#dunno why I’m announcing this instead of just. piss off. oh well doing that right now.

[pretentiouswreckingball]

Should I announced if I leave or should i just disappear?

[smoochkooks]

—hymne a l’amour (m.)

⟶ pairing: park jimin/reader

⟶ genre: smut, fluff, tiny bits of angst

⟶ word count: 5.5k

⟶ summary: it’s valentine’s day and your boyfriend decides to surprise you in more ways than one. and when you’re dating park jimin, cocky, smart and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of absolutely nothing.

⟶ warnings: dom!jimin, sub!reader, big dick!jimin, sir kink, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, ass slapping, dirty talk, use of degrading names, unprotected sex, mentions of jimin having a daddy kink, jimin being disgustingly sweet boyfriend, oc having at least 2 (two) mental breakdowns, cringy valentine’s day presents

this is eldorado valentine’s day special but it can be read as a standalone. enjoy! xx

Spending Valentine's Day in the city of Paris is like walking through the streets of Beijing and smelling the strong essence of soy sauce and chicken every time you take a breath.

Overwhelming.

(Or at least that's what you think is a good comparison, since you've never stood your foot in Beijing before.)

Paris seems to be on another level when it comes to celebrating Valentine's Day. It's because that's the city of love, someone may say, but no, my friend, it's not just that. French grammar isn't the only stupid thing about said country. Citizens are even weirder, in more ways than one. It's the Eiffel Tower and the smell of garlic that disguises it all when you first visit France.  

A week before February 14th, restaurants, cafees and grocery shops are all covered from head to toe in red hearts, chubby cupids, big teddy bears, various kinds of roses and, at the top of that – everywhere you focus your eyes on, you spot those huge inscriptions where words ‘love’ and ‘I love you’ are spelled in hundred different types of swirly fonts.

It's all too kitschy for your liking but tourists and locals don’t actually mind it even a bit. Once a year Paris turns into a set of the most cliché rom-com and no matter how irksome it might feel, you just have to survive this festival of boofonery.

You've always despised Valentine's Day with every fiber of your being (mostly because you hadn’t had anyone you could actually spend this day with) but your judgement took a sharp three-sixty turn when certain blond, charismatic man entered your life. Now, while you’re happily taken, a romantic dinner and a bouquet of red roses don’t sound that bad.  

But when you're dating someone like Park Jimin, a smart-ass, cocky and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of abosultely nothing.  

It's a little past ten, you’re laying in your king-size bed, a day before the actual Valentine's Day. Jimin informed you he was going to be late for dinner because of some extra paperwork he had to do in the office, so you patiently wait for him. Wrapped like a fancy Christmas gift in a new pair of flimsy, lacy lingerie you recently bought in Victoria’s Secret, all hidden underneath Jimin's baggy t-shirt (the combination of casual and slutty never fails to drive him crazy). The set is cute, in a baby pink colour. The last time you pulled a move like this, Jimin went hard, literally and lyrically.

Let's just say that Park Jimin (and his dick) likes high-quality underwear.

Dating Jimin has taught you a few things, one of them being that his sex drive is insatiable, so you always need to be prepared. That’s why you're now laying here, on your bed, freshly shaved and smelling of coconut, your precious pussy ready to be worshipped by Jimin's mouth.  

When you hear the familiar jingle of keys and the door to your apartment swings open, you squeal in excitement, grabbing your phone from the nightstand to scroll through it mindlessly so you don’t come across a girl whose only purpose in life is to get dicked down by her boyfriend.

(Which, right now, is your only purpose.)

“Babe, I’m home!”

You hear Jimin pulling off his shoes and coat, so you shout back, “I’m in the bedroom!”

He seemed to be in a good mood in the morning and if nothing's changed, you're positive about getting some action tonight. A well-deserved orgasm after work it's all you crave. You squeeze your thighs, and wait.

“God, I’m so fucking exhausted.” Jimin announces upon entering the room and as soon as those words leave his mouth, he collapses face down onto the bed. His lifeless corpse smells like sweat mixed with his usual cologne and you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

And that’s on getting railed by your boyfriend tonight.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs after a moment, voice laced with tiredness. He grunts and lifts himself up to place a chaste kiss on your lips. He tastes like bitter coffee and it makes you cringe, but you kiss him back nonetheless. He pulls off too fast for your liking and nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck instead. He cuddles into your side, mumbling something about you feeling warm.

In your head, you count. When was the last time you two had sex? Right, last Tuesday. Oh boy, what a night it was. Your ass still hurts a little while sitting on a chair, a byproduct of your boyfriend's palm landing smack after smack on your cheeks. Lesson learned: never smile too broadly to the waiter who blatantly flirsts with you. You're sure the whole appartment complex heard that night who makes you feel that good  

(As if they don’t already know.)

See? Park Jimin is unpredictable.

“How was work?’’ you decide to ask instead, clearing your thoughts from the inappropriate images of Jimin’s bare body pressed to yours as he fucked you that night. You thread your fingers through his blond locks just the way he likes, massaging his scalp.

He sighs, his words muffled when he speaks. “This new employee can’t do shit. I had to prepare everything before tomorrow's expedition by myself,” he says. “I have to tell Namjoon to fire his ass.”  

You falter your movements for a second. Right, the expedition. You completely forgot about it. Jimin's going to be out of town for the whole day, digging in the soil in some French village the name of you cannot pronounce.

It looks like your fancy lingerie has to wait for her big premiere a little longer.  

“What time are you planning to be back home?” you ask.

“Dunno. Probably late.” Jimin exhales loudly, his breath tickling your neck. His hand travels to your nude thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. You fight back a moan that threatens to spill from you mouth. You really need to get laid soon. “We set off at 6am.” he adds, tracing circles on your bare skin. Your smile drops.

So the plans for morning sex on Valentine's Day stay where they belong. In your dreams.  

“You're so soft. And you smell like coconuts. I could stay like this forever.” Jimin mumbles, circling your waist with his arms and pulling you even closer to him.  

You sigh, basking in this situation just for a while, stroking Jimin's hair and listening to his steady breathing until he eventually falls asleep. Still fully clothed, still with his hand on your thigh. Carefully, so you don’t wake him up, you get up from the bed to take off your underwear. You do feel a little disappointed, but it's okay.  

When you settle yourself on the bed next to Jimin again, your back facing him, a strong arm pulls you flush to his body. You hear him sighing with relief, and it makes you smile to yourself.  

Lights off, everything can wait for tomorrow.

In the morning, just like expected, you wake up alone. There's no sight of Jimin, his side of the bed empty and cold. For your dismay, there’s no bouquet of red roses waiting for you in the kitchen, no box of chocolates or a small, cheesy note with your name written on it. Not even a short “Happy Valentine's Day, baby!” text on your phone. Absolutely nothing.  

You tells yourself it’s fine. Maybe Jimin didn’t have enough time, maybe he was too occupied with expedition to prepare something special, maybe the big surprise is yet to come. However, you can’t quite shake off the feeling that something do seem odd and it makes you anxious. Leaving without a single text is not Jimin's style. Not when it's your first Valentine's Day spend together.

You probably shouldn’t worry that much. It's not a big deal, after all you hate those types of annual holidays and Jimin knows it. Yet something about the whole situation makes you uncontrollably uneasy. You have never been like this, vulnerable and sheepish. You hate Park Jimin for turning you into such a softie.

Walking through the streets of Paris makes you feel nauseous. You look at all the happy couples sucking each others’ faces for everyone to see and fight an urge to gag. Someone shouts “Love is in the air!” and you almost throw up. Everytime you see someone holding heart-shaped balloons or flowers, you whip your head in other direction. It's nothing, you keep reminding yourself. A stupid holiday that doesn’t mean anything at all.

But the actual nail to the coffin happens to be the atmosphere in Eldorado headquarters. It drives you absolutely crazy.

It's 12am and still no word from Jimin. You checked: this bastard was online one hour ago, so he just doesn’t want to talk to you. Fine, mister. If this is how you wanna play, try sucking your dick by yourself, beacuse I’m not getting near it anytime soon, you think to yourself, filled with rage.

Yeri wiggles her pretty eyebrows at you and asks about your plans for tonight. You fake a giggle, saying that Jimin will probably surprise you with something when he gets back from his expedition. The words taste bitter on your tongue, especially when the high hopes you had simply melted away this morning. Your friend then starts babbling about the restaurant she's going to with Jungkook after work and you listen to her rant with forced smile on your face the whole time.

Meanwhile, a few meters away from you Hoseok is giggling like a teenager, typing something on his phone, without a doubt (sex)texting his girlfriend. She's out of town and you’re more than sure Hoseok hasn't gone to bathroom ten minutes ago just to take a piss. Even Namjoon is in a pleasant mood today, humming some old ABBA hits under his breath. Yesterday he couldn’t shut up about his date with a girl who’s also his new neighbour. He met her when she came by to give him homemade croissants. Ironically, that sounds a lot like some kdrama lovestory to you, and Namjoon hates kdramas.

During lunch time, you scroll through your Instagram and almost slam your phone on the wall. There's a new photo uploaded on Kim Seokjin's account.  

kimseokjin92: Celebrating Valentine's Day on Maldives w @minsuga #couplegoals #boyfriends #valentinesday #loveislove

They are on fucking Maldives. Fucking Maldives! You grit your teeth. It's fine. Completely fine.

But the absolute peek, the moment when you almost break down into tears and curl yourself into a ball of misery, comes in the person of Jeon Jungkook. He enters the office with a bouquet of the most beautiful red roses you have ever seen, a huge grin plastered on his stupid face.

Your heart clenches in your chest. Park Jimin could never.  

Jungkook hands Yeri the flowers and she laughs, slapping his chest when he starts declaiming Romeo's monologue from the Shakespeare’s tragedy. He then kisses his girlfriend deeply and lovingly, making her cheeks flush in crimson. Hoseok coos at them, Namjoon following him. You swear you saw Jungkook's tongue in the process of said heavy make out session.  

