#cause despite my hectic availability

[forgaeven1]

starter call ! new starter call just bc i wanna write more !!! pls specify a muse(s) of ur choice, and feel free to interact with this at any point of time u see this <333

[lightseoul]

zeeeeee !! pretty please if you can, can you do number 13 ??? i love you so much and thank you in advance 🎀🫶🏻🥹🥹🥹🥹

anything for the love of my life @samtf <3 tagging also @irenne-stans, thank you for playing! this one was slightly out of my comfort zone but like i said, biodiversity is important or sumn like that...

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

warnings. minors dni, please!

13. "YOU DO KNOW THAT WE'RE IN PUBLIC, RIGHT?" (1.3k)

if you were to be completely frank, galas aren’t exactly your thing.

sure, the getting ready part can be extremely fun. there’s nothing like jamming to your favorite playlist while a full-on glam team bedazzles you with a shit ton of makeup and hairspray.

wearing designer gowns that cost way more than an arm and a leg for a night is great for pictures, too—pictures that you make sure to keep for days when the insecurities get to you more than they usually do and you need a reminder that you are a badass.

being able to reunite with your pro-hero friends is also an added bonus. you rarely get to see each other mainly because of their hectic and often conflicting schedules—usually, when most of the group are miraculously available, one or two are either assigned to an overseas mission or get called as an emergency contact.

but right now, as you’re moments from pulling up to the red carpet of the annual heroes’ gala, you wish for nothing more than to be in your comfy pajamas and baggy t-shirt, snuggled in your king-sized bed under a freshly washed duvet cover, finally making a dent on that new book you just picked up until you can’t keep your eyes open.

you take a shaky inhale, bracing yourself for the impending flash of cameras and the unfailingly overwhelming paparazzi experience.

your third year of this, and it’s still not getting any easier.

you sometimes forget why you endure this kind of torture.

but then that familiar, gruff voice reaches your ears.

“you okay?”

you look to your left and you’re instantly reminded of your why.

the smile that breaches your features is instinctive and not at all strained, despite the anticipatory anxiety stewing in your gut. you can’t help it—not when you’re met with the sight of him—all dapper in a freshly minted black suit with his usually unruly ash blonde hair styled and pushed back, revealing his handsome forehead.

you drink in the view a bit more, eyes roving over his face and down to his torso then back up.

you feel your smile growing.

“i am now.”

as if on cue, a tinge of scarlet shows up high on bakugou’s cheeks, and the man averts his gaze, evidently flustered.

“shut up.”

a delighted laugh erupts from you, which only causes the pro-hero who’s now staring at the road ahead of you, to flush even more.

relaxing into your seat, you sit in comfortable silence for a few more minutes until you finally arrive at the designated drop-off point, tens of cameramen and women pointed towards the car you’re in, all in anticipation for the arrival of #2 pro-hero dynamight.

you’re peering through the tinted window to your right when you feel a hand cover yours, and you shift to see bakugou looking at you expectantly.

“ready?”

taking your nod as the signal, bakugou opens the door to his left and gracefully steps out of the vehicle. almost instantaneously, the flashes and clicks of the cameras go off, and you find yourself having to squint from the waves of light that permeate through the barrier separating you from the crowd.

you’re shielded from all the ruckus in a matter of seconds, however, when bakugou arrives just outside where you’re sitting. he knocks on the door twice—in warning—like he’s done the last two times you’ve been his plus-one, before grabbing the handle and officially revealing you to the press.

a new surge of camera flashes greets you, and you fight the urge to scrunch up your eyes. the pro-hero offers you a hand, which you happily take, legs wobbly as you extend a heeled foot onto the pavement below. the gown you went with for the evening wasn’t the most forgiving in terms of movement, the high slit being the only reason why you even have mobility in your lower region in the first place.

once you’re stable on your two feet, bakugou completely encases the hand of yours he’s been holding with his, before dropping them low between the two of you and leading you toward the main red carpet.

you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles of your satin burnt orange gown with your free hand as you walk, acutely aware of the tens of eyes on you. you hear a man shout your boyfriend’s name, then another, and another who throws in yours, too.

you plaster on a smile when you hear them call out your name, like you’ve been instructed to by bakugou’s pr manager.

eventually, bakugou stops right at the center of the photo-op area, and you follow suit, pausing to stand at his right. you put forward your outer leg, the one that’s revealed under the slit, in order to elongate your form. at least, that’s what mina advised you to do while you were getting ready together back then for your first-ever red carpet event.

the motion prompts bakugou to glance at you, or your exposed leg, really, before mimicking your movement and forwarding his outer leg.

and that’s when you notice it.

“babe,” you start, “your—”

you turn toward the man, deciding it’s better if you just do the job yourself, before bending down to quickly tie his shoelaces. it takes you a minute, what with the heavily restricting fabric you’re wearing, but you eventually get it done.

when you straighten back up, though, you’re not greeted with a thanks.

instead, bakugou’s looking everywhere except at you, and that shade of scarlet from earlier is now back, decorating his beautiful features.

“what—”

you pause when bakugou shifts awkwardly beside you, and you barely catch him just as he hastily adjusts his suit pants.

the suit pants that are seemingly getting tighter by the second…

…because of his growing bulge.

you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to—you snort the second you see it, which immediately grants you a side-eye from the man.

“shut up.”

“bro,” you cough out, “are you being for real right now?”

“shut the fuck up,” he hisses, just imperceptibly enough so that your spectators can’t read his mouth.

you’re failing to fight the grin that’s threatening to take over your entire face. “you do know that we’re in public, right?”

“this is your fucking fault,” he spits, his body now angled a bit more toward you, maybe in an attempt to hide what little modesty he has left.

you gape at him. “wha—how?”

at that, he turns his back toward the cameramen just enough to shoot you a glare without them seeing. “it’s that fucking v-neck.”

he pauses for a second, red now creeping down his neck and his gaze dipping down to your chest before he spews, incredulous: “are you even wearing a bra?”

you’re about to tell him you had to forego the undergarment because of the relatively plunging neckline, but you decide last minute there’s something you want to try out.

shifting slightly so that bakugou’s somewhat facing the crowd again, you lean forward, invading his space just until your mouth’s a breadth away from his ear. the movement is so minuscule that you almost miss it, but the pro-hero shudders when your breath tickles his skin.

hook.

line.

and sinker.

“…i guess we’ll find out, huh?”

and just like that, you pull away and wrap an arm around the man’s waist, once again posing for the cameras.

and as you feel him turn and wrap his arm around your waist a few beats after, you find that, if anything, at least you’re sure of one thing that’s going to get you through the rest of this cursed evening.

and that’s seeing the exact look on his face later in the news.

[rotatedaxis]

such love for "you're begging for tissues, all you get is confetti" like, you're in need of something so simple but you're given this ineffectual thing that can't actually help you at all. it just reads as your needs are forgotten or minimised to their smallest possible point and if that isn't being treated seriously then it's mocked or can be dealt with by something small. in line with the song, your nose is bleeding and the best thing for this is tissues, but all you have is confetti, just this little thing that really isn't going to help whatsoever but it's all the help you're gonna get. And the way this comes just after "but [your friends are] all bloodsucking vampires", just adds bc it's like, well they're getting something out of your struggles but you, it's safe to say, are not having a good time. it gives this impression of people taking joy in your suffering but acting as though they aren't or are doing the absolute barest minimum in giving something that might help but, in reality, doesn't, if anything makes it worse, emotionally-speaking.

and maybe it's just me, but the whole thing feels very defeated. like whoever the character of the song is, has just been putting up with all sorts of crap for however long and is just exhausted by it all, but cover it all up "wave hello 'cause nothing's wrong" and take their "heart off of their sleeve" and just act carefree and like everything's okay when nothing is, just bury it all, they don't "get tragic" anymore (perhaps suggesting that they, along with taking their heart off their sleeve, they don't show any of their emotions anymore)

. again, maybe it's me, but "i'm gonna die before you, it's the first race that i'll win" doesn't inspire a particularly hopeful ending and maybe that ties in with being carefree and "hectic", suddenly - people who know it'll be over soon tend feel okay about it, without getting too deep into it right here right now.

maybe, the whole lot reads as a bullying narrative. talking about giving the kids "something to shout back / as the books fall out of my rucksack" and not being "everything to everyone", by trying to please everyone you please no one, so that type of people-pleasing behaviour never worked out for our character, and just resulted in, at least, teasing. "I don't take my phone off silent anymore" could suggest, if you follow this theme, that they don't want to see what people are sending them or saying to them, so you could call them but they probably won't see it or notice. And then, of course, "while your friends sing happy birthday / but they're all bloodsucking vampires" suggests fake friends and people who turn their backs when you're in need, when you'd give them your time and energy and care - they act like they care, shallow things like singing happy birthday, but won't actually help when it's needed, like our character's nosebleed for which they 'beg' for tissue, but all they get is confetti. (and the word beg suggests that they're really trying to get what they need, but to no avail, so they just have to make do with what they can get their hands on)

anyway. I don't know how much or how little sense any of this makes. all I know is all you get is confetti is an excellent song that has me in a chokehold (despite only being out for not even 5 hours at this point) and it deserves to be heard and read into and loved.

[mafrah-mga2022mi5019]

Research on the topics

I find body image, artificial intelligence and ageing to be the three most fascinating themes. I'll start researching each of them, before settling on one of them. 

Body Image

What is body image?

Body image is a person’s perceptions, feelings, beliefs, thoughts and actions towards one’s own body. This includes how you feel about your appearance; what you think about your body itself, such as your height and weight; and how you feel within your own skin. Body image also includes how you behave as a result of your thoughts and feelings. You may have a positive or negative body image. Body image is not always related to your weight or size. 

Women with a positive body image are more likely to have good physical and mental health. Girls and women with negative thoughts and feelings about their bodies are more likely to develop certain mental health conditions, such as eating disorders and depression

A negative body image may also lead to low self-esteem, which can affect many areas of your life. You may not want to be around other people or may obsess constantly about what you eat or how much you exercise. 

Artificial Intelligence

What is AI?

AI is a concept that has been around, formally, since the 1950s, when it was defined as a machine's ability to perform a task that would've previously required human intelligence.

AI comes in different forms that have become widely available in everyday life. The smart speakers on your mantle with Alexa or Google voice assistant built-in are two great examples of AI. Other good examples are popular AI chatbots, such as ChatGPT, the new Bing Chat, and Google Bard. 

The journey of AI started in the 1950s with the pioneering work of Alan Turing, who proposed the Turing Test to determine if a machine could mimic human intelligence. In the 1960s, AI research gained momentum with the development of the first AI programming language, LISP, by John McCarthy. Early AI systems focused on symbolic reasoning and rule-based systems, which led to the development of expert systems in the 1970s and 1980s. In the 2000s, AI research expanded into new areas, including natural language processing, computer vision, and robotics, paving the way for today's AI revolution. 

Ageing

In terms of my research on aging, I made the decision to focus on the loneliness and feelings associated with getting older rather than the science of aging.

As people get older, they experience a number of losses that are unavoidable yet severely test their feeling of interconnectedness. A person's number of friends or how frequently they visit their loved ones can sometimes be used to oversimplify or minimize loneliness. Midlife crisis is a time when adults contemplate their mortality and the waning years they have left to enjoy life and this is also common during ageing. Fewer than one-fifth of Americans say they actually experienced a midlife crisis. Although experiences differ from person to person, researchers have been able to pinpoint general patterns of poorer sleep, more stress, and reduced happiness in midlife. It is already evident that midlife is a crucial period that shapes the course of aging. Because of this, self-care in midlife is crucial, despite the hectic schedules caused by a growing number of roles. The importance of obtaining proper sleep and stress management cannot be overstated. By taking these actions, people may be able to transform their "midlife crisis" into "midlife potential."

I want to explore the phases of human life from birth to death, life events and the emotions behind them. Different duties and expectations are associated with each phase, which, of course, depends on the person and the culture. Children like learning and playing, and they eagerly anticipate entering their teenage years. Preteens are eager to transition into adolescence as they start to test their independence. Teenagers look forward to the opportunities and difficulties that maturity will bring. Adults increasingly prioritize starting families, advancing their jobs, and traveling on their own. Finally, a lot of folks look forward to retirement as a fantastic time to enjoy life without as much stress from job and family obligations.

Although all three of these subjects sound worthwhile for investigation, I'm more drawn to the one on body image since I can relate to it better and because I believe I can successfully use it as the basis for a series of motion graphics. I'm also more interested in the theme of aging since I think I can depict a range of emotions and the progression of human ageing.

[fridaynightmuses]

"That's good." she said, falling into her wife's touch. Having her head rubbed after a long day was easily her favorite thing -and very much needed. Hearing was a lot of work, as easy as it looked for the outside looking in. She was glad that at least she had the chance to disconnect and just be in her own bubble if she wanted to. "You have no idea. I swear, it was like everyone needed my attention today." she said, a long heavy sigh leaving her lips. Between being needed at work and having to play mediator with her staff afterwards, she was spent. But thankful to at least be home with her wife.

Their work schedule did not aligned as much as she would like it to. After she was promoted to editor, it only became more hectic. Sylvia was working later and weekends made no difference in her career. Deadlines needed to be met and she needed to be available to her staff. At times she wondered if she made the right decision by taking the editor position. While it was everything she has been working her ass for, it was also causing distance between there. Surely she wasn't the only one noticing it.

A soft sigh left her lips shortly before their lips sweetly met for a brief moment. Despite her wife's reassuring words, she couldn't help but be consumed with guilt. "I'm going to make it up to you, tomorrow...And tonight." she chuckled, pressing a small peck on her lips. "You have a long way to go? I can help you finish up here." the brunette said, pulling up the closest chair so she could grab a seat next to her Jia.

THE TWO OF THEM, sitting in their kitchen, sharing a life together, was everything jia had ever wished for. the safety and love they had built together felt like a dream most days. sylvia was perfect for her, to her. yet these days it felt that the love they shared was also interrupted by a monotonous silence. too often they missed each other, jia out the door just as sylvia woke up. sylvia leaving for an important impromptu meeting just as jia put her car in park. it wasn't what jia wanted for them. "it's mostly grading papers and looking over next week's lesson plans. nothing that's too overwhelming." she gave syl a sweet smile, feeling both thankful and dejected as the silence that stretched between them. instead of opening her mouth again jia reached out, bridged the gap between them, and gently rubbed the spot she knew was bound to ache after a long day like this one. "you tired, my love ?" she asked, making sure to speak slowly, enunciating each word. jia could feel the guilt emanating from her wife, which was the last thing she wanted. she leaned back, hurried to explain. "i made us dinner ... and they turned into leftovers for us." she leaned forward and kissed sylvia gently on the mouth. a soft press of lips against the others. "you didn't know, sweetheart. i could've called or texted to let you know."

[bokubear]

COULD BE US :: stay here

waking up in another someone’s bed shouldn’t have been such a hectic awakening considering how manic this week had been. despite that, you still jumped to your feet—looking around like a drunken bar-goer.

in front of your eyes you surveyed soha, moe, and hiroko sneakily tiptoeing out the dorm as quietly as they could manage. soha spared a glance your way, winking in your direction before slipping out the door.

attempting to go back to sleep, you flopped back on the bed with a heavy sigh. the ace continued sawing logs next to you, a little bit more toned down then last night; yet still thunderous.

'sleep my butt' you rolled your eyes, already knowing you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep while his entourage was happening. so instead, you resorted to texting soha with questions.

feeling a bit guilty about disregarding soha’s demands so easily, you tried. you really did. to no avail.

“bwuh?” the now awake bed-head looked pretty jarred, blinking rapidly. it reminded you of yourself when you woke up earlier, stirring a giggle from your throat.

“well good morning sleepyhead.” you mused, the man in question stretching with a yawn. “‘mornin.” he replied, gravelly voice doing absolute wonders for your ears.

“i haven’t slept this long since i was a kid.” he grasped his phone, gaping at the clock displaying 11:00am. “i think i could say the same.” you smiled at how cute he looked, rubbing his eyes with balled fists.

“shit!” he screeched, throwing himself from the mattress—frantically searching through his drawers. at his outburst you jumped up as well, concerned at what had caused such a reaction.

“i have to meet jina to go shopping today! crappp i’m gonna be late!” kou cried, unknown to your heart shattering in a billion pieces for a time you couldn’t count anymore.

“please don’t go. can you stay here?” that familiar shaking returning to your hands, gazing up at him with fragile eyes. “i’ll only be gone for a few hours tops.” his brows scrunch in confusion. “please, i don’t want to be by myself here.” it’s pitiful, really but you can’t bring yourself to stop. the image of someone breaking in again haunts your soul in every aspect. “why? i won’t be long y/n.” he reminds again, his obliviousness scratching your last nerve. “can’t you just understand already!? why all this is happening? why i wanted to stay with you after the break-in? it’s no coincidence kou! i’m scared! i’m really fucking scared… and i feel safe with you, so at least acknowledge my feelings here! a little consideration wouldn’t hurt.” tears well up in your eyes, close to breaking.

bokuto takes a deep breath, assessing the situation to the best of his abilities. akaashi was good with these kind of things, not him. “i need a minute.” he calls, scrolling to find akaashi’s number as he steps from the room—giving you a guilty look.

you can’t even bring yourself to be mad at him, no anger bubbling at your throat. in the angers position is replaced with denial. that’s it, it’s denial. in denial because of all this shit he’s put you through. a part of you wants nothing to do with him. another still aches for his affection. denial.

:::

sypnosis ; a new transfer student arrived at school, everyone positively enamored by her every move. she seems like a sweetheart you’ll admit, but when bokuto kotaro—your best friend for many many years asks you for help to win her heart you oblige—wanting nothing more than bokuto to be happy. but do you really want him to be happy with her when he’s been your crush practically your entire life ?

notes ; poor y/n being dragged along :(

✧ previous : next : masterlist

taglist is currently open for this series !

taglist ; @fictionsbitch @sftbunnyy @kazuhas-unwrittenpoem @jojowantstocry @softtashoney @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou

* if your @ is in black i was unable to tag you

maak

plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

[cheolbooluvr]

suffocating.

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pairing: seungcheol x reader

genre: major angst sorry (you can thank gyu for this) BUT there is a happy ending :]

word count: 3.2k *twitches*

warnings: profanity, mentions of nausea, heartbreak

a/n: PHEW i am BACK baby! um it's been a very hectic few weeks w traveling, trying to get over writer's block, etc etc, but i have returned! hope y'all haven't forgotten abt me :( huge thanks to @gyukult for spurring this on in da dms and also being my beta reader (eep i've never had beta readers x_x). look, lowkey, i hope this makes you hurt anyways, plz enjoy and let me know what you think! feedback via reblogs or asks is ALWAYS welcome and appreciated :)

my masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

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Moving in together with your boyfriend was supposed to be the best thing for your relationship, but your current situation with Seungcheol said otherwise.

Obviously, it was established early on that you two would have lives outside of each other, as all healthy relationships should. You were lucky to land your dream job as a graphic designer; however, it also meant spending long hours at the office only to return after the sun had completely set, the stars (and streetlamps) your only guide home. Seungcheol wasn’t any less busy — his job constantly kept him on his toes, always running this way and that whenever he was asked. In an attempt to balance your uneven schedules, you were able to convince your manager to work from home, which, ideally, meant you would be able to see Seungcheol more and finally spend some time with him.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

Most mornings, he was already long gone by the time you woke up, but if you were lucky to catch him just in time, he’d give you a quick peck on the forehead and be on his way. By the time you got home, he’d have dinner prepared and you’d spend the little time you had in the evenings together, cuddled on the couch and catching up on the latest episode of Hospital Playlist. The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, and despite not seeing each other often, you overlooked it as a temporary inconvenience, one that would end someday. But ‘someday’ never came.

You would come home to an empty apartment, dark and solemn, reflective of the state your relationship would soon be in. At first, you didn’t mind the quiet—though, if you were being totally honest, it was nice to have your loving boyfriend waiting for you the moment you stepped through the door, dinner prepped on the table. Just for you. But soon, those one-off, quiet nights started becoming more regular, Seungcheol making it a habit to stumble into your home past 2 AM, those small slivers of your evenings spent together no longer an option now that he decided to stay out until an ungodly hour. He’d shuffle into bed, trying—but failing—to be quiet, the stench of alcohol overcoming your senses to the point you’d wake up before he was even under the covers.

All you wanted was to spend time with your boyfriend, was that too much to ask?

