐲𝐨

╰-┈-┈-┈-┈-

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arborix · 9 months ago

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Meet Mocha!!

Sweet lil 9 year old breeder bun, friend's mom became super allergic so I'm taking her in! Gonna slowly learn all her quirks but she apparently is pretty chill, loves kale, and has a timer exactly 45 minutes on her bladder. More pics to come later when she's more settled in and comfortable!

#my pics #my pets #bnuuy

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leeknow-thoughts · 3 months ago

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SO FUN !!! :3 thank you for the tag my dear mocha :3

Height : Hyunjin (skz)

Age : Sunoo (ENHA)

Personality : Jessi (soloist)

Hair Color : Gowon (loona) (i'm getting it dyed back to brown tomorrow actually :/)

Eye Color : none el oh el I have big blue eyes but here is this pic of lix (with blue contacts) that makes me giggle :

Types of Clothing : Jeongin (skz), Keeho (p1h), NingNing (AESPA)

Type That You'd Date : Lee Know (big duhhh), Jeongin (duh), Natty (KIOF), Momo (twice), Jeongyeon (Twice), Jungwon (ENHA), Jiwoo (KARD), Somin (my wiffeeee) (KARD), Yeji (Itzy)

Type You'd be Besties With : Hyunjin (skz), Vernon, BM, Seungmin (skz), Chaewon (Le Sserafim), Sakura (Le Sserafim)

no pressure taggies : @milf-ivy @hyunsvngs @ho3central

Send this to 5 kpop blogs and have them describe themselves with idols. List below:

Height:

Age:

Personality:

Hair color:

Eye color:

Types of clothing:

The type you’d date:

Type you’d be besties with:

Have fun 💕❤️

Thanks for sending me this it was really cute! I’m gonna tag yall instead lol

Height: Hikaru (Kep1er) am 5’1 😒

Age: Woozi (Seventeen my mans)

Personality: A mixture between Chan, Minho and Seungmin honestly.

Hair color: well naturally it’s close to brunette Felix tbh. Need this hair to come back bro

Eye color: Naturally I don’t think any idol has my eyes? If I’m wrong tell me they’re blue lol

Type of clothes: Lots of black splashes of red

The Type You’d Date: let’s all say bangchan in unison- but fr Chan? Definitely Minho as well and of course Seungmin😂 but also let me throw in a few others. Yoongi , Woozi , Wooyoung

Type You’d Be Besties With: Weirdly enough I’m really good at making friends I’m kinda like Chan in that aspect. However I really really would love to be besties with Jisung. Also like D.O. Maybe? I feel like we’d vibe tbh lol

@doitforbangchan @bluejutdae @httpdwaekki @dwaekkicidal @yongbun @jeonginsleftcheek @miss-daisy04 @gnabnahcsworld @moonchild9350

And anyone else of course!

#bun's friends : mocha #bun.talks #bun.reblogs!

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esimsterlookbook · 3 months ago

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High School Reunion - Kelsey

Meet Kelsey, the head cheerleader in high school who took her talents professional and now is looking at becoming a coach for a national cheerleading team. She is ready to come back to her old stomping grounds looking stunning and looking out for her old best friend and ex-girlfriend, Marjorie.

Base Sim Info

Serawis Noir Whisper Face Overlay / Faaeish SD-Eyelids / Pyxis Stuck On You Skintone / Sammi_xox Nose + Lip Masks / Twisted Cat Lara Skin Freckles / Peachyfaerie's Lily Contour / Ok ruee misc face details / Anonimux Moles 04 / Northern Siberia Winds Eyes N19 / Oito Pores / Remus Siron Eyebrows 31 / Twisted Cat Lashes N04 / Obscurus skin 28 Overlay / Praline Sims Cleavage Pack 01

Teen Outfit

Diversed King Shayla Hair / Rose Coffee Sims School Spirit Cheerleader Top / Blue Craving Brandy Skirt / Mysterious Dane Adidas Gazelle / All Harlows Eve Pom Pom Recolor / Praline Sims Malice Piercings / Anonimux Mavuika Eyeliner / GoppoIsMe Gold Makeup Set C75 / Lady Simmer Starpop Shadows / Veve Bisou Highlighter

