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glitterandmoondustofficial · 2 years ago

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Side To Side

Chapter 237: So, what now?

Characters: Ruby Rating: Teen Warnings: Language, non-graphic violence Notes: ;-; I am so sorry that this is as late as it is. I have been crazy busy and crazy stressed because of work. The updates should be more frequent now that most of my stressors aren't as bad as before. We'll see in near future because work will be going through some major changes. In any case, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and continue to love Ruby!

~~~~~~

Ruby woke up slowly.

She reached across the bed, fishing around for Law. Her brows furrowed and she opened her eyes. She sighed. That’s right. She wasn’t on the Tang. She was in Musnia, on her way to Dressrosa.

She groaned and laid on her back. She stared up at the ceiling, her mind going blank as it sunk in how lonely she was. She just stared at the ceiling, completely thoughtless, sinking into dissociation.

She took in a breath and smelled cooked sausage from below. She blinked, the smell of food snapping her out of her misery.

She sat up, the blankets falling off her bare chest and pooling into her lap. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She slapped her cheeks before getting out of bed. She walked to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Brushing her teeth, brushing her hair, washing her face, all things she needed to do everyday to keep herself sane.

After she had put on clothes and absolutely after she made sure everything was safe and locked away in her room, she walked downstairs to breakfast. Her ponytail swayed from side to side as she walked with purpose.

Her purpose being food, of course.

She sat down at the bar and ordered food. She looked around, watching the workers buzz around the room. They were preparing for the breakfast crowd and cleaning up the remnants of the fun from the previous night. Ruby smiled tiredly at them.

Her food arrived and she dug in. She made sure to get three sausage links based on the amazing smell from the kitchen. She ate a silent breakfast, not wanting to bother the workers nor wanting to actually talk to anyone knowing what she’s going to get into these upcoming days.

Ruby almost fell into her eggs when she thought about the mess she got into. How could she agree to such a thing? When had she become so soft that she was willingly helping people instead of ignoring the problem and keeping to herself?

She sighed and finished her meal. It was still morning and she didn’t meet up with Tas and Hanzi until around noon. She could either go back up to her room to read or she could walk around town. She couldn’t really shop, but she could find a park or maybe some crepes or something. She really didn’t want to be cooped up all day in her room like she was on the ship.

She paid for breakfast and made her way out of the inn, greeting the man with the pink mustache. She walked towards downtown. She passed by many shops that she would’ve loved to go into had she just been visiting the island with the Heart Pirates. Plenty of clothing shops that she would’ve brought Ikkaku to. Bakeries that she would drag Law to and make him buy her tiny cakes. She sighed. She wondered if she had arrived with the Heart Pirates if they would get involved with the island’s problems.

She wasn’t sure.

It didn’t actually matter. She was alone here and had made the decision to help. She now had to stick to her word and follow through. She wouldn’t abandon the people she agreed to help. She had to be a responsible adult.

Ugh.

Ruby found herself sitting at a table in a cafe, reading a newspaper. She was just wasting time while she drank some coffee and had a snack. She read current events, reading about which pirates were doing what. Something something Kidd Pirates. Something something Blackbeard. She wasn’t interested in them. She definitely wasn’t interested in whatever the marines were doing. This is why she let Law read the paper and not her. She should’ve brought a fantasy novel instead.

She finished her coffee before sighing. She heard a conversation behind her about how the price of food was increasing because of the bandits stealing all the food. Ruby had to admit that her coffee and chocolate croissant was more expensive than what she was used to. She should probably be careful on this island, she didn’t want to run out of money just buying food.

Ruby brought her cup and plate to the counter before leaving a tip and saying goodbye. She realized it was almost lunch time when more people started to come into the cafe. She needed to meet Tas and Hanzi at The Roostery. Although, she wasn’t sure if it would be ready for her to eat im after the attack yesterday.

Ruby walked towards the restaurant, listening to the conversations around her, like she used to when she was on her own. She heard many things. Increasing prices, more patrols, people missing, feeling unsafe at night, police negligence; these people were afraid.

She sighed. She understood why these people were afraid. If she had been a normal person with a normal life she’d probably really pity them.

But part of her, deep down in the pit of her stomach, was bitter. The island wasn’t a poor one, which she had noticed as she walked through the town prior. That part of her was struggling to feel bad for these people, who live so much better than she ever had.

It truly was bitterness, perhaps even jealousy. Maybe she wasn’t as mature as she thought and was holding onto past grudges that didn’t affect her anymore. That small part of her made it really hard to pity these seemingly rich people.

Luckily, the rational and mature side of her told her that she needed to help these innocent people. The good side of her, well as good as she could be, knew that bandits and pirates hurting people was bad and definitely should not happen.

“Well there she is!” She heard a happy laugh.

Ruby looked up from the ground and found herself staring at a grinning Hanzi and a neutral Tas. Ruby smiled awkwardly at them.

“Yep. I’m here,” she waved lamely. She looked at the restaurant, which was cleaned up but the windows were boarded up, making it look shabby. She sighed. “Are we eating here?”

“Unfortunately not,” Tas said. “They took some time off to recover from the attack. We’ll be eating somewhere else.”

“Ah. Okay.” Ruby shifted. “Uh, after you? I don’t really know this place.”

“Right,” Tas said with a nod. “Follow us.”

Ruby followed the two men without thinking about it. They held a quiet conversation while Ruby awkwardly trailed behind them. She noticed the not so subtle stares her group was getting. This was embarrassing. She did not like the suspicious looks she was being given.

Come to think of it, she just blindly followed two men she barely knew without thinking about it. Oh, come on, Ruby! You’re smarter than this! She could practically hear Law lecturing her from the Polar Tang. Well, at least she could defend herself if she needed to.

Ruby followed the two men to a seafood restaurant.

She calmed down when she saw the amount of people at the restaurant. They wouldn’t pull anything funny in front of all these people.

They led her into the restaurant and were seated immediately despite how busy it was. Ruby stared at the menu thoughtfully, trying not to be distracted by her anxious thoughts.

“Order whatever you want, darling,” Hanzi said. “It’s on us.”

Ruby blinked and looked up from her menu. “Oh? Thank you.” She would always accept free food, especially when that food is expensive. Hanzi grinned at her but said nothing. Tas was starting at her silently, very obviously looking her over. What an awkward man.

Ruby turned her attention back to her menu, as if she hadn’t decided what she already wanted. She knew what she wanted, and it wasn’t lobster or crab or caviar. It was simple fish and chips, it was hard to go wrong with one of her favorite meals. Clione seemed to make it special for her often but no one really complained.

The waiter came by and took their orders. Tas poured water into everyone’s cups from the pitcher the water left behind. Ruby nervously took a sip. There was no conversation happening, no one was saying a word. It was awkward and nerve wracking. Did these people want her help or not?

Tas finally sighed. He placed a file onto the table that had come from a bag he had been carrying. “This is the file from yesterday,” he started. Ruby leaned forward and looked at the file. “What we know is-”

Tas was interrupted by an outburst from another table. Ruby looked at the table curiously.

“Looks like that person is choking,” Ruby said.

“Yes, that’s what I’m seeing, too,” Hanzi said.

Ruby sighed. Well, Law did teach her how to help in these situations. She should probably get up and go save that person. She moved to stand up but Tas practically flew over the table to help. Ruby shook her head in shock. “Whoa,” she mumbled to herself.

Hanzi laughed. “That’s just how he is. Always the first in line to help.” Ruby looked over to Hanzi and nodded. “And now, while the entire restaurant is distracted…” his grin tightened. He placed a folded up piece of paper on the table. Ruby raised her brow and took it. She unfolded it and her curious face turned neutral. She was staring at her old wanted poster. “Sela D. Ruby,” Hanzi continued. “What brings you to our little island?” Ruby didn’t answer. “It certainly isn’t because you lost your husband, seeing you never had one.”

Ruby looked up from the poster. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Duhni would have ratted me out if I was.”

Hanzi stared at her, he scratched his chin. “Then why are you here?”

“I’m…on a mission for my captain, that’s all I can really say. It’s not to hurt anyone or ruin any lives. If I did I would have to go back to being hunted by the Navy, or worse, my captain would. Your island won’t be harmed by me.”

Hanzi stared at her thoughtfully before grinning. “Good enough for me. You’re helping us out so you can’t be that bad.” Ruby sighed. “But we’ll keep this between us. Tas isn’t as open minded as I am.”

“Which is why you confronted me without him here. Makes sense.” She handed the wanted poster back to him. “Where did you even get that? It’s been over a year since I’ve had a wanted poster.”

“We keep a stack of wanted posters at the office, this one was never tossed since you’re not dead.”

“Ah.”

Ruby and Hanzi looked over as they saw Tas being thanked and hugged. He blushed and waved him off, no doubt saying that thanks wasn’t needed. He walked back over to the table and sighed.

Hanzi laughed. “Always playing the hero, Tas.”

“Isn’t that our job?” He sat down again. He looked between them. “Everything alright? Did I miss something?”

“You’re just flustered, my boy! We were just having a pleasant conversation while you were off saving a life!”

“Uh…” He coughed when Hanzi smacked his back hard.

Ruby found herself smiling at the two of them. She looked over when the waiter came over with their food.

“Sorry for the wait, I’m sure you can understand why.” He placed the food in front of them. “Oh, and the owner wanted to let you know that your meals are on us. Thank you for saving that person’s life.”

“It’s our duty.” Tas said. “But thank you.”

The waiter walked off and Ruby started to eat. It was good food. The batter was crispy while the fish was juicy. The fries were perfectly seasoned and had a great aioli dipping sauce. It reminded her of eating with her nakama. Of the times she and Penguin sat in a tavern and ate together and when Clione would make her this dish when she was feeling a little down.

She swallowed and stared at the food. She missed her nakama.

“Elissa,” Tas called. “Have you heard anything I’ve said?” He asked with an annoyed tone in his voice.

Ruby cleared her throat. “No.”

Tas scoffed and Hanzi laughed. “Han, don’t laugh at that!”

“Oh, why not? It’s funny!”

Ruby found herself smiling again. These two were quite the comedic duo. “Sorry,” Ruby said. “I got lost in thought thinking about…my family.” They looked at her sadly. “Oh, don’t get all gross on me. What were you talking about, Tas?”

“Oh, right, I was trying to give you the information that we know.”

“Which is?”

“Jack shit, really,” Hanzi said with a sigh. Tas groaned.

“Do they even have an attack pattern? Like are there specific times of day that they are more likely to attack?”

“They attack when farmers travel with their produce, no matter how many people they have protecting the caravan the bandits always manage to get away with most of the food. They attack the diamond mines when no one is working, stealing the diamonds before they make it into town for refinement. They attack jewelers around closing time, when there are less people around and when everyone is tired at the end of the day.”

Ruby thought silently for a moment. She sighed. “What about, like, when they attacked that restaurant? Was that out of the ordinary?”

“No,” Tas sighed. “They also come into town and demand service. If someone fights back, as they always stupidly do, they destroy things and hurt people. Yesterday when The Roostery was attacked two people were sent to the hospital for wounds.”

“People want to fight these assholes,” Hanzi added. “But they’re just normal people. Normal people don’t have weapons or fighting training. They just punch and hope for the best. The best never happens. These bandits may not be much to someone who has a devil fruit like you, darling, but to some random person on a random island, they’re the worst foe imaginable.”

Ruby leaned back and crossed her arms. “I see,” she sighed. “So patrols don’t help and guards don’t fight them off well enough. They attack somewhat on a schedule when it comes to food and mineral production but they also just come into town whenever they feel like, causing a scene. No doubt they are actively recruiting, as well, making their numbers grow while also causing unrest due to scarcity of food.” Ruby sighed. “What about a hideout or a base? Do you have any idea where that might be?”

“It’s definitely in the Old Forest,” said Tas. “We’ve managed to follow them far enough to know they are there, but every time we’ve tried to send a scout, they never come back.”

“And I bet since no one comes back, no one wants to volunteer anymore.”

“Yes.”

“It’s hard to motivate a team that’s always too late, always losing the fight, and always getting hurt or worse. It’s like the Nine Lives know everything about us,” Hanzi sighed.

Ruby hummed. She watched as the waiter took her empty plate away. “Would you like dessert?” He asked her with a smile.

Ruby smiled back. “The lime pie, thanks.”

“And for you?” He looked at Hanzi and Tas.

Tas shook his head. Hanzi laughed. “I’m good, kid, just get our beautiful lady her pie.”

“Right away.”

The waiter walked off and Ruby turned her attention back to the file on the table. She lifted the edge of a paper before setting it down. She sipped her water from her straw.

“So, what we need to do is wait for a farmer to travel with their goods and take one of the bandits and then question them. Easy enough.”

“Didn’t I tell you they always escape before we could question them?” Tas asked, annoyed.

“Oh, I didn’t mean you would take them in and question them. I mean I’m going to do it and I’m going to do it my way.” She grinned when her pie was placed in front of her. “Oooh, raspberry sauce.”

“That’s…not the proper way to do things,” Tas complained.

“And look where the “proper way to do things” has gotten you all. Nowhere. People are still getting hurt and starving because of…” she bit her tongue before she said “negligence,” “...going too easy on these fuckers.”

Tas looked like he was ready to argue but Hanzi put his hand on his shoulder. Tas looked at him and sighed. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. I think you have already figured out that we know when these shipments come in.”

“Of course, if the bandits know then, in theory, so should you,” Ruby said after she finished her pie. She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “That was good.”

“Right. That would be tonight. Farmer Brown is coming in tonight with his product. He’s asked for as many guards as we could spare.”

“Brown probably hired some goons as well, knowing how paranoid he is. He does have precious cargo, so I can’t blame him too much,” Hanzi added.

“What’s the product?”

“He’s a cattle farmer. He inherited the only cattle farm on the island and no one else has managed to bring in cattle from somewhere else. So…” Hanzi shrugged.

“So beef is very expensive here.” Ruby couldn’t imagine what a steak would cost.

“Yes. The common people don’t eat beef, it’s mostly the…more fortunate people who do. We poor folk eat venison from the forest and fish from the sea.”

Ruby nodded. “Got it.” She sighed. “Well, then we have our first task. I’ll guard the so-called precious cargo and capture one of these guys. We’ll question them and then get some info. Easy peasy.”

Hanzi laughed but Tas stared at her in doubt. “You make it sound too easy. Why do you think you can get more accomplished than we have?”

“I mean, don’t you feel that way, too? Isn’t that why you asked me for help?”

Hanzi laughed again. “She’s got a point, Tas!” Tas huffed.

“Besides,” Ruby continued. “I’m not bound by an ethics or honor code. I can do whatever I want to these people and not feel like I’m doing something morally wrong.”

Hanzi grinned at her knowingly. Tas gave her a serious look. “You’re not going to kill or torture these people. We won’t stoop to their level.”

Ruby grinned at him. “Whatever you say.”

Tas looked like he was ready to argue with her but the waiter came by again. “Was there anything else I can do for you all today?”

“Nope!” Ruby said. “You were great.” She reached into her purse and pulled out 40 berries. “Here’s a tip, dear.”

“Oh! Thank you!” He nodded rapidly. He placed some mints on the table before walking away with a flustered look on his face.

Ruby turned back to Hanzi and Tas. She leaned in and rested her chin in her hand with a grin on her face. “Now, where will we meet up tonight?”

~~~~~

After the meeting place and time had been decided, Ruby went back to the inn to take a quick nap. She greeted the innkeeper with a smile and then walked up to her room. After she checked if all her belongings were still where they were supposed to be, she fell back onto the bed.

She let out a breath and closed her eyes. After her meal she was full and tired. And since she would probably be up late into the night she needed rest. She breathed deeply for a moment, trying to fall asleep, but was unsuccessful.

She groaned and turned on her side. She thought it would be difficult, even after eating such a full meal. The bed, while comfortable, just wasn’t as good as her and Law’s bed. The pillows weren’t the right feeling and the blankets weren’t as cozy.

Oh, and Law wasn’t there. That probably didn’t help.

She sighed roughly before sitting up. She got out of bed and walked to the shopping bag she left on the dresser that held one of her new books. She grabbed one and got back into bed, lounging against the headboard.

She started to read it, not paying attention to the passing of time. It wasn’t until she noticed the sun starting to set did she realize that if she didn’t leave right now she would be late!

She placed her bookmark on the page and ran out of the room. She smoothed out her clothes and fixed her hair as she rushed downstairs.

“Miss Elissa! Are you okay?” The pink mustached innkeeper asked.

“Oh, yes! I’m just meeting someone for…drinks, and I don’t want to be late.” She hoped she smiled reassuringly.

“Oh! Wonderful! I’m glad you have met some friends. Just try not to be too loud when you come back tonight, so you don’t disturb the other guests.”

“Yes, of course. You won’t even notice me.”

Ruby bid him goodbye and rushed out of the inn. She jogged to the station, her pony tail blowing behind her. She reached the station with Tas starting at his watch. He looked up at her and frowned as she approached.

“You’re late.”

“She’s not late, Tas! She’s right on time!” Hanzi laughed.

“If you’re not early…” he started to grumble.

“Well, I’m here, let’s just head over there.”

“...right,” Tas nodded. “We’ll need horses.”

“Horses? Can’t we just walk?” She asked as she followed Tas to a stable behind the police station.

“No? How else are we supposed to get there quickly? Horses are useful animals. Haven’t you ever traveled by one?”

“No.” She suddenly really wanted to be on her submarine. “I’ve never ridden one before.”

“Not to worry, darling, you can ride with me. I’m great around horses! A regular equestrian!”

Tas rolled his eyes but said nothing. The two men readied their horses while Ruby stood awkwardly aside, avoiding being bitten or kicked or whatever it was that horses did. After the horses were ready and Ruby was “safely” on the horse behind Hanzi, they rode off.

They went too fast for her and she closed her eyes in fear. She hated this. She really, really wanted to be back on the ocean in her submarine.

They slowed to a stop and Ruby blinked open her eyes. Hanzi laughed.

“Well, darling, I didn’t think it would be that scary, but you’re holding onto me so tightly I swear you’re cutting off my circulation!” He laughed joyously.

Ruby huffed and jumped off the horse. She smoothed out her hair and adjusted her top. She looked around and saw that it was almost dark and that they were standing in front of an old man and his horse drawn wagons. Ruby sighed. She did not like horses one bit.

“You’re late,” the old man said. “You’re leaving me vulnerable here!”

“Sorry, Brown, there was a small hiccup, but we’re here now,” Hanzi said. “Miss Elissa will be helping us out tonight.”

“A new recruit?”

“Eh, something like that.”

“And where’s the rest of you?”