(Jealously is an awful emotion, you've decided a long time ago.)

An hour later, the bouquet stands proudly on Yeri’s desk and you stare at it with melancholy. You briefly avert your gaze to Jimin's desk and the memories flash before your eyes. The same desk he had you bent over, skirt bunched around your waist and cock drilling into your pussy, when you both stayed together at work after hours not so long ago.  

You mentally slap yourself. Get your shit together, woman. It's not like he broke up with you. It's just some stupid holiday. It's nothing.

“Something's wrong?’’ Yeri asks you with genuine concern written on her face.  

You swallow, forcing yourself to smile. “No, everything's fine. Just a headache.”  

She eyes you suspiciously. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” you say. Even though your friend doesn’t look convinced, she eventually stops bothering you.

It's all good. My boyfriend forgot about our first Valentine's Day together but everything's alright. No worries, you want to say instead.  

Later that day, when you exit the elevator and walk straight to your apartment, a strange smell of something burning fills your nostrils. Is that food? A real fire? No, that's definitely some meat that stayed too long in the oven.

The closer you are, the smell becomes stronger, like it’s actually coming from your apartment. You furrow your eyebrows.

“What the fuck.” you mutter to yourself.  

When you open the door, your jaw falls slack, eyes wide like saucers.

Never, in your entire life, had you thought  you would see Park Jimin, your own dearest boyfriend, popping out from the kitchen with his hair disheveled, sweat coating his forehead, wearing a black suit underneath the most ridiculous apron you have ever seen: pink with a big-ass ‘mr good lookin is cookin' written in the middle.  

(Can someone remind you why are you dating him? Oh, thank God he isn’t naked underneath.)

He looks completely lost when he spots you, waving awkwardly in your direction. It's probably the first time he touched something in the kitchen that isn’t coffee machine. He’s so flustered that you almost forget he nearly turned your apartment into ashes.

“Hi, babe.” he says sheepishly.

It takes all the willpower you hold not to spit a lung watching your boyfriend who absolutely hates cooking, trying to look unimpressed by the smell of burnt food. He does a pretty poor job though, an apron not helping in the situation.

“Happy Valentine's Day!’’ he exclaims perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, approaching you and planting a kiss on your cheek. And after that, you burst into hysterical laughter.  

(Seriously, you almost lose your own breath three times.)

Jimin looks terrified but most importantly – put out. You’re probably hurting his enormous, almost the size of Russia pride right now. (Not your fault Jimin has the biggest praise kink on the planet.)  

“Why are you laughing? Is it because of the chicken? Fine, I can’t cook for shit but I tried, okay? I didn’t have enough time and it was the middle of the night in Korea so I couldn’t just facetime my mum for advice and-”

You interrupt his rambling with a searing kiss, effectively shutting him up. He falters for a moment but quickly catches up, pulling you closer to him, placing his hands on your waist and deepening the kiss.  

But then, when his about to trail kisses down your throat, you hit his arm.

“What was that for?!” Jimin yelps, looking at you with astonishment.

“I thought you fucking forgot about the Valentine’s Day!” you yell, slapping his chest. “Why didn't you tell me about this?!”

“Because the definition of surprise says you can’t reveal it sooner?” he reponds in a mocking tone.

“Oh, shut up.” you grumble and pull him in for another kiss. You could feel him smiling into it, cheekily biting onto your lower lip. He places a loving peck on your forehead and brushes the strands of your hair behind your ears. There's so much affection in his eyes you could melt into a puddle right here and there.

“I’m sorry. Jungkook told me you looked upset the whole day.” he whispers.

“I wasn't!” you protest.

“He told me you almost cried when he gave Yeri a bouquet of red roses.”  

This stupid brat.

You look up at Jimin. “Fine. I was mad. And sad. Everyone was having the time of their lives and here I was, on a verge of mental breakdown because my idiot of a boyfriend supposedly forgot about the Valentine's Day.” you say, crossing your arms over chest with a pout.  

Jimin rolls his eyes and takes your hand, leading you to the living room, where a bottle of (your absolute favourite) wine is standing on the table, along with candles and, yes, red roses. It's too cheesy and straight from the cringy rom-coms but you don't mind, because it's Jimin and he poured his heart into this and it's all that matters.

When he approaches you again, he isn’t wearing that stupid apron and you blush at how perfect he looks, almost painfully handsome. His hair needs a cut so it’s pushed back from his forehead. God reincarnated in the form of a smart, cocky archeologist who happens to be your boyfriend.

You're, well, in your black jeans and baby blue sweater and you probably stink, but Jimin assures you with his loving touches he doesn’t mind, never will. He always does that, looking at you with those sparkling eyes which say you're the most beautiful thing in the world for him.

And it doesn't matter how many times you scold him throughout the day, how many banters you have over silly things, because at the end of the day, in each others’ embraces, it feels like home for the both of you.

“Since the chicken chickened out,” Jimin says nonchalantly, filling your glasses with red wine. “We can always get drunk and watch some old romantic movies.”

You smirk. “You cried the last time when we watched ‘When Harry met Sally’.”  

Jimin clicks his tongue. “Don't test my patience, sweetheart or you won't get the presents.” he warns.

You raise your eyebrows. You hope one of them comes in the form of his dick. Suddenly, you’re reminded of your lingerie set, so you make a mental note to wear it after the shower. “Can I see those presents now?” you ask, looking at Jimin with pleading eyes. It's exactly three seconds till he softens.  

“Fine.” he mutters and heads to the bedroom.

When he comes back, he’s not alone. Literally not alone, because he's caring the most hilarious Valentine’s present you could ever think of. A giant, white teddy bear, almost in the size of him, heart-shaped balloons attached to his right paw.

“This is,” Jimin whips his head to read the name on the bear's chest. “Ted.”  

You blink. “You bought me a teddy bear named Ted?”  

Jimin opens his mouth to say some witty comment but he stops when he hears you sob. “Baby, sweetheart, what's wrong?” He kneels in front of you, the bear long forgotten on the floor. You burst into tears and Jimin tries to calm you down, rubbing soothing circles on your thighs.

Once you eventually stop crying and regain your normal breathing, you wipe your tear-strained cheeks and look down at your very much worried boyfriend. “You are an idiot, Park Jimin. A fucking idiot. That teddy bear is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen and I should humiliate you for giving me that but...” You take a deep breath. “But I can’t. Because I fucking love you, dumbass.”

The corners of Jimin lips lift in amusement but you’re clearly not done with your little speech, so he waits until you finish. “You organized the most cliché date ever. You read all the Grey's books. You can’t cook for shit and this stupid apron you wore? God have mercy,” You visibly cringe. “You declaim Greek philosophers when you shower. Fuck, you persuaded me to do teacher-student roleplay and I kept calling you daddy during the whole thing because you asked me to. You are everything I despise but at the same time I love you so much,” you say, tears once again welling in your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m telling you this now, even though I've realised this a long time ago.”

Jimin’s silent, so unlike him, declaring his emotions with a huge grin this time. He stands up and picks your body into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you both to your bedroom. He places you gingerly onto the mattress, hovering over your figure.

(Your fancy lingerie can wait for another occasion.)

“I love you too, ___.” he says, staring into your eyes. “You’re making me the happiest man in this world.”  

You roll your eyes, however there’s no use for that because your cheeks are already tainted red. “Oh, stop being such a sap.”  

He smirks. “You love when I’m like this.”  

“That is, in fact, not true.”  

You’re lying and he knows it, but he always lets you banter with him like this anyway.  

“Then what do you want me to be today?” he asks, his hands travel down to your zipper, then pull down your jeans. “Sweet? Loving?” He helps you take off your sweater and you’re left with nothing on beside your underwear. “Or do you want me to be rough? Push you around and fuck you stupid?” You gulp, your attitude successfully shut down. “Come on, use your words.”  

Somehow, you manage to gain your composure. “Want you to take off your clothes first.”  

Jimin chuckles, lowly and with a promise of more to come if you’re patient and behaving well, according to his commands. “You’re not the one to give orders here, baby.” he retorts. Then, he’s gripping your knees, pulling your legs apart and putting your pussy on full display for him.  

There’s already a dark, wet patch forming on your grey panties and he tsks disapprovingly. “You’re wet and I haven’t even touched you yet. You want it that much, huh?”  

You nod. “Please, touch me.”  

“Try again.”  

So he’s in that mood today. You’ve explored a fair share of kinks with Jimin so far and what you know for sure is that he always takes the leading role in bed. He likes to dominate, be the one in charge, railing you into the mattress until you’re crying out so loud your neighbours are banging on your walls.  

You slip into your role naturally, your usual confident behaviour gone and replaced with timidity. He relishes in seeing you like this, helpless and vulnerable, a stark contrast to how you act on daily basis.  

Jimin pins you with his dark stare and you give in. ‘”Yes, sir.”  

“Good girl.”  

He rewards you with a feather-like touch of his fingers on your pussy. He finds your clit with ease, rubbing it with practiced strokes until more juices drip down from your hole, wetting your panties embarrassingly fast. Your legs shake with want for more, to feel him sink his digits knuckle-deep into your cunt and finger you like he did that one time in a bathroom on your flight to Japan.  

He doesn’t seem the slightest bothered with your state, ignoring your pleading eyes and wanton moans. He hasn’t even taken off your underwear yet and you’re already on the verge of an orgasm.  

Jimin knows your body inside and out, probably better than you do, so it doesn’t come as a surprise to you that he can sense when you’re about to climax. He withdraws his hand from your center seconds before your release. You can’t help but huff with annoyance.

“Something's wrong, babygirl?” he asks, saccharine-sweet and annoyingly innocent.  

Your retort dies on your tongue the moment he decides to unbutton his white dress shirt. You’re too distracted with delicious lines of his sculpted chest to complain about your denied pleasure anymore. Your hands itch to touch him but you stay immobile, devouring him with your eyes instead.  

Jimin notices you're staring and smirks. “Like what you see?”  