Young Adult Outfit

Kie Gross Maria Lace Weave / Rimings Spaghetti Strap Maxi Dress / Mermalade Strappy Wide Heels / Simpliciaty Aubrey rings / S-Club WM ts4 bracelet 202006 / Simpliciaty Anya Necklace / Praline Sims Malice Piercings / S-Club Watch 202003 / Northern Siberia Winds Eyeliner N5 / Praline Sims Frappe (N90) Eyeshadow / Seleng Lipstick N149 / Sims3melancholic highlight #9 / Giulietta Sims Rounded Square Medium Glossy Nails

Reunion Outfit

Kie Gross Alanna Bun / Rimings New Gift Box 7 Dress V1 / Giulietta Sims Mutliple Bangles / S-Club WM ts4 bracelet 202006 / Glitterberry Sims Black Heart Earrings / Gorilla x3 Basic Coin Necklace / Northern Siberia Winds Eyeliner N5 / Lady Simmer Creamy Shadows / Praline Sims Blush 78 Mocha / Praline Sims Lip N232 Paradise / Giulietta Sims Rounded Square Medium Glossy Nails

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hannahshattuck · 11 months ago

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The Caramel Latte Boy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

Rating: Gen

Art by: @estelior (view the amazing art here)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Sam Wilson/Natasha Romanov, Slight Age Difference, Coffee Shops, Barista Steve Rogers, Shrinkyclinks, Beefy Bucky Barnes

Summary: Everyone knows their soulmate by their twentieth birthday, some know as early as sixteen. For Steve, his twentieth is three days away and if he doesn’t meet his soulmate by then the chances of having one drastically lowers. For twenty-three year old Bucky, he’s accepted the fact he most likely doesn’t have a soulmate. Moving from Indiana to New York for a change of scenery proves to be the best decision he’s made.

Written for @buckybarnesevents ShrinkyClinks Double Bang 2023

“Caramel latte for Jamie!” Steve yells through the bustle of the morning rush. Being a barista for his best friends coffee shop, Widow’s, is the highlight of Steve’s life. He gets to meet many people from different walks of life. Business men on their way to work, suburban moms whose toddlers are always causing a ruckus, college students who run on caffeine and empty promises from professors; it’s never a dull moment at Widow’s.

“Peppermint mocha for Lisa!” Steve yelled again as he set another drink on the counter. A man walked up to the counter and smiled. “Hi, how can I help you?”

“You have a drink for Jamie?”

Steve grabbed the caramel latte he set down previously. “Here you go, sir.”

“Thanks, doll.” The man, Jamie, smiled and winked. Steve cursed his Irish genes as he felt his cheeks heat up, his face most likely turning tomato red.

Steve watched Jamie leave until someone clears their throat. The barista turned his attention to a woman who could rival any Karen.

“My drink?” She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Steve.

“For?”

“Lisa. Are you stupid?”

Steve slid her drink to her. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Steve blinked as the lady walked out. Oh well. Some people were just destined to be rude. Steve turned back to the espresso machine and continued making drinks while thinking about that Jamie guy. His storm gray eyes, his brown hair that was tied in a bun at the nape of his neck, the burgundy henley that hugged his arms and chest, and those jeans that hugged tree trunk thighs. Steve felt a stirring in his groin that was definitely not work appropriate even if he was behind a counter.

As Steve went through the motions for the rest of the day, he wondered if Jamie would come in again or if it was a one time thing. Maybe Widow’s was close to his work and he was running late? Maybe he’s just visiting the area? Either way Steve hopes to see him again.

_________________

“Caramel latte for Jamie!” Steve couldn’t help the smile on his face as he called the order to someone who became his favorite customer. Jamie always ordered the same drink and sometimes for a food item. But the drink order never changed. This afternoon was slow for the employees of Widow’s. Since the weather was nice most people were hanging out at the park across the street which caused the tables to be available.

When Jamie walked in, he placed his order as usual but instead of waiting for the drink and then leaving, he placed himself at a table towards the back of the shop. He pulled out a book from the backpack on the floor and opened it to start reading. Steve couldn’t tell the title from his spot behind the counter but made a mental note to ask Jamie before he left.

Unfortunately, a rush of customers came in and Steve didn’t get a chance to ask Jamie about his book. Hopefully next time Jamie comes in Steve can ask. He might have to hold the caramel latte hostage until he can ask.