Apparently it was, because on one particular night, you decided that enough was enough. You had been working overtime for the last week on a project with a tight deadline. To make matters worse, your team lead had dumped all of the heavy work on you, causing your stress levels to skyrocket. Every waking moment of your life was spent on this stupid project—it was to the point that you were running on pure adrenaline, your haphazard state indicative of your lack of self-care. Your tired eyes were readjusting that one text box, trying to line it up perfectly in the center, but to no avail. The shrill beeping of your lock snapped you out of your hyperfocus, your attention now on the time in the bottom of your screen: 3:00 AM.

“You’re still up?” Seungcheol questioned, his voice giddy from the remnants of alcohol in his system. He was drunk. Again.

“Where were you?” you asked curtly.

“With Jeonghan and the boys,” he replied.

There it was.

You didn’t mind if he hung out with his friends, because after all, you two had lives outside of each other. But this was becoming too much. You and Seungcheol had gotten into fights before, but they were always over small, petty things, quickly resolved once you sat down and talked to each other. However, not all relationships can be perfect, and this on top of the stress of your work was just too much to handle.

“Of course you were,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

You didn’t think he heard, but he heard it alright. Loud and clear. “What? Is there a problem with that?”

You sighed, slamming your mouse too aggressively on your desk as you leaned back in your chair. “Yeah, kind of.”

“Oh, so I’m not allowed to hang out with my friends anymore?”

“I never said that.”

“But you implied it.”

“For fucks sake, Choi Seungcheol—”

Oh. There it was. He hated it when you called him by his full name.

“What do you want from me?” he asked, clearly annoyed that you were having this argument at 3 AM, though you could say the same.

“I just want to spend time with you. That’s all.”

“We live together.”

You and Seungcheol were both incredibly stubborn people, the type to never back down, especially in situations like this. There were even times when petty, little arguments about things like pineapple on pizza got too heated solely because the two of you were too prideful to respect each other’s opinions.

“So? I barely see you anymore,” you quipped back.

“This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Is it? Is it, Choi Seungcheol?” There it was again. You sounded like his mom scolding and nagging him. You continued, “You’re always gone when I wake up, and you’re never home before I fall asleep. Tell me, when am I supposed to see you anymore? And to top it all off, you always reek of alcohol when you come home. Am I supposed to just be okay with that?”

“You know what?” Seungcheol ran his hands through his dark hair, slumping against the wall from exhaustion. “I’m tired.”

“And you think I’m not?”

“Stop. Just stop,” he countered, shutting his eyes partly in frustration, the other part of him unwilling to see the hurt on your face. Because of this, he didn’t see you hit your breaking point—tears gushing from the corners of your eyes, frustration manifesting in your body as indicated by the tightness in your chest. “I need space.”

“Seriously?” you asked, genuinely wondering if this was happening right now. You felt like a fish caught in a net, trying your best to untangle yourself from the messy ropes of emotions, only to get stuck even more. Up until this point, Seungcheol had been your entire world, and there was no doubt in your mind or heart that you loved him dearly. However, in this moment, he was the last person you wanted to be talking to.

“Yeah. I can’t do this.”

“Fine,” you huffed, your voice barely coherent. “Let’s break up.”

The words came out of your mouth with such ease that Seungcheol tensed up, clenching his jaw in response. “For real?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“It was your idea.” You raised your eyebrow at him accusingly.

He took a deep breath, trying to find some possible solution to undo everything, but it was too late. The damage had been done. “Fine.” Just as easily as you proposed the split, he agreed to it.

“Fine!” You snapped, jolting from your seat towards the bedroom where you pulled a duffel bag from the back of the closet. It took a moment for Seungcheol to register what you were doing, the sound of the metal from his hangers scraping against the pole that held them up. His footsteps were heavy against the hardwood floor, dragging as he brought himself to the doorway where he watched you angrily throw heaps of clothing into the bag without a second thought. Perhaps the healthy thing would have been to sit down and talk things over like adults, but your pride wouldn’t let you do that. Not tonight. You weren’t sure if you had gotten all his stuff, but whatever, you could pack it in a box for later.

Storming into the bathroom, you took a good look around, grabbing his toothbrush, hair products, and his cologne—the one you loved most, the one that smelled of citrus, jasmine and patchouli, the one that took you back to a time when your love had been fresh, so fresh that you remembered him spraying it on the hoodies he would let you “borrow” so that you would always be reminded of him when he was away—before marching back out to the bedroom and shoving it into his bag.

In all of your years of dating, Seungcheol had never seen you this angry. Sure, you’d been annoyed at him, snapped at him a few times, but it was always quickly resolved. This time was different. He could see the fire in your eyes, the tension of it all sobering him up in no time. You were always a determined person, and he had admired that about you; now, he was afraid.

“There,” you said, zipping the bag up and throwing it at him. He looked at you incredulously. “Go to Jeonghan’s since you love spending so much time with him. You can pick up the rest of your things tomorrow.”

“Are you seriously doing this?” Seungcheol dropped the bag down in the chair beside the door.

“You’re the one who said you needed space.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, space. I didn’t ask to break up.”

“So, how much space do you need then?” .

“What?”

“I barely see you and you say you need more space?” You were tired of repeating yourself, the word ‘space’ coming from your mouth like a broken record. All you wanted was for him to hear you, to listen to you

“I…”

“If you want to break up, then just say it. Stop being such a coward.”

“A coward?”

“Do you hate living with me that much? Am I suffocating you?”

The answer was obviously ‘no,’ but Seungcheol soon realized where he went wrong. He didn’t hate living with you—in fact, he loved it, telling all of his friends like an excited puppy the moment you two picked up your keys. But work had gotten so stressful lately. When Jeonghan offered to go out for drinks, he didn’t think much of it because all he wanted was an escape from reality, and it continued to happen until it started becoming a habit. Soon, “Do you want to go out for drinks?” stopped being a question and started becoming an assumption, the two of them joining their coworkers every damn night for several rounds of beer and soju. He knew you had your own stress to deal with, and he didn’t want to burden you with his own problems. This was his way to relax, but he didn’t realize that in the process, he had been neglecting you this whole time.

“So, you do hate living with me?” Your head was spinning with the crushing realization that your world was about to be in shambles the moment your relationship with the man you loved the most came to an end.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly. You hesitated, Cheol.”

Oof. If his heart hadn’t been broken already, he was sure it shattered right then and there. You were no longer angry, just sad, tears trickling down your face like a steady stream.

“Why do we need to break up?” he questioned.

“You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re asking for a lot.”

“I’m literally not asking you for anything but to spend time with me. Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve gone on a date? Just us? We’ve been so busy, but I guess you’ve been having too much fun with your friends to notice.”

“I’ve been stressed with work, and we go out to relax. Is that a crime?”

“And I haven’t been stressed?” Your hands hit your own chest with such force that there was sure to be a bruise, but you were too caught up in the moment to realize. “I’ve been staying up late trying to finish this stupid project, and to top it all off, worrying about our relationship. Apparently, I’m the only one who cares anymore.”

“Hey, wait, that’s not fair. I care about our relationship.”

“It sure as hell doesn’t seem like it.”

“No. That’s not fair. I… I...” He faltered. Of course he cared about your relationship, you were one of the best—no, the best thing to ever happen to him. It was just that he wasn’t sure what to say or do in that moment that wouldn’t royally fuck up your entire relationship, though it might have already been too late.

“You what, Cheol?”

He let out a heavy sigh and looked you in the eyes. “I’ll be right back.” He turned around, walking to the front door once again.

“Where are you going at this hour?”

“I just need to take a walk,” he replied. You followed his movement, stopping at the door frame, your hands taking hold of the duffel and throwing it at his feet.

“If you leave, don’t bother coming back,” you yelled out, retreating into the bedroom and slamming the door. For a couple minutes, you stood by, listening to see if he would actually leave. Maybe he would just sleep on the couch and you could talk things out in the morning, but that thought quickly dissolved when you heard the door shut and the beeps that followed.

You were heaving, the tears no longer trickling but flooding down your cheeks. Inside, your body felt like it was being pricked by a million needles, your temperature rising with every second that passed. Your body became too heavy to stand, so you collapsed onto the bed. Aside from the horrible feeling that you had just broken up with your boyfriend, you weren’t used to laying in an empty bed. Not like this. At the very least, Seungcheol had always been there to fill the space. Or so you thought.

It was almost surreal how fast your entire relationship went crumbling in the span of thirty minutes. Everything from your heart to your stomach felt tight, the nausea you were experiencing only adding to the pain. Despite everything that just happened, you secretly hoped Seungcheol would walk in at any moment.

But he didn’t.

———

They say sleep is a temporary escape from your problems, and luckily for you, you fell asleep in no time, your body exhausted from the stress and crying. You woke up early the next morning, that same unsettling feeling in your stomach still there like a parasite eating away at you. In your daze, you barely heard the opening and closing of the front door, not registering that Seungcheol was home until he was already in the room.

“Hi,” he spoke softly.

“Hi,” you croaked, your voice raspy.

He rounded the corner to your side of the bed, kneeling to get a better look at you. You tried hiding your face under the covers, but he was too fast, catching a glimpse of your swollen eyes. “Did you cry?”

You said nothing, the answer clearly obvious, and even he wondered why that was the first thing he said to you after the events that transpired just hours earlier.

“I have breakfast,” he continued on.

“I don’t want it,” you mumbled. You were still nauseous, fearing that eating anything would just result in you hunched over the toilet. However, Seungcheol misinterpreted your words as you not wanting to do anything with him.

“I’ll give you some space,” he said, standing up. Your hand had never moved faster, grabbing onto his shirt before he got too far. You sat up, wrapped your hands around his waist, and pressed your face into his back.

“Don’t go.”

Seungcheol paused. He didn’t realize two simple words could cause his heart to stop completely. His hands found yours, pulled them apart and off his body. It was as if he was saying, ‘Don’t touch me,’ but soon he was sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapping you in his arms.

You found comfort in his touch, gripping onto his shirt as if to say, “I’ll never let you go ever again,” because you wouldn’t. In the short time Seungcheol had left, you couldn’t picture a life without him, without his love, without his cheesy smile that made you giddy and his stupid dad jokes that never failed to make you laugh. A life without Seungcheol just wasn’t a life worth living.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “I don’t know what came over me.” You said nothing, just taking in his warmth and presence. You nestled into his chest, his arms tightening around you.

“We never see each other anymore.”

“I know,” he replied, patting your hair down, love in every movement. “I’m sorry I got mad at you.”

“I’m sorry, too. I should have brought it up sooner.”

“Yeah, you should have,” Seungcheol teased, though a little too soon. You pulled away from him and punched him square in his chest, eliciting a low “oof” from your boyfriend.

“You’re a jackass, you know that?”

“Oh, I know alright. But you know what?”

“What?” He was staring you straight in the eyes now, his glistening in the early morning light, your reflection visible in the darkness of his irises. You would have told him he looked like he had the whole world in his eyes, and he would have told you that he did, that you were his entire world, his whole universe, that you were every star and planet that ever existed.

He didn’t have to explain that to you though, because all it took were three little words: “I love you.”

You smiled, still drained from crying, but anything was better than tears at this point, Seungcheol thought.

“I love you, too,” you replied, placing a gentle kiss on his pretty lips.

“So, breakfast?”

“I don’t want it.”

Oh. So, when you said you didn’t want ‘it,’ you meant breakfast, and not your relationship. Okay, noted.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really, my stomach hurts.”

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

“I don’t feel hungry.”

“Do you want me to make you tea?”

“Please,” you told him, pouting so cutely he had to give you another kiss. And another. And one on your right cheek. And one on your left cheek. And another on your forehead until you were giggling from his light touches. “Cheol,” you whined. “Stop.”

“I can’t!” And he didn’t. He kept going and going until finally you threw the blanket off to go make the tea yourself. “Wait, stay in bed. I’ll go make it.” He stood up quickly, leaving the door open so he could make kissy faces at you from the kitchen as he heated up the water and chopped ginger to aid with your stomach ache.

When he returned with the tea in an extra large mug, just as you liked it, he slipped under the covers with you, the side of his bed no longer empty. You brought the cup up to your lips, the steam becoming increasingly warmer with every second that passed. Puckering your lips, you inhaled and exhaled in hopes that it might cool the tea down a little faster, Seungcheol watching your every movement carefully.

He loved you. So much. And from here on out, he would never let you forget it. He would tell you in any and every way he could, whether out loud, on sticky notes, by making you breakfast, or buying you your favorite flowers from time to time. Or all the time. With you, he never felt like he was suffocating. He loved you because you were like a breath of fresh air: every inhale exuberant, every exhale calming. Choosing to love you was as easy as breathing, and you were the oxygen he needed to live on.

[ayazure]

Gorou was a busy man. Given that he is the top general of the resistance left him with little to none when it comes to free time. He feels most especially bad for this, since you were his lover. He absolutely eggs on himself whenever thinking of you–all alone in the residence you shared, waiting for too long.

Meanwhile you, you didn't mind at all. You were always willing to wait. You were also actually willing to help him in any way. Giving him tons of comfort to relieve his stress.

Despite the amount of will you want to put in, some things are still awkward for you both. Referring to the fact that you guys have only been together for atleast 2 months means that you two are still limited to a few skinships. With this, the only comfort you gave him were nice meals and flowery words.

We could refer to that as the both of you being a little too shy to indulge in couple traditions just yet.

However this time, you actually wanted to try something.

Gorou then came home after spending a hectic day in the resistance camp at Fort Fujitou. Fatigue was evident on his body, him greeting you with a slouched figure. His head bent down with dripping sweat.

"Oh my ! Are you okay?" You immediately ask as you sprint towards him. He nods unhurriedly, reaching for the cup of ice water that you brought.

"Yeah, just a bit tired..." He replies almost inaudibly. You worriedly led him to the couch for him to rest. He sits just well, he lays his head on the tip of the backrest.

Although, he sits properly again. Wistfully facing you and making an eye contact. "I'm truly sorry y/n, we were supposed to go to the city today but the shogun army held us up" he genuinely apologized.

You shook your head, grabbing his arms in reassurance. "I tell you, it's fine, there are other available days so.."

He shook his head as well, the difference is it's a bit more intense. "No, I wanted to make up to you.. that's why I worked extra hard today to ask her excellency for a day off tomorrow"

You almost teared up because of what you just heard. You become extremely emotional whenever someone does something just for you. Your heart is filled with gratitude.

"you.. you didn't have to you know.. I don't know what to say"

Gorou's gaze at you was soft, showing you how much he loves you. The moment you said yes to him, he swore to himself, making a promise to do everything for you. To treat you like how a knight does to their monarch.

"you deserve everything my love, and I'm willing to give you that 'everything' "

You replied a gentle smile before whispering the word 'thank you'

You actually had a lot more to say. But maybe the atmosphere caused you two to immerse into the comfortable silence. The benign blow of the wind could be heard as it enters the open window. Crickets chirping into the deep night. As everyone bathes into the bask of the peaceful moon.

Gorou slowly tilts his head to rest on your shoulders. You somewhat twitch out of surprise but you let him be. You slipped your arm to reach Gorou's side. Hands stroking his caramel hair.

He hums tenderly as a response. After quite a while you subtly reach for his ears, purposely doing so in hopes of adding more comfort. This time his hums are a bit longer, signifying that he's currently enjoying your loving touch.

"That.. feels nice" He was actually a bit embarassed to admit it but the satisfaction was getting to him.. You continue to pet his fluffy ears.

"If you let me, I can comb your tail too some other time" You suggested. "Because I too, will do anything to ease your tiredness"

"I would definitely love that" Gorou was indeed satisfied knowing that his dreams finally came true. How he wasn't lonely anymore because of you. He now had someone to love and someone to love him. Someone who'd caress his ears and tails even though he denies liking the thought of it.

With the lit night and slow pounding heartbeats, you two found comfort in each other that night that would continue on as your relationship flourishes.

This was kinda short but.. I think it's lovely !! I'll correct any mistakes when I wake up<3

☆– this is a part of Amoureux, please check for more here :)

[rocorambles]

Jealousy

Pairing: Atsumu x Reader (Main), Osamu x Reader (Side)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Rape/Non-Con, Misuse of Duct Tape, Non-Con Bondage, Forced Breeding, Forced Impregnation, Delusional Mindset

Summary: Atsumu is determined to prove that he’s the better twin for you.    

The first time Atsumu meets you he doesn’t remember you so much as he gets stuck on the fact that Osamu is dating someone. Osamu is fucking dating someone and Atsumu is still here single and alone in his late twenties, not a girl anywhere even in sight. It makes him livid as he stares at the identical face gently smiling at you, affectionately holding your hand, looking so damn happy and content. 

What does he have that Atsumu doesn’t? A successful food chain? Cool. But is he a pro-athlete? A medal winning Olympic athlete? One of the best setters in the country? In the world? It’s infuriating to think about and as much as Atsumu loves volleyball, even he dreams of love, marriage, a family of his own late at night when he’s alone on a hotel bed, only Sakusa’s breathing from the other bed in the room keeping him company. 

And those thoughts consume him long after he bids farewell to Osamu and you and suddenly the MSBY Jackals are in an uproar as every team member takes turns being sexiled by their blond setter when they’re off at their away games, as Atsumu nonchalantly strolls into the locker rooms to prep for practice, back littered with scratch marks that Bokuto tries to shield from Hinata’s eyes when the orange haired athlete curiously asks when Atsumu got a cat. 

Girl after girl walks in and out of his bed, his life. Most never lasting more than a night, a few returning for a couple more rounds in the bedsheets, one even manages to interest him enough to grab a cup of coffee with. But it’s the same verdict every time. He’s good enough to fool around with and he’s great in bed, but Miya Atsumu is not husband material, not when he’s already married to volleyball. 

The rejection only fuels his inner turmoil and the green eyed monster inside of him grows and grows, festering and spreading throughout him the more he stops attempting his futile attempts and instead turns his energy to loitering around Osamu and you, inviting himself over for dinners after practice, trying his hand at helping you in the kitchen for brunch on the weekends, crashing in your guest bedroom to the point that Osamu and you gift him a spare key to your shared home. 

Neither of you think much of it, Osamu joking to you privately that this is just Atsumu being the needy emotional brother he really is while you’re just glad to be able to get to know Osamu’s family better. So none of you notice how brown eyes inquisitively trail after the both of you, watching how the two of you seamlessly work out both your hectic lives, never letting the long hours at your job or Osamu’s restaurant get in the way of your relationship, always directing a warm smile or gaze at the other despite how obviously exhausted or far away from a good mood you’re in. 

And Atsumu lets himself believe that this could be his as he hungrily stares at the way you gently caress his brother’s hand, the affection in your gaze as you tenderly kiss him on the lips, the playful wink you give his twin when you tell him you’re getting ready for bed. He lets himself dream that it’s him who you direct those loving gazes to as you cheerfully greet him in the morning, handing him a coffee made just the way he likes it, placing a plate full of delicious piping hot food in front of him. He lets his hand wander down his shorts at night, straining to hear every detail, every decibel of your moans as Osamu and you make love at night, closing his eyes and stroking his cock as he imagines it’s him who’s forcing those beautiful cries from your mouth. 

But it’s not all a picture perfect paradise and Atsumu carefully listens in, alerted by the raising voices he hears through the walls as more and more time passes by. He’d noticed the growing tension in the house, noticed how the two of you were less affectionate, almost awkwardly shuffling around each other when both of you were home from work these past few months. But he couldn’t think of what could have caused both of you to act so strangely, so suddenly, when everything had seemed so swell. 

Curiosity has him placing his ear on the wall and he winces when he hears you shout, anger and hurt in your voice that makes his heart clench painfully, asking when Osamu was going to propose, telling his brother how you’re sick of waiting, how you want to get married and have kids soon. Something shattering inside of him when your voice becomes small and hesitant. 

“I thought that’s what you wanted too, Osamu. Isn’t that why we decided to start living together?”

He expects his brother to leap at the opportunity, to reassure you, yes, absolutely yes, we can get married right away. He knows that if their positions were switched, that’s what he would be doing. But his jaw drops in disbelief, morphing into a scowl when Osamu pleads for you to calm down, to be patient. 

“I do want that. But just not right now.”

“If not now, when? We’re not getting any younger, Osamu.” 

“But my chain is in talks of expanding and there’s so much going on. I just don’t have time-”

There’s a heavy silence as Osamu is quick to snap his mouth shut and Atsumu knows he’s cursing himself for the slip of his tongue, already knows the next words that are going to come out of your mouth, words he himself is all too familiar with from his own past failed relationships. 

“You just don’t have time for us? Me?” 