“It’s just us tonight, Mr. Brown,” Tas said from atop his horse. “Don’t worry, we’ll be enough.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that! That’s why I’ve brought my own people, too. You guys can barely do your jobs as it is, let alone protect my precious meats.” He huffed and turned around. “Let’s go!”

Ruby noticed a small group of people, with makeshift weapons, hanging at the back of the wagons. Oh, this was going to go poorly. Not only did Ruby have to protect the cargo, Farmer Brown, and Tas and Hanzi, but now she had to protect a group of arrogant country folk who think that just because they don’t live in the city they’re somehow more equipped to deal with very dangerous bandits.

This sucked.

“Darling, are you getting back on the horse?” Hanzi asked.

“No. I’ll lose whatever I have in my stomach if I have to do that again.”

He laughed. “Whatever you say.”

The covered wagons started to move and Ruby sat on the back of one of them. She watched everyone carefully. She made sure to pay attention to everything she felt, smelled, and saw. She noticed one of the farmer’s giving her a dirty look and raised her brow.

“What?” She snapped.

“What do you know about fighting?”

Ruby’s annoyed gaze turned into a scary grin. “Oh, I don’t think someone like you could handle everything I know.”

The farmer went red in the face and was ready to start a fight.

“Redd! Don’t be startin’ fights with the help!” Brown yelled from the front of the wagon. “Even if she probably won’t be useful,” he said with a quiet bitterness.

Ruby rolled her eyes but said nothing, she had better things to do than pay attention to these country boys and their dumbassery.

The road was bumpy but relatively quiet, aside from horse hooves and snuffles. She could hear Tas and Hanzi having a faint conversation, but didn’t care enough to pay attention to it. She just wanted to take a shower. She felt gross after riding on that damn horse. She sighed, she really got herself into some stupid trouble.

“Darling,” Hanzi caught her attention. She looked up and saw him and Tas staring at her. “You look so blue.”

“Oh,” Ruby frowned. “I just…miss my husband is all.”

Hanzi raised his brow and Tas nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss,” Tas said. “I know it can’t be easy to lose someone like that.”

“Yeah,” she sighed and looked at her hands. “Losing someone is never easy.” She brought her hand up to the ring around her neck and twiddled with it nervously.

“But you’re strong, Elissa,” Tas said confidently. Ruby blinked and looked back up at him. “Losing people is hard, but people like you will always make it through.”

People like me? Ruby questioned silently. He really is quite confident in himself. Ruby smiled up at him genuinely. “Thank you, Tas.”

Ruby couldn’t really tell, due to the dark sky and the dim lantern lights, but it looked like Tas blushed.

Hanzi grinned slyly at Tas. “Kids,” he chuckled quietly.

“So is this how it usually is? It’s pretty quiet,” Ruby remarked after about thirty minutes. “Or do they attack at a certain spot?”

“It’s mostly random,” Tas said. “I’m sure they know where we are and are just waiting for the right opportunity to attack.”

“Well, they’ll have trouble this time,” Redd said and rubbed his gun. “Brown is wasting his time hiring you folk to help us. We can handle it on our own.”

“Like you have before?” Ruby asked dryly. She heard Tas groan in response.

Redd balked at her for a moment before his face scrunched up in anger. “You think that just because you’re some damn uppity recruit that us people who live off this land can’t handle ourselves? You need to shut your mouth, lady. Don’t get in our way or you might get hurt.”

Ruby rolled her eyes at him, infuriating him more. “Listen, I don’t care about you or your land or your shitty gun that you rubbed the serial number off of. I told Tas and Hanzi I would help take care of these bandits and I’m going to. You can go shove your cocky attitude up your ass and shut up so I can actually have a conversation with someone who doesn’t talk down to someone they feel is inferior to them for no real reason.” She turned back to Tas and Hanzi.

Tas sighed. “You shouldn’t pick fights with these guys, they only want to protect each other.”

“They shouldn’t be assholes then. I don’t take shit from anyone, especially from people I’m supposed to be helping.”

Hanzi chuckled. “Well, you’ve pissed him off so much he’s silently steaming, so we’ll leave it at that.”

Ruby grinned, satisfied with that. The ride continued down the bumpy road. Ruby made light conversation with Hanzi and Tas, asking them about their lives and evading questions Tas had about hers. Hanzi was smart enough not to ask her any questions, he was holding up his word by not going into her past.

Ruby yawned suddenly. The night was dragging on and she was starting to become tired. She wished she was back at the inn, sleeping off a nice dinner. She cursed herself for not being able to fall asleep earlier, now she was going to be exhausted by the time she got back to her room.

“Missing your beauty sleep?” Hanzi teased.

Ruby sighed. “Yes. It’s a cream mask night as well.” She rubbed her cheeks. “I gotta keep my face nice and soft so that…” she trailed off quietly, thinking about Law caressing her face with that look he got in his eyes telling her that she could be enough. She sighed sadly, “…to keep me looking young.”

“Darling, you don’t look older than 25.”

“I’m 26 actually.”

He laughed. “Oh, forgive me, I didn’t realize you were ancient.”

Ruby giggled. She had a soft smile on her face, that fought back her depressing thoughts for the moment. She yawned again. “Should’ve drank some coffee before this,” she mumbled to herself.

The group dissolved into silence with Ruby doing everything she could to focus on staying awake. She’d end up looking like a fool if she fell asleep in front of all these people who were supposed to think she was strong and capable of taking on these stupid bandits.

She breathed out. She stared at her nails that were starting to look like she didn’t care about them. They weren’t painted and were different lengths. It had been some time since they looked like this.

She blinked. The hairs on her arms stood up before she pushed down Redd. “Get down!”

“What the fuck are you doing?! You stupid-”

He was interrupted by an arrow being shot into the wagon where he was previously sitting. Ruby jumped off the wagon. The horses were becoming spooked and she definitely didn’t like how they were acting.

Ruby reached forward and made a fist. Someone cried out and fell toward, completely wrapped around in thorny vines. Tas jumped off of his horse and looked at the person.

“It’s a Nine Lives bandit. They’re here!” Tas unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards the direction the bandit had come from. Hanzi did the same. The group of farmers also prepared their weapons, probably thinking they could actually do something.

Ruby sighed, too many liabilities.

It wasn’t long before a group of well armed bandits attacked them. Tas and Hanzi held their own but the farmers struggled. Ruby spent most of her time fighting off the bandits attacking them instead of focusing on picking one to interrogate.

Soon, Ruby grew frustrated. The horses were freaking out, the farmers were in the way, Tas and Hanzi could only do so much, and she was fucking tired.

“Enough, fuckers!” She stomped her foot and vines grew from the ground. They wrapped around each bandit, making them drop their weapons in shock. They pulled at the vines, tearing them off, but more grew in their place. “I want to go to bed!” She closed her hand into a fist and the bandits yelped in pain. She squeezed them until they passed out, leaving seven bandits lying on the ground unconscious.

She stared into the distance where the trees were, knowing the one with the arrows was in there. She felt their presence fade away, meaning they were running back to wherever their base was. She sighed.

“Dammit!” She exclaimed. “One got away. They might be coming back with more!” Everyone just stared at her in stunned silence. She looked around at them, even Hanzi and Tas looking at her with some shock on their faces. “What?!” She was very tired and therefore very irritated.

“That’s not normal!” One of the farmers exclaimed. “She made those plants just pop out of the ground! She’s a freak!”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “It’s called devil fruit powers. You’re on the Grand Line. You should know that.”

“Elissa,” Tas said gently. “These are simple farmers who have lived on the same farms for generations. They don’t come into town unless they need to. They don’t really know much about the outside world, let alone about the devil fruits.”

Ruby huffed. “Fine. But “freak” was uncalled for. Especially when I just saved everyone’s asses,” she grumbled.

Hanzi walked up to them with their horses in tow. “Got the horses. Poor things were scared shitless.” He grinned at Ruby. “Darling, you really are one of a kind, you should stay on this island forever.”

“No thanks,” Ruby said and walked over to the bodies. “We should load these guys onto the wagons and take them back to town and get them into cells.” She walked over to the first bandit she caught, who was still conscious and very much struggling. She tipped his face up with her shoe. “I believe this is the one I get to question.” She smiled sweetly down at them.

The bandit swallowed. “W-what are you going to do?!”

Ruby crouched down and lifted up the bandit’s face by his hair. “Oh, nothing much! I’m just going to ask some questions. You’re going to answer them the first time honestly. Got it?”

The bandit looked behind her to Hanzi and Tas. Hanzi was dutifully loading up the unconscious bandits onto the wagons —ignoring the whining from the farmers— and Tas was walking up to Ruby

“What are you going to do to them?” He asked. “I don’t suppose you have some magical plant that makes people tell the truth.”

“Not unless you consider my fists plants.”

“Elissa,” he hissed. “You can’t-”

“It was a joke, chill.” She sighed and stood up. She yawned unapologetically.

“Maybe this should be continued tomorrow?” Tas suggested with a smile. “I don’t think we’ll get much done at this point anyway.”

“You’re probably right,” Ruby sighed. “Let’s just head back into town. I’ll meet up with you guys in the morning after breakfast.”

“When is breakfast?”

“After I wake up.”

Tas chuckled. “Fair enough.”

They turned and saw Hanzi loading the last bandit onto the wagon. He slapped his hands together before resting his fists on his hips. “You two ready to go?”

Ruby smiled. “Yes.”

The trek into town felt like forever because Ruby was trying her best to stay awake. She needed to keep an eye on these bandits. Probably the farmers, too, because they were definitely giving her nasty looks.

Soon enough, the wagon had parked in front of the station. Hanzi and Tas started to unload the bandits. Ruby jumped off the wagon and yawned.

“I’m headed to the inn,” she yawned again with a small wave. “See you both in the morning.”

“Do you need someone to escort you back?” Tas asked, causing Hanzi to chortle.

“Tas! Did you see what she can do?! We should be asking her to escort us home!”

“Han,” he groaned. He turned his attention back to Ruby. “Sleep well, Elissa, we’ll be waiting for you.”

Ruby gave half a smile before mumbling her goodbye. She walked back to the inn, noting that there wasn’t much nightlife in this town. Although, that may have been because of the bandits. Ruby was honestly too tired to think about it.

She made it to the inn, where it was completely silent. She started to walk up the stairs before panic sent a shock through her body. She didn’t lock up her items before she rushed off!

She quickly rushed up the stairs and to her room, frantically opening the door. The nausea in her stomach calmed down and the tears disappeared when she saw that nothing had been taken, moved, or touched. She sighed in relief before wiping a tear that managed to escape.

She really was terribly exhausted.

She stripped naked and took a quick shower to rinse off. After she dried herself she collapsed onto the bed, immediately falling asleep and not waking up until morning light.

#one piece #op fanfic #law x oc #lawxoc #one piece fanfiction #side to side #not tagging law but he was mentioned #sela ruby #ruby sela #sorry this took so long ;-;#i am but a worm

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chimaeraonwards · 1 year ago

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okay I want to preface this by saying that I'm not an expert on North Korea or any sort of international relations, I'm just someone from the global south who has read a lot of news growing up and has a lot of opinions.

There are so many things I want to expand on from the posts before this one but I'll just stick to the hamburger thing.

I want to start with a common talking point that I see being brought up by many news outlets is how North Koreans call it "double bread with meat". Maybe I'm reading too much into this but many news outlets make it sound like they're alienating and dehumanizing North Koreans.

I can't find a legitimate consensus on the reasons why it's called "double bread with meat" - some reasons include English was banned in North Korea at the time and that there was no word equivalent word for hamburger so they had to make one up.

It drives me crazy to think about how the West uses the whole "double bread with meat" thing to ridicule North Koreans when to me that's just how language and etymology work??? Many would use a close description to make a new word when the word doesn't exist in a certain language. By the way, they're allowed to use the word hamburger now.

and North Koreans aren't the only people who change the names of foods to make them more palatable to the populace. Many countries around the world do the same thing. Here is a restaurant in Washington that rebranded the names of Indian food where thosai/dosa was renamed to crepes.

Does it make it any less funny to natives of the culture the food was from? Absolutely not - I remember laughing at the absurdity of calling thosai/dosas crepes. But can you laugh at/criticise this and not dehumanise the people who remarketed the food? Yeah, they're still people at the end of the day.

If you want to understand this phenomenon better, I would highly recommend reading this article about the Nacirema tribe.

I also want to add to @4dmc's post that Patrick Soh (apparently) has said that he does not currently receive any money from the restaurants. I wasn't able to find the primary source of his saying it but it's something to keep in mind with everything else I'm going to share.

So why does someone start a business in/business ties with a country like North Korea when they might not even be making money from it?

Here's where I think the difference between soft power and hard power lies.

hard power is using actions like sanctions and militaristic action as means of persuasion. soft power is the ability to persuade without coercion. you can gain soft power through things like music, pop culture, charities, etc.

more often than not, the West has always had the idea that to help oppressed people - violence or cultural destruction needs to be enacted. some examples are "free Palestine from Hamas" by carpet bombing them, "stop the spread of communism in Southeast Asia" by sending troops to Vietnam, and "help aboriginals in Canada" by sending them to residential schools.

but let's look at how these organisations from 2 different countries have helped the North Korean people. I picked these 2 simply because I'm more familiar with these initiatives.

There is a social enterprise from Singapore called Choson Exchange that aims to train North Koreans in things like business and economic policy so that they can succeed on their own. their workshops have helped North Koreans start their own businesses including their starting own cafe.

A private Malaysian university gave Kim Jong Un an honorary doctorate in Economics. Sounds crazy but, it's true. But let's look at the big picture here. The North Korean Embassy was located near the university campus at the time. There were even North Korean students in that university, giving them access to higher education as international students (it was mostly children of diplomats). (of course, all of this fell apart after the assassination of Kim Jong-nam, Kim Jong-un's estranged brother, at a Malaysian airport but that's a whole other thing)

Does this mean that North Korea is a utopia, free from criticism? Of course not.

But it comes back to my point here about soft and hard power. Who is more likely to influence policy changes in the North Korean government.

It makes me think about who do I think has made positive changes to the average North Korean's citizen quality of life? Is the the countries who wielded soft power or those who used hard power? Personally, i think if you really cared about the oppressed people in North Korea (or any oppressed group really), you need to ask yourself, how are you talking about them? How are you helping them?

Most people are not their governments (or whoever is in charge). They are regular people who want to own businesses, start families, study abroad, and so much more. If the whole world treated and punished all citizens as if they were representatives of their government, then I bet all US citizens would be the most sanctioned in the world.

The alienation and dehumanization of oppressed people is a reflection of you, not the oppressed people. Look at the daily lives of people before judging them based on the actions of their leaders.

The last thing I want everyone to think about is this quote from Patrick Soh, the actual guy who brought hamburgers to North Korea:

"I think what they really need are friends."

i saw the trailer for the new feel-good “anti-racist” US war movie about the carpet bombing of North Korea and started writing up something for this blog, partially inspired by the absolute shit storm i got for sharing that post i made with pictures of everyday life outside pyongyang

and then i gave up, because what’s the point? westerners can’t even handle a single picture of a north korean not looking miserable without screaming propaganda

meanwhile, there are no stories about the horrors of life in the ‘hermit kingdom’ that are deemed too outlandish to be believable. i can’t remember who said it, but it’s like the entire country has taken up permanent residence in the western imaginary as some silly little cartoon villain, where the leaders of the country does evil things for no discernible reason. they’re just silly and evil like that, and the citizens, of course, are silly, too. silly and brainwashed.

i watched a video recently of a tourists visiting an auto dealership in pyongyang, and the entire time he was just gawking at the employees and costumers, shoving his phone in their face, and confidently explaining to his youtube audience that everyone he’s interacting with are actually actors.

what level of dehumanization do you have to reach for that thought to even cross your mind? to think that the people you see before you are actors? that entire cities and shops are erected with to sole purpose that you, a western, will see them and be impressed?

what frustrates me the most is the casual cruelty that seeps into any mention of north korea, no matter how small. if north koreans are not being evil, they’re being silly.

a north korean newspaper reports that a group of archeologists in pyongyang have discovered an old rock carving with the words ‘unicorn lair’ (mistranslated), and the western press reports that north koreans now believe in unicorns.

a tourist at a hotel in hamhung is told by the receptionist to be careful at the beach: the waves can get high. that day the tourists goes to the beach, and there are no waves. she retells the story to her instagram followers, explaining that the poor woman at the hotel could never have seen real waves before because north koreans are probably never allowed to travel.

she adds a little teary-eyed emoji.

one of the cities i included in the post was sariwon, a densely populated city to the south of pyongyang. below are some pictures from its “folk customs street”, which was built to showcase old korean traditions and customs

here’s all wikipedia has to say about it

Built to display an ideal picture of ancient Korea, it includes buildings in the “historical style” and a collection of ancient Korean cannons. Although it is considered an inaccurate romanticized recreation of an ancient Korean street, it is frequently used as a destination for foreigners on official government tours. Many older style Korean buildings exist in the city.

it’s just north koreans being silly again. there’s no mention of what might motivate them to build a street like that — why the preservation of old customs, culture and architecture might somehow be important for the city

could it perhaps have something to do with how the U.S. air force dropped 635,000 tons of bombs, including 32,557 tons of napalm, over the korean peninsula during the war? the carpet bombings, which are now the topic of an upcoming hollywood movie about overcoming racism through warcrimes, destroyed an estimate of 85% of all buildings in north korea. some cities were entirely wiped off the map.

in sariwon they missed a few buildings, but not many — after an intense firebombing campaign the U.S. military estimated the destruction of sariwon to be at 95%.

none of this is mentioned on the wikipedia page for sariwon.

we destroyed entire cities. memory-holed the entire thing, called it the forgotten war. and now, 70 years later, we’re convincing ourselves that the people living in the ruins are actors.

and somehow the north koreans are the brainwashed ones

#im going to stop here before i go on a tangent on how people can decolonize their mindsets and start humanizing other people #but this post is getting very long #please let me know if any of the links dont work!#politics #propaganda #free palestine #north korea #palestine #etymology #whitewashing

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mariacallous · 5 months ago

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Brooklyn-based Jewish chef Jeremy Salamon cites three major influences in his life and in the kitchen: his mother, Robin; his maternal grandmother, Arlene; and his paternal grandmother, Agi.

While all three women were excellent chefs, only one is the namesake of his Hungarian-Jewish Crown Heights restaurant, Agi’s Counter.

Arlene was the grandma who showed Salamon how to truss and roast a chicken; mom Robin loved to gather loved ones and host elaborate Rosh Hashanah and Thanksgiving dinners. But it was Grandma Agi — a Hungarian Holocaust survivor who never spoke much about her past — who shared her love and her heritage through comfort foods like palacsinta, crepe-like pancakes that she stuffed with sugar and nuts.