You nod. “Yes, sir.”  

He then stands up from the bed and motions for you to come closer. You oblige without an ounce of confusion, crawling until you’re sitting on your heels in front of him. It’s a rather humiliating position but you can’t help but feel the rush of adrenaline in your veins when he cups your chin and tilts your head up.  

“Take off my pants.”  

You rush to obey, unbuckling his belt with shaky hands because you know what’s coming next once his pants are pulled down. He’s already hard, the prominent bulge of his cock straining in his briefs.  

“Now my underwear.”  

You nearly moan out loud when his cock slaps his abdomen, mouth salivating to take him in deep but you don’t dare touch him without a directed instruction. He makes sure your eyes are on him and starts stroking himself, spreading the precum all over his length, hissing when his thumb rubs the sensitive head of his cock.  

Jimin groans, low and throaty, and you whimper quietly in response. “What, baby? You want my cock that much?” he asks, his left palm cupping your cheek. You whisper a meek “Please” and he chuckles. “Come on then. Show me what that slutty mouth of yours can do. Open up.”  

Your lips part on command and you nearly moan when he guides his cock into your mouth. You’ve sucked Jimin's dick enough times to know what he likes, what brings him to the edge quicker than hitting the back of your throat. You lick the tip of his cock, eyes darting to check his reaction and, just as you expected, his features twist in pleasure.  

You relish in a minute or two of the control you have over him before he grows bored with your teasing and decides to fuck your mouth instead. But for now, you make sure to have him suffer a little for that stunt he pulled earlier when he didn’t make you come.  

You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks for extra stimulation. Your hands reach to fondle his balls and you smirk around his cock when you hear a groan leave Jimin's mouth. “Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek. You lean into his touch, moaning at the praise. “My pretty slut.”  

The first hit on the back of your throat makes you gag because fuck, is he big. The only thing bigger than Jimin's ego seems to be his dick, apparently. When he threads fis fingers through your hair you know what’s about to come; jaw relaxed, saliva dripping down from the corners of your mouth, you’re ready to be ruined.  

He withdraws, giving you exactly five seconds to breathe and then pushes forcefully inside. Your mind is filled with mental images of him giving your pussy the same treatment later. You would whimper at the thought, if your mouth wasn’t stuffed full of dick. Instead, you give your best, swallowing every inch of him obediently.  

“That’s it,” he rasps, clamping one hand on the back of your neck for better leverage. “You’re doing so good, baby.” When he nudges the back of your throat again, you feel him throb. He pulls away from the warmth of your mouth seconds later, panting heavily. He falls back onto the bed and pats his thighs. “Come here.”  

You scoot closer to him and crawl onto his lap. He smiles at you from below, pulling you in for a kiss. The hands he previously gripped your waist with now travel upwards, unhooking your bra. Your hips unconsciously move, pussy gliding along the flexed muscles of his thigh.  

Jimin notices your desperate attempt at getting some friction on your most sensitive parts and helps you rock your hips. He moves your panties to the side and you moan, felling the delicious pressure on your bare center. He’s watching with amusement as you’re falling apart on his thigh, thumb reaching to rub your clit. You cry out, climaxing so hard you’re almost seeing stars behind your closed eyelids.

He keeps helping you ride out your high until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation. “Did you like it?” he then asks, urging you to look at him. “You were so desperate to come, sweetheart. Fucking yourself on my thigh like a bitch in heat,” You whine instead of responding, earning a harsh smack on your ass. “Use your words.”  

Another slap lands on your cheek and you mewl. “Yes, I loved it, sir.”  

He chuckles, maneuvering your body so you’re now positioned over his cock. He gives your ass a firm squeeze and you whimper, arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs despite orgasming just minutes ago. “Ride me, baby.” he says.  

You hurry to obey, guiding his cock inside you. It's a tight fit but your wetness makes it smoother to push him deeper. “So big,” you mumble, bottoming out. You know damn well Jimin likes to be praised and if the smirk that stretches on his lips is anything to go by, he enjoys what you just said. “That feels so good, sir.” You start moving your hips languidly.  

“Yeah?” Jimin quips, hands gripping your waist so tightly it almost makes the skin bruise. “Then show me what a good girl you are for me. Fuck, look at you. You’re so hot.” His palms cup your breasts, thumbs stroking your nipples.  

You keen at the praise and quicken your pace. Your thighs start to burn but you ignore that, bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick like there’s no tomorrow. The room is filled with lewd noises, skin slapping on skin. Jimin looks down, staring at his cock coated in your juices as it disappears inside your hole. He curses at the sight.  

Your legs start to shake, huffs leaving your lips. “Sir–please,” you whine, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.  

“What do you need, babygirl?” he asks, pinching your nipples. You squeal, your pace losing its previous rhythm.  

“I’m so close.” you stammer. “Please–touch me.”  

“Where you do you want me to touch you, baby?” He ignores your whimpers, the way your pussy keeps squeezing his cock in a vice grip. “Here?” He touches your tits again and you shake your head violently. “Or here–” His fingers find your clit and you cry out loudly. You feel so full, his cock hits your cervix every time you drop down onto him.

“Yes, yes,” you chant, mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut. You probably look right now like a professional porn star but you couldn’t care less, not when you’re so close to the climax. “Sir–fuckfuckfuck, please!”

“There you go,” Jimin coos, circling your sensitive bud with his thumb. “Come for me, baby.”  

You’re gushing around his dick, arousal leaking out of your hole and coating his thighs with your release. Your upper body gives out and you collapse onto Jimin, your cunt pulsing from the intense pleasure you’ve just experienced.  

“Oh god,” you mumble. “I just saw the answer to the whole universe.”  

You feel Jimin's chest shaking with laughter and when you look up, you find him grinning at you. “That good?”  

“That good.” you confirm, sighing tiredly.  

“Are you okay?” You hear him asking. No matter how much he likes to push you around and fuck until you’re seeing stars, he always makes sure if you’re feeling comfortable to continue.  

You spare him a nod. “You know I can handle it,” you say, lifting yourself up. “I’m a tough girl, right?” Despite the oversensitivity, you start rocking your hips again. “M-made for you.”

Jimin smirks. “Yeah, made for me,” he confirms and slaps your ass. Your pussy flatters around his cock. “Not like this,” he mutters and turns you onto your back with one, swift motion. “Much better.”  

You pout. “You didn’t like it when I was riding your cock, sir?” You’re bluffing, but a girl can her fun too.  

He clicks his tongue, guiding his cock through your folds again. “Oh, baby, I was enjoying it very much,” he says, picking up his speed. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer. “But now I want it harder.”  

He fucks you just like he likes the most; fast and rough, unforgiving. He leans down for a messy kiss that’s all teeth tongue and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees his saliva dripping down your chin.  

(He decides right here and there that he might wanna explore his newfound fantasy soon.)

Soon you’re feeling the coil in your stomach tightening for the second time, embarrassingly quickly so. You moan, cunt squeezing around his dick. “Again?” Jimin asks, voice laced with both mirth and disbelief. Tears well in your eyes and you give him a nod. “Such a fucking slut.” he spits, slithering himself into you even faster than before.

Your third and final orgasm is so powerful and sudden, it nearly makes you black out. Jimin curses, fucking you through it. “Kiss me,” you whimper deliriously and he obliges, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. “I love you.” you whisper into his lips and that’s what sends him over the edge.

“I love you, I love you–fuck.” he groans and spills himself inside, coating your pussy with his seed.

He collapses next you, chest heaving with every exhale. Your legs feel like jelly and you know you’ll have trouble walking tomorrow. Just when you’re about to tell Jimin to call in sick and spend the whole day in bed instead, he suddenly sits up.

“Wait, I forgot I have another present for us.” he says, rushing to pick something up from underneath the bed.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Jimin, I swear to God, if you bought us matching t-shirts–”

He grins like a child, showing you two white pillows, the most basic ones you could ever think of, with ‘his side’ and ‘her side' written on them. It's cringy and ridiculous and you fight an urge to punch him, but you don't.  

Because it's Jimin and you will never complain about it.

Because you love him. And that's all that matters.

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

One time when Deacon and I went to a gas station or something and he said "great, I've been holding it in for mile" or something like that. Now I'm wondering how exchanges like this go when companions need a bathroom break. Peeing is easier since they're guys but toilets aren't always available so they'd probably have to pop a squat in the wastes lol. I bet it's super awkward to tell sole they "gotta go" when they're newly recruited and don't know each other very well 😂(1/2)

I can already imagine sole just fucking with them by saying dumb shit like "don't forget to wipe" or "make sure you give it a few shakes before we go"😂. (I know, I'm immature😁) Anyway how do newly recruited companions(+Preston) handle bathroom situations out in the wastes? Bonus if sole messes with them a bit while they just kinda stand around on look out and waits for him to finish his business lmfao😭. (2/2)end

??? idk if i don’t play fallout enough but i never noticed these little dialogues ?? 😭 i’ve always wondered how the characters in fallout use the restroom cs god knows that they can’t hold that bitch in all day. i just wrote this based off of my opinion. thank you for requesting! i hope you don’t mind that i kept it somewhat general. ❤️

i removed nick from this scenario because i doubt he’s physically able to use the restroom anyway.

-

Danse:

danse is very, very embarrassed to use the restroom anywhere besides the prydwen, the cambridge police station, or the boston airport. he just thinks having his pants down in the middle of a forest or an abandoned restroom leaves him vulnerable to many hazards that could occur at any given second, so he’d absolutely refuse to use the restroom until the next safest destination. he’d try his very best to hold his business in, refraining from showing any signs of discomfort so sole wouldn’t question him. if he really couldn’t hold it in any longer, he’d shyly call out for sole who would divert their attention immediately towards their now blushing companion. “yes, paladin?” they would watch as his eyes traveled everywhere but at them. “i, uh, need to use the restroom.” sole would let out a small, “oh”, before looking around and pointing at a red rocket station nearby. “cmon, lets get moving. don’t want you to piss your pants on me halfway through the mission.” he would grumble, his face growing more crimson at soles comment, “that was highly unnecessary, soldier.” they would only let out a hearty chuckle as they made their way towards red rocket. he’d quickly do his business and be on his way out, avoiding eye contact with sole for a few moments. they would laugh at his behavior, only causing the paladin to blush more. maybe he shouldn’t have left cambridge.