“That’s not what I meant…”

But it’s too late and Atsumu flinches when he hears loud angry movement, Osamu’s voice imploring you to calm down and stop what you’re doing to no avail as you stomp out of the house, slamming the front door behind you as you make your way to a friend’s house to spend the night apart. 

No one speaks of that night after you return to the house the next day and the three of you continue as normal. Or at least as normal as you can be after an unresolved disagreement that your relationship ultimately hinges around continues ticking like a time bomb in everyone’s minds. And it finally counts down to zero when Osamu packs his bags and plants a cold chaste kiss on your lips before heading to the airport and making his way to seal the deal on the restaurant expansion that’s taken over his entire life. 

Maybe it’s Atsumu’s fault that the two of you are drunk out of your minds, sprawled out on the living room floor. Scratch that. It’s definitely Atsumu’s fault and he drunkenly smiles at how out of it you are, heart warming at the giddy genuine smile spread across your face, happiness in your eyes that he hasn’t seen ever since that argument Osamu and you had. And oh, he didn’t mean to say that out loud and he panics, quickly sobering up when your smile falls at his words, eyes glazed in reminiscence as you think of that night. 

Atsumu isn’t known for his patience, but he waits, not uttering a single word, not moving an inch as you open yourself up to him, telling him your hopes and dreams that so closely match his own of a loving relationship, marriage, family, sharing about the argument Osamu and you had (unknowing of the fact that Atsumu already knows far more than he should). But when you frustratedly laugh at yourself, asking him rhetorically if you’re just being silly and naive, if you’re just a grown woman trying to fulfill a little girl’s childish dream, you’re stunned by the fierce denial from the blonde athlete determinedly staring at you.

“No. You’re not being silly or naive. ‘Samu’s being the idiot. Any man would be lucky and proud to have you as his wife and to create a family with you.”

Those words resonate with you, linger in your mind, further branded into your memory by the sheer sincerity Atsumu drowned them in. And maybe that’s why you find it impossible to play house anymore, find it impossible to live a forced and fake lie when you’re not truly happy anymore. It’s hard, heartbreakingly so, to part ways with the silver haired man when he still holds a part of your heart, but it’s for the best. Why continue when neither of you are on the same page in the long run? Why waste more precious years when you can actively work towards your desired future with someone else who wants the same things as you? 

It’s logical. It makes sense. And yet when you meet up with Atsumu at his apartment for dinner one night to catch up a few months or so after the break up you’re still doubting your decision. 

You had been surprised the blond setter had been so adamant about keeping in touch even after his brother and you separated, but if you’re honest, he’s surprisingly sweet and caring, someone you consider a true friend. So as awkward as it might seem to outsiders, the two of you remain in close contact and you happily agree to his invite when both your busy schedules finally match up. 

But as much as you like Atsumu, the two of you really need to stop drinking so much when you see each other and you let out a cry of frustration when your eyes immediately tear up when Atsumu casually asks how you’re doing as both of you sprawl out on his couch, trying to wave away his worried face as he hovers far too close to you, telling him it’s just the alcohol making you more emotional than usual. 

And you still blame all the drinks he had generously kept refilling for you for the way you sob and cling onto him as he wraps you in a tight hug, telling him how you worry all the time about whether or not you made the right decision to break up with Osamu, whether or not you’re ever going to find someone else, ever going to get married, ever going to have that dream romance you’ve always wanted, ever going to have the happy full family you’ve always yearned for. 

It all comes out of you so easily. But everything with Atsumu has always come easy and you don’t think much of it, finding comfort in his solid presence as he continues to hold you, letting him readjust and find a comfortable position-

You scramble to separate from him when lips tenderly meet yours, limbs flailing as you shove the man away from you, eyes comically wide open as you stare agape at Atsumu. 

“What are you- We can’t- No no no. All of this is wrong. This would KILL Osamu-”

Something inside of Atsumu snaps when he hears his brother’s name from your lips. Even after all this time, you’re still thinking of him? You still care about him? When the better twin is right in front of your fucking face? 

He doesn’t even register he’s shouting those questions in your face, barely registering your terrified eyes as you try to shrink away from him. But your movement of pulling away from him snaps him back to reality and reflexes has his hand twisting in your hair, grabbing you by your roots, fury making him numb to the way you desperately claw at his grip as he drags you to his bedroom. 

You’re too focused on soothing your aching skull when he finally releases you by throwing you onto his bed and pitiful tears stream down your face as you gingerly hold your head, ignorant of how the athlete is rummaging through his closet. In hindsight you’ll wonder why you didn’t try to run while his back was turned, although you already know the answer. This is just Atsumu in one of his moods. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He’ll apologize in just a second. Those are the thoughts fleeting through your mind amidst the sore ache Atsumu has left behind. 

But a warning bell rings relentlessly inside of you as you finally look up when you sense him approaching you, a thick roll of silver duct tape in his hands. 

Had Atsumu always looked so...intimidating?

You try to fight back as you’re suddenly pinned to the bed by a muscular body, flailing and thrashing as calloused hands hold your arms above your hand, tightly wrapping your wrists together, looping extra lengths of the tape around the headboard, securely fastening your arms up and out of the way. But it’s useless, pathetic really, although Atsumu thinks there’s something adorable about how hard you’re trying, only to be easily batted away by his much stronger body as he tears off your clothes and bends your knees, taping your calves to your thighs, one side at a time until both your legs are bound. 

And then there’s silence and stillness other than your wriggling tied form as Atsumu sits back and admires the view of your naked body, reality so much more lucious and gorgeous than he had ever imagined. You struggle against your tight restraints, recoiling as brown eyes leer at you, ravenously devouring the sight of your heaving breasts, raking down your figure before finally landing on your bare pussy on full display as his hands spread your bound legs on either side of you, palms searing your inner thighs with their unwanted warmth as he holds you open. 

One day he won’t need the resilient tape to hold you down and keep you still. One day you’ll let him have you of your own free will. One day you’ll see that he was always the one for you. But he can’t help but feel that there’s something breathtaking about how vulnerable and pretty you are, laid out for him like a wrapped present, something filthily attractive about how striking the silver stripes are against your skin. 

One day he won’t need the resilient tape...but that doesn’t mean he'll stop using it. 

You shudder as he trails his fingers over the duct tape, grinning at you all the while. 

“Can’t have you moving too much if I’m going to breed you. You’ll make all my cum spill out of you.”

He tsks when you frantically struggle at his words, pathetic begs and pleads spilling from your lips as dread fills you from learning exactly what Atsumu has planned for you and suddenly you’re all too aware of just how exposed you are, how tight the front of his pants look as his erection presses against the fabric, how far too close he is to your most intimate part. And you sob as he leans on top of you, pressing his toned body against yours, something hard pressing against your bare pussy as he captures your lips in a kiss to silence you. 

“I thought you would be more thankful considering how you were practically in my arms begging me for kids not even a hour ago. And now I’m here ready to give you what you want and you’re making such a fuss.” 

He rolls his eyes, scoffing as you only sob even harder, body shaking and trembling, sniveling as you stare up at him with teary eyes, begging him to stop. 

“Oh shut up. What? Are you worried about the order of things? Worried I’ll just knock you up and leave you alone? Don’t be stupid. I’ll make sure to put a ring on your finger and marry you after this. Who cares about the order of things when the end result is the same.” 

Your mouth opens and shuts a few times, unsure where to even begin telling him just how wrong his reasoning is, unsure how to even process his words. Ring? Marry? What-

But thoughts fly out of your head when a hungry mouth suddenly descends on your breasts, harshly sucking a nipple between wet lips, fingers roughly twisting and pulling at your other nipple and you wail at the jolt of sudden stimulation, too focused on the tongue lapping at your nipples and lances of arousal swirling inside of you to notice how his free hand is shoving his pants and boxers down and off. 

You hate how quick you are to melt into the delirious pleasure, body craving for the touch of another, to be brought to new heights by another after being left to your own devices for the past few months and you can feel your pussy clench and throb, feeling so exposed and empty, practically begging to be stuffed full as slick begins to form between your legs. And as if Atsumu can hear your body’s silent cry for more, he begins to push the tip of his cock inside of you and your back arches, mouth instinctively opening as he takes his time, pressing past your tight opening, slipping further and further inside of you until he’s finally fully sheathed inside of you, letting your body adjust to him as he continues licking and sucking on your breasts, groaning as he feels your tight walls clamp around him with every move of his mouth. 

Atsumu is not known for his patience, but he tries his damn best to take it as slow as he bearably can for you, dragging his cock back and forth against your gummy walls, constantly adjusting the angle of his hips with every stroke until you’re crying out, and he smirks triumphantly, memorizing the exact position and angle that has you seeing stars as he continuously hits that spongy spot inside of you. And all it takes is for his hand to slide between the two of you and gently circle your clit as he continues his steady assault to have you breaking to pieces underneath him, garbled versions of his name escaping your mouth as your orgasm washes over you in heavy tall waves, his own release joining with yours as your pussy convulses and milks him of his sticky white liquid. 

As post-coital bliss disintegrates, shame and relief flood through you, shame for enjoying it, relief that this ordeal is finally over and you wait. Wait for him to remove the tape. Wait for him to pull out of you. Grimacing as he affectionately nuzzles you and litters your face with kisses. But you panic, pure fear flooding through you when you feel his cock twitching inside of you once more, growing inside of you again. 

“You didn’t think we were done, did you? Need to make sure I fill you with so much cum that your body has no choice but to get pregnant.”

And he stays true to his words, fucking you over and over again, sometimes hard and rough, sometimes passionate and sensual, sometimes soft and gentle, but always finishing inside of you, adding to the splattered pooling mess inside of you. You feel disgusting, the increasingly wet noises as he thrusts in and out of the sticky wet mess inside of you permeating throughout the room, stomach feeling so bloated with cum that you swear you must be pregnant already. 

Quiet, relieved sobs wrack your body when the weight on top of you finally lifts, when he finally pulls out of you and your body slumps down, all the tension leaving it, discomfort taking its place as you feel a torrent of liquid move to rush out of your overfilled cunt, the beginnings of it already starting to trickle out. But despite your aching dry throat, you manage to let out a strangled cry of disbelief when your hips are uncomfortably raised up, upper body almost folded in half as Atsumu keeps your glistening pussy upright, not allowing even a single drop more to escape. 

And in this new position you have no choice but to watch, anxiety coursing through you when he tears off another piece of duct tape, chest hyperventilating as he places it over your gaping hole, effectively sealing you shut and despite the fact that you thought you had no more tears left to shed, new salty teardrops slide down your cheeks at the debauched site of your own pussy being treated as nothing more than an object, a receptacle for his seed, his beaming smug face between your legs only adding to your humiliation as he smiles down at his handiwork. 

All you can do is mindlessly stare when he directs his smile at you, verbally praising himself for how smart he is for finding a way to keep his cum inside of you and making sure all his hard work doesn’t go to waste, mind and body feeling numb and broken as he finally lets your body lay fully back on the bed, slumping down next to you in exhaustion and cuddling your listless and still bound figure. 

“We can go pick out rings together tomorrow, okay? Maybe try a few more times for some runts after. You think the more I cum in you, the better the chance that you’ll have twins?”

You don’t know, but you have a sinking feeling that you’ll soon be finding out.

[imagine-that-100]

All of You

Description: Alex Turner x Reader (Female) | After getting married, you and Alex go on your Honeymoon that comprises of two destinations. Athens is filled with shitty jokes whilst Bora Bora is filled with compliments and kisses.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Lil smut 

A/N: This was requested by the lovely @ghostlightqueen​. Really hope you like it and I hope the rest of you do too. Likes and reblog are appreciated and thank you so much for reading x

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You thought that the day you got married would be the happiest of your life, but it seems that the days that followed were somehow even more joyous. You travelled to your second Honeymoon destination a week after your wedding and the moment you got off the plane with your husband's hand in your own, you knew that this was heaven on earth.

Bora Bora was gorgeous, and it was truly the best Honeymoon destination for you and Alex. You don’t think he’d done nothing in his mind for a long time so the absence of the need to write songs really must have relaxed him.

You’d already been to Athens to see the sights. You both found a lovely antique store whilst you were there and by some miracle you both found an English poetry book in there and each night, before you slept, one of you read one to the other.

The sight-seeing was really fun with him too. You enjoyed going round with your polaroid camera and asking strangers to take a picture of the both of you.

You knew Alex didn’t really like pictures but the ones with you he never failed to smile for. Your husband was also hilarious with you the entire time you got excited to see something new.

Seeing the world was something Alex was obviously lucky enough to do, and you’d been lucky enough to to accompany him a few times, but this was totally different. You were viewing history and you found it so fascinating.

“You’re really Greek-ing out over the view, aren’t you?” Alex chuckles loving seeing you as excited as you are.

“Al, that was awful.” You giggle putting your camera down.

He laughs at your distaste for his joke, but he grins at you and nods, “But you are though.”

“Yes Alex, we’re standing in Acropolis… I’ve always wanted to come here.” You tell him what he already knows.

He smiles at you then before he quickly kisses you. When he pulls away, he says, “Don’t worry, I’ll let you carry on Greek-ing out.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh lord.”

The day after, you both go on a tour around the Parthenon, and Alex catches you looking at an ice cream cart. So, Alex, being the loving husband he is, he goes and gets you an ice cream as you continue to listen to the tour guide.

A minute later Alex came back over with two ice creams in hand and he whispers into your ear after he hands you yours, “What’s Athen’in?”

The way you rolled your eyes at that would have been comical if Alex saw it, but he didn’t, you elbowed him in his side for the awful way he asked, ‘what’s happening.’

“Thank you for my ice cream, you fucking nerd” You whisper back dismissively and Alex chuckles before taking your hand and following the rest of your group as you started moving from your current spot.

Alex continues to make his shit jokes all week and you won’t let yourself admit they are entertaining. You didn’t want to encourage his silly behaviour despite secretly loving it.

On your second to last day before you were due to travel again, you go to a museum and you absolutely love it. But your husband loves to be needy in the crowd of people you were in.

“I love you.” Alex says, leaning over your shoulder and kissing your cheek as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Love you too Alex.” You smile as you rest your hands over his, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb.  

Alex pouts wanting you to return his kind gesture, “Give me a kiss to prove it then.”

“Why can’t I just tell you? We’re in public.” You say, not feeling the need to get off with him as you were standing admiring some art.

Alex grins as you’ve played right into his hands. He jokes, “Athens speak louder than words, Y/N.”

You groan, “That’s the worst one yet.” leaning back into him.

“You love it really.” Alex mumbles as he leans down and places a kiss on your shoulder.

Alex kisses then travel from your shoulder and up to your neck. You’re well aware he likes that your shoulders are available to kiss because you're wearing a white vest top with spaghetti straps. He always loved to follow that trail of kisses.

You pay the loving kisses no attention though, you just chuckle and tell him, “I can’t wait to tell Matt about your shitty jokes.”

“Hey...” Alex pouts, “What Athens in Greece, stays in Greece.”

You hold your groan back this time and curiously ask, “Can I get an annulment or does it have to be a divorce after nearly a week?”

You can’t hold back your smile as he loudly gasps and spins you around. You knew that he knew you were joking but that doesn’t stop his jaw falling open.  

“You love me, you wouldn’t do that.” Alex playfully frowns a little.

“You should know by now that you can’t tame me Turner.” You grin and wrap your arms around his neck.

Who were you kidding, you didn’t care about PDA that much.

“I know everything about you, Turner.” Alex grins, using your new last name against you. “You’ve been my best friend since we were seventeen.”

“I know, you idiot.” You smile as you feel his arms wrap around your lower back.

“That’s how I know you hate me when I do this.” You grin as you reach up, messing up his fluffy hair with one hand whilst stealing his sunglasses with your other.

Alex gasps and laughs, pulling you in tighter so you can’t escape. You giggle like an idiot trying to get away from him but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.

“You’re my wife, you can’t pull shit like that anymore.” Alex says, his jaw still a little agape.

You grin and say, “I can and I will… Gotta keep you on your toes now Turner.”

Alex shakes his head and mumbles against your lips before he lets you fully kiss him, “Like you have done the past twenty years, you mean?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Bora Bora was a completely different experience.

Maybe it was because there was less to do or you were both just shocked by the beauty of the place. You felt like you were in Neverland.

The islands surrounding the one your resort was on was amazing. You and Alex were staying in your own water villa and it was one of the end ones so you had the best view and the bigger place.

Not that you really needed it but you had to admit, it was nice to have a big house in a stunning paradise to yourselves.

There was a balcony on the water villa you were both staying in and it was amazing. It came equipped with sunloungers and even a small pool, which was mental to you because the sea was right there for you to jump into if you wanted to swim.  

But that didn’t mean that you didn’t get use out of it.

You’ve both been there a few days and you’ve not yet got bored of sunbathing after your hectic week of being a tourist. Last week had definitely tired you both out, so despite you already having your tans by now, you still loved spending your full day out in the sunshine.

You got up from the sunlounger, that was more of a sun bed, beside Alex not 20 minutes ago, and swam to the edge of the small infinity pool and rested your elbows on the side of it as you watched the sun go down. The view was stunning.

The sun slowly hid itself behind the stray clouds that littered the sky, turning them red which against the now orange sky made it look picture perfect. You wanted to paint the scene in front of you.

But before you knew it, it had disappeared and darkness was creeping its way to the sky. So you slowly made your way out of the pool so you could get ready to go for dinner soon.

“You look so good right now Angel.” Alex says as you walk up the steps out of the pool.

You smile, feeling a little shy for some unknown reason. Probably because you weren’t doing anything that you thought was compliment worthy, “You think so?”

“I always think so.” Alex nods before gesturing for you to come towards him.

He didn’t care that you’d just been in the water at all. His trunks were still damp from his swim earlier so when he guided you to straddle his lap, he didn’t care at all.

You looked stunning in your blue and white striped spaghetti strap bikini. He definitely couldn’t not tell you, even if he did see traces of embarrassment show on your pretty face.

“I love you.” You grin before pressing your lips to his after wrapping your arms around his neck.

Alex grins back and keeps you close as he whispers, “I love you more.”

You brush your nose against his as you shake your head, whispering back, “Not possible.”

You kiss him then and despite it being soft and gentle, you get the same nervous feeling in your stomach that you got the first time you kissed him however many years ago now. The kiss deepened and you guess the two of you just got too consumed in the moment because before you knew it all the strings that held your bikini together were being untied and Alex’s trunks were off.

If you ever cared about having sex and the risk of others seeing you, you certainly didn’t in this moment in time. You were riding your husband on the large sunlounger on your balcony and you felt euphoric.

The intimacy of the moment somehow made it better and you think even the risk of others seeing or hearing increased the pleasure you were feeling too. That must have been subconscious though because all you could think about was Alex.

His hold on your hips was strong and when he pulled you hips down to meet his, it caused the sweetest sound to fall from your lips which made Alex do it again and again. You looked heavenly above him like that.

Eyes closed just basking in the feeling of pleasure you were both giving each other. The sun setting behind you as Alex watched you ride him was stunning, it made you look like you were glowing.

Gorgeous was another word Alex would use to describe you when your head tilted back in the bliss of the moment. The whine you release when Alex starts kissing your neck where he knew you were sensitive was music to his ears.

And the way your fingers laced through his hair and pulled on it causing a similar sound to fall from Alex’s lips. But most of all Alex just thought you were the most beautiful human being and he never had a problem with telling you that.

The things he told you during intimate moments like this just made everything better and when your orgasm hit you, it was unearthly. You cling to Alex like he was going to magically disappear and Alex did the same to you when he got his release.

“I love you Alex.” You just about manage to say into his neck where you were hiding yourself when you came back to reality.

Alex trails kisses from your shoulder all the way up your neck to just under your ear as he’d done hundreds of times before. He breathes you, “I love you too Angel.”

~*~*~*~

Days in this paradise were spent relaxing in each other’s company outside or inside, in bed. The latter happened often as there was no need to get yourselves up in the mornings so you lazed about in bed.

Either cuddling and listening to music or listening to the TV in the background as you both stared out at the amazing view that the island had to offer. There weren’t very many times throughout this honeymoon when you wouldn’t be found touching each other.

Even if you went out for a walk you’d be hand in hand. But mostly you were entangled together in the confines of your own villa.

Either in the same sense that you were when you were on the sunlounger, which you couldn’t look at the same again, or just innocently cuddling. You think that your happiest day had been when Alex showered you with a million more compliments than he did every other day.

Today you’d stayed in your villa for most of the day, first Alex had made you feel euphoric again by making you feel like a queen (his queen). This time in bed though and not on the sunlounger.