Growing up, Salamon said that whenever he approached Agi to talk about the family or her past, “Her answer would be, ‘I’ll get the babka and coffee,’” Salamon recalled. “We’d eat our feelings.”

Salamon held onto these memories of Agi’s comfort food as he entered the stressful culinary industry and honored her memory when he opened Agi’s Counter in late 2021.

And while he always viewed her Hungarian Jewish cooking as a source of comfort — and inspiration — the chef admits that he worried how his concept would be received.

“Most people, when they hear Hungarian, if they have any idea the first thing that comes to mind is probably paprika or goulash — maybe chicken paprikás,” he told the New York Jewish Week. “The concept is so limited.”

As it turns out, his concerns were unwarranted. During its less than three years in existence, Agi’s Counter has emerged as an essential Brooklyn dining destination. In 2023, the restaurant garnered a Michelin “Bib Gourmand” award, as well as a spot on Bon Appetit’s Best Restaurants of 2022 list, where, they said, you’ll “feel like you’re being cared for by your very culinarily talented Jewish grandmother.”

Last summer, the New York Jewish Week also put Agi’s schmaltz potatoes, which are prepared confit-style in chicken fat, on our 25 Jewish Dishes to Eat in NYC list, and most recently, Salamon was a finalist for the James Beard Award for Best Chef in New York State (which ultimately went to Charlie Mitchell of Brooklyn Heights’ Clover Room).

“It’s wild, pretty crazy,” Salamon, 30, said of the accolades, talking with the New York Jewish Week on a rainy Monday afternoon between lunch and dinner service. “It is a complete shock in a really great way. Any attention really helps the restaurant and drives business and so we were thrilled to learn that.”

The success of Agi’s Counter is particularly notable given that New York has historically had very little appetite for Hungarian food, said András Koerner, a historian of Hungarian Jewish food and the author of “Jewish Cuisine in Hungary: A Cultural History.” Koerner, who has lived in New York since the late 1960s, noted the city’s most famous restaurant serving Hungarian dishes, Cafe des Artistes, owned by Holocaust survivor George Lang, closed in 2009.

It is a “function of economics,” Koerner said. In the past, people were not willing to pay high prices to eat ethnic food that wasn’t Italian or French, he said.

“I feel like the dining scene in New York has drastically changed in the last eight or nine years,” Salamon said. “Obviously COVID reshaped everything. But there’s a different approach to dining these days, more of an open mentality — if I was doing this eight or nine years ago, it wouldn’t have resonated as much.”

Salamon grew up in Boca Raton, Florida, where he celebrated Jewish holidays like Rosh Hashanah and Hanukkah by gathering around the dining table with his family. “Food was always at the center of everything,” he said. “Growing up, I was lucky to have very big celebrations and holidays — eating and food and celebrating a holiday just felt like a really big deal.”

Salamon, who wanted to be a chef from the time he was 9, came to New York at age 18 to attend the Culinary Institute of America. A few years after graduating, Salamon became the head chef at The Eddy in the East Village and its sister restaurant Wallflower.Around this time Salamon picked up a copy of George Lang’s “The Cuisine of Hungary,” and connected with the recipes, remembering some from his childhood.

While working at The Eddy, Salamon said that he’d occasionally slip a Hungarian recipe onto the menu. Reactions were mixed, he said, but he believed in his vision — namely, to create a restaurant that was simultaneously homáge to his heritage and a way to provide his own take on Hungarian classics, reimagined for a 21st-century Brooklyn-based palate. In 2020 and 2021, he raised $65,000 to open Agi’s Counter through a grassroots Kickstarter campaign.

On the menu at Agi’s — a charming all-day cafe with a coffee-slash-wine bar and bakery case — there are plenty of dishes with paprika, as well as nokedli (a type of dumpling), borscht and an extensive list of Hungarian wines. But there are also offerings that Salamon has reinterpreted, like his pogacsa, a cheese biscuit that he serves with an egg and bacon, and his rotating versions of palacsinta, the crepe-like pancake, which he is currently serving with strawberry jam and caramelized chamomile honey.

Salamon readily admits that his food is not necessarily traditional. “Since we opened, there have definitely been many people that have come in here expecting it to be something from their fantasy, or thinking they’re going relive their childhood here, and they don’t — it’s not the experience they had hoped for,” Salamon said. “We’ve also had younger folks who are more open to it and say, ‘I get that it’s not authentic, it’s not traditional, but, at the core, I see what’s happening here.’”

Both responses, Salamon said, mean a lot to him — it shows that people in New York care about Hungarian food, and want to at least try his restaurant.

“People have different ideas of what constitutes Hungarian food and what constitutes Jewish food, but [Agi’s Counter] is certainly not, in a scholarly sense, traditional Hungarian food or traditional Jewish food,” said Koerner, who had not been to Agi’s but was familiar with the menu. “I don’t mean it as a criticism. It sounds very good and looks very appealing.”

Many of the dishes available at Agi’s Counter will be spotlighted in Salamon’s forthcoming cookbook, “Second Generation: Hungarian Jewish Classics Reimagined for the Modern Table,” which will be released in September from HarperCollins. In the cookbook, just like at his restaurant, Salamon takes inspiration from ancestral recipes and updates them as he sees fit.

“‘Second Generation’ is not my grandmothers’ cookbook, but it is my way of sharing a bit of their magic with you,” he writes in the introduction of the book, which he started working on before Agi’s opened. “Hungarian food is extraordinary, unique and full of old wisdom. I’m reimagining those traditions with an eye toward seasonality, market-driven ingredients, and a touch of millennial flair … because I want to help bring Hungarian cooking out of the shadows and into the twenty-first century.”

This summer, as Salamon focuses on launching the cookbook, he’s excited to bring seasonal menu items to Agi’s like stuffed squash blossoms, chilled borscht and sorrel soup, and to continue to develop it as a neighborhood comfort food and upscale dining restaurant all in one.

“In some ways, it just feels like the little restaurant that could,” Salamon said. “I’m very, very proud of everybody here.”

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jiessicas · 1 year ago

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07.24.23 - 07.30.23

louise gluck: At the end of my suffering, there was a door

marcelo hernandez castillo: The lamps that wait inside me say come, the gift is the practice, the price is the door.

poets are such sweetly, necessarily, strategically useless beings; i like glancing at the menu even if i get an iced oat latte each time, the gesture of considering the other possibilities even if i may chose the same thing.

the spring that i unfolded back into its narration. i slipped in through the twist, look here, a mirror where i disappear.

me at grace cathedral: At the center of the labyrinth, there was a flower

??????????? ok wow this week was so intense but for the purposes of keeping up with some kind of update i'm uploading this lolol

things feel so full, and i feel myself really moved by each things that happened this week

i don't entirely know how i feel about all these things except that i'm wanting to pause to try to process all of these things - at the moment they feel like bits and pieces of images and feeling that each matter to me in different ways but i don't really know how they connect to one another (maybe they don't because time doesn't have to be teleological and it's fine) (i will note here i've been falling asleep on the couch most days...)

07.30.23 (sun)

pensive this morning but also happy cried - "i'm really happy you're in my life and through means that are of both of our accords / wishes" <3

picked up some pretty chairs (green, blue) from someone emptying their apartment near alamo square park

sat at automat for a lil w f & l then went to j's

saw t for the first time in a long moment and met v, set to a backdrop of jazz in a backyard, everyone was so familiar and comfortable w one another and it feels like a gift to get to step into a space like that

barted to east bay to catch a reading with marcelo hernandez castillo & ingrid rojas contreras that i'm still thinking about

late night shooting star cafe hangs with z, k, m 💭 many schemes underway

stayed up waaaay late w s, got crazy eyed because my working theory at the moment is that desire is at the core of Everything, it is Everywhere (My Obsessions Do Not Keep Me Up however i did stay up til 4 saying many many half sentences)

07.29.23 (sat)

so out of breath trying basketball this morning, "otherwise known as inequality ball" w v, d, s

"getting hit on and hit by a car - the two occupational hazards of running in san francisco"

getting crazy eyed talking about oppenheimer, as one does, it's funny to also remember that joyride is a piece of propaganda as well

wandered around destore, got hella sunburnt, etc

laid on j's couch to sift through all of my notes.....! from the last half year! j/me/s/n where sitting in different corners of the living room such that we saw each other through the frame of the window, or the bookshelf

carried a door home w s.. LOL

thai iced tea delivery to i

a devastating but necessary review of chen chen’s book, by angie sijun lou

07.28.23 (fri)

tab spacing has entered the chat... reading my own poems and wanting to hear the same cadences that i admire of others' poems

blick pickups; pier strolls with savory crepes; picked up "portrait of a ghost" to read on the pier for a little

theorizing interfaces with lil; "yeah my dad was a vc"

music and literature links ++ w f & c

powervixen afterwards; walked out at the end of the show to a misty lamplit stroll

07.27.23 (thurs)

spiraled w k at sfmoma….! don't even know where to begin here but fascinations w self help, sororities, appropriating vehicles towards others ends; turning over the model minority; bangh - speculative fictions, speculative instruments; native theories of mind +++++

undergrads from florida leaned over to tell us we should start that podcast we were talking about oh my gosh <3 it was so tender

we all went to a ksw reading and heard s read! z also came through, what a treat to sit in a room full of people at arc gallery

late night hangs w zzsskj hahaha at kowloon tong :) mango sagoooo +++

in a moment after the reading i thought, imagination and capacity are at stake

recognizing the mechanics of careerism, hope i can appropriate the structured choreography up until the point i dream of improv, remembering once again none of us are mere mechanism

07.26.23 (wed)

finished megan fernandes' "i do everything i'm told" -- "pound and brodsky in venice"; "phoenix"; "may to december"; "love poem"

re/read a.r. ammons' "modes against too much"

shuffled around my poetry books, and marveling at the books that have changed me, the poems in january of this year that have changed me & essays on poetry, like those in mary ruefle's "madness, rack, and honey," and "a poem as a machine?" by margaret rhee

texting lil plans for the thurs/fri/sat weekend! I Am A Social Creature

hung out at bpt and heard about a "political fellowship" started by a local entrepreneur / "you can tell irish people in new york because they're the ones just looking up and around" / bay area things: moving into an apartment complex and grilling together

suddenly blurting out: i don't want to do something stupid / there are plenty of things that are not stupid, like working at a bank, though they may be dry / i think i can stand drudgery, i can’t stand an apparatus that is doing something stupid

[redacted] is [redacted2]

stone fruit

07.25.23 (tues)

thinking about how experimental stories teach the reader how to read them as the story progresses, finds the form as it unfolds; wonder what it means to teach one another how to "read" or care for or love you as you begin to relate to one another

ran into s at the cafe, where i went to send a lil letter about rent raises (if you live in a rent-controlled unit in sf, check if your landlord has a license to raise your rent), thinking about butterflies and our friend whose name means butterfly

looping newjeans until it’s not longer possible to

read a bit of megan fernandes' "i do everything i'm told"

being a mild hater about [redacted] to c, who really liked it; appreciated the generosity of that convo which felt like an active practice in meeting someone in-our-differences (which has a slightly different feeling from Both Sidesism)

starting? continuing? what feels like a weird daunting process of decluttering; unearthed some corners of my room that may not have seen the light of day since i moved in ("i feel like i've been moving in for the last two years" between my own disorganization and rotating housemates) ~ it's finite but it's so long

i rotated my desk so that my back is to the wall, and cleared some floor space shuffling things into piles and filing away paraphernalia, and felt like i finally had a tenable workspace in my room (i'm going to look back on this whole house business and laugh at how deranged this all is...... but i'm currently In It)

sitting with the mild feeling of "i am drowning in books, i think" followed up with "i want to spend as much of my time catching up on them"

thinking about thich nhat hanh again and washing dishes; how ocean vuong said, "i spend more time washing dishes than i do writing poetry"

by eve i felt a natural close to the day, which i don't often feel -- it possible to do the little bits of work (breaking down boxes), however futile they feel, it feels like those little bits are, in that present, what is to be done (the usual worry about if i should be doing something else fades away, for a moment)

wellbutrin is working great <3 one step at a time

07.24.23 (mon) brain brrr like an overheating laptop fan; probiotics & pals

thinking about times people learn to drive from figures other than their parents, which for some reason makes me think of propagating plants; a propagation of drivers (l&f going to practice driving with f's sib!)

beginning living, or something which is to say, taking out the kitchen trash recycling compost, bathroom trash at the beginning of the week; sweeping up the fallen succulent; going mildly catatonic Thinking on the couch before managing to move to the bed to do the same

read alice sola kim's "now wait for this week" and in awe

a migraine set in (me, experiencing migraine & nausea - is my life falling apart / am i having an emotional breakdown)

my brain went brrr like an overheating laptop fan and then at the end of the day it was eased a bit with a voice hugs podcast / shuffling around my room to clean it / pickled goodies and probiotic drinks and a lil circle around the fire (coffee table candle) very thankful for my housemates ❤️‍🩹

#log #s23 #hagsooo23

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cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme · 2 years ago

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Omg you write for bloodborne? Please please pleaseeee can you write something for Micolash? I love him he's so weird!!

(not my art)

Your wish is my Command Anon.

Micolash…

I’m not gonna lie I’m a little salty with this fucker, I smashed my head against the wall for nine hours straight.

That said, he’s a fun guy if a little weird

…

Okay a lot weird

Literally the Epitome of

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You: Micolash, when was the last time you got any sleep?

Micolash: I don't know, 2/3 days, not important. I don't need sleep, I need answers. I need to determine where in this swamp of unbalanced formulas squatteth the toad of truth.

Ludwig: Toad of truth? Is that a physics thing?

You: No, that's a crazy thing.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

So now that we're starting this let’s get this out of the way he courts you in an unorthodox fashion.

And by unorthodox I mean completely batshit crazy.

He probably gave you the first working prototype of the Mensis cage so now you have a metal pasta strainer with metal chicken wire and copper wire wrapped around it sitting somewhere in your home.

You are banned from his lab, not because he doesn’t want you there, but because whenever he’s around you he becomes a bumbling fool and there are a L O T of things in there that if broken could unleash untold horrors upon the world.

Like the time he tried to mix drinks in there and accidentally released a modified version of the brainsucker larva.

Poor, poor, poor, Jeffery.

He’s a little awkward when it comes to any form of physical affection, by that I mean his hugs are stiff, holding hands is a little janky, and he’s kind of a struggle to snuggle with.

But he’s very affectionate in other ways.

He probably asked you out by a mathematical formula or biology question.

Your first date was a hole in the wall cafe in the middle of Yharnam.

Despite its outward appearance the cafe was very homey on the inside and had good food and drinks

You quickly realized why this place was so beloved by Micolash was not because of the food or drinks but because of the view that gave you and him a great look of yharnam and the forests.

Micolash (as always) looks like he needs a coffee (and to be placed in an insane asylum but that's neither here nor there.

Micolash is very polite, will ask you what you would like to drink and eat before ordering.

It’s here that you learn that he has quite the sweet tooth which he explained was developed during his time in Byrgenwerth as he did not particularly like the coffee at the school.

Micolash ordered six Scones, six Crepes, three Cranachans, and a few cups of coffee.

Your date with Micolash went very well with the two of you arranging another a week later.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-GENERAL HEADCANNONS-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

After the date Micolash was teased mercilessly by his associates and co-workers.

For some reason I think he was a mommas boy and I don’t know why.

I also think he is a pretty okay cook, I mean he doesn’t know how to make anything look pretty but as long as he has a recipe to follow and it isn’t too complicated he can probably make it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

#micolash host of the nightmare #Micolash x reader #micolash host of the nightmare x reader #bloodborne x reader #bloodborne

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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

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Make a Wish

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | College AU

Summary: It’s your birthday today and instead of giving you a box of gift, your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, decides to grant five of your wishes. You can’t help but feel a smirk creeping up your face. It’s time to get a little… creative.

This can be read as a stand alone but if you want to read it in order, you can start with Before Our Story Began and Jealousy.

You were having a dream. A really nice dream about your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, where for once in his twenty-years of living, he promised himself not to whine about anything ever again for the rest of his life. He was situated in difficult positions—got an F for the papers that he’d worked on for days, overcooked his eggs until they tasted like a pile of ashes in his mouth during breakfast, or lost a battle because Jaemin was too distracted with Jeno’s dick rubbing against his ass during the game. And even then, he did not form any complaint or whine with his head thrown back like how he usually would’ve done. It was a pleasant dream, seeing him all mature like that.

But then you woke up to the sound of that boyfriend of yours, screaming—literally screaming—directly to your ear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL,” as if it wasn’t the middle of the night where he could wake up the whole dorm.

So now, you’re glowering at him with bleary eyes, wiping your drool away with the back of your hand. Haechan shows his phone screen, grinning when he sees you noticing with squinted eyes that it’s 00.00 am and the date written underneath it is your birthday.

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter, sinking your face back into the pillow and pulling the blanket over your head. “I’ll see you in the morning. Night, Haechannie.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Your boyfriend is loud, too loud. You understand that Jaemin is having a sleepover at Jeno’s place so Haechan has the entire room for himself but that does not give him the right to scream right next to your ear like this. Especially when you’re this sleepy with nothing but exhaustion pumping through your veins.

“Noona~” He shakes you by the shoulder, peeling the blanket off your body and succeeding, even when you’ve tried your best to keep it tangled around you. “Come on, it’s your birthday. We have to celebrate!”

“We’ll celebrate when the sun is out. Like normal people.”

“No way, come on! You can sleep some other time!”

“You can be annoying some other time.”

He huffs loudly, puffing out his cheeks. “If you don’t get up, I’ll do things to you.”

You sigh. You know what kind of things he’s referring to and as much as you love it, you’re really drained from the part-time job you did earlier today. It’s true that you haven’t had sex with him for more than a week or so and you kind of miss doing those sort of things with him but you’re just so tired that you ended up crashing face-first on his bed earlier this evening the second you arrived in his room. You hadn’t even kissed him properly yet.

“Okay, fine.” You sit up on his bed with your shirt—or rather, his shirt—all wrinkled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “What do you want us to do? If it’s sex, you have to wait because I’m dead tired right now.”

“I wanted to give you your present, actually.” But the way he juts out his bottom lip seems like sex was exactly what he had in mind.

“Okay, so where is it?” You ask, considering you don’t really see him carrying a box of gift with a red bow wrapped around it.

“Well, it’s kinda predictable for me to be giving you like an actual present, so I thought hey, maybe I can grant you a wish. Any kind of wish,” he emphasizes, raising that eyebrow of his in the way he knows you like it. “If you know what I mean.”

You ignore him completely, though the sight of his sexy smirk still leaves you unfocused for a good few seconds. “Only one? On my birthday? Do you even want to do this or are you just making an excuse for not buying me a present?”