Deacon:

deacon is the opposite of danse. he’s far from embarrassed with using the restroom, knowing that everyone needs to do their business. it was a part of human nature after all, so why would he be ashamed? besides, let’s face it, he’d probably fart in sole’s face for all we fucking know. if they made a stop at somewhere with a restroom, he’d probably tell sole that he was gonna go take a bathroom break and make some stupid exaggerated fart noises with his mouth while he was in the restroom. if they were no where near a restroom and he couldn’t hold it in any longer, he’d simply point to the bushes nearby and notify sole that he was gonna drop a big one as a joke. they’d laugh, nudging him on the side. “make sure to wipe, im sure there’s some stray leaves there to assist you.” they teased, watching him head over to the bushes. he’d push his glasses up before shrugging playfully, “i dunno charmer, last time i did that, got a huge rash on my ass that wouldn’t go away. carrington had to check on it every week to make sure it didn’t get worse.” sole rolled their eyes, facing forward so they can keep watch. they didn’t know if it was a lie or truth but then again, they wouldn’t be surprised if it was either.

Hancock:

hancock’s probably also not embarrassed with using the restroom. maybe he’d be more conscious if he was dropping a number 2, but a number 1 was nothing to him. he’d prefer to use the restroom in privacy but he also wouldn’t really give a fuck using it in the wilderness if there was no other option. hell, he couldn’t care less if someone snapped a photo of him shitting in a hole. if he were to approach sole about it in the middle of nowhere, he’d keep it calm and casual, simply telling them he needed to go take a piss. sole would nod at him with a teasing smirk, “make sure to give it a few shakes before you go. we wouldn’t want anything leaking down there.” hancock laughed before winking at sole. “that’s not the only thing that leaks through there.” sole would blush, not used to his flirtatious and provacative comments yet but would friskily shove him further into the forest with a small chuckle. “go before i change my mind about keeping watch and let the yao guai’s eat you themselves.” he’d still keep that stupid smile on his face as he walked in deeper. “love the enthusiasm, sister/brother.”

Maccready:

he hates having sole around whenever he needs the restroom, whether in the wilderness or in a more secure area. he knows it’s a normal thing to do to get through the day but he can’t help but feel shy whenever he needs it. the thought of someone being around while he’s doing his business doesnt sit right with him, so majority of the day, he’ll either suck it up or do it when he knows sole will be distracted for a bit or sleeping. he probably would never bring it up himself, even if he really needed it. eventually, they would notice his discomfort while they were in the middle of no where and ask if he’s okay. “i’m fine. just need the restroom but i can wait.” he’d lie, trying to act as normal as he possibly could. “you can go, you know. i won’t judge,” he watched as sole raised a brow, an amused smile playing on their face, “we smell like shit already, i don’t need you adding onto it.” maccready would blush profusely and cross his arms like a child throwing a tantrum, “shut up, you’re not helping.” they would shrug and continue walking ahead of him, “fine. suit yourself, i doubt there’s a bathroom around. we’re probably like a thousand miles away from the nearest toilet.” eventually, mac wouldnt be able to hold it in any longer and would scurry off to the trees nearby to which sole laughed at. he’d glare at them childishly, “i’d like some privacy, please.” sole would turn around, much to maccreadys comfort and kept watch, “whatever floats your boat, mac.”

Gage:

when i say this man doesn’t give a fuck, i absolutely mean it with all my heart. if he has to piss at the top of trinity tower, then so be it. he’s not shy at all with announcing his needs to go use the restroom and would just go without notifying sole majority of the time. he wouldn’t care if he knew sole for a day, week, or 50 years from now, he would still do his own business anywhere and everywhere he wanted to. there would be at one point of their relationship where sole wouldn’t even have to ask where he’s going, they would just naturally know by instinct. their only request was to do it as far away as possible from them, to which gage obliged. some days, sole would pull out a joke before he headed to his destination, “make sure the radroaches don’t bite your ass, wouldn’t want to treat that.” he’d scoff before slinging his rifle over his shoulder, returning their joke with another. “doubt it’d be like that boss. the smell will have them runnin’ instead.” sole would snicker, wiping off the bloodstains off of her switchblade. of course gage would say something like that.

Preston:

naturally, preston is often shy about it but isn’t afraid to confront sole. he knows it’s unhealthy to hold it in and wants to ensure that he doesn’t get himself sick from doing it, so he tries to use it whenever he feels the urge to. the only time he’ll really hold it in is if they’re being attacked or in a dangerous situation. preston is fine with using restrooms in buildings, but will absolutely refuse to do his business in the wilderness. there’s just no absolute way he’ll do that, he’d rather just hold it in until they reach the nearest building. if he were to confront sole about it, he’d just shyly request that they’d stop by the nearest building with a restroom to do his business. sole would flash him a grin and accommodate his needs, looking at their pip boy for the nearest area. preston would probably thank them the whole time for going through the trouble just to ensure his comfort but they’d wave it off. before he’d enter the restroom, sole would look over their shoulder, a shiteating smile plastered on their face, “know how to aim or you’ll make it rain.” he’d blush embarrassingly but awkwardly smiled back as an attempt to be polite, “i’ll, um, be sure to, general.” they’d chuckle and gesture for him to go do his thing.

[bluesfortheredj]

Myths and legends.

There had long been talk of a curse placed upon your family many moons ago, but you always took such whisperings with a heavy pinch of salt and a large amount of disbelief. Witches? Curses? It was the twenty first century not the sixteenth, and the fairy tales that you heard from family members were getting rather tiresome. All you’d heard throughout your life was how the women of the family were doomed to be alone, never destined to be married unless they found that one person who would break the curse and lay true love’s kiss upon their sweet lips. It was a cliché, it sounded as if it was straight from a Disney film in all honesty, and even when faced with the facts you were very dubious about how true this was; it could be pure coincidence after all. So what if none of the women in your family had married? So what if many had come close but all had failed due to unforeseen circumstances such as sudden deaths and disappearances? Didn’t mean it was true, it was simply bad luck! A self fulfilling prophecy in your opinion, especially with how much people were obsessed with it.

“This isn’t to be taken lightly (Y/N),” your mother warns as you dismiss your Aunt’s insistence that you need to take all of this seriously, “if you find someone and they propose you could be putting them in a very dangerous situation.”

“Isn’t that the only way to find out whether it’s true love or not? How else will you know? You kiss him and then suddenly the world fades around you both and fireworks go off everywhere?!” you question sarcastically.

“Don’t be so ridiculous!” your Aunt scolds, “this isn’t a joke.”

You sigh as you sink into the armchair opposite her, “I’m sorry. I know it’s not. I’m sorry about what happened to Daniel, and I’m sorry about what happened to dad; are you sure that this is the so called ‘curse’ though, and not just bad luck?”

“We’re sure,” your mother sighs sadly, “you need to realise just how powerful true love’s kiss can be. It can change your life, it can break all manner of curses, it can change the future of this family.”

“But how will I know? Aren’t there some instructions or something that comes along with a curse? I’ve kissed a fair few people; how do I know I haven’t met the one yet?”

“It’s said that you’ll wake to a brighter world once true love’s kiss has been placed upon your lips,” your Aunt replies, “whatever that means.”

“And although you loved your partners, you never felt like that?” you ask as you look between the two women.

They both shake their heads solemnly, “unfortunately not.”

“So why did you go ahead with the wedding plans knowing that you could be putting them in danger?”

“Because we were like you!” you mum exclaims, “young and disbelieving that anything bad could happen. I know that a couple of generations in this family were never warned in the first place, the curse having been forgotten, but it soon reared its head again and we’ve made sure it hasn’t been overlooked again.”

“Hmm,” you hum, quickly checking your watch, “I’ve got to go, I promised I’d meet Gwil, I’ll see you both later.”

“Bye sweetie.”

“I’m sorry by the way,” you add when you reach the doorway, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

You get into your car, a renewed worry now washing over you, and drive into town where you were to meet your lifelong friend Gwilym. The older you got the less you saw of each other, but you always tried to make time for one another at least once every couple of months or so. He knew about the supposed curse on your family and the two of you had joked about it at length, but now you’d truly been convinced that it was real it suddenly lost all comedic aspects. What if you never found the person to break the curse? There’s billions of people on earth, the chances of you finding your one true love were slim to none as far as you were concerned. Luckily the sight of Gwil was enough to brighten up your face a little and as you walk into his open arms you feel a bit better than you had done on the drive here as you mulled things over in your mind.

“Hello you,” he sighs happily.

“I’m so glad to see you,” you reply, your voice muffled by his jumper.

“What’s wrong?” he frowns, holding you at arm’s length and studying your face, “sit down and tell me all about it.”

“Oh, you know, the usual… the great curse that hangs over my family and the fact that the chances of finding anyone to break it are pretty much zilch.”

“Ah. So they’re still going on at you about it?”

“I brought it on myself, I was being my usual ignorant self and talking about how it was probably just a coincidence or self fulfilling prophecy type thing… but it’s not,” you pause as you exhale, “it’s really not.”

“Right then, you’d better sign up to every dating site going so we can find you your true love!” he announces, slapping the table triumphantly as his idea, “you can start downloading apps while I get us drinks. Tea with a chocolate chip muffin, yeah?”

“You know me so well,” you chuckle as you get your phone out of your pocket.

You download the first free dating app you find, one you’d used before, then fill in your details and start swiping through your initial matches just as Gwilym arrives at the table with a tray of treats.

“Show me,” he grins as he sits down and slides your phone towards him.