_________________

It was three weeks before Jamie came back in. It was slow so Steve was the only one out on the floor while his best friend and one of the owners, Sam, was working on business stuff. Steve smirked as Jamie walked up to the counter, backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders.

“Hi, welcome to Widow’s. What can I get started for you today?” Steve played up his customer service self more than usual.

Jamie seemed to like it, however, and played along. “Hi. This is my first time. What do you recommend?”

“Well I’ve heard the caramel latte is pretty good.” Steve smirked.

“Then I shall have one.”

Steve put in Jamie’s usual order, “And can I get a name?”

“Bucky.”

Steve looked up with furrowed eyebrows, “Bucky?”

“Yeah,” Jam-Bucky smiled. He placed a hand on the counter and leaned close to Steve. “That’s what I want pretty boys to call me.”

Steve’s brain whited out. 404 error. Brain not found. D-did this beautiful man just call Steve…pretty?

“Steve?”

Steve blinked and came back to his body to see Bucky watch him with concern. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if that was to forward.”

“No!” Steve responded almost too quickly. “No, you're completely fine. Just caught me off is all.”

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought I scared you off. Because I really do think you’re pretty and if it’s not too forward I’d love to get your number.”

Steve blushed as he smiled. “S-sure. I’ll write it on your cup like a cliche. How’s that sound?”

Bucky chuckled, which was music to Steve’s ears. “That sounds perfect, doll.”

Steve smiled as he told Bucky his total and took the payment from the other man. Steve made the drink with a smile on his face which Sam teases him about since he’s known Steve’s had an eye on their customer. Steve made sure to write his number on the cup before he called out Bucky’s drink.

“Caramel latte for,” and then Steve read out his number. Bucky laughed as he walked up to the counter. “Sorry, sir. I don’t think this is for you.” Steve pulled the drink back with a smile.

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

Both men gasped and grabbed their arms. They then looked at each other with wide eyes.

Bucky’s eyes welled up as he looked at Steve. “Y-you…” Bucky couldn’t finish his sentence in case it wasn’t true. At twenty-three, Bucky was certain he didn’t have a soulmate and the jerk on his arm would taunt him the rest of his life. He moved from Indiana because he couldn’t stand the sympathy he was getting from his family. A kid who lost both his parents and older sister at the age of twelve didn’t have a soulmate. Bucky could take his aunts trying to convince him there was someone out there when after one turned twenty the chance of having a soulmate was almost zero.

Steve looked between his arm, where punk was glowing slightly, and Bucky who looked like he was going to lose it any moment. Steve was ready to accept he didn’t have a soulmate once he turned twenty but he kept hoping. And now, standing behind the counter at his work staring into the eyes of the man he’s to spend the rest of his life with, Steve’s glad he held out hope.

“Oh my god.” Someone said which brought both Steve and Bucky back to the present. Steve turned his head and saw his other best friend, Natasha, standing at the front like she just walked in. “You’re each other’s soulmates.”

“Oh shit…” Sam said as he stared at the two men.

“Yeah,” Bucky’s voice cracked. “Sorry, I thought I didn’t have a soulmate.”

Steve smiled as his own eyes started to fill with happy tears. “Honestly I was starting to think I didn’t either. I turn twenty in three days and I was starting to accept there wasn’t someone out there.”

Bucky chuckled and wiped his eyes. “I’d really like to hug you if that’s okay.”

Steve smiled as he jumped over the counter into Bucky’s arms. Steve fit perfectly in Bucky’s arms with the top of his head coming to just under Bucky’s chin. The taller man placed a kiss on the top of Steve’s head and tightened his hold. Bucky hoped this wasn’t a dream and he’d wake up lonely in the bed of his apartment.

“Please tell me this is real.” Bucky mumbled.

Steve tightened his hold around Bucky’s waist. “It’s real.” Steve looked up at his soulmate. “Very real.” He said before placing a kiss on the lips that he’s dreamed about since Bucky first came into Widow’s.

Bucky pulled back from the kiss and smiled down at Steve. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

Steve smiled back, “I wouldn’t want anything else.”

#shrinkyclinksdoublebang2023 #hannahshattuck writings #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #stevebucky #shrinkyclinks

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