“Yah!” He scrunches his nose, playfully jabbing a finger to your stomach. “I don’t see you granting me any wishes on my birthday!”

“You wanted to come inside me and I allowed you to do just that. Twice. Stop being so ungrateful.”

That wipes the playful angry look off his face almost instantly. “You’re right, fine,” he concedes, looking at you with a disinterested look in his eyes. “How many wishes do you want then?”

“I don’t know, like, fifty?”

“The hell? Do I look like Santa to you?”

“If you keep eating those samgyeopsal past midnight, your belly will.”

“Stop body-shaming me, you little—“ He suddenly leaps over, attacking you with tickles to the sides of your stomach until you fall back to the bed with his bare chest hovering over your body. You retaliate by moving your legs around, trying to kick him away but failing every time. You can barely hold back your laughter. He only stops when your face grows scarlet and your chest heaving up and down, slightly out of breath. “I’ll give you three wishes,” he offers, a bit breathless as well. “Only because you look so irresistible right now with those lips of yours.”

“Make it ten, then.” You play with his necklace, twisting it around your finger. Your other hand draws a line on his golden skin, starting from the column of his neck down to his chest. “And I’ll be even more irresistible.”

“Hmm, tempting.” His lips slowly breaking into a sultry smile. “But no. I’ll give you three and that’s final.”

“If you give me five,” you say, hooking a finger around his silver necklace this time so you can bring his face down to yours and whisper in his ear, “I’ll let you cum in my mouth later today.”

His entire face beams up almost like a kid on his first school trip. “You get yourself a deal, sister!”

You smile, caressing his cheek softly with your fingers. His gaze softens, leaning against your touch like how a kitten would. “Well then, here’s my first wish,” you speak softly as if you’re telling a secret. Your lips are just a few inches away from his, and he licks his lower lip in anticipation. “No doing sexual activities whatsoever with me on my birthday.”

That sensual, excited look he has on his face earlier? Gone, being immediately replaced by sheer horror. “What?!” He shrieks when his realization sinks in. “BUT YOU SAID YOU’D LET ME CUM IN YOUR MOUTH LATER TODAY!”

You grin at him, almost cackling out loud. “It’s not fun being on the other side of a prank, is it now, Haechannie?”

“You’re so—” But even the infamous Lee Haechan can be at loss for words. “Not even a kiss?”

“Not even a hug,” you clarify, pushing his body away with both hands so he ends up sitting on his heels, only in his boxer. “I’ll allow you to hold my hands but that’s it.”

“But why?” The way he whines the word ‘why’, loud and long, is just so him. “Hugging is like a totally normal thing to do! People hug all the time! Even kids do! It doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“It becomes sexual when you keep popping out a boner during one.”

“Screw you.”

“Not today, Haechannie. Not today.”

***

Haechan, no matter how bratty he can act from time-to-time, does keep his promise intact. He hasn’t touched you for like eight hours by now, even when you were taking a shower inside his room and ‘accidentally’ leaving the bathroom door open. You heard him groan, “Seriously? You’re doing this to me now? You’re torturing me, Nooonaaaaa~” once during your shower, but he didn’t act on his desire. You’re actually quite surprised. You know just how much this is driving him crazy.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” you say, already looking all dolled up in the red dress he once bought for you. You know how much he likes it, know how much his eyes ogle your body from top-to-toe, staring at the way the fabric hugs your body perfectly, emphasizing your every curve.

He glares at you menacingly. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?” You play dumb, though you're sure your grin betrays you. “Come on, I’m starving. I’ll let you hold my hand as we walk, just make sure don't get a hard-on in the meantime.”

“Have I told you I hate you today?”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

The cafe near the dormitory you usually visit to get your daily intake of calories is closed for the day. “Why are they closed?” You ask, adjoining your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Maybe the old man has diarrhea or something.” He shrugs, hands buried deep inside the pocket of his black ripped jeans. The way they tightly hug his legs, combined with those holes, is becoming very distracting for you. “I sure as hell, hope so.”

“Will you let it go already? It was an honest mistake.”

“How on earth is putting wasabi in my cream soup an honest mistake? He totally did that on purpose!”

“Yeah, well, knowing how you just straight-up told him he looked like a walrus, I’m not even surprised he spiked your soup.”

“Now that’s an honest mistake, in which I tried to be honest but came out as a mistake.”

“You didn’t have to tell him he looked like a walrus, though.”

“But he did!” He groaned, stomping his feet on the ground. “He totally did! Look me in the eyes and tell me he didn’t look like a walrus, come on, I dare you.”

You roll your eyes. He’s always one for the dramatic. “Should we go somewhere else? How hungry are you right now?”

“For your love?” He smirked, sending you a flirty wink. “Starving.”

You make an exaggerated gesture of you vomiting your insides. “If you’re not that hungry, wanna just go grab some crepes and take a walk in the park?”

“Sure, why not.” His shoulders are relaxed as he yawns unattractively, though it still counts as adorable in your book. “Let’s drop by to that bakery you told me before on the way home. I’m gonna buy you a birthday cake.”

That earns a surprised smile from you. “I didn’t think you’d be this thoughtful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m always thoughtful.”

“Is calling a middle-aged man a walrus a form of your thoughtfulness?”

He snorts, tilting his head to the side with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Since when did you get this sassy?” You’re about to put another retort when he suddenly kisses your cheek.

“Hey!” You abruptly step away from him, palming the side of your face. “What did I tell you about my wish again?”

He grins, eyes turning into a cute pair of crescents. “Honest mistake, babe.”

And you poke him in the abs until he drops to his knees, whining, “Whyyyyyyyy?” into the air.

There’s this park near your campus that has nice scenery—unexpectedly picturesque, even—with a huge fountain in the center of it. The green leaves of the camphor trees sway from the morning breeze, intoxicating you with a scent similar to how the pine trees smell after the rain. Children are running around, playing tags, with their parents sitting next to the fountain, busying themselves with their phones while occasionally mutters, “Be careful, don’t run too much!” from time-to-time because apparently, that’s what parents do these days.

Haechan exhales loudly as he takes a seat on the nearest bench, straightening his legs and patting a spot beside him. “Come here. I want to cuddle.”

“There are people around.”

“Since when cuddling becomes a crime?”

“It makes people uncomfortable.”

“You saying no makes me uncomfortable.”

You sigh. There’s no way of winning an argument with him. “Fine, but I’m not sitting on your lap,” you say, ignoring his pout as you take a seat next to him and hand him his chocolate-banana crepes. “Careful, you’re wearing a white shirt,” you warn, offering him his spoon. “It’ll be hard to take the stain off if—”

“I’m not a child,” he grumbles, taking the food roughly off your hand and grimacing when the chocolate syrup drips down to his shirt, staining the fabric. He blinks in surprise with his mouth wide open, before he looks back at you, only to receive a flat stare in return.

“I literally just told you that a second ago.”

Haechan shrugs. “It’s Jaemin’s shirt anyway, so I don’t care.”

With that, you bring your focus back to the food in your hand—a strawberry crepes with a scoop of vanilla ice cream—and takes a bite, almost moaning in delight when the sugary taste hits your tongue. “Man, why did I ever decide to go on a diet? This tastes so gooooood~”

Your smile and small giggle seem to be contagious because Haechan mirrors you almost in the same way though it has nothing to do with the dessert he’s holding. He observes, silently taking notes of the joyful expressions you display on your face while muttering, “How cute,” under his breath. Both of you take a moment to enjoy your so-called breakfast, sometimes taking a sip of your hot coffee to balance the sweet.

“You know,” Haechan says as he gnaws at his dessert again. “This isn’t really how I expected to go when I said I’d grant your wishes.”

“Yeah?” You decide to humor him, though you already know what he’s thinking. “Did you expect me to wish for something else?”

He nods, licking chocolate syrup off his spoon. “Something about you sitting on my face.”

You choke on a piece of strawberry you just plopped into your mouth, and you can feel it blocking your airways. “What are you—” Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes, as you begin to cough fervently.

“What are you, a kid?” Haechan pulls your hair away from your face, patting your back. “There, there.”

“Why on earth would I ask about that?!” You shout when you can properly breathe again.

“I don’t know, I just thought that maybe you wanted me to eat you out.” The way he shrugs so nonchalantly as if he’s simply talking about finding a typo in the papers he just submitted leaves you dumbfounded. “I mean, I kept teasing you about it during sex but never really did it since you were always too stubborn to beg.”

“And do you realize now how annoying you are in bed?”

“That’s not my intention, though!” He genuinely seems a bit guilty. “You just look so cute trying to hold back when it’s obvious you want my tongue inside you—”

“We’re in public, Jesus Christ—”

“It’s your pride that we have a problem with. Why can’t you just for once say, with teary eyes, ‘Haechannie, please, fuck me with your tongue’—”

“People can hear—stop it!” You try to clamp your palm around his mouth, but he dodges it perfectly and places a playful kiss on the back of your hand instead. “And are you seriously begging me to beg you for it? I don’t think that’s how it works, Hyuck.”

“It’s because I actually really want to eat you out,” he groans, sighing into the air, “But I also want to see that cute embarrassed look on your face—do you see how big of a problem this is for me?” His whine falls short when he notices the look on your face. “Wait, are you blushing?”

“I’m not!” But you know you are, you’ve never been so ashamed before. How can you not? Your boyfriend is now a) talking about eating you out, loudly, in public, b) there’s this one passerby, a middle-aged woman who dresses in way too many layers for a day as hot as this, looking at you with the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen displayed on a person’s face, and c) Haechan is still talking about it. “Shut up and just get away from me!”

“Noona, your face is so red!” He’s giggling to himself now, his crepes dribbling more chocolate syrup onto his shirt from how much he’s moving. “Did I get you excited? Does this mean you’re gonna—”

“Next wish! I’ve already thought about my next wish!” You quickly avert his attention, desperately pushing his face with one hand so he’ll stop making kissy faces at you. “I want you to perform a song.”

“What, here?”

“Yeah, you don’t have a problem singing in front of people, right?”

“Of course not,” he snorts loudly. “I have an amazing voice. You know, people should really be paying me to hear me sing, actually.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, though deep down in your heart, you kind of admit that he really does have an amazing voice. His vocal is unique and distinct, easily noticeable even if there are a hundred vocalists in the room. And the way he does his adlibs whenever he sings his favorite tunes actually makes the song sounds a thousand times better. There’s no way you’re going to tell that to his face, though. His ego is already big enough without you feeding him compliments.

“Well then, you’re in luck.” You grin mischievously, nodding your head toward a band that’s been playing acoustic songs near the fountain for quite some time. There are three people playing instruments, with one of them being the vocalist and you comment inwardly in your head that Haechan sounds so much better than him—but maybe you’re just biased. The band is promoting their demo album, trying to get people’s attention to recognize their self-composed songs and buy their album if they fit their taste. No crowds are gathering in front of them, and you feel kind of sorry because they actually sound pretty good. “If you follow my wish and do it right, you could probably get some tips along the way.”

“You want me to sing with the band? I don’t think they’ll allow me though.”

“They will. I’ll buy their album in exchange.”

Haechan doesn’t seem eager at the slightest. “Must we waste our money away?”

“What, are you scared?” You taunt, raising one of your eyebrows challengingly because you know how much he hates to lose. And it works as expected, because Haechan is now standing up, throwing the rest of his crepes away to the nearest trash bin, and cracks his knuckles.

“Lee Haechan never runs away from a challenge.” He has this annoying cocky grin displayed on his face. “Tell me what song you want me to sing.”

“Your favorite. Man in The Mirror.”

“Dude, I nailed that song. Is this even a challenge?” He clicks his tongue, cocking his head. “So easy.”

He already has taken a few steps away, heading toward the band, when you stop him dead on his tracks by saying, “I know you nailed it. That’s why we have to keep it interesting so here’s my wish: I want you to sing out of tune.”

Even if you said that he was turning on his heels at the speed of light, it wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration. “NO FUCKING WAY.”

“Ah, but sadly,” you fake a pout, mocking him, “You promised you’d grant my wish.”

“But that’s just stupid! Why would I do something like that? Why would anyone do something like that?” He shakes his head furiously. “And doing this to my favorite singer?! Hell no!”

“Haechannie.”

“No.”

“Haechannie.”

“NO.”

You sigh, walking closer to him and pull him down by the hand to close the gap between your heights and murmur in his ear. “If you do that,” you breathe out, trying your best to sound as sexy as you can, “I might consider buying that customized dildo you want this weekend.”

Haechan has his jaw hanging low on his face, looking at you with his wide eyes shaking in disbelief. “Oh my God,” he whines, placing both hands on your shoulders before rocking you back and forth. “Noonaaaaa~ This is soooo not fair. You can’t do this to me!”

You chuckle at how childish he is. “So, how is it going to be, Lee Donghyuck-sshi?”

He contemplates hard about it—really hard, probably the hardest thinking he ever did in his entire life—nibbling on his lower lip as he does it. After a moment has passed, he finally ends it with his signature pout. “But you promise, right? No pranking me this time?”

“I promise,” you say with a firm nod but you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

“Fine,” he says as if it was the heaviest decision he has ever made. “Then, I’ll sing… off-key—eww!” He sticks out his tongue, clutching his arms around his stomach. “I’m about to throw up my crepes just by thinking about it.”

“Good luck.” You pat his shoulder. “Oh, and make sure you sing the first part like you always do, so people will notice and start listening to how amazing your voice is. And when they’re so into it, as you get to the second chorus, that’s when you start singing off-key.”

Haechan’s eyes are lifeless when they bore into you. “Isn’t it time for you to go back to hell, Satan?”

“Remember, Haechannie,” you press a finger to your lips, winking at him. “Customized. Dildo.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too.”

So both of you get into the business. After the band performed an acoustic version of their titled song, you approach them with a smile, offering your hand to the vocalist. You tell them how talented they are, making sure to bedazzle them with compliments and your charming attitudes so things can go as planned. It’s actually not that hard trying to convince them to accompany your boyfriend sing, especially when you say you’re going to buy two of their demo albums.

“What song do you want to sing, dude?” The vocalist, a friendly man most likely in his twenties with a goatee on his face, asks Haechan while offering a fist bump. Your boyfriend grimaces, bumping his fist against him like it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever done.

“Something wrong?” The man asks. “You look kinda pale, man.”

“He just ate something bad during breakfast earlier,” you come to answer him instead, rubbing Haechan’s back soothingly. “But he’s fine now. Can you guys play Man in The Mirror?”

“Michael Jackson, right? Sure thing.”

You elbow your boyfriend playfully on the side of his stomach. “Sure thing, he said.”

“I want to die.”

“Aaw, poor baby,” you pucker your lips, having the best time of your life making fun of him. “Now off you go, I’ll be right here.” And you bring your iPhone in the air, camera-ready with a tap of your thumb. Haechan has his eyes on the standing microphone, looking at it like it’s the most horrifying thing he’s ever witnessed in his life.

Haechan just barely takes a step forward before he runs back to your spot again, all jumpy and twitchy. “I can’t—I can’t do this—this is so embarrassing—”

“On three, okay, man?” The vocalist takes a seat on one of the little stools they have placed next to the amplifiers with his Fender guitar placed firmly on his lap. And before Haechan can give him a nod or any sign in return, he begins counting and the entire band plays the song. There’s no way out of this now.

Haechan finally walks toward the mic with his soul most likely leaving his body with every step he takes.

You give him a cheer as loud as you can—not to support him, but so you can gather people’s attention. Haechan shushes you down in panic before he finally takes the mic, constantly throwing ice daggers at you with his eyes. You begin to chant his name—“Lee Donghyuck! Lee Donghyuck!”—and with every shout of it, Haechan dies a little bit more.

Haechan falls two beats behind before he finally sings into the microphone, his voice resonating through the air. He does sound amazing, albeit a little nervous and that’s probably just because he’s doing the dare. He usually sounds confident, his voice sounding strong and clear not caring if the room is empty or filled with people so this anxious version of him really makes you think that maybe you’ve forced him a little bit too far.

He completes the first part of the song rather easily and the entire band behind him nod their heads along to the music, amazement sparkling in their eyes. You can see the vocalist quietly mouths, “Damn, he’s good,” to the member sitting beside him who shortly agrees wholeheartedly. You can’t help but smile at that, looking like a proud mom.

People, one-by-one, begin to gather around you, whispering to one another, asking, “Who is he? What band is this?” or simply praising his vocal and your smile grows wider. It vanishes almost instantly, though, the second you hear some girls chattering behind your back, talking about how attractive Haechan looks—especially in that leather jacket and those dark combat boots he’s wearing. You never pegged yourself to be a jealous, overprotective girlfriend before but with Haechan, perhaps you’re beginning to turn exactly into that.

Haechan, who seems pretty pleased with how he sang the first part, suddenly begins to fidget on his feet. The more he gets closer to the second chorus, the paler he becomes and he has his eyes tightly shut when he’s finally there, singing the first two lines in the right way before forcing himself to sing off-key.

You blurt out laughing but immediately clasp a hand over your mouth. Haechan looks like he’s in pain, and the rest of the band has their eyebrows furrowed in question, looking back and forth at each other, probably asking, what the hell is wrong with this dude, he was doing so good before. The audience begins to look at one another, eyebrows knitting in concern. New visitors stop in their tracks, looking at your boyfriend with judging looks on their faces. Even the parents that were so busy with their phones before begin to lift their heads from the screen, trying to know who is this terrible singer and why is he wailing like this.

Haechan sounds so awful and you can only imagine how much this is killing him from the inside. He barely gets to the end of the second chorus before he turns to face the band, bowing his head and shouting, “I’m so sorry!” before he scrambles on his feet, running toward you.

“Wait, Hyuck, you haven’t finished—” Your protest ends in laughter when Haechan rashly hooks an arm around your shoulder, breaking through the crowd and forcing you to match his steps so you can leave the park for good.

He’s never stepping into this place ever again, you’re sure of it.

***

On the way back to the dorm, you stop by the bakery you’ve been wanting to visit and Haechan buys you a birthday cake as promised but with a permanent pout displayed on his place.

“A cake for your girlfriend?” The cashier lady asks with a friendly smile.

Haechan simply pouts harder, muttering, “Yes, my super annoying girlfriend.” And you pop out from behind his back, raising a hand in the air as you beam at her with a cheeky grin, “Yep, that’s me!”

Haechan walks next to you on the sidewalk as if he just did the longest marathon he ever did in his life—all drained out and slow on his steps. His shoulders are hunched forward, his eyes droopy and every time you take a peek and share a glance at him, he’ll start fuming again—like an angry child, upset for being left alone in his grandma’s house while the whole family went on a trip.

“Okay, knowing how fast you’re walking right now,” you mutter sarcastically, looking at the nonexistent watch you wear around your wrist for dramatic effects, “We’ll be back in our dorm at approximately eighty-four years from now.”