He begins to flick through the options and as you look at each picture of the men you instantly dismiss them for what you realise is the same reason every time; they don’t look like Gwil. You cover your face with your hands, and hear his familiar laugh at your action.

“That bad, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Well come on then, describe your perfect man,” he suggests as he locks your phone and picks up his mug instead.

“Well… y’know… rugged good looks, thick hair that you can run your fingers through, tall, someone with some meat on them so you’re not hugging a lamppost, a guy who can take the piss out of himself and who has a wicked sense of humour, someone who’s family orientated with a big heart… I dunno, that’s all I can think of.”

“Not to be big headed but that kind of sounds like me,” he winks.

“You?!” you laugh, a little too enthusiastically.

“Ouch!” he chuckles.

“I didn’t mean to laugh so much… I just… I think I need to go actually,” you frown.

Gwilym quickly reaches out his hand and places it gently on top of yours before running his thumb along your skin softly, “stay,” he whispers, “please. Don’t be scared.”

“But I am,” you admit quietly as you relax back into your chair.

“Why?”

“Because I have bottled these feelings for so long that I don’t know how to deal with them. It was fine when I didn’t believe in anything my family said but now it’s different, it’s very real, and I am not willing to put you in any danger.”

“What if I want to take that risk? What if I propose right now without even knowing the answer? It’d be worth it in my opinion.”

“Don’t you dare!” you warn him with a gasp, “do you realise what that could mean if… if it wasn’t you?”

“Do you think it isn’t?”

“I don’t know what I think but all I know is that I can’t involve you in this, it’s not fair.”

“I want to be involved. Please. I’ve wondered if you’ve felt the same for so long and I can’t let this opportunity slip now that I know you feel the same.”

You slide your hand out from underneath his and sip your tea quickly as you begin to wonder how this meet with your close friend had suddenly taken a very different turn, and Gwilym leans back in his chair as he drinks from his mug, giving you some space that you definitely needed.

“Will there be some kind of sign if it is true love’s kiss?” he asks casually after a few minutes of silence.

“Apparently,” you nod.

He smiles then leans forward and swoops in to kiss your lips with a softness that you’d only ever dreamed of before. He places one of his hands on your cheek, his finger tips gently caressing your skin as his lips move with yours in a joyous dance, and the arm that’s nearest to his body reaches out to land on his thigh as you lean too far forwards on your chair, almost toppling it over.

“So…?” he grins as he pulls his lips away reluctantly and rests his forehead against yours.

You look into his eyes as you open your lips to reply, but then you gasp as the blue of his irises suddenly appears to illuminate right before you, and you pull back in shock as everything around you glows.

“(Y/N)?” he questions as he sees your gaze darting around the cafe to make sure you were seeing things correctly.

“I… Gwilym!” you laugh as you take his hands, “why didn’t you kiss me before?!”

“No!” he chuckles, “really?!”

“Yes! Did you know?”

“Well I certainly knew that you were the one for me… I just wasn’t completely sure that I was the one for you...”

“You’ve always been the one for me Gwil, I was just too scared to admit it.”

So not 100% sure how to do a submission and saw you were gonna stop writing soo was wondering if youd be willing to do a story of either Charlie Nelson or gwil (I'll let you pick if you write it) and have it be something like true loves kiss breaks the curse or saves the day?

@painthatiusedto @winnielinleigh @queenslandlover-93 @excellentbecca @peachllobotomy @lovemarvelousfics @lovemelikeyou1997 @readinghorn @godohammers @timeandpixiedust @lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @the-baby-bookworm @chlobo6 @drivenbybri

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “6 Feet”

With the scary events unfolding lately all over the world, Gotham is under lockdown also. The Joker and his girlfriend are self-quarantining at the Penthouse: needless to say entertaining him it’s no easy chore but thankfully Y/N can handle any type of situation. Probably…

Batsy

You almost drop your coffee mug when you see The Joker dangling outside the railing from the second floor of The Penthouse.

“What are you doing, J??!!!”

“Pumpkin, wanna bet I can land on the couch from here?” he flares one arm in the air.

“It’s too far off, you’ll never make it!” you mentally calculate the trajectory.

“Pfft, bullshit! If Batsy can do crap like this, so can I!”

“You don’t have the gear and training, J!”

“Gear??!! Training??!! I don’t need that; I’m not a wimp!”

“Fine, go ahead and break your neck!” Y/N gives up on the already lost cause. “How much are we betting?”

“50,000 dollars.”

“You got yourself a deal Mister Joker,” you take a sip of coffee, annoyed his desire for chaos is already surging to unspeakable heights after being trapped inside for the last 3 weeks.

The King of Gotham flexes his knees a few times for equilibrium and… here he goes: barely misses the couch, one leg gets caught on the night stand and BAM! Lands on the floor with a loud thud.

“Uugghhhh,” he groans in pain flat on his back. “Y/N… I think I fractured my limbs.”

You slowly approach and ignore his complains, pointing out the truth:

“You owe me 50,000 dollars. And if you fractured your bones, I’m going to strangle you on the spot because there is no way I’m taking care of a stubborn patient!”

The Joker makes an extra effort to react at your ultimatum:

“Excellent news, Princess. I can move my toes!”

You roll your eyes and extend one of your arms to help him up. 

“Lucky indeed, J. Are you doing this for attention?”

“Gotta keep the flame going, Pumpkin,” The Clown whizzes up a storm, trying to catch his breath following the glorious bungee jumping without a rope.

Baldy

Supposedly J is in convalescence, thus he wanted a haircut. You are both watching TV in the living room, your boyfriend sitting on a chair while you shape the locks behind him.

You start laughing at the funny movie so your hand slips: the trimmer shaves a patch of The Joker’s fabulous green hair, leaving him with a beautiful quarter sized bald spot.

Oh, shit!

He has no idea his perfect groomed style it’s butchered; better to ride this crazy train until he notices. You comb what you can from the longer strands on top of the mess you created, lying without blinking at his question:

“How did it turn out?”

“Impeccable, baby! My flair and precision regarding detail is through the roof,” you boast full of confidence.

The Heinlein Maneuver  

You’re tossing bullets at J, attempting to make them land in his mouth.

“Wow, you’re getting pretty good at this!” Y/N praises and he suddenly chokes. “Oh my God!” you panic. “Spit it out! Spit it out!”

You run behind him and start The Heinlein Maneuver which you had to learn in order to repeatedly save The Joker as a result of this being one the couple’s favorite games to play.

One, two, three… Pfuuu, there it goes: the bullet flies out of him!

The King is taking a few moments to recover whilst you impatiently want to find out what he saw this time: whenever he has these near death experiences he sees weird stuff.

“What was it this time?” you curiously inquire.

“I saw Batsy naked,” he exhales full of spite. “That asshole is totally invading my privacy!”

“Naked?” your entitled smirk makes him lose it. “Was he circumcised?”

“Excuse me??!!”

“A girl can be curious,” Y/N defends her inquiry.

“Listen here, woman! The dilemma you should be quizzing me about is if I saw his face so we can identify him!”

“Well, did you?”

“Nope.”

“Then it’s irrelevant.”

“I nearly died Princess! All I need right now is mindless fornication to aid with my rehabilitation,” the strategist in J blurs out.

“You did this to get laid?”

“Gotta keep the flame going, Pumpkin!”

6 Feet

You sneezed twice in a row and The Joker has suspiciously watched you like a hawk since.

“Do you feel sick, Pumpkin?...”

“No, it’s my allergies,” you blow your nose in a tissue and cough due to a scratchy throat.

“Are you sure?...”

“Yes, you know I get like this at spring time.”

“Hm…” J huffs. “I don’t think we should risk infection, I’m too important for this town. I say you take the south part of The Penthouse and I’ll reside in the west. Don’t come any closer, stay at least 6 feet apart just like the regulations stipulate. You can move in the room across from the master bedroom.”

“Huh?!” the baffled Y/N pretends she didn’t comprehend the words. “I have allergies, J!!! ALLERGIES!!!!”

“6 feet Pumpkin! Don’t make me repeat myself!!”  

Booty Call

You got mad and moved into the other bedroom; I guess The King wants to be safe from your allergies because that’s what you have and nothing more. Does he ever listen to reason? Nah, that would be a first.

You’re reading a book when your cell phone goes off: an invitation to chat from your man.  Across the hallway…Yup…

“Pumpkin!” his face pops on the screen. “I wanna have phone sex!!!!”

“No,” you immediately cut him off, annoyed.

“What do you mean no?! I’m about to blow a gasket over here!!!!!!!!!”

“I don’t care what happens to your gasket Mister Joker, as long as you keep it 6 feet away from me!!” and you hang up.

“How dare you, Princess?!” he shouts at your defiance. “I’ll open an account on PinchMyButt and I’ll pick another partner to tend to my overloaded system!”

“Be my guest!” you snort at his rudeness since you can actually hear him to start with.

PinchMyButt.com

One of the most popular online dating/hook up websites. Period.

The Joker uploaded his profile one hour ago and instead of being flocked with pinches like he thought, there’s no activity besides users flagging the account for “inappropriate content”. Members reckon it’s distasteful to have someone pretending to be The Clown Prince of Crime searching for a match; they have no clue it’s genuine.

Another hour passes by… zero pinches.

J is getting pissed.

30 more minutes… Ding! The app announces.

“Ha!” he triumphantly yells. “Somebody pinched my butt, Pumpkin! Oh, she said I have nice nipples and a cute bald spot! I don’t have a bald spot! Who is this?!” he investigates the blog name: iHaveAllergies69.

Rings a bell: you kept on telling him this plus his girl preferred sex position…

“Pumpkin, is that you?!” The Joker shrieks.

“Yeah!” you admit from the other bedroom. “I felt sorry for you!”

“I don’t want your pity! Unpinch me! Wait, my account just got suspended: due to a large number of objections, you’re account has been terminated. What the hell?! What am I supposed to do now, Princess?“

“Dunno, you’re the one that wanted us to be apart and it’s an excellent rule! I’m enjoying my isolation; you should do the same.”