Afterwards, you both showered and you were certain you’d never felt more peaceful than in that shower with him after he’d just made you feel pure bliss. After you dried off, Alex catered for you by making you a late breakfast which later you returned the favour for and made him lunch.

After relaxing in the small pool that was on your balcony, you also messed around a little and both jumped in the sea a lot, as if you were seventeen again. Once you decided it was time to make yourselves presentable for dinner later, you both headed back inside out of the sunlight.

You ran yourself a bath and unsurprisingly Alex joined you in it when it was filled. The bath was next to a large window that again showed off the stunning views of your amazing surroundings, so you enjoyed resting back against Alex, listening to the music that was playing out of your phone.

The kisses to your head as you both relaxed warmed your heart more than the water you were both sat in. It made you not want to leave the escape that the villa brought you.

So you dragged the bath out for a good hour and after Alex washed your hair and you had a giggle washing his, you got ready and went out to have your meal.

You came back to the villa long after the sun had set and you couldn’t wait to get in bed so a whole new day could start. Alex had been charming and flirty all throughout dinner so it really wasn’t a surprise when that continued.

The compliments started falling from his lips as soon as you both made it back to bed. Both of you cuddled together but he was once again teasing you with neck kisses.

“I’m sad you took that dress off, you looked stunning tonight.” Alex tells you as he places random kisses just below your ear.

He was pretty much lying on top of you, your chests pressed together and his head was buried into your neck. You weren’t complaining though, you just happily traced patterns on the smooth material that rested on his back, and now and again you ran your fingers through his hair.

You grin knowing he’d like it. “I thought you’d like that one.”

It was a little black dress that you’d bought purposely for a dinner date. You knew he’d love it because of how perfectly it fit you, but you had to admit, taking it off and putting your new black silk pyjama top and shorts on felt comfier.

“I like everything you put on… Or take off for that matter.” He chuckles a little, still lying on top of you and kissing your neck now and again.

He made you feel really warm and you loved the intimacy of the moment. Just lying in bed with him with the balcony doors open and letting the cool breeze run over the both of you as you listen to the waves.

“Very easily impressed, aren’t you?” You grin as you twirl his hair around your fingers.

Alex chuckles before kissing his way back up your neck. “Only by you, Angel.”

You giggle a little then as you play with his hair whilst he still distracts himself with your neck. You were sure he’d keep his head there for all eternity if you let him, and he had even more reason to stay there because he knew you secretly loved it.

“I could name 110 things I love about you right now, just off the top of my head.” Alex promises as he lifts his head and kisses your lips.

You giggle when he pulls away, “That’s oddly specific.”

Alex grins and kisses you again as he says, “Well I could have said 505 but at the risk of being cheesy, I adapted.”

The laugh you released then was something Alex was so glad he could hear everyday now. He couldn’t wait to start a proper life with you now you were officially his.

“Your laugh might be at the very top of that list.” Alex tells you, smiling to himself.

“Then your eyes, they are so stunning.” Alex tells you, his own eyes looking back and forth between yours. Almost as if he couldn’t decide which he liked better. “I’d write a full song about your Y/E/C eyes if you’d let me.”

You grin at him but shake your head. It was an answer that Alex knew was coming but he still loved them non the less. Alex gazes down at your lips then that were tugged up into a stunning smile.

“Your smile is definitely up there too. I don’t think I could ever have a bad day again if you smile at me like that every day.” That fills your chest with warmth.

Alex gives you an eskimo kiss then and your heart skips a beat at your noses brushing together, and again when he softly says, “I love the way you just sort of melt when I do that.”

It was true you really did practically melt beneath him. Your eyes close, you release the breath you're holding and you just bask in the feeling of his nose brushing against yours, you feel like you sink into the pillow beneath you more than you already had.

His compliments continue, “I love the way you run your fingers through my hair and how you twist it around when you’re relaxed and happy.”

You smile as you carry on doing it. And you didn’t plan on stopping.

“I love that you still wear that perfume I helped you pick out years ago.” Alex says getting another whiff of the gorgeous scent.

“I love your kisses. To the point where I think I’d cry if you’d deny me one.” Alex jokes a little with you and it makes you giggle again.

“I love waking up and falling asleep next to you.” Alex admits, “Definitely better than waking up next to the idiots back home on a tour bus.”

“You’re such a lovely friend.” You chuckle looking into his soft brown eyes.

Alex hums in agreement and continues with, “I love that you’re my best friend and have been since I can remember.”

“I adore the fact that you’re amazing at what you do and you give 110% for each new thing that’s thrown your way.”

“You’ve said 110 twice now, should I be expecting another song?” You playfully ask him and Alex laughs before he kisses you again.

“I love your reactions to the songs that are about you.” Alex grins.

Your eyes narrow a bit there as he knew how you felt about the songs. But you could let that go a bit now.

He was your husband after all.

“I love that you get really sexy when you get annoyed at something.” Alex says before kissing you again, and he starts kissing down your jaw and he focuses back on your neck.

“I love the way you pretend you hate this but I know from the way that you react that you don’t.” Alex says and you catch yourself reacting in encouraging ways.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, you gave him more room for his lips to find your skin, and your breath hitched when he teases the spot he knew was your weakest.

“I love that the way you breathe gives away how you want to have sex.” Alex practically purrs in your ear.

Alex’s lips continue to tease you and after a few seconds he nips on a spot he already got before and you release a breathy whine. Of course Alex says, “I love those noises you make so much. I wanna hear them all day.”

Alex slowly moved himself a little further up your body, this time resting himself down between your legs and you can feel him getting hard through the both of your pyjama shorts. You gasp a little, “Alex.”

He all but groans, “I love the way you say my name.”

Your eyes are closed now and you focus on the kisses on your neck and his hand running down your side until he carries on to your leg and he gently guides it to hook around his waist. He felt even better against you then and you bite your lip to stop yourself from giving anything more away.

“I love how you try to stop yourself from wanting us… Makes it even funnier now we’re married.” Alex chuckles before he kisses your lips that he catches you biting.

You don’t really care now, he’s right. He’s your husband, you don’t have to show restraint anymore. Especially on your Honeymoon.

Your kiss is slow but intense. You could feel how much Alex loved you and you wanted to show how much you love him too. And in this moment your actions seemed like no better way.

“Alex.” You breathe to grab his attention.

He kisses you again and bites in your lip as he pulls away. He grins at your whine and innocently asks you, “Yes Angel?”

You grab a fistful of his pyjama top and say, “Please let me take this off”

He lets you and once it’s somewhere on the floor Alex grins at you like an idiot. You know he’s happy, overjoyed even, but there’s a teasing sparkle in his eyes so you lean up and kiss him again to bypass that.

Your top hits the floor next and Alex has his fun attaching his lips to your chest leaving mark after mark. The rest of both your pyjamas are removed shortly after. 

Before anything goes any further though Alex pauses for a second. He looks down at you so lovingly, you feel as if you could literally melt under his gaze.

His chest is still pressed to yours and you’re both breathing a little heavy from previous kisses. But the way he’s looking at you makes your heart flutter.

At this point you don’t think it ever wouldn’t.

Alex’s declaration of love finishes off with, “I just love you Mrs Turner... All of you”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[lildark1]

‘Why did I think this was a good idea?’ The question kept repeating over and over in Yasha’s mind, running away with her panic as she stared at all the clothes strewn across the bed, desk, and every other available surface. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” She mumbled, crossing her arms and almost hugging herself as her nerves started to get the best of her. She wanted to grab her phone and cancel everything, say she came down sick. She certainly felt like she was going to puke. 

“No, Yasha this is a perfect idea,” Jester said from where she was half-buried inside her closet. “We are going to find you something to wear and you are going to knock Beau’s socks off.” The smaller woman dove back into the walk-in closet, mumbling almost madly to herself as she rummaged around. 

Yasha moved out of the way to keep from being hit by another dress, her mind replaying that afternoon when this had started. 

She, Beau, Fjord, and Jester had been hanging out when talk of a party nearby had started up. A party that was going to take place in the same house that Beau’s ex, the one that had seriously broken her heart, had resided in. Beau had seem reluctant, stating she hadn’t wanted to appear pathetically single and all that. Especially since she had heard talk that Traci had a new girlfriend. 

Yasha didn’t know what possessed her, but she had spoke up, saying she could go with Beau. Jester had jumped on the idea, stating they could “double date”, show Traci what she was missing. Beau hadn’t been sure at first, but when Yasha assured her she wanted to go the jock had agreed, thanking the other three, Yasha specifically, for this before dashing off to get ready. Jester had then dragged Yasha over to her house to get ready and now here Yasha stood, wondering what in the name of Kord has possessed her to agree to this. 

She wasn’t a party person. She felt so uncomfortable in large crowds. But seeing the way that Beau had folded in on herself a bit at the mention of Traci, the recent breakup still painful despite the months that had passed, had caused her mouth to open before her brain could catch up. 

Yasha picked up her phone, unlocking it to look at the home screen. It was a picture of her and Beau, taken during a rare day when all of them could hang out together. What was supposed to just be a quick shot had become a much more candid one. Beau was half leaning against the taller woman, eyes screwed shut in merriment and smile wide and infectious at a joke she had just heard Fjord say. The look in Yasha’s eyes had been warm and in love, ‘heart eyes’ Jester had called them. 

Yasha had seen the look immediately and made up an excuse, stating it was a bad shot and they needed to try again. The next one had been normal, both smiling happily at the camera, no heart eyes and obvious crush in sight. Beau had asked to be sent a copy of that one, and Yasha had socked away the first one as her home screen, unable to bring herself to delete it. 

Now she stared at it, pumping herself up with what she was going to be doing tonight. Pretending to be Beau’s girlfriend to make her ex jealous and all the while not letting her very real crush show. No problem. She groaned for the hundredth time and sat down on the bed, uncaring of the clothes there. This was such a bad idea. A yell of triumph had Yasha looking up in surprise as Jester came out, carrying something in her hands. She moved over to the corner of her room where she had a station set up for sewing and alterations. “A leetle snip here, couple stitches there and we’ll have the perfect outfit fer you to confess your love.” And she was out the door, leaving Yasha gobsmacked. “I...wuh...Jester?!” 

-=- 

Beau’s leg bounced as she waited for Jester and Yasha to come downstairs. The party started in a little while and she was a bit mixed about it. She had been looking forward to this. It was the end of the year party and a much-needed break from the hectic schedule of college classes, practice, and work at the library. It had just been tempered when she had seen where it was going to be. 

There were going to be hundreds of people there no doubt, so while they would see each other its not like they had to talk to one another. But just the thought of seeing Traci again, for the first time since their break up, left a sour feeling in her stomach. 

Then Yasha agreeing to go? 

That had been extremely surprising. Yasha much preferred the quiet of a small gathering, maybe ten people tops, over a party like this. She wondered if maybe she was turning a new leaf? This was a massive leaf, but who was she to judge. Now not only was she going to have to deal with Traci, but trying not to act like a fool in front of Yasha. She had a serious crush for the woman she had been trying to deal with, with little to no success, she just hoped she didn’t make an idiot of herself. 

“Hope we weren’t keeping you waiting long,” Jester said as she bounced down the stairs, looking gorgeous in a sapphire blue dress that matched her jewel blue eyes and a forest green jacket wrapped around her shoulders. 

“You look gorgeous, Jess. Fjord isn’t going to know what to do with himself,” Beau replied, standing to give her best friend a hug. She turned when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs and was thankful she was hugging Jester because the vision before her nearly put her on her ass. Yasha was…

”Wow.” 

It was the only word that could come to the short-circuiting mush her brain had become as she took in the woman before her. Clad in a deep blue, almost black dress, Yasha was gorgeous. The off the shoulder top showing off her broad shoulders and arms, hugged her curves and had a slit up one side to show off her long legs. The fabric was shimmering, like a blanket of stars that rippled every time she moved. Beau was mesmerized. 

“What do you think? Some of my best work yet, huh?” Jester replied, nudging her still comatose friend into action. 

“That’s...Yasha you are…” Beau licked her dry lips and cleared her throat. With some difficulty she pulled herself up and straightened her jacket. “Yeah. Just...just.” And try as she might to appear normal and unaffected, as she gazed into those mismatched eyes, one that said so much when their owner said so little, Beau felt herself fall just a little bit more. “A vision.”

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [Finale]

Chapter 22 - Chapter 23 [Finale]

➜ Words: 5.1k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Baking is an art form. It takes more than just having ingredients and following a recipe. It’s the flavour, texture, taste, and the presentation. It’s knowing why when things go wrong and how to fix it. It’s knowing the right kinds of ingredients to pick, how much of each should be combined, what techniques and methods to use. Baking is therapy. Baking is scientific. It is art.   The ingredients are as follows: 

Fresh strawberries

White chocolate sponge cake

Sugar

Butter

Eggs

You place the fresh strawberries into the refrigerator as the stand mixer whips the six large egg whites and two cups of sugar. When it's combined, you place a bowl over a double boiler on the stove and whisk until the mixture is hot. You put it on your stand mixer again until the white chocolate swiss meringue buttercream is stiff. The cubed butter and white chocolate is added shortly after until it's smooth.   Once you’ve got your components prepared, you slice the cooled white chocolate cake into two layers and set the bottom layer on a cake board on the turning cake table. You spread the meringue buttercream evenly with an offset spatula and layer the strawberries.    Afterwards, you put the other chocolate sponge cakes over it and repeat the process.   You finish the white chocolate strawberry swirl cake with white chocolate strawberries on top for decorative purposes and pipe flowers with a twelve inch piping bag.   “It looks fucking incredible.”   Jungkook leans over the counter, peering at the frosted cake you’ve just made.   “It was supposed to be white chocolate raspberry swirl, but I know you like strawberries, so….”   The boy grins, a wide smile that makes his big nose scrunch. “I love it.”   You burst out into giggles. “You haven’t even taken a bite yet!”   Jungkook begins slicing the cake. You’re proud of what you’ve made — but it’s kind of sad at the same time. This is the final product of your portfolio before it's ready for submission. You’re glad it’s over, but it also means your journey here is ending.   It’s November now. And it’s been one whole year since your relationship with Jungkook shifted.    A year ago — when the internship posting went up and you found out he was going to be your partner over the summer. When you were made his exam partner in your fine pastries class. When that Friday night happened and you bursted out crying in the kitchen, and he comforted you to no avail despite it being a cold night where the air bit his skin and turned his cheeks rosy. Where he bought you grape soda for no reason whatsoever other than a poor attempt at trying to make things better.   It seems like it was so long ago, but it’s only been three hundred and sixty days.   It makes you wonder what will happen a year from now or two or ten.   “Not too sweet?”   You watch your boyfriend’s expression carefully. Jeon Jungkook has his brows deeply furrowed with a thoughtful expression like he’s trying to give honest output. His fork is cleaned empty and it lowers to grab another bite.    “It’s perfect.” He melts into a smile. “Maybe you made my sugar tolerance go up.”   “Maybe because I improved.” You loll your head to the side, challenging him. “It’s almost as good as your chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes, huh?”   Jungkook scoffs lightly. “I wouldn’t go that far, babe, but we can all dream.”   You sulk. “I’ll find out that recipe one day, Jeon. You mark my words and when I do, I’ll profit off of it.”   He laughs, the sound tickling and boyish, causing another smile to rise onto your features. Jungkook digs in, having yet another bite and he lets his teeth rot with the sweetness.    It’s not long before he remembers something, strides away with a hum and returns with a cold tray. “What is it?” you ask curiously as he sets it down and removes the saran wrap.   “It’s truffles. I made it in my art of chocolate class, but it’s an original recipe. Give it a try.”   He pushes the tray towards you and you don’t hesitate to grab a chocolate truffle. You would never, on any planet, deny the opportunity of consuming chocolate, especially when it’s made by Jeon Jungkook. You’ve never said it out loud before, but for some reason he always makes the best.   No grocery brand or chocolatier can beat what he often bakes for you.   So you try not to devour the truffle all in one bite, opting to relish and savour it. You take half of the truffle into your mouth and chew with the same consideration he had for you. And you’re surprised as the deep flavour melts on your palate. “Coffee?”    Your brows furrow and you lick your lips. “Did you put black coffee into it?”   “I was inspired by a memory,” Jungkook says with a soft smile. “What do you think?”   “I love it,” you exhale in awe, finishing the bite and licking your fingers.    It tastes kind of bitter, but it has a sweet note at the end.    It’s bittersweet. But mostly ends up sweet.

Life with Jungkook continues. Lectures and workshops become more hectic the closer the end comes, but in between classes and late nights spent in the kitchens next to ovens, you and Jungkook still find plenty of time with one another. Or at least enough that you still have your dumb debates and have your hour of snuggling — which Jungkook regularly falls asleep during.   The honeymoon phase of your relationship eventually fades away, but luckily it molds into a comfortable pattern that neither of you mind whatsoever. There are still knowing gazes shared across busy rooms, his hand that often comes on your lower back that you find security in, tender kisses shared when the two of you greet each other and bid temporary farewells.    You still love Jungkook very much and you don’t ever find yourself afraid of him leaving you abruptly.    Your relationship becomes normal too, so Yoongi and Taehyung has little to tease you both about. They instead relish in bullying Jimin when he ends up going out with a coworker of his at his new part-time job, much to the shorter man’s dismay.   Hoseok, on the other hand, while no longer in a relationship, finds an interest in teaching and starts to look into what it would take to become an instructor. You’re happy for him and so is Aeri who tells you she’s considering going abroad someday to expand her culinary skills and cook more international cuisine. She keeps herself preoccupied by improving herself and becomes someone worthy of your admiration.   But for the most part, things remain consistent and constant. There’s still bickering over lunchtimes and dinner times across the cafeteria table. Still nights of crashing Yoongi and Hoseok’s apartment and playing games. The five of you also start playing Dungeons and Dragons much to Taehyung’s delight who becomes the dungeon master — and while Yoongi always says he wants to stab himself halfway through every session, you’re sure he enjoys it as much as everyone else does.   The memories made are ones you cherish the most.   And before you know it, graduation has come.   “You look beautiful, dear,” Jungkook’s mom holds back tears as she grasps your hands tightly. “Congratulations.”   “Thank you.”   “Come on, you two!” His dad suddenly calls, holding an old camera up to his chin. “Let’s take some photos to remember the occasion!”   One hand holds your rolled certificate and the other holds your navy gown, you stand in front of the school sign with Jungkook who adjusts his black cap. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and the both of you tilt your heads towards each other and give the biggest grins.   The camera flashes. Again and again.   The corner of your mouth starts moving as your smile twitches. “How many is he taking?”   “Just smile,” Jungkook mutters through his grin as both his parents, his aunt and uncle, Lia and Eunbi, and grandma look on proudly. “He’ll do more if you try to argue.”   “Two more!” His dad shouts, despite taking another five.   His entire family seems so elated that your heart swells with endearment.   “I didn’t know your family would be so happy when you told them we were dating,” you murmur, switching your poses a bit. “You know, your grandma just asked me when we’re getting married.”   “Really?” He glances at you and then scoffs with another smile that’s more genuine. “Be lucky she has half a mind not to start asking when we’re having kids. Unless…...”   “I swear to god, Jungkook, if you get down on your knee in the middle of our graduation with everyone watching, I’m going to kick you in your shin.”   He giggles, nose scrunched, eyes crinkled.    It’s not long before Jungkook’s mother drags over Jimin overbearingly by the hand with Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi for a group photo. There’re so many parents, family members, and phones and cameras being passed around that your plastered smile starts to break on your face. Everyone’s mother and their goddamn cousin’s cousin wants three copies of the same exact picture.   “Oh my god, kill me now,” Yoongi groans but still has that dumb fucking grin on his face. He looks more like a kid showing off his braces or a grandpa who has his dentures stuck.   You think he’s putting on that idiotic grin just to ruin the pictures — even his mom is yelling about it on the sidelines.   “Just a few more,” Jimin whispers with more perseverance than anyone else has.   “Who is even taking our picture, right now?” Hoseok asks, his brows furrowing. “Does anyone even know who that lady is?”   “I think she’s the associate dean’s assistant who’s going to put it on the website.” Taehyung breathes out, his cheeks aching from his smile. “Either that or that’s my cousin’s brother-in-law’s younger sister’s friend.”   “Alright, that’s enough.” Yoongi gives up and walks out of the frame. Everyone starts dispersing before there are protests and they’re rounded up for another pointless photo session.    But after a while, you’re granted some freedom to roam around with Jungkook. There’s still a few more photos taken, ones with Aeri and classmates and teachers, like Miss. Kang, who you always liked.    “I always knew the two of you could be close.” The female teacher has the cheesiest smile and you have to admit, you’re glad she never changed Jungkook’s internship like he wanted. In a way she’s like your matchmaker, but you’ll never say it out loud in case you give her more credit than it’s due. She already seems to know it anyway. “Good luck on your future journeys. You both have great potential.”   Namjoon and Sejeong also show up to congratulate the pair of you as well. And they meet Jungkook’s family who seems to adore the couple straight away, asking plenty of questions of what their shop is like and if their son was in any way helpful.   But while you’d like to stick around to hear all the conversations, it’s nice to take a break from the bustle to just walk on the paths that you used to take all the time with Jungkook.   You don’t know what it’s going to be like when you leave this place.   “Aren’t you kind of sad?” Your hand squeezes Jungkook’s and you turn to look at him.   “Yeah,” he admits. “But I’m also happy we don’t have to submit projects or do exams anymore. I’ll miss the routine. Of being able to hang out with the guys and eat with them all the time. But they’ll still be around and I have you.”   Jungkook’s gaze meets yours. His eyes are tender, soft.   You smile at him. That’s right — this chapter might be ending, but you’ll still have many more with him.   “Y/N!” There’s a call of your name and you turn to see your family waving at a distance. Your mom holds a flower bouquet, most likely for you and your cheeks swell with a smile.   Your arm extended in the air to wave back and your steps quicken with Jungkook’s to meet them.