“Whatever. I’m still angry at you.”

“But we just started! I thought you wanted to make me happy.” You try to look as sad as possible, batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s my birthday, you know.”

“I wasn’t aware that making you happy equals giving me emotional distress.” After two seconds passed by in silence, he adds, “And physical pain.”

You smile at the attitude he’s giving, wondering just how cute can this man be by the end of the day. Maybe you should keep torturing him a little.

Just a little bit more.

“Haechannie,” you roll his name off your tongue in a playful manner, wrapping both arms around his right one. “I’m ready for my next wish.”

“Didn’t you listen to any word I just said?”

“See that old lady over there?”

“Yeah, you clearly didn’t.” Haechan follows your gaze with a heavy sigh, not quite pleased with how easily you ignore his complaints, and he sees a grey-haired woman, old enough to be his grandmother, sitting alone on a bench with a book on her hands and her glasses hanging dangerously low on the bridge of her nose. Her cane lays still on her side, and by the look of it, she appears to be waiting for someone.

“Oh come on, leave her alone,” Haechan says, already looking sorry for her even when you haven’t said anything yet. “She’s so old and she looks so frail. I am not going to do your stupid dare at the cost of her life.”

You roll your eyes.“Relax, I won’t ask something that stupid.”

“Oh, because your first wish was just so brilliant, I suppose?”

“I’m serious, I’m not that mean.” Not to her, at least. “I just want you to sit next to her on the bench and act like it’s the worst day of your life.”

“I won’t be calling that acting,” he grumbles. “I am having the worst day of my life.”

“What? I thought we’re having fun!” You try so hard to look sympathetic enough for him but it’s almost an impossible deed to do when you’re seconds away from laughing.

“You’re having fun.” He squints his eyes menacingly. “I’m having a fucking seizure.”

“You’re fine, don’t be too dramatic.” You card your fingers through his hair, pushing back the bangs from his eyes to showcase his temple exactly the way you like it. “Well, I want you to act sad—like, really sad, bawling your eyes out and everything—and when she asks you why, explain that you just found out you’re adopted.” You press something against his palm. “Here.”

Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he takes a look at it. “What’s this?”

“A postcard with a picture of your parents. I just bought it at the minimart before when you were in the bakery.”

“But…” He stares in horror. “They’re Americans.”

“Exactly.” You know there’s a shit-eating grin blooming on your face but you cannot wipe it off. “You can walk away after she tries to comfort you or give you some advice or something.”

Haechan keeps scowling at you as if he wanted to eat you alive, but you charm him with your brightest smile until he sighs and tucks the postcard in the back pocket of his jeans. “You know I’ll pay you back for this later, right?”

“Wha—I thought you said you’ll grant me any wishes for free!”

“MAN, IF I COULD JUST TURN BACK TIME—“ He yanks out his hair, making you a bit worried because you love his soft, adorable brown locks and he’s been tugging at them for quite some time today. “Okay, fine, I’ll do it. I no longer have any shame left in my body anyway. Or soul, for that matter.” He turns on his heels, straightening his jacket as if that could give him more courage. “You better not blink your eyes.”

“It’s okay even if I do.” You bring out your phone, waving it in the air. “’Cause I’m recording it. This will go viral on Youtube.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

It takes a good ten minutes for Haechan to prepare himself for the stupid dare he’s about to do, even though he previously claimed he had no shame whatsoever. He paces back-and-forth at the sidewalk, stomping his feet once or twice restlessly, and mutters quietly to himself, “Man up. Man up, you idiot. It’s just a stupid dare.” You desperately want to have a miniature size of this Haechan and keeps him inside your pocket so you can watch him being nervously cute all day long with his cheeks puffed in anger.

“Okay, I’m going.” And he finally steps forward, braver this time, and sits down on the other end of the bench, twiddling his fingers in anxiety. You bite your lip to contain your laughter and press record.

Almost fifteen seconds have passed by and there’s no reaction, not even a glance, coming from the old lady. You can see Haechan nibbling persistently on his lip, his feet tapping worriedly on the ground before he finally lets out the loudest, heaviest sigh in the history of mankind. It’s so loud that it makes the old lady jumps on her seat, her hands going to her chest, her book left abandoned on her lap. Haechan also looks surprised knowing that she’s surprised and everything just looks so hilarious that your camera begins to shake from how hard you try not to laugh.

“I-is there something wrong, my dear?” The old lady asks, shifting her body a little on her seat so she can face him properly.

Haechan takes a deep breath and begins his act by burying his face in his hands, faking a sob. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I just—” He sniffles loudly, trying to make it obvious to her that he’s in agony. “It’s the worst day of my life.”

And it’s cheesy, how he acts, but she seems to buy it—or maybe she’s just too kind. “May I ask what happened? I’m not sure I can help but…” She lands her shaky hand on his back, caressing him soothingly. “It’s always better to pour your feelings out instead of bottling them inside.”

She sounds so genuinely compassionate, unlike the maniacal laughter that currently tumbles down your lips.

Haechan lifts his head, turning towards her. His eyes begin to droop, making him look like a kicked puppy. “I just found out…” He sniffs for dramatic effects. “That… That I’m adopted!” And he loudly whimpers into his hands again.

The old lady gasps, covering her parted lips with her thin fingers. “Oh my… Did your parents tell you that?”

“No, it’s even worse. I found out on my own when they were talking in their room.” Haechan rummages his back pocket, handing her the postcard. “Here, look. It’s a picture of my parents.”

The lady takes the postcard with a pair of heartbroken eyes but they soon begin to change when she notices that the two people in the picture are straight-up Americans, while Haechan, needless to say at this point, looks like the most common—though far more handsome—Korean boy you can encounter on daily basis.

“I know,” Haechan says, wiping a nonexistent tear out of his eyes and fakes another sob. “Surprising, isn’t it? I mean, we look so much alike, there’s no way I would’ve guessed I was adopted if I didn’t hear them talking about it behind my back.”

The old lady is still pretty much dumbstruck with how bizarrely stupid everything is, but she’s too kind to call him out on it. She hands the postcard back to him, looking much less sorry this time, and takes a moment of silence. Haechan cries against his palms again, and you wonder if he’s only faking it or being real about it this time because the entire situation is just painfully awkward.

“You see, my dear,” she begins, voice gentle and reassuring but the sincerity isn’t really the same as before. “Sometimes it really can feel like the world is ending, and I know that this must be hard for you,” she stops to knit her eyebrows, “no matter how obvious this should’ve appeared to you. But maybe it’s not about having a picture-perfect family, but about finding beautiful moments.”

“You’re right,” Haechan hurriedly agrees, his eyes twinkling in delight knowing that this excruciating dare is about to end. “I’m happy with them being my family, even if they’re not, you know, really my parents.”

She smiles but it kind of looks like a grimace, and she says her next words with a gentle pat on his back. “But shouldn’t you have noticed about it sooner, though, dear? You look nothing like them.”

And Haechan winces, not sure how to react. “I could be, uhh…” He licks his lips nervously. “Quite dumb, sometimes.”

“Yes,” she nods, still patting his back. “You certainly can.”

A tall man, at least ten years older than Haechan, approaches their spot with a paper bag in his arms. “Mom, are you ready to—” he stops to take a look at your boyfriend, trying to understand the situation of why is his mother sitting way too close to a guy dressed flirtatiously in a leather jacket and boots with her hand caressing his back. “What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m adopted,” Haechan says, handing him the same stupid picture. “She’s just consoling me about it.”

He takes a look and sends him his biggest judging look. “Dude, what are you, stupid?”

***

Haechan is still fuming all the way back to his dorm and no matter how much you apologize about it, he still doesn’t want to talk to you. He throws himself on his bed with his shoes still on the second he enters his room. You’re still smiling quietly to yourself, can barely handle all the cuteness he’s emitting.

“Haechannie,” you gently call, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Are you still upset?”

No answer.

“Look, I said, I’m sorry. Talk to me, please?”

Haechan has his face pressed flat against his comforter and you secretly wonder whether he can even breathe in that position. A few seconds passed by in silence before Haechan finally mumbles, “Did it make you happy?”

“What, you doing my stupid dares?” You can already feel another laughter bubbling up your throat but you have to contain it. You can’t hurt him more than this. “Yes and I know I’ve been mean to you and I’m sorry for that, but you were so cute.” You run a hand along his spine before you carefully caress his hair as a mother would do to a child. “Please don’t be mad.”

He eventually sits up, crossing his legs on the bed, sniffling a little bit while still avoiding eye contact. “Well, I guess, as long as you’re happy.”

“Are you crying?”

“No,” he states, practically puffing out his cheeks by now. “I’m just so embarrassed with all of this. Why are you being so mean to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come here.” You motion him to come closer, and you know it’s breaking the rules of your first wish but you don’t care. This giant teddy bear desperately needs a hug.

Haechan immediately sighs when you stand with your knees pressed on the bed, wrapping both arms around his head. He sinks his face to the crook of your neck, lowly murmuring, “I hate you,” with his breath fanning your skin.

“You’ve been saying that a lot.”

“Yeah, because you’re mean.”

“But I love you even more today,” you softly reply, pulling away a little so you can trace your fingers along the smoothness of his cheek. “You’re so adorable, Hyuck, do you know that?”

“Is singing out of tune and harassing old lady your kink or something?”

“That’s not it.” You pinch the bridge of his nose, making him yelp a little. “It’s just the way you forced yourself to do these things—these things you hate the most—for me and asking me whether they made me happy or not, while still being all grumpy about it. You’re just so cute and I love you for that.”

The sun is setting outside his window, illuminating his face with such a warm, beautiful glow that somehow makes him appear a bit more melancholic and angelic at the same time. He finally drags his eyes back on yours, with his bottom lip still jutting out slightly. He says the next four words so quietly under his breath that you can barely hear them. “What?”

“I said, I love you too,” he repeats in a rush, before he sinks his face in the slope of your neck again, whining all the way. “Don’t make me say it like this, it’s weird.”

And you notice that this is actually the first time he truly confesses his love for you. He’s joked about it a lot, toying with your feelings at least ten times within a day, casually throwing the word love as if it meant nothing more than mere decoration for his flirtatious lines. But now that he’s saying it in all the seriousness he can muster, he can barely look you in the eyes, can barely say it without whispering, and it’s cute how the usually confident Lee Haechan, crumbles into nothing but a shy little boy facing his feelings for the first time.

“Ah seriously,” he murmurs against your hair. “What are you doing to me? I’m not usually like this.”

You can’t help but tease him. “Yes, you’re usually more satanic.”

“Yah—”

And you stop him with a soft kiss to his lips. You can feel him taking a sharp breath, his arms stiffening as they circle your waist. You’re about to kiss him again when you feel him tensing against your body. Noticing how he looks a bit baffled, you carefully tug yourself away. “What is it?”

“I thought you said we couldn’t kiss today,” he tells in such a small voice.

“I said no sexual activities,” you retort with a sly smirk, making a poor excuse because you really miss kissing him. “This isn’t sexual,” you say, pressing your lips against his again but stop before he can return it. “This is romantic.”

He’s so distracted with your lips that he can barely take his eyes off them even when he talks. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” You can’t help but grin but it does not stay long when Haechan suddenly hooks his arm around your hip and pulls you closer until you’re forced to climb into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist for balance.

“Haechan—” Your protest is swallowed by his kiss, his lips chasing after yours almost frantically. You can tell how much he misses you from the way his lips move against yours, or from the way he moans softly at the back of his throat as he settles his hand on the side of your face. His other hand holds you tighter by the waist, his fingers fisting the fabric of your dress. He angles your head to the side, kissing you with parted lips and swiping his tongue along your lower one so you’ll gain him entrance.

“Noona,” he whispers between quick breaths, sounding almost needy. “Noona, I need—”

“Okay, stop.” You place your arms on his shoulders, expanding the space between you. You can’t believe you almost got carried away. “Now this is getting sexual. Let’s head over to my next wish.”

“Wait—but I’m—” He stares at you bewilderedly, not believing the fact that you just casually drag your body away from his lap, smoothen down your hair as if nothing just happened. “Are you serious? You’re playing with me again? When I’m like this?”

“Sorry.” You peck him on the cheek, hiding your grin. “So, for my next wish—”

“Yah! Listen to what I’m saying—”

“I want you to—”

“Noonaaaaaaaa~”

“—sing me a lullaby.” His whining stops abruptly at your words and you quickly explain further before he does it again, “I’m sleepy so I’m gonna take a nap. Your job is to sing me a lullaby until I fall asleep. Easy, right?”

“You really just do whatever you want, don’t you?”

“Only for today. You, on the other hand, do that every day.”

“Fair enough. Do I get to choose the song?”

“Sure.” Knocking your high heels off your feet, you lie down on his bed with a thump, contentedly basking in his scent because his pillows, the duvet underneath you, the soft sheet below your fingertips—everything smells pleasantly like him. Haechan takes off his shoes and his leather jacket—which almost earns a loud protest from you because he looks so good with that jacket on—throwing them somewhere near the bed without care and he lies down by your side, facing you.

You turn your body to face him as well. “Hey, handsome.” You smile sheepishly at him.

He seems a bit caught off guard by it, but smiles back. “Hi.”

“Can we cuddle?”

He laughs softly at that. “Come here.” He gathers your entire figure easily in his arms and you sink your nose to his chest, humming in pleasure. “Stop being so cute, you’re torturing me.” You only giggle in response.

Haechan begins to sing, slowly at first as if he suddenly feels pressured with the way the room is so deep in silence, leaving no excuse for him to make in case he fails. You notice that, so you sneak both of your arms around his waist, snuggling even closer. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

“I’m not. Why would I be?” He masks his slightly shaky voice with a chuckle. “It’s just that your hair keeps getting into my mouth whenever I try to sing.”

“Of course.” And you keep your lips tightly shut, giving him the time he needs.

Haechan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Had a perfect picture in my head, with you in the most beautiful dress,” he sings, beautiful notes flowing down from his lips, making you feel like everything around you becomes a blur and there’s only him with his velvety voice and his soft, warm breathing. “I look happy as ever, how did I let you go again.”

He gains confidence with more seconds passing by and you can feel his arms growing slack around your waist, no longer as tense. “Now I'm standing alone in the rain, like the kinda movie that we used to hate. Wish I could take back the time, but I know this time it's real.”

You’re not sure whether it’s because of the lyrics or the way he sings, but as beautiful as his honeyed voice sounds, you can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness growing inside you. It’s as if he’s not singing the song, he’s living through it. And you wonder maybe he’s had his heart broken by someone before—or maybe he’s just so good at putting emotions to his song, you’re still not sure yet.

“Hate that I'm singing this song. Hate that I have to be strong.” Haechan absentmindedly runs his fingers up and down your spine, before he tangles them around the strands of your hair, gently stroking them. “Hate that you're gone. I hate all my flaws. Hate that you love someone else. Hate everything. Just hate everything right now.”

It’s so genuine and soft the way he serenades you, baring his soul and you’re not even looking at his eyes as he sings it. By the end of it, you can’t help but ask him a question. “Will you be singing that song if you ever break up with me?”

He curls up closer, burying the tip of his nose in your hair. “No,” he says but continues before your disappointment can sink in, “If we ever break up, I won’t be doing anything besides getting you back. I don’t like to lose, you know how I am. And I definitely don’t want to lose something—or rather, someone—this important to me.”

“Stop flirting with me,” you chime in, pulling away a little so you can take a look at his face. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers.”

But Haechan doesn’t smile or act cocky about it. He just takes his time analyzing your face, taking in your features as he trails his fingers down from your hair, to your cheek, and finally stopping at the curve of your lips. “I was so worried before though when you met your ex behind my back. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just…” He loses his words when you begin to kiss his fingertips, his eyes becoming unfocused. “I don’t know, I just got anxious about it. I’ve never had someone like you before so…”

It really just sinks in that he wasn’t merely angry because you were seeing your ex-boyfriend again, he was just afraid. He was terrified of losing you but didn’t know how to react properly. He keeps on telling that you belong to him, that he owns you and everything but he doesn’t intend to dominate you. It’s just a way for him to convince himself that you’re still with him, and not in someone else’s arms.

You can feel your lips curving up into a smile. He’s just a clueless boy, probably still as inexperienced as you are when it comes to love.

You’re sinking more into his arms, sighing as he rakes his fingers down your spine. When silence starts to hang in the air, tension growing thick, Haechan spares you a glance. “Noona?”

You’re not sure what it is inside you that drives you wild but when you’re awake from your reverie, your lips are on his again, melting against his heat, and desperately asking him to deepen the kiss.

The way he inadvertently moans against your lips indicates that your kiss catches him off guard but he soon finds back his pace. He crawls on top of you, pressing your body closer, chest meeting chest, and murmurs your name with his silvery voice against your ear, successfully sending goosebumps to every inch of your body.

“Forget my first wish.” You can barely recognize your own voice from how husky it has become. He has his lips tracing your jawline, about to map his way down but you keep him still, not wanting to erase the warmth of his lips on yours just yet. “It’s a stupid wish anyway. I don’t know why I even asked that.”

Haechan forms a space between you, just to take another look at your face. His eyes are hooded, gleaming with desire. “Well then,” he rubs his thumb along your lower lip, while his tongue traces his own. “Can I kiss you more?”

“Yes.” It sounds more like a plead than affirmation, strongly painted with urgency. “Come here.”

Haechan’s lips are warmer than how they usually felt but you can’t be certain. It’s been a while since you last shared an intimate moment with him and you just now realized that it really isn’t just him who desperately seeks attention. You crave his touch way more than he does for yours.

But maybe that’s not true after all, because Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed as he kisses you passionately, his lips keep searching for yours whenever you try to pull away to catch a breath. The way he sinks his fingers along your hips, how determined he is in keeping you close to the point you can start counting on his eyelashes—everything that he does screams his emotions vividly. How much he longs for you. How much he misses the taste of your breath on his tongue.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, your fingers pressed against his jaw. “Please…”

Haechan blinks, a bit startled and perhaps a tad confused as well, considering you stopped him from going too far earlier. But he doesn’t complain and takes every chance he can get, if it means he can be closer to you. It’s so soft, the way he kisses you now, as if he’s having his first kiss, not sure if he’s doing it right but you don’t mind. It’s rare, being kissed by him like this, and somehow it makes your skin tingle as if merely just a touch of his lips is sending electricity to your entire body.

“I love you,” you whisper as you share his breath. “I really do love you, Hyuck.”

The way he halts his action for a good two seconds, probably letting your words sink into his head, makes your own heart skip a beat or two. And you’re worried if you say too much, or if you’ve become too needy and it annoys him, but when you sneak a glance at him, you notice how his cheeks are tainted with red before he leans closer, roughly murmuring, “Just kiss me again,” against your lips.