“How can you enjoy confinement?”

“I’m having fun!”

“Without me?! Impossible! I put the fun in dysfunctional!”

Boinky

The elevator’s doors slide and Frost strolls inside carrying a box.

“Not a step further!” J mumbles taking the safely off his pistol.

He misses threatening people thus when the guys bring food and supplies to The Penthouse he tries to shoot them.

“What’s in there?” he gestures towards the cardboard container.

“Not sure, sir. Y/N ordered it online.”

“Open it!” the stern order leaves no room for hesitation.

Jonny rips the scotch tape and removes the pink, fluffy toy.

“What the heck is this?!” The Joker frowns at its shape.

Frost analyzes the plush item and it clicks.

“Boss, I think it’s a…”

“PUMPKIN!!!!” The Clown interrupts.  “Why does this atrocity resemble my crown jewelry???!!” he screams you as you show up in the living room.

A super excited squeal:

“Boinky arrived!!!” and Y/N rushes to get her package. “Toss it! Toss it!!” you wave your arms and Jonny does as required. “I need something to cuddle with since you kicked me to the curve,” you finally address him.

“And you couldn’t find a teddy bear?!”

Flame

The Joker barges in your bedroom while spraying around with disinfectant mist:

“Pumpkin, this is the biggest emergency Gotham has ever faced!!!!” he frantically takes his clothes off and you jump because you just fell asleep 5 minutes ago.

“What is it?” you snuggle with your fuzzy trinket.

“Goddamn Boinky!” your boyfriend snatches the toy and flings it out the opened window.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m about to explode, woman! That’s what!!! My online dating was abruptly halted by unforeseen factors so I have no choice,” he viciously starts yanking at you tank top. “I either risk contamination or I blow a gasket and that means kaput!”

“I have allergies,” you frown and J tugs at your shorts in a hurry, irritated.

“Exposing myself like this!” he continues bickering and Y/N can’t help it:

“Just like Batsy did?”

The King gasps, appalled you twisted his near death experience vision in such a hasty manner.

“Unacceptable!” he pulls you under him and your eerie grin prompts doubt: “Hold on! Did you purchase Boinky to intrigue me and made sure I can’t blow my gasket anywhere else with the sole purpose of having me crawl back to you?!”

Y/N innocently kisses the tip of his nose, whispering:

“Gotta keep the flame going, baby.”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[akechicrimes]

summary: college aged akira is a little stupid and attempts the big bang burger challenge while drunk as all hell. it goes about as well as you can expect and goro is long-suffering as he deals with the aftermath

cw: drinking, vomiting

read on ao3 here

***

Goro finds out that Akira made a hobby of eating gigantic twenty-pound burgers during high school when, during college, Akira downs five martinis and a shot of tequila on his twentieth birthday, walks plastered as all fuck into a Big Bang Burger at two in the morning, and finishes the burger challenge in front of Goro's and Ryuji's increasingly horrified and equally drunk eyes in less than four minutes.

"DUDE," says Ryuji.

"Congratulations," says Goro. "That's one of the most disgusting things I've ever seen."

"Hey, don't say that to him on his birthday! That was—okay that was a little disgusting, but what a effin' shot chaser, huh?"

"Can you even move?" Goro asks. Akira's looking increasingly queasy, and the poor cashier for the Big Bang Burger is looking increasingly nervous.

"I'm a veteran," Akira says.

"Wow. You really say that with unironic pride," says Goro.

Akira flashes him the peace sign without expression.

Unsurprisingly, they make it down two blocks, during which Goro and Ryuji argue about whether or not the cashier could tell they were drunk (she could, she was just too polite) when Akira suddenly stops. "Wait," says Akira, and then a very long pause, in the way that drunk people do when their thoughts are moving at five kilometers an hour but nonetheless are struggling towards the finish line. Then Akira announces like a personal life revelation: "I'm gonna hurl."

Goro freezes. "You are not serious."

"Here?!" Ryuji yelps. He looks around frantically; they're not quite in Shinjuku but close enough that there's hardly a public bathroom just conveniently around. "Oh, geez, uh—"

Akira starts walking towards the nearest alleyway, swaying on his feet with his hand over his mouth. "Holy shit," says Ryuji, "go go go go—"

And this is how Goro comes to be standing over Akira Kurusu, ill-fated high school crush of his that Goro may or may not have never gotten over, while said crush throws up behind a dumpster.

Akira's still bent double, chest heaving, hair slowly growing sweaty and plastered to his face. Goro's hands flutter over him without touching. Smoothing someone's back when they throw up is just what you're supposed to do, a sort of meaningless platitude from movies, but it never made a lot of sense to Goro. It doesn't make the retching stop. On the occasions Goro has ever been sick enough to throw his guts up, he's never had anyone to stroke his back, so he wouldn't know if it helps at all. And for all Goro knows, maybe the last thing Akira wants is Goro touching him.

Ryuji has no such qualms, and is quite aggressively rubbing Akira's back, even stroking his neck in a way that makes Goro's eyes narrow. Makes him wonder what precisely goes on when Ryuji touches his male friends constantly, and why Akira seems to let him like it's nothing.

"Geez," says Ryuji, coming over to peer at Akira from the other side. "Ugh. Shit. This is kinda my fault, huh?"

"No," says Akira, in a high, strained voice. "Uh. I'm fine."

"You're effin' not. It is my fault. Fuck." For a second Ryuji looks so pissed off with himself that Goro's convinced they're going to have a drunken sob session in a dirty alleyway covered in vomit. When Ryuji drapes his whole arm across Akira's back, Akira just—leans into it with his whole body, like he's relieved. Goro is holding his breath. "Shoulda told you not to do it. This sucks as a birthday party, huh?"

Akira retches in answer, the soundless kind of your whole body revolting from the bottom up but not quite able to get anything out.

Goro stares at Ryuji's hand again. "I'll.. go get water from a convenience store," says Goro eventually. "Maybe something with electrolytes. I'm sure he'll need to replace those."

"Oh! Wait, that's a good idea—I'll do it!" says Ryuji. "Yeah, that's what he needs! Hey, uh, just stay here with him, I'll go—"

This backfired spectacularly, Goro thinks. "Don't worry about it, Sakamoto."

"No, no, I got it! Gotta make it up to him after I screwed up and all that," says Ryuji, and with one more enthusiastic backrub, he's bouncing out of the alleyway. "I'll be back in just a second!"

"Sakamoto—!"

No use. He's gone.

Akira retches again. The vegetable bits are coming up impressively whole, Goro notes with mild disgust.

"I didn't join a frat specifically to avoid holding someone's hair while they hurl, Kurusu," says Goro.

"Sorry," says Akira into the pavement, still a little drunkenly. "The burger challenge was supposed to be funny."

"Well," says Goro, and thinks. "It's not not funny."

Akira thinks about that double negative for a whole five seconds. He's beginning to look nauseous again, possibly from the force of thought. Goro regrets making the joke. Akira looks incredibly ill, and increasingly miserable, in the way that people do when they're realizing that nothing they can do can stop their body from making them feel like shit, and they'll just have to sit here and bear it.

"Face away from me if you're going to throw up again, please," says Goro.

Akira does faces away, but just pants. "Am I still sexy like this," says Akira like a joke that Goro has a feeling he is missing a lot of context for. Goro frowns.

"Considering you inhaled a burger larger than your torso, I don't know what convinced you that you were ever, at any point, sexy."

Then Akira does throw up again, which Goro is quite sure managed to get on Goro's shoes, and something in the back of Goro's head just says Okay, fuck it, because Akira is literally shivering with nausea and Goro figures that he maybe won't notice if Goro dares to put his hand right in that empty space between his shoulderblades.

Akira shudders harder.

Slowly, Goro rubs his back, the way he saw Ryuji do it. Akira's skin is insanely hot under Goro's hand, even though Goro's glove. Akira's wearing a stupidly thin shirt, too, considering that they're well on their way into autumn; Goro can feel a surprising number of lean, curved muscles. He can feel every one of Akira's breaths, messy and deep.

"Sorry," says Akira.

Goro very nearly freezes, but Akira looks so put out by it that he makes himself keep going. The back of Akira's neck is cool and wet with sweat. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. You're the one who's sick."

"I wanted the party to be fun for you too." Akira closes his eyes. Wipes his face. "I dunno. I wasn't thinking. I thought it'd be silly." Another deep breath. "I wanted to make you laugh. Sorry. Wait. I didn't say that. Well. It was something I did in high school so... I wanted you to know more things about me... since we didn't really. Have enough time. Back then. Um. Sorry. Wait."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Akira looks up. He doesn't wear his glasses anymore, and although Goro's seen him without his glasses for longer than he's seen him with them on, there's some part of Goro that still expects him to be wearing them, still expects that thin film of glass between Akira's eyes and Goro's. Akira looks especially naked today, expression not so much hazy so much as it is blown wide open, almost looking a little... afraid. "Sorry. I know you didn't want to spend your night this way."

Goro should probably tell him that it's a Wednesday and he felt so bad for Akira with all his friends abroad and barely anyone free to go drinking on a Wednesday for his birthday, but Akira's breathing is deep under Goro's hands, his hair is wrecked, and there's the smell of vomit in the air because Akira's face is maybe too close. "I don't mind," says Goro instead without thinking.

"Yeah, you do."

"Okay, I do," says Goro. "But it's fine because—"

—because it's you, Goro almost says, and successfully bites off before he can say it. He lost the right to say those kinds of things; and if he hadn't, he wouldn't be saying it now, here, in a alleyway covered in vomit. Akira frowns. Goro takes a breath. His hand is still on Akira's back. Akira swaying where he's standing, their legs almost touching. Goro scrambles around for something else to say: "I would never say no if you showed your weaknesses to me."

There's half a moment of surprise on Akira's face, and then another half a moment in which Goro reflects that maybe he himself is drunker than he really expected, when—"Hey, Akira!" Ryuji calls, barreling back into the alleyway, jangling a plastic bag full of more plastic.