A lot happens after graduation.   There are many changes and alterations. While you’ll still always be learning until the end of time, you’re no longer an official student and you’re thrown to the hounds called the real world.   But it’s not all that bad.   You get hired back at Kim’s Wedding Cake Company and work with Soohyun who’s returned from maternity leave. Yuna also sometimes joins during the weekends and much to your delight, she tells you that she’s enrolled in the institution as she had wanted. You can only imagine what kind of knowledge she’ll gain and stories she’ll end up having there like you did. But there’s not a lot of time to reminisce when there’s work and a ton to learn, but you find yourself enjoying it more than finding it difficult.   Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t return to the company. He instead gets hired at a chocolatier shop not far from where you work. It’s only a ten minute walk down the block; five for each of you when you meet halfway like you frequently do for lunch.   He tells you that he’s learning a lot, on what it takes in the artistry of chocolate, that there’s more meticulousness than what meets the eye. It sounds like an absolute nightmare to you, but he loves it — especially on the days when he smells sweet and there’s some chocolate smeared on his cheeks. And you don’t hate that he often brings you home truffles and caramels to try.   The two of you also move in with each other, sharing an old apartment not far from your workplaces. It’s not much different from how you used to live on campus at different dorms, except now there are bills to be paid and Jungkook steals all the hot water in the shower.   You wonder if this is what it feels like to be an adult.   “Y/N?”   There’s a familiar voice, but one you haven’t heard in ages. A smooth timbre that sounds light and humorous at the corners. You whirl around, regarding the tall man with dark hair, dressed in a dark turtleneck and a black trench coat. His sheepish eyes crinkle in his smile, lips pink and plush.   “Jin?” A grin spreads into your face as well. “Oh my god! How are you? It’s been so long! What are you doing here?”   “I live here, remember,” he reminds in the midst of squeaky giggles. “And I’m good. I’m actually on my way to a meeting. I’m working in management of Toute Pastries and Pâtisseries.”   “Wow, working in commercial bakeries? That’s impressive.”    But you’re not exactly surprised. You knew Seokjin always had it in him and you feel proud that someone you used to know has become so great.   Seokjin laughs. “Not really. It’s kind of less hands-off than I’d like, but what about you?”   “I’m good too. Just heading to my friend’s bakery.” You hitch a thumb over your shoulder. “Today’s the opening. Do you want to come?”   “I’d love to, but the meeting starts in twenty. I saw the sign the other day though. The bakery is that place that was being renovated on Imlingss Avenue, right?”   “Yeah. It’s next to the department store.”   “I’ll swing by when I have some time then.”   “When you have some time?” You eye him playfully and cross your arms. It might be inappropriate to be so sarcastic with an acquaintance, but being with Jungkook has made you more snarky than is probably socially acceptable. “So you’re a hot shot, now, aren’t you?”   Luckily, Jin doesn’t take offence and simply laughs. “I swear I’m not!”   It’s good to see him. You thought you never would again, at least not face-to-face like this. But what you least expected was that your conversations could be so light and natural. It isn’t difficult at all and you don’t find yourself uncomfortable nor holding any resentments. You aren’t sad or angry.   It’s like seeing an old friend again.   “I heard you were with Jungkook,” Jin says with the corner of his mouth quirked. “That’s a surprise.”   “Isn’t it?” Whenever Jungkook used to come up in a conversation, all you ever said to Seokjin was how trash he was. But that was before you really knew anything about him. “But he’s great. An idiot sometimes. But it’s great.”   Jin can see the happiness radiating off your face and it’s infectious. “I’m happy for you, Y/N.”   He says it sincerely, genuinely, and your smile widens. “Thanks.”   The both of you share a little more small talk before you’re on your way. And once farewells are said and done, you don’t look back or peek over your shoulder for another glance at him.    You’re content continuing straight forward.   “Sorry, I’m late.” The door chimes as it slowly shuts after you, the warm furnace heating the air and melting off the coldness of your skin.    “Of course you’d be late.” Yoongi is in his black apron, white shirt rolled up to his elbows and his arms crossed. “We already took the photos, don’t expect that we’ll re-take them.”   “A joy as always, Yoongi.” You smile at him, taking off your jacket and putting it on the coat rack at the corner. Jimin comes to greet you and you sigh softly. “Why’d you ever agree to open a bakery with him, Chim? You must be a saint to deal with his shit all the time.”   “I heard that.”   Jimin laughs. “Trust me, he kept on asking Jungkook when you would come. He’s all bark but no bite,” he whispers but it’s loud enough that Yoongi looks sorely unimpressed.   The shop is cute and spacious. It’s rather modern with square tables and chairs lining the walls. The lights come from the sides of the fancy ceiling, and there’s a counter to check out at with a main glass case where people can choose pastries from. In the corner, there’s also several smaller pastry display cases where patrons can grab trays, tongs and fill up their own plates.    You quickly greet everybody and then move to grab your one prized possession.    “Lemon meringue pie?” Taehyung laughs, watching you put two on your plate.   “You know I just have to.” You smile and sit at one of the tables, luckily having it on the house. Taehyung sits across from you. “Man, you’re so nice to let Yoongi have the entire recipe since it’s yours too.”   He shrugs. “It wasn’t like I had any plans with it in the first place, plus it was Yoongi’s idea to add the secret ingredient.”   “Which is?”   Taehyung grins his infamous boxy smile. “Nice try.”   “I’ll find out one of these days,” you warn. Taehyung handed you the recipe a long time ago but he conveniently omitted the secret ingredient and you haven’t forgiven him since. “And then I’ll be making it for myself every other night instead of giving my pretty penny over to Yoongi and Jimin.”   “Yeah, good luck with that.” He leans back in the comfortable chair. “I’m sure Yoongi will be protecting that from you for the rest of his life. He might be willing to exchange information though if he can get his hands on Jungkook’s chocolate-covered strawberries.”   Taehyung wiggles his brows, but you shake your head with a sigh. “He won’t tell me. I swear he’s holding it above my head so I can never ditch him.”   The man laughs and takes a look around the new shop.   Everyone is here — Hoseok, Jimin, Yoongi, Jungkook, Taehyung, Aeri and you — the entire crew with no one else missing. There are other people as well, sponsors and Yoongi and Jimin’s other acquaintances, but you muse how hard it is these days to gather up like you used to.   Everybody was busy and on their own paths. Doing their own thing. But it’s what made moments like these more precious.   “I would’ve joined them, should’ve,” Taehyung says wistfully with a sigh. “The original plan was actually Jimin, Yoongi, and I.”   “Yeah, but you wouldn’t have been happy.” You take another bite of the pie, chewing in your cheek.   “Yeah, that’s true.”   “Do you regret it? Going back to school?”   “No.” Taehyung smiles gently. “I love learning and I knew after graduation, I wanted to keep learning. I’m not as good at cooking as I am at baking, but it’s still fun and I think I’m getting better. The only issue is Yuna.” The man visibly and dramatically shivers and it elicits laughter from you.   “Does she bother you a lot?”   “Less like bothering and more like she literally pops up wherever I go,” he tells. “Sometimes I’m just minding my own business and then boom, out of nowhere, I turn the corner and she’s there. I’m starting to think she’s like a ghost or like….like…”   “—a witch,” Jungkook finishes and then leans down to plop a kiss at the top of your head. “Hey.”   “Hey.” You smile and he leans down to steal a bite of your pie, but you don’t mind much. “You’ll never guess who I saw earlier.” Curiosity gleams in Jungkook’s eye and you grin, wanting to put him suspense for a little longer. “I’ll tell you about it later, but is everyone grabbing dinner afterwards? I haven’t checked the messages yet.”   “Yeah, we are.”   Soon, Hoseok comes over and introduces his lady-friend that he brought with him as Naul. But you know through advice he’s sought through you a few weeks back that he’s been seeing her and taking it slow.    It’s nice to finally meet someone you’ve heard about, and you find that her calm and collected personality fits into Hoseok’s quite well.   You also meet Jimin’s girlfriend who is sweet and an avid talker about all things deli meats.    At your surprise of how ham supposedly doesn’t taste as good as some other cold cuts, she insists that you and Jungkook need to have a double date with her and Jimin so she can enlighten you on the world of salamis — to which you agree needs to happen. She’s peculiar, but sweet and cute when she’s with Jimin.   “So you’re really going?” you ask after Aeri confirms it. She had told you a month ago that she applied to study abroad and you couldn’t be anything but happy. Especially now that she’s just told you that she’s been accepted, you have nothing but eagerness for her.   “Yeah, I’m a bit nervous, but I’m super excited.”   You pull the girl into a tight embrace. “I’ll miss you, but have fun and stay safe. Stay in touch.”   “Thanks and I will, Y/N.” She giggles against you and pulls apart. “I hear Amsterdam is really nice and my aunt keeps advertising it, so I’m looking forward to it.”   “Apparently, those Dutch men are really something,” you murmur and she laughs. “You know, if I wasn’t in a happily committed relationship and with my dream job, I’d probably ask if I could come with you cause damn, they’re like a tall glass of water. You need to take advantage of that.”   “Who’s a tall glass of water?” Jungkook approaches with a sorely unimpressed expression.   It makes you go tight-lipped and Aeri giggles, slinking away before she’s caught in the crossfire.   While you and Jungkook playfully bicker in the middle of the store and he grabs you in a chokehold and you tickle him — much to the shock of the other patrons who don’t know you — Yoongi looks on behind the counter with a displeased expression.   Except that’s only his natural resting bitch face and not what he thinks internally.   Or at least that’s what Jimin realizes when Yoongi says to him privately— “They’re a pretty good match, huh? Jungkook and Y/N.”   “Yeah.” Jimin smiles, watching the two of you act like children. “They are.”   It’s sad when the opening event eventually ends. The night comes and dinner is soon over too. Everyone ultimately says their farewells, waving before they go off on their own way and you linger just a moment until everyone’s gone. It’s nostalgic to be around them, reminding you of days that seemed simpler and easier, and when you were unaware of these facts.   It’s sad to say goodbye since you don’t know when you’ll see all of them again. At one place. At one time. But at least you have Jungkook with you, so you’re far from being alone.   “Don’t worry,” Jungkook jokes around, “They’ll be back for our wedding.”   “When is that going to happen?” you scoff, looking at him and how his features are illuminated under the lampposts that you pass. You squeeze his hand in yours.    “It’s a surprise,” he answers slyly.   You grin. “And what if I reject you?”   “Then I’ll be a very sad man.”   “And if we don’t work out at all?”   “Then we’ll still be best friends,” Jungkook says and interlaces his fingers with yours. “I’ll always be here for you. Because I’m lame and I think I’ll always be head over heels for you.” He smiles wide, bunny teeth revealed and features soft. “It’s a promise.”   And one you believe in.   Luckily, you and Jungkook never split.   You end up getting married two years later with Aeri as your maid of honour and Taehyung as the best man — the brunette giving you so much anxiety with his spontaneousness that you nearly wish it was Jimin who was the best man instead. But everything ends up without too many hitches or difficulties.   It’s hectic lives that you and Jungkook lead, but ones you love.   Ultimately, the pair of you get a townhouse together halfway between the suburbs and the city. You wind up running Kim’s Wedding Cake Company with Yuna many years down the line after Namjoon and Sejeong step down to retire. And Jungkook achieves his dream of becoming a chocolatier and ends up getting silver in The World Chocolate Masters competition.    The two of you have your first child together one drunken night when you both think it’s a good idea to have sex in your sacred spot — a professional kitchen. It’s the first and last time, swearing you’ll never do it again when you’re both on your hands and knees afterwards, sanitizing the entire area for fear of losing your jobs for the violation of health codes.    But you end up conceiving that night and it’s the first of many kids — rascals with sweet-tooths.   Life with Jungkook is a mundanity you could’ve only dreamed of. And you often count your blessings that you somehow ended with such a cheeky, lovable boy.

[Epilogue]   “And that’s how I met your grandmother.”   There’s a plump toddler sitting on his knee, slobbering as he babbles, and a slightly older girl sitting cross-legged in front of him on the carpet. She’s no more than five years old and blinks up at the old man with matching doe eyes.   “So a stupid man dumped grandma and then you came in and saved her?” she asks in a high-pitched voice.   “Essentially.” The old man nods and takes off his rounded spectacles to place on the small table beside his plush armchair. It’s his special seat for story time, placed under the picture frames of you and Jungkook over the decades, from your graduation to your wedding. “We were friends first and then started to date afterwards, but yes, it’s right to say I did save her.”   “Like a superhero?”   He grins and confirms, “Like a superhero. Now, do you know what the moral of the story is?”   His granddaughter shakes her head. “No. What is it?”   “The way to a person’s heart is through the stomach,” he declares with a smile. “If they like chocolate, you make sure you’re good at making chocolate. You like chocolate, right?”   “I like grandma’s cakes!” she exclaims much to his amusement.   “What nonsense are you telling her?” You’re leaning on the doorframe leading to the kitchen, sighing lightly as you shake your head with your arms crossed.   Your hair is slowly turning gray, but you’re still as attractive — if not even more so. Jungkook always mused how much more beautiful you got the more you learnt and experienced. And he likes the wrinkles around your eyes, even when you don’t. It reminds him of how many times he’s made you laugh over the years.   “Grandma!” Your granddaughter jumps up with a big grin that’s reminiscent of a bunny. She has big doe eyes that seem to sparkle in the afternoon light shedding into the cozy home. “Grandpa was just telling me how you guys met. He said he saved you. Is that true?”   “I saved him, dear.” You pat her head gently. “Without me, your grandpa would be hopeless.”   The older man at his armchair chuckles. “That is true.”   “It’s time for lunch, you three.”   You hold up your grandson and your granddaughter skips towards the kitchen.   Jungkook staggers upwards from his seat with weaker knees and muscles that feel exhausted to the bone. He’s still in rather good shape though for just turning sixty three two months ago. Even when you constantly worry about him, he can still play catch with the kids in the backyard and put them on his back without hurting it much.   When he comes into the kitchen, the two kids are in their seats and busy already digging in. His mug that says ‘Jungkook — World’s Best Chocolatier’ sits at the corner of the fruit place mat you bought at the thrift store. The letters of the mug are worn around the edges, handle chipped at the bottom, but it’s still his favourite.   But Jungkook doesn’t sit down to eat just yet.    He rounds the table and comes to the sink where you’re humming away. He leans his arms on the edge of the counter, standing right behind you and leans in as you turn your head.   Jungkook kisses your cheek. “I love you.”   You smile, the same one he fell in love with all those decades ago when you both were still young students who knew nothing about what was to come. “I love you too.”    Much to Jungkook’s contentment, you lean into him, filling his senses with your scent as you press a soft kiss to his lips. And it’s not bitter whatsoever.   It’s sweet.

[asherlockstudy]

Rhett and Link’s problems with the Enneagram

I have now watched both Enneagram EBs and the second one actually set my gears to work (So Anon here it comes! I promise it was spontaneous).

After listening to Link and mostly Rhett talk about the Enneagram again and again, I realised I have a problem but I can not place its exact root. There is either something fundamentally wrong with the Enneagram itself or maybe it’s Rhett and consequently Link who talk about it in a way that made me feel a little uncomfortable.

My problem and cause of concern was that everything that was said during the two podcasts had a clear negative tone to it. I will have to bring in myself to it to give you an example so bear with me for a paragraph. I did the test and I am a 5 (Investigator - Observer, something like that) which suits me rather well, especially since it agrees perfectly with my Myers-Briggs INTP type. The results said I was a 5w6 (essentially an emotionless analytical robot) which is definitely wrong as I am clearly a 5w4 (a sad mess who analyses the world and searches pointlessly for the true meanings in life and wants to come up with the ultimate all-encompassing philosophy). I mean, OK, they are not described exactly like that but trust me, that’s the point. But despite all the flaws associated with it, especially in the fields of socialising and tremendous procrastination due to an insane fear of failure, I am actually very much in touch with it. I revel in analysing, in trying to see the bigger picture, to make up my own theory about life and the world. It gives me fuel to go on, it fills me with excitement, it gives me a purpose.

Now, what I kept hearing from Rhett and Link are the things they would hope to run away from. I can’t seem to remember a single positive thing they said about their personalities. All traits they mentioned ( which were all pretty one-dimensional for both I dare say) were presented in the context of torturing them and having to confront them. With these insights in their personalities and the spiritual deconstructions earlier, their old (surprising back then) statement that they are “fundamentally sad people” makes more and more sense. Some of their traits, like Link’s care for perfection to the smallest detail and his moral concerns could have been neutral or positive but, no, they are almost all given as clear negatives or at least as things that have an emotional toll on them.

This gives me the impression that Link and especially Rhett have found comfort in studying the Enneagram and try to find an explanation for what they are like, to feel part of a group, represented in their misery. In short, they focus on the analysis of the flaws of their personalities as a part of who they are and avoid dealing with the root that caused said flaws. Link is more self aware while Rhett still struggles to reach the root of it, which is his childhood. Not that he doesn’t know it but he can’t just deal with the people and the situations that impacted him enough to make him a three. For instance, Rhett seems to believe that he is a natural three that his parents made manifest even more strongly. It could be the case or the threeness we observe in him is the direct product of his parents’ constant judgement. By keeping chanting he needs to “be” instead of “do”, I am not sure Rhett will achieve much. Honestly, the one impactful step he needs to take is to stop caring about what his father thinks and I am sorry to say he is still not near achieving this. Especially when I take into account how scared he was during his videocall with his dad in GMM and how relieved he looked after the call was over without drama. In short, my problem with their take in the Enneagram is that it seems that Three is Rhett’s pack of unresolved issues rather than his complete personality type.

Furthermore, Rhett speaks knowingly about all numbers / personality types which proves he consumes passionately all Enneagram information that is available. For a man of his level of active lifestyle, hectic schedule and impatience, this shows that he indeed seeks comfort in finding a detailed description and an explanation for his personality, for the way he feels and acts. What does this mean? Well, that he does not like the way he feels about himself a lot. Not only that, but he is actually in a search of self. At this point, he is no longer cryptic about it but it is more serious than he lets on. He tries to make sense of himself and he tries desperately to find something in himself to love. I hope there are people in his life who let him know that he is worthy of their love, friendship and appreciation even though he is so deep inside his head that even the affectionate feedback can only help so much. Rhett will start finding some peace only if he takes the one step I mentioned above.

And then it seems that Link’s personality type is also exclusively a byproduct of his childhood and is aggravated by his relationship with Rhett. Link’s perfectionism doesn’t cause him enthusiasm - he just dreads the disturbance of his supposedly perfectly stable world. In all honesty, Link doesn’t strike me as an ambitious person. Link would just love to have his dear routine and a loyal person to share it with. Link needs stability and companionship. He is fine with just one person as long as this person contributes to the stability of their bond. Who that one person is in Link’s life is another story…

Link doesn’t care that much about the creative process and, frankly, he doesn’t care all that much about the comedy. Link cares to keep the environment Rhett and he work stable and safe. For Link, judgement from the audience is not as alarming as Rhett’s frustration because of it. Link cares to ensure that Rhett’s idea will be successful enough to keep working and to keep working together. So Link’s entire self-identification as a one seems to stem from his fear of abandonment and worthlessness only. Link fears he has not much to contribute to Mythical and he tries to counteract that by becoming the ultimate source of management and control. Because if he didn’t even manage the company, then what would Rhett need him for? Hence, Link’s obsession for control is a consequence of his fear, he doesn’t necessarily love to be in control for the sake of it. This is proven by his plane example, which shows that he finally relaxes when he does NOT need to be in control.