But the way he’s holding your body makes you feel way more loved than the words he said earlier. And he’s taking his time, just gently moves his lips against yours, his tongue slipping in only slightly to steal a taste. But you sigh against his mouth either way because it’s not only his kiss that weakens you, it’s his entire presence—the way his warmth seeps through the fabric of your dress, the way he’s holding back a moan when you unconsciously tug his locks a little bit too hard, or the way he just naturally smells so sweet, almost honey-like, numbing your other senses at once.

“Noona,” he breathes heavily, tilting his head to the side so you’ll have better access to running your lips against the skin of his neck. “I want… I need…” he trails off, too busy looking at the way you’re slipping your fingers underneath his shirt, tracing his hot feverish skin with your cold digits. “I really need you now.”

“Then keep touching me,” you mumble against his jaw, searching for his lips again. “I want to feel you too. Come closer.” But even if your words speak a sense of urgency, your fingers still feel as light as a feather on his skin and he seems to notice that, because he’s keeping up the same pace, not suddenly rushing to tear your clothes apart like how he usually does.

He chants your name over and over again, almost like a prayer, his desire running thick in his veins. As he moves down, his fingers find their way to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, and he takes his time to kiss every inch of your body that’s revealed to him one by one.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to do this to you,” he confesses, his nose skimming along the skin of your shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” You arch your back, desperately needing to close the space between you. “I’ve missed you too.”

And you’re half-expecting him to put on a smirk and asks, “Yeah? How much, exactly?” But this time, he doesn’t. His lips are busy marking your skin, sucking gently at the spot that makes you curl your toes. He brings his eyes back to yours again when your lips moan out his name.

“Don’t do that,” he says, looking like he’s gradually losing control of himself. “You know how that drives me crazy.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“I love it, but—” He suddenly presses his lips hard against yours, as if there’s another person inside him that’s been screaming at him to latch his lips with yours before he wastes more second talking nonsense. And you try to reciprocate the movement of his lips with the same speed but he doesn’t give you much room to improvise. He knows what he’s doing, all you need to do is just relax and blend into the kiss. He already makes everything so easy for you. The problem is, he makes you feel like something is pressing against your chest and your stomach is doing crazy flips over and over again.

He finally stops again when you gasp his name.

“Ah, no, seriously.” It’s like he’s fighting a battle within himself, pulling away from you and shaking his head. “I want to take it slow today, Noona, but you moaning my name like that is not making it easy for me so please, just don’t—” He exhales, pressing his temple against yours with his eyes closed. “Don’t torture me like that.”

It’s cute how he tries to hold back, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I’m fine with the way you usually hold me, though.” It’s tempting, and he’s pretty much dazed with the sultry smirk you have on your face, but he shakes his head again, snapping him back from his own thoughts.

“No, it’s your birthday,” he says, eyes switching back and forth from your eyes to your lips as he tries to enunciate his reason. “I want to make it special.”

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “So you’re saying that all the sex we did before today wasn’t special to you?”

He gapes. “No, that’s not—”

“Just kidding.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Okay, then, do your thing.” You sit up straight so you can undress properly and his eyes are instantly glued to your chest when your bra slips down your shoulders. You don’t really intend to make it sexy, but the way his eyes grow wide when you say “I’m all yours,” and lies down on his bed again in nothing but your laced underwear seems to indicate that that’s exactly how you look in his mind.

He mutters an almost inaudible fuck under his breath before he snaps himself out of his reverie again. He stands with his knees pressed on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before he hovers back on top of you, peppering wet kisses from your ear to your neck before he ends it with his tongue trailing down the valley of your breasts.

He stops to reach for his drawer, searching for a condom while you struggle to unfasten his belt and unbutton his jeans. You’re finished a few seconds sooner and already have your back pressed against the sheet again when he crawls on top of you with a packet of condom between his teeth.

“No, wait.” You catch him by his arm as he’s about to tear the package with his teeth. “I’m on the pill today too so you can do it without.”

“Well, fuck,” he exhales, latching his lips back to yours again. “Why are you being so nice to me today?”

“You literally just complained about me being mean to you a few minutes ago.”

“Well, now that I get to come inside you again, I’m taking all my words back.” He gives playful kisses on your nose and cheeks before he licks around your face like how a cute little puppy would.

“Stop it, you’re gross!” But your airy laughter soon begins to vanish, only to be replaced with a sense of uncertainty. You begin to feel nervous when he hooks his fingers around the edge of your underwear and pulling it down your legs, baring yourself completely for his eyes. He’s seen you naked countless times and you never really felt this nervous before so it must be because—

“You seem to be thinking about something,” he interrupts, parting your legs so he can slide in between them. “Something wrong?”

“Umm—I—“ It’s not the way you stutter that betrays you; it’s the prominent blush that stains your cheeks. But you have to do this. You have to say this. Not just for your sake, but his too. “Haechannie..?”

“Yeah, Noona?”

“For my next wish…” You wet your lip anxiously, swallowing your breath, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “C-can you eat me out, please…?”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so startled by your action—or by anything, really—to the point that he has to remind himself to blink. “What?”

You groan, hastily grabbing a pillow nearby and use it to cover your face. “Don’t make me say it again, you idiot!” You expect him to laugh, or worse, mock you about it but instead, he snatches the pillow away, throwing it to the side, and wraps his fingers around your wrists, holding you in place.

“Noona, please,” he pleads, his cheeks turning scarlet, mirroring yours. “Please say it again. I want to see you when you say it.”

It’s actually borderline hilarious the way he’s so serious about it, and perhaps it’s really his biggest turn on—one that he hasn’t seen coming from you after all this time—so you decide to swallow your pride and indulge him further.

You repeat your words and watch as his eyes widened again for a split second before they turn gentle, looking so happy that you finally get to answer his wish. “About damn time,” he whispers against your lips, his husky voice reverberating nicely to your ears as he tastes every bit of your mouth with his tongue. He wastes no more time, heading south while placing more wet kisses down your body.

His lips are hovering above your heat, and you can really feel his breath down there. You have your eyes closed in anticipation but Haechan suddenly says, “You know what, let’s do it this way.”

He leaves you hanging and you’re about to be swallowed by shame but he suddenly lies down on the bed, his head almost touching the headboard, and motions you to come closer. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I want you to sit on my face,” he says and you almost choke on your saliva. “Come here, Noona. Please.”

And it stresses you out so much because you’ve never done this before—never even thought about it even—and you figured you just had to lay there and let him do whatever he wants with you. Crawling over to sit on his face is clearly not what you had in mind.

“Come on,” he lightly sneers when he sees how nervous you are. “I won’t bite.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, feeling a little bit lightheaded from how embarrassed you are, but when he offers a hand, you take it and follow his lead.

You have your legs on each side of his head and he’s holding you by your hips, guiding you to lower yourself down to him. “Stop being so tense,” he chuckles and you flinch because he’s so dangerously close. “It’s not like I’ve never seen you up-close before.”

“It’s different—” You gasp when he swipes his tongue against your folds, just once, before he asks, “Different how?”

You’re too occupied with sorting out your feelings and all these sensations that coming into your head at once. “I don’t know, it’s weird—” You almost whine when you feel him moving his tongue again.

“Your thighs are shaking, Noona,” he chuckles, and you clench your teeth, trying to be less conscious of how his hot breath hitting your sensitive spot.

“Please, s-stop talking.”

“I’m trying to make this casual,” he says, his voice sounding less clear as it hits your skin. “If I stop talking, you’re gonna start thinking about things again.”

“I’m not—Haechannie—” You bring your fingers to cover your mouth to stop you from moaning too loud. He’s giving tentative licks around your clit, moving agonizingly slow and you fumble with your hands, not knowing where to place them. Everything feels both terrifyingly good and painfully awkward and you’re trapped between wanting to continue and stop at the same time.

“Here,” Haechan offers, taking one of your hands and guides it down until it finds home in his hair. “Or you can lay your hands against the headboard. But I prefer you do it this way so I’ll know if you’re feeling,” he stops to licks a stripe up your folds, making you shiver, “good, or,” this time, he stops to suck hard on your clit, startling you with the amount of pleasure jolting through your veins that your body begins to tremble. “Extremely good,” he finishes, moving to the side so he can place a kiss on your thigh, letting you feel his teasing smile on your skin.

Your breathing tatters as he continues with his ministrations, now adding one of his fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. Your head hangs low, and you’re not able to tear your eyes away from his face. Seeing him between your thighs, with his eyes closed as if he’s enjoying every second of it, is just the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“You seem to be much more relaxed now,” Haechan leans back to show you his godforsaken smirk, “Good girl. Are you starting to regret the fact we didn’t do this sooner?”

And you want to be upset about it—about how he’s still teasing you even during this moment—but the way his breath keeps fanning against your sensitive skin makes you weak. “Please just…” You’re about to sob because it’s too damn embarrassing to be put in this situation. “Stop teasing me, Hyuck…”

Haechan blinks at your expression, his gaze immediately softens. “I’m sorry,” he says, kissing you gently on the inner part of your thigh again. “You’re just so damn cute, I can’t help but tease. Forgive me?”

And you just answer with a small nod because that’s all you can offer before his lips are pressed against your entrance again, tongue slipping inside to know how you really taste.

“Wait—” You begin to panic from how good and weird it feels. “L-let’s stop for a sec—It’s too much—” The shame, the sensation, the pleasure—they’re all hitting you hard at once and you’re too nervous to function properly.

Haechan sneaks a glance at your face, taking in the way it contorts into several emotions at once. “Baby,” he calls out softly, which sends shivers down to your core. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

You notice how he’s imitating your words from earlier and that gives you the chance to think about something else. “But… What about you..?” You ask, making eye contact with him and gulping when he raises his eyebrow in question. “I mean, I can’t please you like this.”

“Oh…” He leans his head down to the bed, giving you the space you want but not exactly what you need. “Then… Wanna do it at the same time?”

You nibble at your bottom lip, slowly nodding your head and his eyes gleam excitedly in response.

“Ah, you’re the best, seriously,” he exhales, dreamily looking at you. “All right then, turn around.”

***

It’s two hours before midnight when another idea pops up in your head. “Haechannie,” you call him out, as you click off your phone and turn to him. Hearing him humming in response, you continue. “Call Jaemin and the rest of your cute little boyband.”

By the tone of your voice, he knows he’s going to go through hell again. He groans out loud, head dangling around the edge of his bed. “Why is this day not over yet, I swear to God—”

“Just call them, I’ve got something in mind.”

“Don’t tell me you want me to make-out with them or something.”

“Why, are you interested?”

He grimaces, sticking out his tongue. “I’d rather die.”

“Glad that’s not what I’m asking then.” You climb up to join him on the bed, sitting next to his body with your knee almost touching the side of his head. He shifts around, placing his head on your lap, and stares at you with tired eyes.

“Please don’t be too mean to me this time,” he begs and you snort, can’t believe that the mischievous Lee Donghyuck actually begs you to spare his life.

You card your fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch. It doesn’t last long though, his blissfulness, because on the next second, you say, “I want you to play that online game you always play with them but be terribly bad at it.”

“WHAT—“ He blurts out, sitting upright in such a rush that he almost knocks your heads together. “WHY—HOW COULD YOU—”

“Okay, breathe.”

“But this is too much!” He whines, his eyes widening in horror. “I have a status to uphold! You can’t do this to me!”

“Look, if it matters that much to you, I’ll give you permission to explain the situation to them.” You squeeze his hand, smiling understandingly at him. “You can tell them that you’re doing this because you’re granting my birthday wish.”

That manages to calm him down a little. “So I can let them know before the game? Oh, thank God—”

“No, a month after the game.”

“WHY ARE YOU SO EVIL—”

“Just do it already!” You shout out with a teasing grin strapped to your face. “You owe me at least that much after I let you come in my mouth.”

He gapes, eyes widening in shock. “That was for this?! I feel so tricked!”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about that before but—” You shake your head, waving the rest of your sentence away. “Come on, Haechannie, please, please, please~” You rub your hands together, batting your eyelashes again.

He grumbles, pushing you away. “Stop doing that aegyo on me, I’m not doing it!”

I’ll grant you five wishes for your birthday!” You can’t believe you’re saying this and you know you’re going to regret it later in the future but there’s still time and you hope he’s gonna forget about it when the time arrives. Hopefully.

Haechanlooks extremely tempted at that. “Any kind of wishes?”

You wince but nod eventually. “As long as it’s nothing sexual.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.” His smirk is back and he’s doing it so cockily that it sends shivers down your spine. Well, you can work over that problem later. “Fine, let’s go. Give me the phone.”

Haechan calls Jaemin an asswipe the first second he gets connected but by the sound of his voice coming from the other line, he’s not even bothered in the slightest. “Get off Jeno’s dick for once and log back into your account. Bring Jisung with you. I’ll be online in ten minutes and if I don’t see you there, I’ll text your mom the real reason why you didn’t show up on Christmas Day.” And he shuts off his phone with a click, throwing it randomly on his bed.

“Do boys normally make phone calls like that?” you ask, judging him.

He only shrugs, “Cooler ones do.”

“What happened during Christmas Day?”

“Jaemin got his ass drunk, went out with Jeno, and ended up having a threesome with a stripper.” He yawns, throwing himself back on the bed again. “I’m just glad they didn’t take Jisung with them. He’s been through a lot, that poor kid.” And when he sees you raising an eyebrow in question, he just waves you off. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

There’s a lot of shouting in the background when the game started, most of it coming from the other line of Haechan’s headphones that’s strapped to his ears. You lean close to him so you can hear Jeno shouting at him, “Yah! What the fuck, Lee Donghyuck?! I thought you said you were going left!”

“I am going left.”

“THAT’S NOT LEFT, YOU IDIOT!”

And you feel sorry for your boyfriend for degrading himself on purpose like this. “As you can see,” he says, wincing as his ears begin to ring from all the shouting. He mutes his headphone as he focuses back on you with his fingers angrily tapping on his keyboards. “This causes me physical pain. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am happy.” You peck him on his cheek. “You’re the best. I love you.”

Haechan snorts, looking away and tapping his headphone again to unmute his microphone. “Hey assholes, I just died again. Sorry about that.” More screaming and angry rantings can be heard from the other line and you savor the moment as long as you can. It’s not every day you can see your cocky boyfriend being bullied by his underlings.

It’s too fun watching him play with his face contorting like he’s in deep agony that you begin to lose track of time. You just realize how late it is when Haechan suddenly quits the game, puts his PC back to the sleeping mode, and turns his chair around to face you. You suddenly feel nervous as you sit on the edge of his bed, with him staring at you with a sinful smile creeping up his face, crossing his legs.

“Ten, nine, eight,” he says, tapping his fingers and you flinch in realization. “You better start running, Noona.” He walks over, chucking off his shirt on his way to you whilst continuing his countdown. His silver necklace glints under the fluorescent light of his room and he bends down, trapping you between his arms. “Because I’ll be in charge in three… two…”

You gulp, your heart thrumming loudly against your ribcages as you feel his lips hovering dangerously above yours.

“One.”

***

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misora-msby · 4 years ago

Text

goddess of love [chapter 32]

“come on. i’m going back in two days so let’s do something fun today!” koushi pouted up at you from where he laid on the floor beside your bed. you had rolled out a futon for him and it was where he had been staying for the past four days.

“but we went to skytree with akaashi yesterday... and the day before was new years! i’m so tired, kou!” you whined and pulled the duvet blanket over your head, “it’s so cold today too!”

koushi sat up and pulled the blanket off of you. “we can go anywhere you want, i just wanna go around tokyo! and i’ll buy dinner if we go out,” he insisted, his big brown eyes staring into yours which were still squinting from the sudden change in light.

“you know i can’t do that. i’m your host here so i should be buying-”

“exactly why i should treat you as thanks! c’mon, just this once? for me, y/n?”

hence why koushi was currently standing rather awkwardly in a bright pastel store while waiting for you to come out of the changing room.

he had no idea why you wanted to go to takeshita street, of all places. but you agreed to go to a restaurant he wanted to go to later, so koushi decided to just go along with you.

even so, the crowd was amazing. nothing like what one could find in sendai, let alone the karasuno shopping street. it was truly a hustle bustle of people moving along the narrow street of boutiques and occasional cafes. as he looked out of the glass doors to the shop you two were in, he quietly dreaded having to exit again, especially with your giant shopping bags.

perhaps he should get a harajuku crepe after this...

while he stood lost in thought, you walked out and quietly tapped his shoulder, “kou, how do i look?”

he turned and his eyes widened at the sight of you. while you did dress up a little when you two left your place, your look had completely changed, creating a perfect harajuku look with the crazy combination of bright and dark clothing which basically screamed “take a photo of me!”

but you looked good, is what koushi thought. even if it was a look he had never seen, and something he never thought much about, you looked good.

“judging by your reaction, it doesn’t look good, does it?” you sighed at his silence, “well, i just wanted to buy something like this once or twice before going back to sendai...”

“no, it looks good,” koushi grinned, “even if you look weird.”

you raised an eyebrow at that. “is that supposed to be a compliment?!”

“yup,” he gave a thumbs up, “get it.”

“hmm... well, if you say so,” you shrugged and returned to the changing room.

as you did so and went to pay at the cashier, koushi thought about what just happened for a moment. why did he feel weird about it? why did his words suddenly leave him when he saw you in such cute clothing? it couldn’t be...

“no,” he thought, “i’m just still a little sad about my breakup and i’m mixing up my emotions. i don’t feel anything for my best friend. especially not when we’ve been friends for... actually, how long has it been?”

“koushi! let’s go!” you sang while skipping up to him with your new bag of goods. “i’m getting hungry, should we go to that restaurant you wanted to go to?” you then asked.

your voice snapped the man out of his thoughts. “hm? yeah, sounds good to me!” he smiled back and exited the small store with you.

almost instantly, koushi felt your grip on his sleeve. he looked down at you quickly with a confused look, as if telepathically asking, “what’s wrong?”

“it’s just uh... there’s a lot of people. you’re taller than me so i’ll use you as a shield, and also so i don’t lose you!” you replied with a cheeky smile.

your best friend sighed and shook his head though he continued to walk through the crowd, “i can’t believe i’m being used!”

“hey hey. best friends help each other out, don’t they?” you laughed as you walked behind him.

koushi looked behind him and laughed as he saw the big smile on your face, “yeah. that sounds right,” though he couldn’t help but wonder why his heart felt tight.

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kryptid-quilz · 4 years ago

Text

Yandere Asahi

The thing is you know he's crazy. You aren't stupid, you recognized all the signs as they got more blatant. Him suddenly bumping into you too often when you go out. How he's always in the area when you'd hit him up. The look on his face he'd get when you playfully flirted with your homies or when guys hit on you. The way he'd look at you when he thought you weren't looking, or the way he always needed to be touching you in public,though he did a good job at playing it off as affectionate, but you were always weary of men too eager to get at you.