Goro nearly jumps out of his skin and snatches his hand away.

Ryuji stops, staring at the two of them standing four feet apart, Goro's hands very pointedly at his own sides. "Hey, uh... you guys good?"

"Yep," says Akira.

Goro clears his throat. "Get on with it, Sakamoto. I'm calling a cab to get us all home," he announces, and strides out of the alleyway, already pulling out his phone.

"No, seriously, you alright?" says Ryuji's voice behind him. When Goro turns around, Akira's eyes are illuminated in the dark like a cat's, tracking Goro's escape.

"I'm fine, Ryuji," says Akira again, like he always does.

Goro turns away quickly. The hand he'd rested on Akira's back, even through his glove, is still warm.

There’s definitely thrown-up burger bits on Goro’s shoes, though. Goro sighs, and calls the cab.

[idnek83]

Aid - Chapter 8/13

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham

Tags: Alternate Universe - Island Mode, No Game Spoilers, Masturbation,  Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Grinding, Wet Dreams, Anal Fingering,  Friends With Benefits,  Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, Anal Sex

Summary: Everyone is hot and half naked because of their beach vacation. Soda is horny and tries to do something about it. Gundham tries to help and does. It all gets a little out of hand.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Read on Ao3

This Chapter: Soda thinks he's ready, but things keep getting in the way: Soda thinks some more, Gundham helps a mother, and Hajime figures out what's going on.

_____________________

Soda laughed for a while longer, half at Hajime and half at the whole stupid situation.

Once he was done, he glanced around to make sure Nagito was well out of ear shot.

“Sooo?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What?” Hajime was still blushing.

“Gimme the deats dude! You touch his dick yet?” He flashed Hajime a toothy grin.

“What the hell, Soda? No!” Hajime turned about twice as red as he had been. “I haven’t even told him I’m into him yet, of course I haven’t touched his dick…”

Right. Soda’s smile fell and he felt himself begin to blush as well. That was how these things were supposed to go: feelings first, dicks later.

Wow he was such a fuck up.

“Soda? C’mon man I’m not actually mad. You just surprised me, asking that kind of thing out of nowhere. I get that you were just messing with me, so cheer up.”

“Ha, yeah. I was… just messing around!” Soda forced a nervous laugh and hoped it was believable enough.

He could feel Hajime’s questioning gaze on him, but neither of them said anything.

“So… how’re you gonna tell him?”  Soda kept his eyes on his feet.

“I… don’t know. I might not. I’m still thinking it over.” Soda glanced to the side, Hajime was also staring at his feet.

“Is that really, like, okay? I mean, I dunno, won’t you be sad or whatever if you never tell him?”

“Maybe, but it’s not like I’ll for sure be happy if I do tell him, you know?”

Right. Admitting your feelings wasn’t even supposed to be the hard part. It was what came after…

“You think he’ll reject you?”

“Maybe.” Hajime heaved a deep sigh. “But it’s probably best to just get it over with, right?” Hajime flashed him a smile. “If he does rejects me, though, I expect you to clear your schedule so you can mend my poor broken heart.” Hajime dramatically placed the back of his hand to his forehead and leaned against Soda as he spoke.

“Sure, thing man, just promise you won’t try to rebound with me.” Soda snickered.

“Already told you you’re not my type, dude.”

“Not even when you’re heartbroken and maybe a little drunk?”

“Wow dude, sounds like you’re making plans. Maybe I should go to Chiaki instead…” Hajime pulled away from him with an overexaggerated sigh.

“C’mon man! I was just thinking that’s what people do when they get rejected, right? Have a beer to numb the pain or whatever!” Soda was doing his best to sound upset. “I said I wasn’t into you either man, so don’t be like that.” He looked at Hajime with his best pout.

They shared a look, then laughed at each other.

“But really, Hajime, however things work out, I’ll be right here supporting you the whole time.” Soda gave him a thumbs-up.

“I know, and I’m here for you too, okay? If you ever decide you actually want to tell me what’s going on with you, I’ll be right here.” Hajime smiled and bumped his shoulder against Soda’s, and Soda knew he was telling the truth.

He didn’t cry.

But it was close.

–

They ended up spending most of the day together, just wandering around the islands and chatting with whoever they happened to come across. They didn’t see Gundham.

Soda kept spacing out. Hajime definitely noticed, but just let him think, only really getting his attention when one of their friends approached.

He knew he needed to talk to Gundham, but he still wasn’t sure what to say.

Hey, thanks for all the good sex and stuff, I think I want to ruin it by having weird feelings now, if that’s cool?

Even if he did figure out what to say, he had no idea how Gundham was going to react. Like, obviously Gundham was a pretty nice guy, so he probably wouldn’t hit Soda or anything, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna get mad. They had a good thing going, if Soda tried to wreck it with his stupid gross feelings, he wouldn’t even be able to blame Gundham for being pissed.

Why did he have to go and start feeling things about Gundham? Why did he have to ruin everything?

How much longer could he go without telling Gundham?

It’s probably best to just get it over with.

Stupid Hajime with his stupid wisdom.

Fine. He was going to do it. Next time he got Gundham alone, he was going to sit him down and just talk.

About feelings.

Feelings that he had.

For Gundham.

Feelings like…

Feelings he couldn’t think about for too long. He was just going to scare himself out of talking to Gundham if he did.

He let Hajime guide him around the island while he tried, and failed, not to think of Gundham.

–

Dinner time rolled around before Soda even realized it, and suddenly he found himself being led to the hotel restaurant by Hajime.

He hadn’t even noticed he was hungry, but the second he saw the food spread out before him he was starving. It wasn’t until he had piled his plate high with food and taken his usual seat, with Hajime across from him, that he noticed Gundham had yet to arrive.

Hid heart raced a little faster at the thought of him, but he forced himself to calm down. It wasn’t like they were going to talk about… stuff in front of all their friends, so there was no need for him to be nervous.

He had just about calmed himself down when Gundham walked in and undid all of his hard work with nothing but a glance and a little wave. Soda nodded in return and his heart was back to racing. He was sure he was red, was sure that Hajime noticed and was connecting the dots, and he was sure he couldn’t wait until after dinner to do this. The second Gundham got his food and came to sit down, he was going to ask him to come back to his cabin to talk. Fuck whatever their friends would think about it, he needed to do this.

But Gundham never came to sit down.

Just as suddenly and quietly as he had arrived, he was already leaving.

Soda turned in his seat to call out to him, but he was already gone. He turned back to his food and tried to figure out what had just happened.

“Huh, anyone know where Gundham’s off to so quickly?” Sweet, blessed Hajime. Soda looked to his friend with gratitude, but he just casually sipped his tea and looked to the rest of the table. Soda would die for this man.

“Oh, he’s most likely headed back to the ranch.” Nagito had appeared behind Hajime. He placed a hand on his back before sitting next to him and picking up his utensils. Soda applauded Hajime’s ability to keep his cool, noticing only the slightest tinge of pink on his cheeks.

“The ranch?” Soda spoke up, can’t make Hajime do all the work.

Nagito shifted his unfocused gaze to Soda “Mmm, earlier today I happened to be walking by and saw a horse acting strangely. I thought I told everyone at breakfast this morning, but I suppose you were a bit out of sorts. Forgive me for being so useless.” God this guy was weird, it was obviously Soda’s fault for not listening.

“It’s fine, so… Gundham’s helping the horse then?” If an animal was in trouble, the way Gundham had run out at breakfast would totally make sense.

“Yes, and its foal as well. Apparently, the horse was giving birth and I failed to notice. Gundham helped with the delivery, but, from what a useless piece of trash like me could gather, it seems the foal came early and is quite sickly.”

“You… shouldn’t call yourself that Nagito…” Soda spared a moment to mentally cheer Hajime on before focusing in on what Nagito had said.

So Nagito had announced that he saw a horse being weird at breakfast and that had been why Gundham had left so suddenly with him. Then just now, he had probably just been grabbing something to eat before going back to the ranch, since the baby horse was sick. Well at least Gundham wasn’t pissed at him or something.

Not yet anyways.

Soda sighed. That probably meant he was going to have to wait even longer to talk with Gundham. A stable, which was most likely filled with horse shit, where Gundham was looking after a sick foal? Didn’t really seem like the right place for a feelings talk…

Stupid horse, having a baby early and making Gundham take care of it because he’s such a sweet and caring guy that he would never stand by and let an animal suffer, even if it meant missing out on his own vacation and skipping meals with his friends because Gundham was just selfless like that and an all around amazing guy who-

Soda put his head in his hands. Thinking about what a good guy Gundham was really wasn’t helping him deal with the fact that he was going to have to keep waiting to talk to him.

He finished the rest of his meal in relative silence, only speaking up to do his best as Hajime’s official wingman whenever there was an awkward pause between him and Nagito.

When everyone was finished eating, Hajime stopped him before he could head to his cabin to wallow in peace.

“Thanks for… y’know.” Hajime had a hand on the back of his neck and was blushing slightly

“No problem, just be sure to invite me to the wedding.” Soda gave a half-hearted smirk and some weak finger guns, and Hajime huffed in amusement.

“We’ll see.” They both laughed. “So…” There was a pause. “Gundham.” It wasn’t a question.

“Dude, please don’t.” Soda whined, he knew he had made fun of Hajime that morning, and he 100% deserved to be treated the same way, but he really wasn’t in the mood.

“But I’m right, right?”

“Dude.”

“Fine, but at least admit your taste in men is just as shitty as mine.” Hajime laughed and patted him on the back.

“Fine, sure, we both suck. Can we drop it now?”

“Course dude, just…” Soda looked up at his friend, willing him to just shut up and not make fun of him. “I’m rooting for you, okay?”

“Oh.” Not what he had expected. “Um… thanks. Really. I… thanks.” Hajime just patted his back one more time and headed off to his cabin. Soda let out a deep sigh and glanced in the direction of the ranch, before heading back to his own cabin for the night.