Link has been working hard most of his life to ensure his position next to Rhett. This brings even more insight in his resentment for Rhett that explodes from time to time. Link resents Rhett because he tries so hard to be always by his side but due to Rhett’s opportunitism, he can’t tell whether Rhett wants his companionship or he simply needs it for their brand. Even worse, Link dreads that the reason Rhett is his friend is because Link feeds his ego with his loyalty and admiration, because he takes Link for granted and not because he loves Link for who he is.

“Do you care for me or do you revel in the fact that I care for you?”

Now, I can’t get inside Rhett’s head but I doubt he uses people. I believe his genuine care for Link can be found in the weirdest examples - those from which Rhett has nothing to gain i.e getting frustrated when Link doesn’t enjoy food as much. Yes, this is a sign of love. Rhett enjoys food so much that he wants to share that enjoyment with Link. He can’t realise Link’s tongue works differently - he thinks Link is missing out and it frustrates him. Another silly example is Rhett buying Apocalypse equipment for a clearly disinterested Link and probably never getting its money’s worth back. This is important to Rhett for some reason and he is concerned enough to protect careless Link as well despite having no personal gain from it.

The truth is that these two men feed off each other; Rhett keeps Link attached to him to always feel worthy and Link keeps Rhett attached to him to always feel safe. However, the fact that Rhett is almost his entire source of safety and that Link is Rhett’s biggest calibrator of worth is indicative of the levels of love and need. Nevertheless, Rhett and Link are not independent people. They were constantly in search of support from one another and they lost themselves in the process of satisfying others or being safe. This is something they are realising only now.

Link’s fear of abandonment is so big that it frequently leads him to an almost paranoid behaviour. It is crazy that he felt left out when Rhett communicated with the audience during a podcast whose key purpose is to… communicate with the audience. His fear here has two sides: 1) that Rhett didn’t consider him an equally important business partner so he preferred to speak directly to the audience and 2) that Rhett isn’t emotionally invested in him in order to open up to him. And by saying he can deceive people if he needs, Rhett doesn’t help Link overcome his huge insecurities. This is why Link begs Rhett to talk to him about his feelings more. He does not understand whether Rhett loves him or uses him. The notion that Rhett doesn’t truly love or appreciate him is one of his biggest fears in life.

As for Rhett, it is certainly huge growth that he starts opening up and being vulnerable to a few thousand strangers yet it all still derives from his need to be accepted by said strangers as I am afraid that the late disproportionate criticism he gets for silly stuff on Twitter and Tumblr surely don’t help him deal with his issues, no matter how hard he tries. Therefore, Rhett is trapped in a vicious circle. Besides, Rhett was overly sensitive to be hurt when Link stated the obvious; that he was being vulnerable in hopes to be understood and accepted, because that was clearly what Rhett was openly doing. However, having someone discussing openly his vulnerability immediately made Rhett retreat back to his shell because no matter how hard he tries, Rhett hasn’t managed to separate vulnerability from weakness in his mind yet.

Long story short, Rhett and Link might be Three and One respectively but I am not sure they have a good understanding of themselves anyway. They may have figured out their types correctly but they certainly narrow their entire sense of being to their unresolved issues and phobias. They entirely lack a sense of self-worth and they probably have not realised the extent of the traumas in their youth. In the Enneagram language, the nine personality types have nine levels of development. I believe Rhett and Link are either in the average levels or the mildest unhealthy level. They are certainly not in the healthy top three levels.

Their obsession with the Ennegram helps only superficially but they seem to have based an illogically huge part of their self exploration on it. The Enneagram might offer some insight but won’t offer the resolutions they long for and badly need in order to find some relief. The ones that come when you confront your environment instead of overanalysing yourself and beating yourself up because of it.

[kkulmoon]

I KNEAD YOU | jhs ✦ m

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You have had your mind filled with indecent thoughts of your spin class trainer, Hoseok, ever since you started taking his classes. However discreet you thought your antics had been, Hoseok had somehow found out and was more than willing to fulfil your fantasies.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hoseok x Reader(f) | 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, pwp? | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cunnilingus, fingering?, slight praising, ass play, he has his hand around her neck, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys~), slight edging, groping, biting, spanking, bathroom sex.

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐲: my muse and soulmate @inkedxclouds​ as well as the amazing @meowxyoong​ (thank u loves <3333)

𝐚/𝐧: nothing to say other than I seem to like butts more than I thought,,,,, also victoria monét’s “ass like that” was the very inspo for this au, cause that song is a bop and for some reason it gave me hobi vibes + “juice” by lizzo (though I doubt the fic gives off that type of vibe but oh well) enjoy 🥺

Three months down the line and you’d think you would have developed somewhat of a sweat resistance by habitually working out. No, not at all. Still as sweaty as ever, but maybe now it was less about hard work, and more about hard want. You relax onto the closed toilet seat sighing deeply at your unfortunate situation. The changing room wasn’t safe and neither was the shared portion of the washroom.

At every and any small intermission you were offered during the heated class, you dashed towards the toilets letting your sweaty fingers hectically slip against the cold metal of the tap handles. The cold water slipping past your fingers as you tapped its remains on your skin, hoping to cool down or at least seem cool enough. But there’s only so much a little bit of cold water could do for your overheated body. As aware as you were about this, you made it a habit, involuntary of course, to let some of that desire out in the confinements of one of the bathroom stalls.

Today is no exception. You rush to the toilet, rugged breaths filling the air as you snap the flimsy lock shut, bending over to roll off your snug cycling shorts. You think back to Hoseok’s instructions : “You should always keep an eye on your breathing while doing vigorous exercise, you want to avoid back pain and strain on your blood vessels.” Back in class you almost let your thoughts tumble through your heaving mouth. “I don’t think exercise is the one doing that”.

As obedient as you are, you let deep puffs reverberate through your chest before diving in. Your hands, tired from clenching hard against the handle of the cycle to stay on it, tremble their way down your folds swinging with the same dynamic present in Hoseok’s glistening legs while he pedals. Your eyes flutter, blinding you from your surroundings, mind tumbling through all the imprinted images of your instructor you have stored in your mind.

That’s all you need. For now.

While you suck at cycling and picking up speed in that circumstance, the image of Hoseok’s huffing mouth, stable legs, and bouncing brown locks, drenched with his hard work, sticking to him the way you wanted him to stick to you, was more than enough for the tentative deep plunge of your fingers to rival the set speed record for your spin class.

Remember: deep breaths Y/N. You slow down, finger languidly straining against your walls. You hit a particular spot, staggering on the one leg touching the ground as your other hand anchors your edged form onto the whimsy bathroom stall walls.

The slow pace allows you to revel in the imagery of Hoseok’s long fingers pointed high in the air to countdown to your thirty second long spinning sprint, imagining those long digits plunged into the same heat your fingers are scissoring. He would know exactly what to do, ordering consecutive gushes of arousal out of you, the same way his fingers point towards your direction when he sees your energy falter.

With Hoseok, nothing but one hundred percent was acceptable. While you couldn’t always keep the promise of giving him just that in all of his classes, if he were to ask you, whether it be after class or somewhere in the lobby of the gym building, you would say yes to showing him where you excelled without fail.

Heart beating a firing rhythm you would snatch his trained fingers to some designated corner of the building, ready to get on your knees and stay there to take it all, the one posture you knew you could manage to keep without fail. Anything for Hoseok really.

Dripping fingers, drying cycling shorts clinging to your heated flesh, you croak out a moan, doing your best to quiet it down in the sleeve of your gym top. “Shit—” your hips buck into your erratic palm as you knead the sensitive flesh of your bud, hissing through clenched teeth.

“What the fuck are you doing to me, Hoseok,” the whispered whine travels to the small cracks of the bathroom stall, the sloppy sounds of your continued assault on your wetness bounce against the walls to fall upon the ears of the figure entering the toilet room.

“Hmmmm, fuck Hoseo—”

Your anticipated wave of pleasure catches your breath, stuttering breaths colouring the air with its warm essence. “Ahhhh,” you sigh into the sensation rippling through your bones, fisted hand sprawling itself across the cool wood of the bathroom stall door. A particular touch of your knuckles against your clit has your nails scratch against the material.

In the heat of the moment, eyelids heavy and ears focused on recalling the authority of Hoseok’s voice, you fail to register the footsteps that sound in the room. Footsteps that stall themselves during your explosive demonstration of your instructor’s effect on your body only to leave the toilet room after you’ve calmed down and said in a condescending yet satisfied tone, “How pathetic, masturbating to your instructor in the bathroom like some teenager. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Puffing out what’s left of your pent up air, you drag your fingers from your settling walls, staring longingly at the wetness and wishing you could be looking at another pair of fingers glazed with your cum.

Hand hanging lazily by your side you do your best to lift your shorts back up to a correct position using your only available hand. You fiddle with the lock, slowly opening the door. You peek to see if there’s anyone there to whom you might reveal your latest conquest  and only probe your head out of the stall when the coast feels clear.

As weak as legs might feel, you do your best to hurry up with the cleaning, washing the product of your forbidden fantasy down the drain just like the possibility of ever actually having the honour to let yourself be used by him in any way he sees fit.

Commanding words and strokes telling you exactly what he wants you to do for him, to give to him and you doing your absolute best to abide with clenched fists and a gagging mouth. You feel yourself fall down the rabbit hole, again, but you bring yourself back with a good shake of your head. You do not have another ten minutes to calm yourself down by attempting to fulfill your own lust.

You take one last look at the mirror to check that you do not look abnormally flustered before you leave to head back into the spinning room, face sweet and innocent, unlike the thoughts trying to invade your mind the moment your eyes focus on their inevitable target.

The hypnotising movement of his lips. Inviting and pink and shimmering from the quick swipe of his pointed lip against the surface. You sigh, in desperation, wishing for the presence of that muscle somewhere else. How pathetic of you, you think, almost releasing a single sobbing sound out of frustration. If only he knew.

You heave yourself into the cycle, fitting your tensed feet into the small caged armor of the pedal, unaware that Hoseok indeed knew and was very much ready to act on it.

His sudden constant and deliberate churning of your increasingly hot figure has you agitated, gaze meeting the floor. It is unusual for Hoseok to get off of his spin bike and personally assist you with your posture. Rather, he settled for quick commanding reminders that were shouted as enthusiastically as possible despite the sternness of his sweating face.

Yet for some reason, unbeknownst to you, he stops spinning and drags his taut slim legs all the way to where you like to stay at the back of the class, to personally adjust your swaying pelvis. “Engage your core. Squeeze your glutes.” He says, the order somehow managing to sound even louder than the blasting music. This is the first time he has touched you. You immediately stop spinning, hips swaying even more than before, chasing the inviting and rough heat of his short finger glove covered hands.

Your heart should have calmed down by the time he got back on his bike, but it doesn’t. You fail to admit to yourself that the coincidental eye contact you had with Hoseok in his classes, was more than enough to throw off your already fumbling posture.

If his wandering eyes are enough for you to follow their movement, accentuating each part that they laid on, his hands on your straining body is all you need to alleviate the ache of your muscles. You turn into a puddle, something that manifests itself right between your legs even before your body comes in contact with his.

“Okay guys, we have another half hour before we are done, so stay with me and there will be a sweet treat at the end,” Hoseok shouts out to the class, bursting your little thought bubble. Your eyes close as you nod, encouraging yourself to pull through, not for the sweet treat but for you. It’s the least you can do given how much you pay for these classes. But what a shame that your eyes are closed, unable to register the hungry and curious gaze Hoseok throws your way.

Twenty minutes have gone by, or maybe just ten? You feel so hot and disoriented from all the effort you’re putting in. Yawning, and trying your best to rid yourself of the final remains of sleep, you had theorised in your car that your goal for this class was to beat your old record, the one you had back when you came to class for the right reasons. Before the thought of riding Hoseok overtook your ambition to get fitter.

Calves burning, every muscle pushing itself to the verge of exhaustion, you think back to your breathing. Your mouth opens and closes as if you are giving birth, trying its best to collect all of the sweat ridden air needed to keep you going.

“Five minutes left. Keep going, you’re almost there!”

Your hanging head, that was focused on counting the sweat droplets falling from your face onto the shiny floor, shoots up to look at your instructor. It must be because of his job as a trainer and a coach that Hoseok flashes you his dashing smile the minute your eyes, gleaming with hope at the prospect of the class soon coming to an end, meets his own soft gaze.

Not wanting to seem rude or like a total nutjob, you tame your panting mouth into a simple smile, no teeth so as to not come across as too excited about something as infantile as eye contact. He winks in response and you swear you almost twist your ankle leaning forward to check if your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

Hoseok’s good at his job. He manages to keep your mind away from the propagating ache in your body as your legs chase time, looking to leave the room with your own small victory. He keeps you rooted and gives you the last bit of energy you need to make it. The timer beeps, startling you. You shake in your seat, breaking your contact with his warm brown eyes. If this is the power of his eyes, what the heck does his body have in store?

As much as you would want to let your mind wander to give you a probable hypothesis to the complicated case that is Hoseok, you’re too far gone to think that deep. Drained and sweaty, your arms dangle on your sides as you let your head lifelessly fall onto the bar of the spin bike. Too weak to push yourself back up but still wanting to know how far you cycled, you roll your drenched head onto the speed counter and stare down at it. At the sight of the double digit number, larger than the previous feat you had achieved, you sigh, a light laugh slipping past your dry lips. Finally some good news. As a way of congratulating yourself, you pat your thighs with the little force you have spared.

The surrounding claps invade your wandering ears, as people shout out, patting themselves in the back and congratulating others for pulling through. Nobody congratulates you but it’s nothing you haven’t had to handle before. Content with your progress, you step off the cycle.

You gather your items, hurrying as you feel the effects of gorging on too much liquid during class. With a drenched towel hanging of your forearm and an empty water bottle in your other hand you speed to the unisex toilet.  

As you set your belongings on the sink countertop, someone enters. You don’t bother to spare them a glance, something you regret the minute Hoseok’s familiar tight fitting cycling top is reflected on the wide mirror. Your head instinctively looks his way to admire the soft slope of his nose and the harsh lines of his profile. He knows you’re looking to which he smirks softly. Your body shifts more to your right, afraid of what other things, sinful things,  you might feel compelled to do if you stay so close to him.

You aggressively pump some soap into your palm, anything to remove the silence etched in the surrounding air. Hoseok does the same, except he does it graciously like everything else he’s ever done.

“Y/N, right?” He inquires, letting a steady stream of water wet his hands as he lathers them.

Your mind tells you he’s simply asking for formality’s sake. Did he plan to keep a conversation with you in the bathroom? How much could you possibly fit into the time it takes to wash your hands? Unless he plans on drawing it out and drying out his skin? Many more questions run through my mind as you bite your lips, eyes staring at the floor until they inevitably wander up his legs.

This is your verbal first interaction with him that doesn’t seem to hint at any subject related to your given roles in the establishment, a trainer and his trainee. No, he’s asking as Hoseok, curious to know about a certain regular Y/N who spends her free time thinking indecent thoughts about his body.

Realising that you’re taking too long to answer to your own name, you blurt out, “YES!” before clearing your throat in hopes to compose yourself. Swallowing thickly, you have another go at it, “I mean, yes, that’s my name. Y/N is me.”

While your ears warm up at your embarrassing behaviour, Hoseok’s soft chuckle manages to overpower the loud hand dryer. Usually, once someone’s done cleaning their hands they leave the bathroom and that’s exactly what you see Hoseok do. You watch him walk up to the toilet room door only to turn back around to face the mirror, doing your best not to let the dejected feeling in you overtake your features.

You breathe in, trying your best to catch your sanity. He was just being nice and trying to  break the tension, one you seem to believe could only be perceived from your side. With eyes closed, you let the cool rush of the water provide some sort of relaxation and solution to your heated body. Your dripping hands reach towards the hand dryer on your side only to reach back when you think about the hot air, you don't need to get fired up again, so you decide to pat yourself dry with paper towels.

Ready to leave, you look up into the mirror to take one last inspection at your face.

Oh.

Hoseok’s eyes catch your own. He’s leaning against the toilet’s room door frame, head slightly hanging to his side and tongue dancing calmly in the small intrusion between his lips. You thought he left?

You want to look away, but you can’t. Not only because of the demanding energy coating his eyes, but also because of the entrancing way he runs a hand past his hair, heel kicking against the door as he pushes himself off of it.

He darts towards you. Or at least that’s what it feels like to you. An overwhelming wave of desire coats your senses forcing your legs to stagger backwards as your butt comes in contact with the hard and cold edge of the sink counter.

Those hands, those fingers, the ones you’ve fantasied about having buried inside of you or stuffed in your mouth, find their way on each side of you anchoring themselves on the hard surface as Hoseok corners.

He’s close. Close enough to hear your shallow breathing, to notice your confused yet intrigued eyes and to smell the fertilised desperation in your body. Head somewhat leaned down so as to reach your gaze, he lets his eyes take their own free tour around your face, mouth slightly parted.

“I don’t think it’s pathetic at all,” he breathes out, sloping down to bathe your hot ears in his warm breath, “it’s cute, actually.” The sweet tone is almost enough to deceive you of his intentions but the prominent scraping of his teeth against your earlobe makes it clear.

Your chest curls into itself at the action, slipping down, out of reach from his inviting mouth. You want to think it’s a coincidence that Hoseok references your words from earlier but to simply think isn’t enough, you need to confirm it. “Uhmm… I don’t kn–ow what you’re referring to.” It comes out more jagged than you intended to as he steps closer, so as to almost graze your heaving chest.

A pout on his lips, his gaze zig zags across your features, “See, cute.”

You feel like you’re melting. Your face finds refuge in the minor protection of your shoulder as you squeeze your eyes shut. This is all you had thought about. To have Hoseok look at you as if he already knew what is obscured from his sigh, for now, a sight he couldn’t wait to explore. To let his eyes, hands and mouth colour his imagination into reality.

“I mean that it would be nice if I could show you what I can actually do to you.” If you were properly breathing before you sure you aren’t anymore. His voice is covered with sweetness and curiosity. It acts as both a gentle threat and a request. He could and would show you.

The rub of your knee against his thinly clothed thigh says yes before you manage to catch enough air to utter an eager “please”, eyes opening to stare at his chest. “Go ahead,” at the sight of your yearning eyes he encourages you. The thin elastic material did little to protect your sanity from the hardness of his body.

Had your eyes been closed, you could have been fooled into believing that you were touching his naked chest. You pinch the material, tugging it off his skin only to let it slap back down. Something that brings a soft smile to Hoseok’s shifting lips. Hoping that he understands your wordless request, you repeat the action a couple more times.

He dodges your eyes more than once, letting his playful side show, before he leans into you. Your lips collide, strong enough to have your head inclined against the mirror, your body moving upwards at every hungry push of his determined body. You latch onto him, hands lacing themselves around his straining biceps as you match the feverish dance of his tongue.

If your moaning wasn’t already evidence enough of your state, Hoseok’s willingness to offer more encourages him to run a slow swipe of his delicate hands up your thigh and dangerously close to where you’ve imagined him placing every class that you’ve attended. The touch is prominent enough to have you squirming, letting whiny moans spill into his smirking lips as your legs bring him closer.

But Hoseok’s gentle yet clear tapping of your thighs tells you he has something else in mind. “Stand back up.” The order is clear yet in your current hazy state, you slide off the counter anticipating your weak landing, something Hoseok takes care of by pushing you flush against him.

Following through, he presses his long fingers in the soft flesh of your ass, spreading your cycling shorts covered cheeks all while pushing you closer to his straining cock. Spread out, head shying away from looking at his face, he leans in with a soft whisper, “Now tell me, kitty, how did you get an ass like this?”

Timid hands roam across his hard frame as your intended whisper becomes a rushing gasp, pulled out from you by Hoseok’s prominent kneading of your ass, “You.”

“What did you say, sweetheart?”

Hesitant, and quite frankly too hot to think straight, you let it all spill out.

“It’s because of you. You gave me an ass like this.”

“Huh, you think so?” His stretched palm travels up and down your clothed cheeks. You don’t respond letting the steady stream of strained moans be an answer in itself. “So you’re saying, my classes gave you this juicy ass,” He hisses out, firmly squeezing the jiggly flesh.