Hell, you only have him a chance, because he came off as shy giant of a man.

So you go for boba at you favorite tea spot. Then you go for crepes from this new cafe you've been meaning to check out. Then go to your favorite spot in the park....

You want to give him the benefit of the doubt, because this nice kind successful man seems to be absolutely smitten with you.

But Mama ain't raise no fool.

So you give it time. You go on dates. You talk on the phone all night. You go to his fashion shows and work galas.

He buys you jewelry, clothes, etc.

You pretend you don't notice the manic possessive look in his eyes each time.

Pretend each time a man who might have strayed your attention away from him disappears.

But alas work picks up, it's fashion week in Japan, then in Paris, Brazil, England. He can't get a moment to himself. You don't lt it bother you, you just live your life annd talk to him when you can, busy with your own small business.

But he takes the lack of response or quick conversations as you losing interest. He doesn't tell you though , he tries to fix it.

He messages you asking what plans you have, playing to doting interested boyfriend, trying to pin your location down to surprise you.he came back for a few days.

Only you dont' answer. He messagedc you around 7:30 PM . It's close to 1:00 AM. He's ready already pulling up to your apartment, when he finally get a message.

Sorry babe Honey, phone was in bag. Didn't hear it over the music

Music?

Kry took me to a new club that opened. We were getting ready and my phone was dead, and I forgot to turn it on after putting it on the charger.

He gets a picture suddenly.

It's of you in a darkly lit club, in a skin tight short red dress. You're hugged up with Kry and three men you've neve seen before.

By the low draw of your eyes he can tell you've had a few drinks.

All he can focus on thoough is the leer the dude on the left is giving you and how his hand rests n your hip.

He's pulling out of your apartment parking lot in seconds.

Looking back at the photo he can see the neon sign of the club in the background. He googles it and shows up next iin 30 mins. he enters the club and sees you dancing with your friend.

He's transfixed with you for a moment. you an Kry are grinding on each other. Your skin is glowing, you're smiling, you look so happy.

He missed seeing you like that.

but then the guy from the picture is coming up behind you, and his friend distracted Kry.

The man started dancing with you you were into it at first. Dancing good naturedly with him, seperately.

Until he drags you closer. His hands are resting on too low on your hips. He tries to kiss you and you jerk away. He grabs you harder, hands on your ass, and tries again. you smack him and jerk away.

People around you are looking now, he heas a mutimous look on his face, and you look livid.

You curse at him and storm off.

Asahi wants to go after you, but he cannt let any of tht stand now can he. He watches the stranger. Watches as he friend comes up looking furious angry. asking wtf he did? He just shrugs him off and walks away.

Asahi follows him. He's at the back exit when he slips through the door.

The man is tucked off in a dark corner of the alley, cigarette lit when Asahi approaches. He doesnt say anything, he just punches him in the face.

The asshole goes down and Asahi climbs on him and starts wailing on him. The mans face is bloody by the time someone opens the backdoor to the club.

Asahi jerks around, hand and face bloody, feral manic look in his eyes only to stop at the sight of...

You.

He panics.

"Babydoll it's not what you think" He tries to reason scrambling to his feet. You're getting closer, nt sying a word, looking at the prone man behind him.

He's scrambling with his words, face going into that emabarassed, nervous expression you've come to know so well.

You look at him blankly, "You did this?"

"I-I-I-" He can't form words as you get closer to him and cup his bloody face.

"Honey did this?" You ask sternly.

"I-I- He touched you." Asahi stammered out. "He touched you, upset you." The look on his face had changed from panicked to ominous. An expression you had come to know well despite his efforts to hide it.

You looked at the man. The man that kept tabs on you. Knew who you came in contacct with on a daily basis. That knew every single place you frequented before you started dating. The man that got extremely jealous and made every last man that hit on you diappear. the man that had been beating a man half to death in an alley, for groping and upsetting you.

The man who treated you like a Goddess. That held you when you were upset. Comorted you when you were sad. Cherished you The man that made love to you with a single minded determination to make you feel like the only woman in the world, but fucked you like he wanted you to know that he had ruined you for other men and you would never find someone to make your body feel the way he could.

The man that loved you.

The man that would kill for you.

All you had to do was ask.

"Let's go home, Honey."

He stood there stunned. "(Y/N') " Asahi stuttered, trying to turn his head to look back at the bloodied man on the groun, but you turned his head back to look at you.

You shook your head at him. "He tried to hurt me." Stilleto thumbs ran over bloodiy cheeks. "You protected me. Now-" You leaned up in high heels to kiss him. he clutched you to him as if he was afraid you'd try to leave him. When you pulled away from him, he looked as if he couldn't believe you were real.

"Take me home and I'll get you cleaned up, Honey."

As you two walked out of the alley, Asahi never noticed the knife you tucked back into your purse.

~fin~

I'll refine this later. It's not really a fic, just me getting my thoughts out for when I actually do write this. Whather it's a reader inset or OC fic has yet to be decided.

Reblog with thoughts and comments please! I like y'alls feedback!

#yandere asahi #yandere asahi azumane #asahi azumane #asahi haikyuu!#Asahi Azumane imagine #y/n #black y/n #Asahi x black y/n #asahi x black!reader #black fanfiction writers #haikyuu to the top #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! imagines #yandere haikyuu imagines #yandere imagines

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seso-dol · 2 years ago

Note

SesoさんのPCはカイラーとデートすれば、どこに行ったり何をしたり何を食べたりしますか？アーケードとか？(日本語がまだまだでご迷惑をおかけして申し訳ありません)

うーん、デート。

なにか食べるにしてもまあ学生二人だし、PCは毎週ベイリーに支払わなくてはならない身だし……どっちもそんなお金がないのでせいぜいアイスやクレープの屋台や適当なジャンクフードがいいとこかなーと思いますね……ゲーム内には無いですが。

カフェはもしかしたら行くかもしれないけど、カイラーが気後れしそう。おしゃれそうだし笑

アーケードも行くかもしれませんが、うちのPCは絶対ゲーム得意ではないので基本カイラーのプレイを眺める感じになるかもですね。競って盛り上がるタイプでもないですし。もしかしたらカイラーにゲームを教えてもらうかもしれません。

（余談ですがロビンとゲームしてる時は恐らく競います。昔から気心知れた仲ですし）

基本は健全な学生デートの範疇から外れないと思います。公園で一緒に散歩したり。

森へピクニックに……はやめよう。危ない。

ショッピングセンターで服とか雑貨とかのウィンドウショッピングもするかもしれませんが、これもカイラーが尻込みするかな？

PCと一緒なら大丈夫かな。

デートの最後にもしかしたらえっちなこともするかもですね。キスだけじゃ収まらないでしょうし笑

文章もおかしくないし日本語お上手ですよ……！わざわざありがとうございます！

◆

Hmmm, a date.

Even if we eat something, well, we are two students, and PC has to pay Bailey every week …… Neither of us has that kind of money, so I think ice cream, crepe stalls, and random junk food would be the best we could do. I don't have …… in the game.

I might go to the cafe, but I think Kyler would be put off by it. It looks like a trendy cafe. lol

May go to the arcade, but my PC is definitely not good at games, so I'll probably just watch Kylar play. I'm not the type to compete and get excited. I may ask Kylar to teach me how to play the game.

(As an aside, I probably compete with Robin when we play games. We've known each other for a long time.)

Basically, I think it is within the category of a healthy student date. We can take a walk together in the park.

Let's not go to the woods for a picnic ……. Dangerous.

We might do some window shopping at a shopping center for clothes and other things, but I wonder if Kylar would shy away from that, too.

I think it would be okay with PC.

At the end of the date, maybe we'll do something eh? I'm sure kissing won't be enough.

Your writing isn't crazy, and your Japanese is excellent. ……! Thank you for taking the trouble!

#murmur #reply to ask

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mxchellesworld · 4 years ago

Text

𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

***

The next few weeks went by in a breeze. It was now mid December and you were excited for the holiday season. You weren’t able to go with your family this year but Abbie had promised to make the time as festive as possible in your new home. Cat had scheduled time off to spend it with you and Spencer as the both of your jobs already gave you the days free.

They started to take you out to fancier places. You’d all dress up and sip on fine wine in restaurants. However you also had time with both of them individually. Spencer loved to take you to places where he could show off his knowledge. Dates to the museum or aquariums were your favorite. He would always talk your ear off and you would happily hang on to each word, asking him to further explain a certain topic.

Cat was more for artistic dates. She signed you guys up for painting classes. Each one of your masterpieces were now hanging up in your apartment, greeting you every time you got home. Or a ceramics class where she wasn’t too fond of how messy clay can get. One of your favorites was a wine tasting class. Spencer had to take you guys home after one too many glasses.

Slowly the emotional and physical bruises were disappearing. Neither of you had mentioned going back to the club. You didn’t mind though, it was probably for the best you take a break from that scene. You knew they still went, obviously being owners they needed to keep up appearances.

Just because you weren’t playing at the club didn’t mean you weren’t having fun at home. After your stunt of trying to be in control they spent their time showing you exactly who was in charge. Shocker: not you.

But just like their personalities had shifted your sex life had as well. Each time was filled with more of those kisses which made the butterflies in your tummy go crazy. More of your fingers interlaced and sharing each others breathes as you came down from your highs. More silent whispers of those three little words that made you all feel warm inside.

You had finally been able to have that long waited brunch with Penelope. She told you to go to her favorite cafe. It was bright pink with rainbows and unicorns littering every single corner.

You walked in and she called your name from a booth in the corner. She was excitedly waving you over. You had noticed her outfit was quite different than the one when you met her. The black corset was replaced by a knee length dress, it was pink and had colorful little shapes all over. She also donned chunky necklaces and had fluffy pins in her hair.

“Y/n I am so happy to see you again!” she said pulling you into a hug. Her embrace was extremely comforting. It felt like when Abbie hugged you, the same sisterly protectiveness they both radiated.

“Me too Penelope! How have you been? How was visiting your brother?” you questioned her as you sat down.

She explained her family situation and you silently listened to her. Your hand instinctively grabbed hers from across the table, trying to bring her a gentle form of comfort and understanding.

A waitress came by and asked what you’d like to order. You decided to get a lemon tea and a strawberry chocolate crepe. Penelope on the other hand ordered a unicorn blast frappe with a slice of chocolate cake.

You both ate and talked about any updates in your life. You had told her about how you were mainly going to be alone for the holidays so she had invited you to her house for the annual party she threw.

“Most people from the club go. We’re all really close and it’s fun to see each other in a different light ya know. I’m sure everyone would love to meet you,” she said taking a sip of her equally colorful drink.

“Sounds fun. I’ll think about it and let you know alright,” you said cutting into the crepe. Of course you wanted to go but you didn’t know if Cat and Spencer wanted to have you around their friends yet. You guys haven’t had the conversation about making everything official but it was obvious you guys were a step up from the past dynamic.

Once you guys had finished up eating she insisted on paying the bill. After a few minutes of bickering you relented and let her pay, “Fine, I’ll let you get it this one time but don’t be surprised if muffins suddenly show up at your house,” you said pointing a finger at her.

She gave you a hug goodbye and wished you a safe drive home. You did the same and promised to keep her updated about your stance on going to her party.

Arriving at your house, you saw you had a missed call from Spencer. You set your stuff down and threw yourself on your bed, having your phone on speaker as it rang.

Three rings later and you heard his voice float through the air, “Hey hey,” he said stressing the ‘y’.

You giggled as you answered, “Hey Spence, What’s got you in a good mood?”

“I am glad you asked Y/n/n. I just finished all my grading for my classes this term and suddenly have the afternoon free,” he said excitedly.

You were aching to see the smile you knew was on his face so you hit the button to switch the call to facetime. Like you had predicted he there was a smile on his face spread from cheek to cheek. His phone was propped up on his desk and you could see his whole face and torso. He was wearing one of his suit and sweater combos, which you thought were adorable.

“Very nice, any big plans for the night?” you asked holding the phone up high as you laid in bed. You noticed the top buttons on the flannel you had on were popped off, showing the red lacy bra you had on underneath. Spencer’s lack of response let you know what he was looking at.

“See something you like Sir?” you said in a teasing voice.

He cleared his throat, his eyes shifting back to look at your face, “Of course I do. Who were you trying to impress wearing that under your clothes? Do they already know you belong to someone else?”

You decided to play along and tease him. The inner brat in you was aching to be let out so you had to have some fun. You set your phone to be propped up by your pillows as you rested on your knees in front of it.

“Yeah and to who is that exactly? I don’t see a collar around my neck Spencie,” you said further unbuttoning the shirt, letting it hang loosely around your frame.

You saw him look to his side, probably making sure the door to his office was closed. “Is that what you need princess? Do you need me to get you a collar like a lost little puppy to show you and everyone else who that tight little cunt belongs to,” he gritted into the phone.

You shivered at his words. You had seen other people in the club with a choker type necklace around their necks. Many were simple with little designs while others had hoops at the front. Some people even tugged their partners around on a leash. You didn’t think you were there yet but the thought of everyone knowing who you belonged to because of a simple piece of leather around your neck was enticing.

This time your silence let him know he had gotten to you, “Keep striping,” he said smirking into the camera.

You pulled off the flannel and felt the hairs on your skin prick up from the chill in your room. “Keep going princess. I wanna see all of you.”

Hopping off the bed you put your fingers in the leggings you had on and tugged them down your legs. Spencer licked his lips at the sight of the lacy set in contrast to your skin. All your best aspects were on display. You crawled up towards the phone and saw Spencer shifting with his pants. You grabbed the phone again and went back to your previous position of laying down.

“Touch yourself for me princess,” you heard Spencer say.

You let your hand slide down between your legs grazing over the lace material, you could feel the slowly growing wet patch. A sigh left your lips at the sensation, your fingers teasing over your clothed slit.

“I wish you were here Sir,” you said looking into the phone. You could make out the motions of Spencer pumping his cock but the visual was under the frame, “Can I watch you?” you tried to say in your most convincing voice. Knowing about his soft spot for you, you’d get your way easily.

He scooted his chair back a little and angled his phone giving you a full view. You moaned at the sight of his long cock dripping with precum, the way he used his thumb to collect it over the tip just how he liked it.

“Fuck princess, I wish you were here too. I’d bend you right over the table and fuck you hard enough for everyone in this damn building to hear,” he groaned.

You let your fingers slip inside the fabric and gather some of your slick. You used it to rub quick circles on your clit before you inserted one of your fingers. You whined wishing it was one of his longer, fuller ones.

Your eyes raked over the phone screen, taking in the way his head fell back as he pleasured himself. The way the long veins on his hands popped out drove you wild.

You weren’t shy about hiding your moans. You let them float through the room and into the phone freely as you fingered yourself. Neither of you were saying much but the thought of each others presence was enough to have you guys panting.

“I’m so close Sir,” you moaned, “I wish I had your big cock inside me.”

“That’s it baby, fuck yourself while you think of me. Just wait until I get my hands on that sweet body again, I’m gonna fuck you till you cry princess,” he said breathlessly.

His words spurred you on and soon enough the knot in your belly was exploding. You took the fingers out from inside of you and quickly rubbed your clit. Your other hand had a hulk-like grip on your phone

“Cum with me Sir. Please,” you mewled out.

“I’m right there with you princess.”

You both let out sighs of pleasure. His a bit more quiet due to being on campus and the walls could only do so much. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open and gaze over everything on your phone. You tried to catch his facial expression down to the spurts of cum dripping down his hand.

You stayed spread out on your bed as you watched Spencer clean himself up with a pack of tissues on his desk. He then tucked his now soft cock into his pants and picked up the phone looking at you with a smile.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Hey pretty girl,” he said back.

You thought back to Penelope’s invitation and decided to bring it up to him, “I was at lunch with Pen today and she brought up a party she holds for the holidays. Maybe it’s dumb but do you and Cat wanna go together? Like with me I mean,” you asked laying on your side.

“Yeah I don’t see why not princess. We’ve been meaning to show you off to everyone at the lounge but we didn’t know if you were ready to go back,” he trailed off.

“I understand. Thank you guys for being so patient,” you said. Your heart felt soft at how they wanted to introduce you to their friends.

“Maybe by New Years or something we have a big event. You can even get me collar and all,” you said with a teasing giggle.

He playfully groaned, “God you wanna kill me don’t you.” You shared a laugh and looked at your phones in silence taking in each other. The same giddy feeling you get when you’re around them flowed through you.

The day of the party had came sooner than expected. Penelope was over the moon that you accepted her invitation. You showed up to Cat and Spencers apartment around 6pm to head over to Penelope’s house together. Your eyes raked over Cat’s frame as she opened the door.

She was wearing a deep red dress that went down to her knees. It had a lace trim and black belt around her waist. Her hair was done in curls which fell to her shoulders. Looking back her face, the dark lipstick she always wears was painted across her now smirking lips.

“Get a good look angel?” she said looking you up and down.

You had on a forrest green dress that fell to your mid-thigh. Your hair was in looser curls and you did minimal makeup.

“Always Mistress,” you said with a wink.

She brought you into a hug and gave you a small squeeze. Looking into the hallway you saw Spencer make his way over to where you stood. He had on one of his dark suits. The only spec of color on him was the red and green tie around his neck and the mix matched Christmas socks peeking from under his slacks.

Once she let you go. Spencer took his turn to wrap his arms around you. You inhaled the scent of his usual peppermint and Calvin Klein cologne. He rocked you back and forth then let go and looked you up and down.

“Both of you look absolutely beautiful tonight,” he said with a small smile.

“Spence come on you look as dashing as always,” you said dusting off his shoulder.

“Well shall we get going?” Cat said shrugging on her coat.

You and Spencer nodded then made your way down to the elevator. Cat’s fingers interlocked with yours as Spencer held his hand at the small of your back.

The car ride there was mostly quiet. You watched as the lit up streets passed you by. Storefronts with reefs and gigantic bows on top of their logos as decoration. Soon enough the driver stopped and they led you to Penelope’s door. You could hear the music from outside and you felt excited for what the night held.

Spencer rang the doorbell and after a minute Penelope whipped the door open. You could smell the booze and gingerbread radiating off of her.

“Hello my little sugar cookies, I’m so glad you could make it.” she said ushering you all in. You gathered she was already too intoxicated to question how you all showed up together. Of course you spoke too soon and she turned around pointing at the three of you.

“Wait how do you all know each other?” she questioned.

You were about to speak up and mention that you became friends after your first time at the club but Cat cut you off.

“Y/n is our girlfriend.”