You nod your head against his shoulder, humming in agreement, the cadence at which the soft moans escape intensifying. Moans that you attempt disguise by biting into his cycling jersey.

“Don’t you think I should get to enjoy what I created?” The implications of his question makes your breath hitch.

What is he thinking of doing. Anal? Eating your ass? Spanking? Your mind is in haywire but you know what you think.

“You can do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

You nod once again, hardened buds tickling his covered chest. All Hoseok does is smirk at your eagerness.

“Not today, kitty,” he pushes lightly against your breasts, making your shiver at the friction, turning you around with a swift hand as he shakes his head, “I like it from the back.”

You’re now facing the mirror, able to notice the distraught state of your body as your desperation creeps further into your limbs. Hoseok finds himself caging you in again, but while you could have hid your warming face in his chest before, now you’re completely exposed.It’s something that brings a playful expression to his features.

As if he wasn’t already close enough to you, Hoseok drives his eager hips into the heated plumpness of your butt and your fingers tense further around the edge of the countertop. Every hitching breath of yours is complemented with his groans.

“What a beautiful ass I’ve made,” he says, pride in his voice as he crouches down behind you to give each cheek its own shameless squeeze. “Don’t you agree?”

“Hmm,” you hum breathlessly before a pointed strike to your cheek makes it clear that that’s not how he wants you to respond. Nodding, head straining backwards to catch Hoseok’s dark gaze, your knees buckle driving your ass closer to his face while you whine out a stuttering yes.

Hoseok’s your trainer. He knows how breathing works during physical activities and makes it known that, whether or not you’re in class, he rules still apply. It’s soft, yet commanding whispers to not forget to breathe or he will stop, tingling confessions that let his appetite for your body infest your nerves as you delve deeper into despair. You want his cock inside of you and, unlike your willingness to wait, his patience is much greater.  

The continuous sway of hips quickens his breaths, and they land on your shoulder where they leave shivers that travel down your spine forcing you to shimmy your ass into his crotch even harder. “Come on, kitty, patience.” He breathes out, biting your scalding shoulder.

“Nghh, but plea—,” the hard slap that lands on your misbehaving cheeks has you stiffening, hands slipping against the glass. At this point you’re sure you’re not going to sit down on your train ride back home. Hoseok seems to want to leave you sore and marked.

“I said patience. I will give you what you need when I want to.” You nod lazily, not that your mind registers the sentence, but the alarming tone has you on your best behaviour.

Your compliant action earns you a few sloppy kisses along your covered shoulders, his hands snaking upwards to catch the zipper and let it slide down as you bend, body yearning for his touch until his determined hands engulf your freed and neglected mounds.

“Hmmm, just as soft and juicy as your ass.” He moans loud and clear and you fear someone outside might hear. Yet it still makes you melt onto his hard body. “Hose—yes, like that, ahhhh.”

Hoseok, given his position, does like orders, something he lets you know by running his fingers around your perked buds and squeezing them so hard you screech and bend even deeper. Fuck. As much as it hurts it also feels so good; your watering folds are proof enough.

“I don’t like to repeat myself, Y/N. Misbehave and I’ll keep drawing this out, leaving you wet and begging for me.” His tone is calculated and laced with a certain layer of pity that has you whining as you place one hand on his forearms to turn around and meet his eyes.

You witness the slowed blinking of his eyelids and hope that he can decipher your distressed eyes that ask for more. While Hoseok cares for his trainees, he likes to push them to see how far they can go. That’s what the smirk creeping up on his lips tells you.

“All in due time, kitty. First, let me taste something that I want to make mine.” One confident hand pats your dripping pussy to further awaken your sensitive nerve endings. Your thighs instinctively snap shut capturing his hand. Hoseok catches your eyes in the mirror, shaking his head before delivering another strike to your ass.

“Ahhh, shit,” you bite your quivering lips and let your hesitant thighs part to welcome the sweet slide of Hoseok’s fingers past your clothed folds as he hums in approval at the present wetness. “Just how I like it.” The praise compels a soft smile on your end.

You can’t hide the confusion that coats your features when he suddenly extracts his hand, something that has him snickering to himself. He enjoys torturing you and you want to complain but you don’t think your ass could handle anymore pain so you suck up your remarks along with some air.

Your head dances around, left to right and back again trying to figure out what exactly he plans to do as he crouches back down to face your butt. Before you can enquire in order to save yourself from any surprise attacks, he dives his head into the expanse of your globes shaking it as you squeal trying your best not to lose your stance.

He hums deeply, breathing in your scent and you whimper once his wet tongue pokes out to slide along your pussy lips, his saliva mixing in with your oozing arousal. His arms snake around your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh to push you further against his face. “Fuck, your kitty is dripping for me.” You manage to hear the muffled sound above the blend of his groans and your stumbling moans. But for once Hoseok doesn’t abide by his own rules as his hands rush to the hem of your cycling shorts, wanting nothing more than to rip them apart, to have you bare as to allow him to witness your clenching pussy– soon to be his pussy.

Exposed and wet, ready for him since the day you laid eyes on him, you stare down at his soft brown locks, where your hands will find refuge in shortly, and try your best to examine his eager expression through hooded eyes. He has your right leg up on his shoulder and you let the rhythm of his stroking hand guide your breaths. “So fucking pretty,” his other hand travels up your other thigh, “and wet,” he bites his lips leaning into your drenched center, “and mine.”

It’s only one lick but you already feel like falling apart, hands squeaking against the mirror. “Ahhh shit,” your hips move on their own accord, meeting his hot appendage and coating it with your increasing neediness. Either Hoseok doesn’t mind or your eagerness, looking to satisfy your own urge, doesn’t register in his mind as all that’s there is the goal to have you trembling and gushing all over his hungry mouth.

For each lap at your folds, he takes a breath away. Your fingers find the courage to place themselves on his head, soft hair left to be scrunched in your clenched fist. His head moves vigorously up and down, drinking up your juices under feverish groans and needy hands that latch on the cheeks of your ass to keep you from staggering away.

His tongue drives your pants, saturating your cunt with pointed licks coupled with soft nibbles at your throbbing clit, an action that has you quivering in surprise. “So fucking sweet,” he drags out the suckling of your vulva as he hums, satisfaction clear on his face as his tongue slides across his bottom lips. You mewl, hips bucking into the empty air. He plants a soft kiss on your heat, “Just for me. How cute.”

“Hoseok, please,” your strained plea runs from your lips without much thought to meet his mocking pout. You’re so close, you just need him to keep lapping at your soaked entrance, feasting on your juices and you would come undone before you know it.

However Hoseok seems to have other plans in mind as he stands back up, the straining in his pants all the more noticeable in his tight shorts. He leans in to kiss your neck, holding your behind flush against his cock. “Unfortunately, I can’t eat you out until you fall apart. We wouldn’t want anyone to come open the door, now would we?”

Your want has made you forget your predicament. You’re in the bathroom of your gym, ready to have the trainer you’ve been daydreaming about rail your neediness away. He made sure to lock the door but someone could soon start asking questions, looking for staff to complain to. Staff who would surely hurry to unlock the door, after all client satisfaction is important. Something that Hoseok is very aware of.

You shake your head as his husk approval meets your slick ear, “Good kitty.” He bites the shell of your ear, scraping against the heating flesh, “Now spread your legs for me.” You shuffle your feet side to side following his orders, legs too heavy to lift. “You’re doing so good for me,” he says, hoping to reassure you as his hands leave your body and you watch him, in the mirror, slide his pants down to expose his erect and flushed cock.

You almost turn around on instinct, one based on your countless dreams of having him in your mouth, weighing down your tongue. But you stay put, resorting to ogling his long and pretty dick. Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind as his hand goes to stroke lazily at the throbbing length while continuing to keep his distance from you.

His eyes lock with yours and you whimper because you know exactly what you could do to that dick of his if he’d just let you. However, he’s adamant on having his way with you. Maybe another time? Maybe. You close your eyes to let the sour thought of this being a one time occasion wash away and let Hoseok’s touch bring you back to the moment at hand.

His hand digs into the flesh of your hips and your needy heat clenches around empty air at the sweet and slow slide of the fleshy and precum glazed tip of his cock. Hoseok’s likes to drink up your reactions, staring into the mirror to admire your furrowed brows, your open mouth and your squeezed eyelids as he continues to run his pulsating member up and down your slit. He slips up, his enthusiasm getting the best of him as the tip grazes your clit and you bite into your clenched fist, your moan still managing to seep through.

Hoseok’s chest leans into your back as he places one of his hands above yours. He orders your gaze to meet his, the other hand hiding between your bodies to position himself at your entrance.

“This is gonna be just like our sprints in class. Are you ready, kitty?”

You munch on your wet lip, and repeat, through your panting mess, the only the only two words that seem to be in your mind, “Hoseok plea—ahhh”

His hard cock eases into your needy walls, slowly filling you up as his other hand moves back to restrain your only free hand. Chest against back, hands weighing on yours, and forehead bent down against your shoulder, he bottoms out and you release a combined sigh. You shut eyes spring open to stare at the delightful connection between your edged bodies. You can’t comprehend the situation, nor do you try to. This is really happening, huh?

It feels too good. Too good to be true and too good for your practically spasming pussy. Hoseok’s calm approach is short-lived, his second thrust as frantic as your breaths. The force at which he moves inside your slick walls, force strong enough to have the edge of the sink countertop dig against your stomach.

Your hand reaches back to hold onto his shoulder, trying your best to stay stable as each continuous attack of his hips sounds against your tender ass. Hoseok drags his dick out, making you moan and pant so much you’re clouding the mirror. He eagerly snaps back against your straining tightness, bottoming out as he puffs out laboured breaths and you gasp into your trembling shoulder. “Yes, yes, right there,” you sigh in between ragged breaths

He delivers another pointed thrust, pumping himself deeper into your warmth, “Here?” He breathes out and you nod hastily.

You can feel the short yet intense slap of his balls against your ass, the thrill of it all making you bend to spread your legs even further apart. Your face only centimeters away from the cold, metal tap, you shriek feeling the weight of Hoseok’s imprints on the small of your back as he pounds your sopping pussy. “Shit, all of this for me?” He pants, delivering his beloved strikes on the ass he’s made.

With your current limited vocabulary all you can do is nod, head bracing itself in the crook of your arm. Chasing your own pleasure, all while melting on the wonder that’s Hoseok’s cock, you move your hips to meet the now frantic pummelling of his straining dick.

One of his hands migrates to surround the soft and tender flesh of your neck as he pulls you up to reveal your fucked out gaze. “So fucking pretty.” He suckles the skin of your neck, biting into it to suppress his own moans. You wrap your hand around his forearm, chanting your go-to high-pitched request once again, this time managing to add one more word, “Hoseok, please, harder.”

Your heart is about to leap out of your chest at sight of the soft gaze he throws under heavy eyelids. “Anything for you, kitty.” And he gives you just that. He pumps in and out, hard, hand still around your neck, more so as a sweet gesture to help your head stay put as he admires his work. His other arm pushing you flush against his body, mushing your ass cheeks against his crotch. A feeling he welcomes with a low hiss.

Hoseok’s dick pulsates against your walls, as they suck him deeper, his length allowing him to graze spots in you nobody has touched before. The quick and pointed hammering makes your breath stutter. You’re so close, you think, but fail to communicate, mouth unable to form any coherent sounds apart from heavy moans and whines.

You spare a glance in Hoseok’s direction, to see his head nested in the crook of your neck, eyes shut and his cheeks puff out for every passionate thrust he delivers. Warmth, not the kind that comes from your current vigorous activity, but the one that’s born out of hope for more, overtakes you only this time you have no wish to dispel it.

Your free hand meets your sensitive bud, rubbing circles as his cock continues to make a mess of you. He must have felt the soft graze of your fingertips against his hot girth as his hands move to meet yours. He slides his fingers past your slick coating fingers that are soon placed back on your clit. Digits dancing around each other, your chest stutters into the bliss, back morphing into the bend of his chest. “Oh,Hos– ahhh, I’m clo–se.”

Hoseok finds the sounds that leave you endearing, a smile stretching along his lips. “Go on kitty, let my pussy cum all over me.” You shut your eyes, lips pressed against each other, glutes clenched to Hoseok’s striking approval, letting your pent up and often castoff desire for a certain man with a blinding smile, and inspiring ethic rush over your limbs, choked moans leaving your once sealed lips.

He thrusts on every breath intake, adamant on literally taking your breath away as his own unraveling follows shortly. Even in this state of frenzy, he manages, ever the professional and hard worker, to land his last thrusts just where he wants them. Deep within you, before he snatches his hypnotising member away from your ever yearning heat to decorate your back with a fat load, as he grunts out, “Ugh, hmph–mine.”

Strikes of white cum hit you as you sigh, trying your best to regulate your breathing all while hitting your face to convince yourself of the reality of the situation. You just fucked your trainer. The one you’ve been fantasising about for the past three months. You try to find some sort of guilt, looking to appease your mind and assure yourself that nothing bad will come out of this.

You’ll still be able to attend your lessons each week, sitting down at your same spot, staring ahead at him indifferently as he manages to not even break a sweat during his excruciating classes. You tell yourself that you’re sure everything will go back to normal once the two of you step outside the sex stenched toilet room. Everything will be just fine. You almost believe it, until you’re brought back to the present moment, as he swipes a cool water drenched paper towel against your ruined slit. Yeah, this is bad.

Mixing fantasies, longing stares and care can only lead to one possible thing. A bus you doubt he would jump on if it were to show up at his door steps. You scramble to retrieve the towel and proceed to clean yourself. Hoseok jumps at your less than gentle action, but decides not to give it much thought, unlike you.

“Thanks,” you attempt to lessen your rude behaviour. He gives you a lopsided smile, winking away your weakly established reassurance that you’ll manage not to think about this encounter from a point of view that’s filled with craving feelings and expectations.

“That was nice.”

You fail to suppress the laughter that’s screaming to be released, to see him flustered has you smiling, nodding reassuringly at his statement.

“Very nice, indeed,” you respond, throwing away the towel as you join Hoseok in putting your cycling shorts back on and closing the zipper of your cycling jersey.

Your eyes travel across the room to make sure that nothing is terribly out of place or different before your hands stroke down your front while you stare at the now silent man. You wait, expecting him to say something, wanting him to. When he doesn’t seem to have it in his plans to speak again, you turn around to walk towards the key he left in the lockset of the door.

A loud cough sounds behind you and you snap around, eyes eagerly staring at him to notice the full blown smile on his glowing face, making your heart skip.

His fingers gestures towards his back and once he notices your confused expression, he articulates his concern with a small laugh and scratch to his neck, “Uhm, you kinda forgot the back, my…. yeah, is still there”

“Oh,” you turn around to look at your back through the mirror. The sight alone of his cum has your mouth watering and legs clenching, something that doesn’t go unnoticed to Hoseok’s focused eyes. Just the reassurance he needed to feel like you weren’t completely regretting what just happened. “Right.” You sidestep him to reach for some more paper towels, hands trying their best to clean it up only to end up smearing it even more.

Hoseok’s hand reaches out. “May I?” Sighing you nod, discarding the ruined towels in the bin.

On second thought, you should have said no and struggled through the clean up on your own. The soft press of his digits against your back ignites your skin and pulls you back to the not so distant events in your mind. Your sharp breath intakes at each touch from his body further aids Hoseok in building back his confidence.

You definitely liked him, or at least your body did. He thinks and he would definitely not mind a repeat, preferably somewhere where he did not need to worry about time or intruders and where he could knead your ass to his heart’s content.

Once done, you step away, this time thoroughly cleaned and ready to leave. You turn back to follow your previous path, hand clenched around the key refusing to unlock the door as you await another interjection from his part. To unlock the door means this is finally over and as much as you might not believe this to be your best decision, you still want to bask in the awkward sweetness of the aftermath, just for a few more seconds. But Hoseok stays silent this time.

Your hand weights down on the handle, pushing it towards you. Sighing, you are brought back to reality as you stare at the bypassers outside of the toilet room. Your hand releases the handle, walking out and heading towards the changing rooms.

Your steps are slow, ready to halt upon his request. Yet, all your ears can hear is the shuffling of hurried feet and the sound of other classes taking place. Soon enough, you’re walking slow out of dejection rather than apprehension.

“Hey! Y/N!” Your skin shivers at the timbre of the familiar voice and you walk faster to stop a bit further away. You don’t want him to think that you were waiting for him.

Your body whips around, using the little resolve you have left to mask your delight at the sight of him.

“I’ll see you next week,” it comes out as a blend between a question and an affirmation and you can see in his eyes that he needs you to clarify the nature of his statement for him. To let him know there could in fact be more than today.

“I’ll see you next week, Hoseok.” You smile sheepishly as you turn around to scurry towards your intended destination, squealing into the palms of your hands. Hands that had touched him and had been caressed by him. Ultimately, hands that couldn’t wait to knead him the way he kneaded you.

Posted: July 16 2020

a/n: feel free to share any feedback, it’s always deeply appreciated 🥺

[bucky-iss-bae]

Right Person Wrong Time (Steve x Reader)

Soo this was a request from AGES ago - so sorry for taking so long with it. Hope I’ve done this justice xoxo 

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Request: Would you ever do a Steve imagine of maybe used to be friends or date and one day he sees you in town either pregnant or with a kid so he thinks your married but the father isn’t in the picture for whatever reason you like ❤️❤️

(IF you wanna request something - I’m always available) 

Warnings: None... that I can think of. 

Word Count: 1600

A/N: This was kind of a shambles, I didn't get to do what I imagined when I wrote this, and I’m thinking of doing a part 2... potentially maybe xoxo 

Masterlist

Steve was shocked when he saw you. It had been nearly 2 years since he had last seen you, and letting you go had been the biggest mistake in his life. Yet of all the cafes and coffee shops in Brooklyn, there you sat. A laptop in front of you, papers surrounding you, and coffee, most likely a chocolatey Frappuccino in front of you. He saw a cupcake wrapper, and another cupcake on another plate beside your notebook. He couldn’t help but just stare, in awe of your beauty. You were glowing. He knew how successful you’d become; he was sad that he wasn’t a part of it. But was so proud whenever he saw your name on the front of a book shop, or your book title named as number one.

Yours and Steve’s relationship was the definition of ‘Right person, wrong time’. You were both in love, a love that hasn’t died for him. A love that would never die. But the two of you were in two different parts of your lives, after a hectic few years he was settling back into life, whereas you were in the process of getting your first book published. It was difficult for you both, but you left on good terms, the both of you believing in if its meant to happen, you’ll cross paths once again.

This time he did cross paths with you, you hadn’t noticed him, shocked at that considering Bucky and Sam were arguing behind him over what to order, and Bucky refusing to go beyond black coffee.

But he was too late. He stared at your prodding baby bump realised you were well on your way to having everything you wanted. A family, a baby.

“Holy shit. Is that Y/N” Steve heard Sam ask, Steve turned to tell him to be quiet but it was too late, you had already seen the trio.

You smiled when you saw them, happy to see them, Especially Steve. You were shocked at how your heart still leapt out of your chest when you saw him, all those feelings you’ve harboured deep within you resurfacing. Steve Rogers was your first and only love. Nearly everything about your relationship was perfect, the two of you fit together like a jigsaw piece. You blended in well with his family, despite them being literal superheroes. It just meant that you could ask them questions about how fights work for some scenes in your book, or you were able to ask first-hand information on how different injuries could work. All the research you usually spent hours doing, you could just ask.

But most importantly you were in love with how Steve would do anything for you, he became your person, and his friends became a family to you. He was the one that got away.

You got up when you saw them, you saw Sam and Bucky’s shock to your baby bump, but Steve not as much. He must’ve realised you were here before you had seen or heard them.

“Shit Y/N” Sam said walking up to you and giving you a hug, “I’ve missed you, how you been?” After he hugged you Bucky also went up to you giving you the same treatment,

“You just gonna stand there Stevie?” You asked putting your arms out,

He smiled and hugged you, as soon as he had done, the both of you could feel the warmth and electricity that was still there after all this time.

“You boys in a rush, or did you want to join me?” You asked them,

“We’ve got nowhere to be” Bucky said, warily looking across at Steve, so the three of them went to join you at your table.

“Sorry for all this. It’s just, I’m getting through hopefully the final draft, and its so close to being perfect”

“We read your first one. It was amazing by the way, congratulations.” Bucky said,

“Thank you” You smiled, “That was a different stress, this it’s almost like I need to live up to that same potential. It’s painful because of how many opportunities could come from this”

“Hopefully you’re not stressing too much though huh?” Sam asked, “There’s a lot to congratulate you for”

You chuckled at that and stroked your bump, “Awh, yeah, my life, it’s taken a complete turn. It was a long process, don’t get me wrong. But I’m happy”

Steve’s heart sank slightly at that, knowing you were happy, yet the person you were with wasn’t him. He of course wanted you to be happy, but he figured the two of you would always grow old together.

“You deserve to be happy Y/N” Steve said, speaking up for the first time. His voice still sent shovers down your spine, in a good way of course.

“Who’s the lucky man?” Sam asked diving in straight for the difficult questions, that caused you to laugh a little.

“Don’t get me started Sam. Would you judge me if I said I don’t know” You had a cheeky smile on your face, loving when you told people this.

The three men looked at you confused. They were confused because you were never the type to have one-night stands. Steve instantly worried knowing you would be going through all of this alone.  The other two just shocked at what you said.

“You know, we’ve got an amazing lab, I’m sure with the right DNA sample, someone could find out and track the father down” Sam suggested,

You shook your head, a smile still on your face, risking a glance at Steve, “I meant to get pregnant. Wait no. I went through ‘Artificial Insemination’, I just, I always said that before I turn 30 I want to be a mom. And I know its selfish of me, but I just… I wanted to be a mom, and figured now’s the perfect time. My 2nd book had started going through the editing process when I made the decision. And well after a long and complicated process, 6 months later here I am”

“So you’re single?” Steve asked causing Sam to snort,

You nodded at that, “Yup. As single as I can be, with a bun in the oven though of course”

The two boys looked at Steve, and then you. The two of you making eyes at each other. You were shy to announce that you’re planning on becoming a single mother. But the other two you had seen as brothers, and Steve is Steve. Steve was staring at you with the same look he always gave you. A look that you knew that he was still in love with you, but instead he looked proud.

“Hey Buck, I think they’re calling our name, let’s go” Sam said grabbing Steve from beside you, the two of them leaving.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been in shock I think since I’ve seen you” Steve mumbled while rubbing his thumb over your hand,

You nodded, “I know. It’s okay though. How have you been?” You asked Steve,

“I’ve… been good. I’ve missed you. That’s for damn sure, but I’ve been good. Better than I was. Living in the Avengers compound at the moment. Rent around here is unnecessary. How about you, I’m just… so prod of what you’ve made of yourself. I always knew that your books would become best sellers. Seeing your name on the shelves. I couldn’t explain the feeling.”

“It means a lot” You whispered, “It shocked me. I didn’t expect to become as big as I had done. A lot of good things have been coming my way since. And with this baby, its like everything for me is nearly perfect”

“Nearly huh?” He asked looking at you with a twinkle in his eyes,

“I mean Mr Rogers, I just… I missed you like hell as well. I always figured you were the one that got away. And seeing you stood there, it just, those feelings never went away”

“They didn’t?” He asked, “Then you should know that I’m still madly in love with you as well.”

“We’ve both changed so much though…”

“I don’t care. Change is good right. We always said if we crossed paths once again…”

“But I’m pregnant” you then added,

“Makes it all the more perfect. Let me take you out. On a date. Let me woo you like I used to, let me make you mine again. Only if you let me”

“You want to still take me out?”

“It’s only ever been you” He said shaking his head, “Everyone knows that.”

You couldn’t help the smile that had crossed your face, everything would really be perfect now if you did have Steve by your side. You eyes were slightly glistening in happy tears, and he had a concerned look on his face,

“It’s hormones” you said shaking your head, “I just… I’m happy. It sounds weird, because I’ve only just seen you. But I’m so happy to see you Steve. It just… it makes everything perfect. I’m being Dramatic I know. But again hormones, me being happy”

He smiled at that, “It’s not being dramatic. I’ve got you Y/N. And I’m not missing any of it from now on. We’ll get back to where we were, and we’ll get there together”

It was true, you believed Steve’s words. Because something about the two of you connected. It always had. Steve believed this to. When he saw you, your pregnant stomach, he still had hope as selfish as it may seem. But a thought that also went through his head that it was too late, he hadn’t loved you enough when it mattered, and now someone else did and you would never be his. The thought crushed him, it broke his heart because for him, you’re it. But he’s been given a second chance, the same way he had done at life, he knew with this second chance, the two of you would start the perfect family.

A/N - Like I said, I wanted this to be better, but it is what it isssss - also nil kinda got some inspo from ‘The Backup Plan’ 

[pearl-pilots-in-chains]

Ice Cream Expertise (All the Little Lights #1)

Fandom: Neon Genesis Evangelion

Ships: Kawoshin

Rating: G

Summary: Shinji is faced with a dilemma of sorts, and is characteristically indecisive. Fortunately, Kaworu is there to give some helpful advice. Or maybe just call himself an ice cream expert. Let's be honest, it's a bit of both.

Notes: This is intended to be the start to All the Little Lights, my attempt at a relatively happy Evangelion high school AU featuring the pilots we know (and maybe love) actually getting to live a normal life (including all the cute gay romance they deserve). That said, it also works totally fine as a one shot. Considering it's an AU, there's going to be some rather interesting deviations from canon, some of which are alluded to here. So, if something seems off, that's probably because it is.

As usual, any errors, grammatical or typographical, are mine. I apologize in advance.

This was originally posted to my old AO3 on May 21, 2020. I hope you enjoy it!

_________________________________________________________

Shinji Ikari was not having a good day. No, perhaps that was an understatement. He was having a distinctly bad day. School had been tedious to say the least, considering that testing week was approaching, and the teachers seemed to be doing their best to “prepare” the students using every form of academic torture known to humankind. Okay, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it had been a hectic hell all the same. Not to mention the fact that his best friend Touji was going through a rough patch (not the first one, mind you), with his girlfriend Hikari, which led to a tense mood within their friend group outside of class as well. Adding onto this was the fact that he was getting worried about his sister (what wasn’t new?) Rei, who had been especially quiet the past week or so, even by her standards. That was usually a sign that her depression was going through a rough spot. He had wanted to mention something to his mother about it, considering she usually had better luck at getting through to Rei than he did when his sister was going through a difficult time, but unsurprisingly, he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. He was gone too often, and his mother was gone too often. There was all of a one to two hour period when they were both home and awake on any given night. Rei always ending up alone probably doesn’t help her state of mind improve either. I wish she had more friends. People she could connect with.

And, of course, to top all that wonderful baggage off, he had had work after school, which had gone lovely. Just lovely. A simply wonderful group of customers had come in, and stayed for a better part of three hours, ordering intermittently while they all talked (way too loudly, in his opinion) at their shared table, which, in a predictable move, they hadn’t even bothered to clean off. He was a barista, not a waiter, despite what some people seemed to think. To make matters worse, they had been laughing so hard partway through their “discussion,” that one of the party had practically flung her iced latte through the air by accident (how someone could do that by accident, was a whole other topic for conversation), sending its contents flying halfway across the room (in a bafflingly impressive display, he had to admit, as irritating as it was). Of course, he had drawn the short straw and been the one tasked with cleaning it up. His boss seemed to get a special satisfaction out of giving Shinji all the “fun,” jobs. Okay, maybe Mr. Anno’s not that bad, but he still gets a kick out of watching me suffer. Or something like that.

Shinji sighed as he pulled his car into the store parking spot. As he exited it, he glanced down at his phone. 7:16. That meant he should have enough time to get home and get dinner going before his mother got home. These days, it seemed as though she worked progressively later and later. It had been a couple months since she’d been home before 8. She was almost certainly still out at the base at that moment. Whatever project she’s working on now is one of the more intensive ones.

He headed for the doors. He was planning on making stir fry, which meant that he needed to get soy sauce for sure, since he knew they had run out from the last time. He thought they had most of the rest of what he needed at home. So, this should be a quick run. Just in and out. After a day like today though, he was tempted to grab something sweet. Come on, after this whole mess, I think I at least half deserve something to take my mind off of it. Just a little.

Inside, he made a bee line for the condiments aisle. Alright, first things first. Get what I need. Then, maybe, I’ll just check out what they have. He grabbed soy sauce, and then wavered for a moment, trying to decide just for what he was in the mood. Okay, just something little. Nothing too big. I am going to be cooking, after all. Hmmm . . . I mean, it’s probably not the best idea, but . . .

Making his decision, he set off for the frozen section. Once again, he paused when he arrived at the aisle, looking through the glass freezer doors at the available options. I’ll just get a pint. That should be more than enough. Even if Rei goes for some too. ‘Cause mom hardly ever eats anything sweet, so I doubt she’ll have any. He tilted his head, tapping the soy sauce bottle against his thigh as he considered the selection. Why are there so many flavors? I didn’t even realize they sold Pumpkin outside of November. And Lime-Raspberry? What would that even taste like? Who comes up with these things? I’ll go for something classic. I could always do Vanilla. But, that’s a little boring. I don’t even really like it that much. Chocolate’s always classic, except that Rei doesn’t like it. And her favorite is Cookie Dough, which I don’t like the texture of . . . there are way too many choices here. Running his eyes over the racks, he did a quick count. Forty-two different flavors. Why are there forty-two different flavors? I wonder if anyone’s ever tried them all. Then again, that might take a while. And be kind of pricey. Dammit, I’m getting distracted again. The only conclusion that Shinji was coming to was the fact that he liked ice cream far too much, and was wasting far more time than he should be trying to pick out something. Maybe I should just get the soy sauce and head home. He peaked down at his phone. 7:29. Yeah, I’ve already been here longer than I should be.

A voice interrupted Shinji’s thoughts. “So, what’s your drug of choice?”

Shinji head snapped to the side, his concentration broken. “What?,” He asked, a little surprised.

The source of the interruption was standing a little further down the aisle, casually leaning on one of the freezer windows, his head cocked to the side, watching Shinji with a friendly smile on his face. Shinji thought the interrupter looked to be about the same age as him, though that fact was complicated slightly by the fact that though his face was youthful, his hair was an ashen grey. He must dye it. Is grey hair a style though? The interrupting individual sported a pair of black jeans and a band shirt for a group whose name looked vaguely familiar to Shinji. Porcupine Tree . . . I feel like Rei might listen to them. Maybe. Not to mention the fact that the newcomer had red eyes. Red eyes. Okay, so maybe this is a look he’s going for. I mean, those are definitely contacts, right? Unless there’s a genetic mutation I’ve never heard of, I don’t think humans can be born with red eyes. Which means that they’re contacts. Which means that the hair is almost definitely dyed too. I’m pretty sure that’s not what ‘scene’ looks like . . . there’d be brighter colors . . . and I don’t think it’s emo either . . . I’m pretty sure his hair would be black then . . . huh . . . maybe that’s goth. Yeah. Let’s go with that. In addition to making him second guess what scene fashion looked like, Shinji’s visual analysis of the interrupter also led him to a more definite conclusion. That regardless of what category his fashion fell under, he was pretty cute. Seriously Shinji, focus here, and stop thinking about how some random boy in Safeway who asked you what type of drugs you like is cute. Don’t be an idiot. Sure, you haven’t been on a date in months, ever since Martin broke up with you, but he was a manipulative jerk anyway— Shinji realized the interrupter had started talking again, which snapped him back into reality and out of his wandering mind.

“Yeah. What flavor is your favorite. I mean, out of the forty-two, there has to be one you’d pick, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. Probably cookies ’n’ cream,” Shinji answered, feeling more than a bit confused. On an afterthought, he added, “You’ve counted all the flavors too?”

“Not a bad choice,” the boy said with a firm nod. “Although, I’m more into mint chocolate chip myself. And yes, I’ve counted them all. It’s an important part to being an ice cream expert. Keeping track of the available flavors at the nearest store.”

“Okaayyy.” Shinji’s tone betrayed his uncertainty concerning just how he should deal with this stranger. “Ice cream expert?”

“Yep, that would be me,” the boy replied matter-of-factly, as though the question was a pointless one. He strolled over to Shinji and extended his hand. “Kaworu Akagi, ice cream expert, at your service.”

Shinji shook the offered hand, deciding he should be polite, despite the fact that his perplexity had not been substantially diminished in any way. This guy is . . . interesting, to say the least. As their hands met, Shinji was struck by the strange, but intense, sense that this wasn’t his first time meeting Kaworu.

“Shinji Ikari.” Against his better judgement, he decided to follow his introduction with, “Have we met before?”

Retracting his hand, Kaworu pursed his lips, ostensibly mulling over the question in his mind. After a few moments, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. At least, not that I can recall. I just got into town a few days ago. Why do you ask?”

Shinji shrugged, trying to play off his earlier question. “Oh, I think you just reminded me of someone I used to know.”

Kaworu nodded, seeming to accept this answer. “Ah, that makes sense. So, have you come to a conclusion, or would you like a second opinion?”

Shinji raised an eyebrow. “About the ice cream, you mean?”

“Indeed. That is the topic on the floor, as they say,” Kaworu responded nonchalantly.

Shinji blinked. “Who says?”

“Why, they do of course.”

“Oh. Umm, alright.” Shinji looked back through the window, surveying his options once more. A obvious choice didn’t present itself. “Well . . . I suppose a second opinion probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“Great,” Kaworu stated, his tone even and pleasant. “Any occasion in particular you’re buying for?”

Shinji shook his head. “Nope, not really. Just . . .” he hesitated, uncertain how much he wanted to tell someone who was still basically a stranger to him. “Just a bad day,” was what he ended up deciding on.

Kaworu pretended to stroke nonexistent hairs on his chin, nodding slowly as did so, in an amusing imitation of the stereotypical philosopher. “Hmm . . . ice cream for a bad day, you say?”

“Uh. Yeah. I guess so.”

“I’d have to recommend Cherry Chip for that. It’s a guaranteed mood improver from my experience. It is nearly impossible to feel down while you’re eating Cherry Chip ice cream.”

“Really?” Shinji’s ice wandered down the display, finally locating the flavor in question. Fortunately, they had it in pint size, which meant that the option was on the table. He couldn’t think of any reason not to go for it. As far as he knew, Rei liked Cherry Chip. At least, he thought she did. He wasn’t entirely sure that he’d ever seen her eat it. For that matter, he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d ever eaten it himself. Which means it might be pretty good, and I just don’t know it yet. You never know. “Really. Trust me, I’ve tested its potency. It won’t let you down.”

“Alright. Why not?” Shinji opened the door and grabbed a pint of Cherry Chip. He examined the container in his hands for a few seconds, before looking back up at Kaworu, who now seemed to be smiling in encouragement, which had the effect of making him look even cuter than before. Come on Shinji, don’t get distracted! Sure, he might be attractive, but he’s also a self-proclaimed ice cream expert. . . not sure whether that’s a good or a bad thing yet, to be honest.

“That’ll do the job,” Kaworu remarked, in a straightforward tone that made it sound as though he was utterly confident in the truth of his words.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Shinji furrowed his brow as another question popped into his mind. “Hey .. . you said you just got into town a few days ago. How is it that you already know all the different flavors they have here?”

“It was one of the first things I scoped out after we got into town. Always important to know what kind of ice cream game you’re going to be dealing with. Plus, I had plenty of free time once we finished unpacking, considering I won’t be in school up here until the fall.”

“Ah, okay. That makes sense.” Almost on a whim, Shinji was tempted to ask Kaworu where he had moved from, but decided that could come across as prying a little too much, since Kaworu hadn’t offered that information. As it was, Kaworu gave a partial answer to the question without Shinji even verbalizing it.

“School down south ends earlier. Though, to be fair, it also starts earlier there as well. We left a couple days after my semester ended. Which means I currently have relatively few obligations, other than locating and obtaining a job for the summer.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Shinji still wasn’t exactly sure how to respond, but he decided to field a question of his own. He figured it could come across as a polite inquiry, rather than being nosy, taking into account what Kaworu had just revealed. “So, what brought you up north?”

“My mother got transferred out to the base,” Kaworu returned offhandedly.

Shinji tilted his head in response to this answer, the gears in his brain turning. Well, that’s interesting. He almost wanted to make some sort of follow-up remark expressing their similarity in that regard, but he decided that might be a bit too much to say for the moment. Instead, he merely offered a casually, “I gotcha.” He continued with an amiable, “Well, welcome to Asherdale,” along with a more ironic, “It’s halfway decent, once you get used to it.”

Kaworu’s face broken into a grin at the humor, an expression that Shinji couldn’t help but feel made him look all the more attractive. Oops, getting distracted again. . . don’t do that . . . too much.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Kaworu said warmly.

“No problem.” The thought suddenly entering his mind, Shinji shot a momentary glance down at his phone. Hmm, what time is it? The answer was 7:37. 7:37?! I’ve been talking for eight minutes?! That felt like four or five at the most. I have to bail, now, if I’m going to make it home in time to get cooking.

He looked back up at Kaworu, who was still watching him, his gaze soft, the smile still on his face, his head tilted to the side. Shinji had the strange feeling that if it had been anyone else, the observational pose the boy had struck would have looked unusual, to say the least, but somehow, on Kaworu, it didn’t look half bad. It gives him a kind of elegant aesthetic . . . okay, where did I come up with that? I definitely need to head out.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry to leave so quick, but I need to get going.” Shinji cringed a little internally, hearing the awkward tone in his voice. You could have said that in a way that didn’t basically announced the fact that it made you flustered. Great going.

“Understandable. You wouldn’t want that ice cream to melt before you get the chance to test out its powers.”

“Haha, yeah, you know it.”

Kaworu nodded, imply that yes, he did indeed know it. “Why don’t I give you my number?” He remarked. “That way, you’ll have someone on hand for any future ice cream dilemmas.”

“Ahhh . . .” Okay, that was actually kind of smooth, in an odd way. And . . . it’s not like it could really hurt anything. I mean, he didn’t even ask for my number. Which means he’s not even necessarily flirting with me. It’d probably be a bit of stretch to say he is. After all, if I have his number, and he doesn’t have mine, that means I can choose whether I want to text him or not, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Which isn’t really a good way to flirt with somebody. I think I’m stalling again here . . .”

Shinji noticed Kaworu was watching him again, waiting for a response. “Sure. Sounds like a good plan.” He pulled out his phone and hastily created a new contact, before offering it to Kaworu. “Here, you can put it in.”

Kaworu nodded, his smile remaining intact, and typed in the digits, before handing it back to Shinji. “It was nice to meet you, Shinji Ikari,” he commented affably.

“You can just call me Shinji,” Shinji quickly responded.

“Alright then. It was nice to meet you Shinji.”

“You too . . .” Should I use first and last name like he did the first time? Or just go with first name. I don’t want to offend him, if that’s the sort of thing that’s important to him. After all, he does seem a bit, umm, particular.

“You can just call me Kaworu,” the boy suggested, his smile widening.

“It was nice to meet you Kaworu,” he finished lamely. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yes, maybe so.”

Shinji nodded again, spun on his heels, and promptly made for the registers. Well, that went excellently. You meet a boy who’s kind of cute, even if he is a little eccentric, and straight off the bat, you’re second guessing yourself and fumbling for words. Fantastic.

Shinji shot a brief glance back as he reached the end of the aisle, to see that Kaworu was now retrieving an ice cream carton of his own from the merchandise freezer. Shinji turned away again before the boy could look back in his direction. Don’t want him to think I’m staring at him or something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shinji collapsed back onto his bed with a satisfied sigh. He was glad to have finally reach it, after the nigh-interminable day. Well, maybe not quite interminable. But definitely overlong. Without much thought, he grabbed his phone from his nightstand and spun in about in his hands a couple times, feeling the sensation of the textured case against his skin.

Dinner had been a success, such as it could be, anyway. He had impressed himself with just how fast he managed to throw things together when he went into slight (well, maybe more than slight) panic mode.

The ice cream had been a success as well. He had to admit, Cherry Chip was a pretty good flavor. He still wasn’t sure whether he had tried it before or not, but he was glad he had definitively tried it now. Rei had also enjoyed it, which was an added plus. In fact, their mother had even had a bowl, something altogether unexpected. Apparently, Cherry Chip ice cream was one of the sweets she would indulge in. Didn’t see that coming. All in all, the majority of the pint was no more.

Powering on his phone, Shinji was faced with another choice for the evening. Unlike his earlier ice cream deliberation, however, this cerebration was of a cursory duration. After a few seconds, he had composed the text, and was hovering over the send button. Alright. Let’s do this. He tapped the icon.

Shinji I.: Thanks for the recommendation. It was a good choice! Lol. This is Shinji, btw.

The response to his message came swiftly. Wow, he must type fast.

Kaworu A.: Happy to be of service. I’m glad it worked out.

Shinji found a smile edging its way across his lips. Maybe, in spite of everything, today wasn’t such a bad day after all.