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥!!! 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐡𝐡, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #cat adams x reader #cat adams smut #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #chellewrites

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imacrowcawcaw · 4 years ago

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Random but fluffy valzhang/fraleo headcanon:

They are both CRAZY about crêpes. It's an odd thing to have in common, but it's there.

Frank's grandmother always took him to this little cafe that made crêpes thinner than paper and stuffed with fluffiest vanilla crème in the world. Leo had only tried them last year, when Piper and he snuck out for a snack after school one day, but he was instantly hooked.

Once they discovered their mutual obsession with the French dessert, well... Let's just say that some crazy concoctions were made from that point on.

Crêpes stuffed with marshmallow peeps.

Crêpes dipped in melted caramel.

A horse sculpture made out of crêpes (Frank modelled for the design, Leo created the base structure with wires, and then they both put it together).

Avocado and crepe face masks.

Savory crêpes stuffed with shrimp ceviche and dumplimg filling.

A rather unfortunate attempt at making a shirt out of the confection ("but Frank, they're just so SOFT")

Their friends being surprised at their mutual obsession and commradery was large, to say the least. Almost as large as that humongous, world record breaking crepe they had made the week before by using a satelite dish Leo had rigged up like a frying pan.

Unlike what most people would assume, neither of them ever tired of their favorite food. Or each other. Once Frank had seen Leo in the midmorning light of the Hephaestus Cabin's meager kitchenette, flour dusting his sharp features and a string of syrup clinging to his curls -- his entire view changed. Leo was less annoying, less awkward, less imposing, more relatable, more friendly, and more attractive.

As for how Leo saw Frank, he refused to tell. Only said that his co-chef had very "big, manly muscles that he uses very delicately to turn the crêpes"

Maybe they moved in together in New Rome. Maybe they opened a crepe shop. Maybe they went back to Europe, on vacation this time, to take notes at the best of France's cafes. Maybe they cooked for each other in the morning. Maybe Frank hid a ring in a crepe that nearly killed Leo, and maybe Leo shoved a chocolate and strawberry crepe into his husband's face at their wedding.

Maybe these two goofballs REALLY loved crêpes, and each other.

#valzhang #fraleo #frank x leo #frank zhang x leo valdez #leo x frank #pjo #hoo #percy jackson series #headcanons #lulucrowproductions #fluff #crepes #leo valdez #frank zhang #this was funnnn #i just randomly did it in like 15 minutes but im proud #ive shipped valzhang since i read the books fucking years ago

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teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 5 years ago

Text

kissed by mist and can dew attitude

pairing: harry styles x reader (farmers market au)

warnings: awkwardness!! shy!baker!harry, mentions of the qu*rantine, drug use, harry's chest hair, giggly, sweet high sex, some dirty talk :) unprotected sex

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: harry is an idiot, and y/n is a bit of a tease

author’s note: you can read this for a little background to this au (but it’s not really necessary; i tend to over explain things anyway, so you can get a pretty good understanding just from this) literally no one asked for this, but market season is coming up again, and i missed writing about these two :( hope you enjoy! xx

masterlist

—

Harry is so tired of being cooped up in this house.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves staying home.

He is normally the introvert that puts all other introverts to shame. He loves staying at home, he loves hiding away after a stressful day at work, he goes out of his way to not talk to anyone while he’s out, and he very rarely ever goes out on the weekends. He loves just being able to stay at home, relax, and not worry about anyone bothering him.

But, at a certain point, it becomes too much; now, he just wants to get out, go for a walk, go to the grocery store, talk to someone other than Y/N, just do something, anything, other than staying at home. Yes, it’s for a good reason, and he doesn’t want to be responsible for the illness spreading, but it’s also straining on his mental, physical, and financial health.

He honestly wants to go back to work.

Since this entire situation started, Harry has only had a couple of shifts at The Sweet Spot, since, apparently, cafes are “essential businesses”, but the nutrition store next door isn’t (the world definitely has their priorities straight). Honestly, it was kind of nice; he didn’t have to schmooze any customers, since he only saw the delivery drivers. There was the occasional ignorant person who would come up to the doors and pull on them, despite the very clear signs saying that they were not open to the public, only to find them locked, and Harry very happily told them to go away.

However, Marty couldn’t afford to have him take up any more shifts, which he completely understands, so he’s been stuck home for weeks.

Needless to say, both he and Y/N have been getting a little stir crazy.

They tried to keep a somewhat healthy lifestyle in the beginning, hiking the nearby trails or walking at the park, but everything started to become too crowded. They even went cycling, but Harry proved to be even more of a klutz on a bike than on his own two feet, resulting in a bump on his head and a scraped elbow, which is still healing beneath a floral printed plaster.

Y/N’s had some failed experiments, leading to several four-hour kitchen clean-ups, and she also started a “Fermentation Station”, with dozens of glass jars filled with fermenting fruits and teas, the smell of yeast strong in the air. She was so proud of herself the first time she made carbonated water from things they already had in the house (“Look, Harry, it’s so convenient”). She ended up adding more and more things to her collection. They argued about it for a couple of days before she finally settled and moved her jars to the back porch after the kitchen started smelling like alcohol.

While Y/N has her experiments, Harry stress-bakes. He can’t even count how many loaves of bread, fruit pastries, cookies, and cakes he has made. He made crepes using sourdough starter. That’s how bored he’s been. He waited five whole days for his starter to mature, just to make four crepes between himself and Y/N.

But, there’s only so many things to do before you’ve completely run out of ideas.

On this particularly boring day, it’s two in the afternoon before they finally get out of bed, no thanks to their terrible sleep schedules, and they move onto the couch, which is officially broken in after how many hours they’ve spent on it. It’s sunny outside, bright and warm, the bright light beaming through the large bay windows in the living room, making staying inside even worse.

Y/N convinces him to paint his fingernails (and not just his toenails), and he happily indulges her. It’s nice feeling pampered for once, and whenever Y/N gets into her let’s-have-a-spa-day moods, she goes all out. While his toenails, painted with a pretty green color called Can Dew Attitude and a shimmery top coat on them, dried, she put some all-natural mud mask on his face, that bubbled and seeped into his skin.

“This is great for your pores,” she says as she puts a lukewarm cloth on his mask. “Not that you have bad skin. It’s better than mine, you ass.”

He just smiles, feeling the clay crack, and leans into her touch. She’s gentle, waiting until most of it is soft and pliable before she wipes it away. As she dries his face, with a towelette that smells like lavender and honey, his freshened skin, flushed and smooth, glows in the afternoon sun, his pretty eyes magnified behind a pair of thick, black framed glasses. Y/N sits across from him, her leg tucked up underneath her with his hand steady on her knee.

“It’s not gonna, like,” he pauses, glancing warily at his nails, “poison you or anything, right?”

“What?” She laughs, putting an oil around his cuticles. He leans forward, watching her carefully. He readjusts the headband, inadvertently pushing it back a little too far, until some curls slip onto his forehead. She hits the bottle of Kissed by Mist against her palm, the pale pink polish making a nice ticking sound. She starts on his nails, but not before making a comment about how cute his little pinkie is, which makes him flustered.

“It’s not gonna poison you when I, ya know, like… when I…”

He motions with his free hand, grouping his ring and middle fingers together and curling them, and he bites on his cheek, brows furrowed, trying to see any changes in her expression. He stops and shakes his head, a frail blush creeping up to his ears.

“By the way you’re reacting, ‘m assuming it’s not a thing,” he sighs.

“No, the polish will not poison me when you finger—“

“Shh,” he hushes her, pressing his hand against her lips. She pushes him away.

“Harry, we are the only ones here,” she says, finishing his right hand.

“Ya know what that mouth does to me,” he mutters.

“Really? You get turned on when I say, ‘finger me’?”

“Ya know I do,” he pouts, grappling for her. His hands twist the thick cotton of her jumper for only a second before she’s scooting away, swatting at him.

“No, H, your nails are still wet,” she says, and he groans, sinking back into the couch cushions.

“So bored.”

“Everyone is,” she says, filing down his left thumb nail.

“Wanna get high?”

He just wants to stop this feeling of absolute boredom. It’s better since Y/N is here with him, but it’s getting to a certain point where he’s willing to do just about anything to feel, well, anything.

One night, they tried her “prison wine”, which was just cranberry cocktail and yeast that fermented for a couple of days; it tasted worse than it sounds. It did, however, get them very drunk, and they woke up the next morning with pounding headaches, upset stomach, and purple stained lips. It was honestly the worst hangover he’s ever had, and he vowed to never try it again.

Getting stoned has then become a regular thing. On those horribly boring nights where they had absolutely nothing to do, where they’ve both been on the couch for hours, not being able to find the willpower to move, and on those nights where they just wanted to feel and simply be elsewhere, they found solace in the warming daze.

She grins.

“Sure, I think we still have some gummies,” she says, moving toward their “special” drawer in the side table.

“Only a half this time, lovie,” he says as she turns back, and she rolls her eyes.

“They were a lot stronger than the other ones,” she says, ripping the poorly stuck tape from the plastic packaging.

“I know,” he smiles, popping the candy in his mouth. She sits back down beside him, her leg thrown over his lap. He moves his hand dangerously close to her inner thigh, his fingers dancing along the length of her thigh until they reach the hem of her panties, tugging at the material until it snaps back. He’s so close to feeling her warmth, if only he moves just a little further, but she yanks his hand back, puts it on her knee, and gives him a smug little smile, continuing her work.

It takes an hour, or two more coats of nail polish, for the edibles to kick in, but when they do, Harry thinks he pissed himself. Forgetting about Y/N’s leg across his lap, he mistakes her warmth as pee, and he jerks up, jolting her. She looks up at him, blinking. There’s a strip of white polish on the side of his thumb.

“You are so good at this,” he says slowly. He honestly couldn’t imagine painting such tiny details if he were sober; he doesn’t know how she’s doing it stoned. She’s swaying and blinking slowly, but she looks focused, her brows furrowed.

“You’re good at this,” she mumbles.

“What?” He laughs.

“I don’t know,” she says. “It’s easy if I can concentrate.” Her eyes flicker up to his, a smirk curled over her lips.

“‘M I distracting you?” He raises a brow.

“I can feel your cock,” she says.

“Please, don’t say cock while you’re touching my cock,” he says, readjusting his growing bulge. She just chuckles and moves her foot along his boxers, where his semi and the top of his thighs connect. His hips twitch.

She barely caps the nail polish before she tosses it to the side and straddles him. He cups her hips, the fact that his nails are still wet long gone from both of their minds. She holds him by the neck, tilting his head back. Before she can capture his lips, he hesitates, his hands tracing along her thighs.

“Are you sure?”

Even though they’re practically living together at this point and have had sex plenty of times, he can’t help but ask her that same question every time. He’s never been one to feel secure in himself, and to have someone who is so open and willing to trust him, it’s overwhelming and intimidating sometimes.

“Of course, H,” she says, nibbling at his bottom lip, and then, he kisses her, fully and profoundly. He could just melt into her, his senses consumed by her warmth and love. He wouldn’t go as far as saying that the sex is better than when they’re sober. It’s great all the time, but there’s something about being high, with his skin buzzing and all of his senses heightened yet dulled at the same time, that makes the experience different. It’s different because he’s not worried about what he’s doing and saying; he’s focusing on the feeling, all of the sensations and simply her.

She tries to pull his shirt over his head, but it gets caught on the chain around his neck, and she tugs a little too hard, yanking it tightly around his throat.

“Easy, Y/N,” he laughs, holding onto her wrists. “I know you’re eager to get me naked, but I think you forget that I am also precious cargo.” Her lips sink into a pout, and he’s able to get the shirt off, throwing it off to the side, his headband going with it.

“You are precious,” she says, squishing his cheeks together. She cups the back of his neck and pecks his lips, gentle and loving. “Love these little baby hairs,” she says, running her hand over his skin, teasing and tugging on his chest hairs.

“They’re not baby hairs,” he says, pouting. He teases his hands along her hips, nails digging into her fleshy skin. “I am a man.”

“Oh, I know,” she chuckles, feeling his hips jerk up, pressing his swelling bulge into her. He wraps his arms around her waist, fingers tracing along the expanse of her back, and nestles his face into her chest. She shifts further up on his lap, fingers carding through his soft hair. Being far too lazy to take it off, he sucks on her breasts through her worn tee, her nipples hardening in his teeth. She pushes his boxers down and readjusts herself over him, rubbing her clothed pussy along his pulsing cock. She tugs her panties to the side, and he moans at the sudden warmth, her arousal coating him.

“You like that?” She asks breathily, rocking her hips faster. “Like feeling me drip onto your cock?”

“What if I just—” She teases the head of his cock, just barely pushing him inside before she pulls out. He can barely make a sound, his throat tightening when

“You like it when I tease your cock? Can feel you throbbing.” Her eyes roll back at the burning feeling of him just breaking past the barrier of her tightness. “So needy for me, bubba.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” he moans.

“Tell me, babe.” She holds him by the jaw, the pads of her fingers pressing perfectly into his pressure points, and he struggles for breath, making his head even lighter and obscured. He grins. “Tell me how much you love my pussy,” she says as she sinks fully onto him, her walls swallowing him easily.

“Fuck,” he moans, long and drawn out. His head falls onto the couch cushions, eyes closing to savor the feeling of her gripping him, but she pulls him back, forcing him to keep eye contact. “I love it; love you more, though,” he says.

“Say it,” she coos.

He blushes, heat spreading from his chest to the tip of his ears. He has never been vocal when it comes to sex; he always gets flustered and anxious when having a normal conversation, so he couldn’t even imagine how how awkward he would be while trying to talk dirty. It’s even more difficult because of how much she’s teasing him, slow and languid movements up and down his cock, his head just barely inside her before she comes back down, her hips grinding against his. She has this look in her hooded eyes, a lustful and greedy look, that’s telling him to give in to his instincts.

“Love y-your pussy, baby,” he moans.

“Yeah?” She starts riding him faster, her walls milking him. He groans. “Tell me how it feels, H.” She smirks, like an actual full blown, teasing smirk; she knows exactly how good she’s making him feel. She likes seeing him so flustered and babbly and incoherent.

“So fucking good, so warm and wet, perfect for me, lovie,” he says, and she grins, teeth bared. She kisses him, messily and harshly. His arms wrap tightly around her waist, stilling her hips, and a hand travels up the length of her spine, beginning at the curve of her bum, dipping momentarily beneath her large tee, before moving up to the back of her neck, pressing her lips tighter to his. He cradles her head while he moves onto the floor, but it’s not nearly as graceful as he hoped it would be. They crash to the ground.

“Oh, god,” she squeals, and her walls squeeze him painfully tight. Her nails dig into his back.

“Wha’s wrong?” He wipes the sweat from his forehead, fingers raking through his hair.

“No, no,” she stutters, hands moving onto the swell of his ass, keeping him still. “You’re so deep.”

He swears his arms are going to give out at the sound of her sweet little whisper, her voice weak and broken.

“H-how deep?”

He can’t help the break in his voice, and embarrassment floods him. He’s honestly trying his hardest to sound sexy, but he just sounds like an idiot.

“As deep as the ocean,” she mumbles, and she looks so positively fucked, out of it and dazed with hooded eyes; he honestly doesn't even think she realizes what she said because when he starts laughing, she gives him the cutest look, her brows furrowed, lips curled. “What?”

“Congrats,” he says, leaning back and onto his knees, his arms curled under her thighs, knees hooked over his arms. “You almost just made me go soft. Never done that before.”

“Shut up,” she says, grinding her hips into him. His thrusts start slow, deliberate, but the more she reacts to him, the more she bucks and grinds, the faster they become, until he can’t anymore, driving his cock in with fast, precise thrusts.

“You look so good like this,” he says, groping her breasts over her tee, nipples swollen and hard. They move with every thrust of his hips.

“Thanks, it’s the shirt,” she says breathily, a weak smile on her lips. “It covers up all my ugly parts.”

“Tha’s not what I meant,” he says, frowning. He leans over her, hands on either side of her head, and she lets out a weak moan as his cock moves deeper inside her. “Look beautiful all the time.” He genuinely looks sad as he brushes away a bead of sweat from her forehead. “You don’ have to take your shirt off when we have sex, not if you don’ want to. I take it off normally because I thought it would be more comfortable for you, and, le’s be honest, your tits are amazing, and I love seeing your curves and your—”

She suddenly pulls him in for a kiss, ceasing his ramblings. He’s cute when he gets all nervous; despite the fact he’s balls deep inside her, he’s still a worrier. It’s sweet that he’s concerned about how she’s feeling, even though he’s not fully present, with red cheeks and hooded eyes, chest heaving for breath. She raises her hips, grinding up into him, her swollen clit just barely grazing against his abdomen. She clenches around him at the sharp, sudden burst of pleasure.

She raises her feet from the floor, and he presses her knees to her chest. The sound of him fucking himself into her wet cunt fills the air, obscenities and pleasured whimpers joining. Not having the energy to kiss fully, he traces his lips along the curve of her jaw, tender and messy. His thrusts become sharper and deeper, knocking the breath from her lungs with every move of his hips.

“Oh, god, ‘m so fucking wet.” She laughs, feeling through her soaked curls to her throbbing clit. She really is; her arousal drips onto their thighs and into the carpet. Her head spins, burning pleasure building as he grinds into her and spreads her legs further apart.

“Fuckin’ hell—” He whines as she tightens around him, her fingers rubbing her little clit raw.

“‘M gonna come,” she moans, tugging at his hair. “C’mon, baby,” she coos, “want you to—” She swallows thickly, her breathing shallow. Her eyes roll back as she pinches her poor swollen clit, her thighs trembling. She meets his thrusts, eager for her impending orgasm. “Want you to come in me, wanna feel your cum in my—”

She lets out one loud moan, her body trembling and shuddering beneath him as pleasure rushes through her, leaving her limbs tingling and her mind muddled. They bask in the afterglow, their breaths in sync and deep, and he slumps onto her, wrapping his arms around her, tracing his hands over any piece of skin he can. He just wants to savor this feeling, the closeness, the warmth, the tenderness.

Her hand suddenly fishes over to the caramels that Harry made a couple days ago, which have been taunting her in a faux-crystal bowl on the coffee table for the past couple of minutes. The make-shift wax paper wrapper crinkles, and the sound makes him look up, his eyes still hooded, movements languid with exhaustion. He opens his mouth sleepily, and she rips the caramel in half. They both moan at the same time at the taste and fall into a fit of giggles. He moves to his side, his chest pressed to her back, softening cock pressed to the curve of her bum.

“Sorry,” he says, “messed up your art.” He flashes his nails, the pink paint still soft and pliable, littered with nicks and dents and imprints from the couch cushions. She hooks her fingers through his and tugs his hand down to her lips.

“Worth it.”

—

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #ellie writes #ellie writes fluff #ellie writes smut #gif not mine #credit to owner

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