–

The next few days sucked.

Apparently, the mom horse was doing okay, but the baby wasn’t getting much better. Gundham was spending almost all his time at the ranch trying to help, so Soda only ever saw him when he was running in and out of the restaurant to collect his meals. He was jealous of the horse.

Hajime was doing his best to keep Soda occupied, but it wasn’t working too well. Mostly, it was because Nagito had taken to hanging around them, and as happy as Soda to see Hajime get a bit of solid flirting in every now and then, it just made him feel lonelier. He was jealous of Hajime.

On the third day, Mikan let everyone know that the foal’s condition was improving. Apparently, she had been helping out where she could. Even if animals and people were different, some of the basics were still the same, so Gundham had requested her assistance. It made sense, it wasn’t like there was anything Soda could do. But still… He was jealous of Mikan.

The fourth day found them all at the beach, except for Gundham of course, who was still keeping an eye on the foal. Soda half-heartedly participated in whatever games his friends were playing and was a little proud of himself for not creeping on Sonia while he did, but mostly, he just missed Gundham. He watched his friends laughing and splashing around in the water. He was jealous of all of them.

Lying in his bed on the fifth night, Soda didn’t know how much more he could take. He had been ready for his big stupid talk with Gundham five fucking days ago, and he knew he was slowly losing his nerve with each day that passed. The horse had been improving, right? So how much longer would it be before Gundham stopped spending every god damned waking moment at the ranch?

Wait.

Soda glanced at his alarm clock, it was a quarter past midnight.

Perfect.

Soda wouldn’t put it past Gundham to have stayed over night at the ranch those first few days, but now that the foal was doing okay? Gundham had to be sleeping in his cabin, right? So, Soda just had to wake him up and make him listen.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t actually a perfect plan, but it was good enough. Gundham’s cabin would be plenty private, and, most importantly, Soda wouldn’t have to wait anymore.

He got out of bed and dressed himself; just shorts and a t-shirt, no need to bother with his coveralls this late, before giving himself a once over in the mirror and heading out.

He could feel his heart beating faster. This was it. He was going to make sure Gundham understood exactly how he felt, even if he still wasn’t 100% certain about it himself. No more stupid thoughts getting in his way, no more stupid Nagito pulling Gundham away, and no more stupid sick animals to keep them apart.

This was it.

He raised his hand to knock on Gundham’s door, but before he could actually do it, he heard Gundham call his name.

“Kazuichi…” It was quiet, but Soda definitely heard it. Wow, did Gundham’s weird animal mindreading powers extend to him now too? And what did that say about him? Nah, Gundham had probably just seen him through the window or something. Well, whatever, if Gundham knew he was there he might as well go in.

He opened the door and slipped in, making sure to close it behind him.

“Hey. So I-”

Oh.

As he turned to face Gundham he realized that he had, in fact, not known Soda was there. He had called his name for an entirely different reason.

Gundham was on his back, knees bent, with one hand on his dick and one further down, between his legs.

Oh. Shit.

Gundham’s face was hard to read, but he definitely hadn’t been expecting Soda.

“I-I-I’m so fucking sorry! I’ll leave! I just though I heard- I mean I guess I did hear? But you weren’t- I mean? I’m sorry.” Soda turned to leave, fumbling for the door handle.

“My dear consort…” Gundham’s voice was airy, breathless. It went straight to Soda’s dick.

“Y-yeah?” Soda turned his head back to Gundham and tried his best not to stare at the hand between his legs. Gundham must have noticed. He smiled and slowly began to move his hand.

“Aid me.”

Next Chapter

[artificialqueens]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered, Chapter 5 (Crygi, Jan x Nicky) - Joley

ao3 link

Gigi’s back arched, her eyes squeezed shut. One hand gripped her comforter while the other fisted into the other girl’s hair. “Fuck, Crystal…”

The girl suddenly stopped her steady ministrations and looked up. “Excuse me?”

“What?” Gigi opened her eyes, only to look confused and disappointed at the sudden lack of contact.

“You just called me Crystal,” she replied, only to receive a blank expression in return. “My name is Emily.” She didn’t sound as angry as perhaps she could have. In fact, there was a hint of amusement in her voice.

On the other hand, Gigi wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Her face had already been red, but it was burning hotter than ever. Even in the poorly-lit room, it was very clear that the girl between her legs didn’t even resemble Crystal, which to her, made it even worse. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Whatever, it’s none of my business,” Emily shrugged it off. She sat there quietly for a moment before looking back up at her. “Do you want me to continue or…”

Gigi sat up and shook her head. “I’d love to, but, um, I’ll take a raincheck,” she mumbled sheepishly as she got up to search for her clothes. She just wanted to get the hell out of there, and fast.

“So, who is Crystal?” she asked, lighting up a cigarette, “must be a real beauty, huh?”

“Crystal is my best friend,” Gigi answered with a humorless laugh as she got dressed. “And… yeah, she is. I know, what a fucking cliche, right?” she sighed. “Doesn’t help that we’re pretending to be engaged,” she added, only to quickly follow up with “don’t ask.”

She chuckled, taking a long drag. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” she assured flatly. “But if you ask me, you should probably talk to her about this before it happens again with someone who’s gonna actually get pissed at you.”

Gigi rolled her eyes and pulled her bag over her shoulder. “Good thing I didn’t ask.”

——

Jan had been pacing around her room nervously for the past ten minutes. While she had considered what Heidi suggested, she wasn’t ready to just dive in and confess her feelings to Nicky. Instead, she decided to ease into it with the song she’d been so diligently practicing. When she sang she wasn’t scared. She didn’t have to think, she didn’t have to fear. And with the song not being in English, she didn’t have to worry about getting hung up on words and inflictions, she could just feel the music. And if nothing else, focusing on giving this her all would take her mind off of the wedding chaos.

‘Hey, are you ready to call?’ The text from Nicky popped up on her phone and finally got her to stand still. She took a breath, collecting herself. ‘Yeah, one sec :)’ she sent back, then looked at herself in the mirror once more before sitting in front of her laptop and calling Nicky.

“Bonne après-midi, my dear,” Nicky greeted cheerily. “Now, tell me what is so important. You used even more exclamation marks and emojis than usually. I was a bit concerned,” she teased.

Jan rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh stop, I’m just excited. I have a surprise for you, I’ve been working really hard on it,” she paused, waiting for Nicky to signal for her to continue. “I learned a French song and I wanna sing it for you.”

Nicky perked up in pleasant surprise and curiosity. “You did? But you don’t even speak French,” she furrowed her brows, “wait, do you?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No, no. But this song… I dunno, I listened to it and it made me think of you. Like, I could just feel it in my soul that it was the perfect fit,” she explained. “So, without further ado…” After clearing her throat, she started the music and began to sing. She lost herself in the music, the words she didn’t understand flowed with such ease. It wasn’t until the song ended that she was able to gauge Nicky’s reaction, and it caused her to frown a bit. “Are you okay?”

Nicky sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she quickly assured. She pushed her hair out of her face, blinking rapidly. “You have such a beautiful voice. It’s not even fair that you can just sing in another language so easily,” she feigned a soft laugh.

Jan took it as nothing more than high praise, which of course, she appreciated. “Aw, thank you. And before you know it, I’ll be able to sing to you in person,” she beamed.

“Yeah,” Nicky agreed, voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Jan, that was a nice surprise.”

“I’m glad you liked it! Listen, I hate to cut this short, but I promised Heidi and Jackie I’d meet them for lunch. I’ll call you later though, okay?”

Nicky nodded, and the call ended shortly after. She sat back in her chair, putting her hand over her pounding heart. Sure, she had been aware of the budding feelings she had towards her American penpal, but it had been so easy to not focus on. They talked a few times a day for the most part, but it was otherwise up to her to distract herself, and she could do so fairly easily. But something about Jan singing that song, it brought everything she had felt forward, and it hit her like a ton of bricks.

Oh.

“Mon dieu,” she muttered under her breath and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was better or worse to become aware of how strong her feelings were knowing she was going to see Jan in person in less than a month. On one hand, she worried she would be going in hoping for too much and would end up disappointed. On the other, she couldn’t help but think that maybe it was a sign. And you can’t just ignore a sign, right?

She squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them, hoping it would somehow give her a moment of clarity. Or better yet, she would suddenly be in New York and she would see Jan and everything would be all right. But nothing came of it, and she was left to sort out her feelings on her own.

Nicky groaned and lurched forward, then rested her head on the desk. “Vingt jours de plus…”

——

“Don’t you think doing an engagement photoshoot in Central Park is a little… cliché?” Gigi asked as she watched Crystal help Lemon fiddle with the lights.

Crystal shrugged. “It’s supposed to be cliché. It’ll make it more believable. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

“Then why are you all pouty?”

“Your dress is a lot bigger than mine and I feel outshined at my own wedding,” she replied, watching the way Gigi’s dress flowed with every move. It was truly a testament to Gigi’s designing abilities – with her dainty features and defined silhouette, she looked like a Disney princess. The more Crystal looked at her, the more she was convinced Gigi had stepped out of a cartoon and simply never told her.

Gigi giggled, covering her mouth as she did. “You’re not gonna be outshined,” she assured. “Look at your hair, whose eyes wouldn’t go right to that?” And to be fair, Crystal’s normal mess of curls was styled with a braid going across the crown of her head, and the rest was done into a teased-out ponytail. Normally, the two of them were the same height, but with the hairdo, it appeared that Crystal had a couple of inches on her.

Crystal tilted her head in thought. “Okay, you got me there,” she conceded.

“You guys ready?” Lemon asked when she had everything set up to her liking. “We have like, an hour and a half, two hours in this lighting, let’s make the most of it.”

Crystal and Gigi nodded, letting the shorter girl position them as she best saw fit. “Okay, look in love,” Lemon directed before she began snapping away.

As it turned out, Lemon didn’t need to give them a whole lot of further instruction. The fondness in their expressions, the tenderness in their touches, it flowed with a natural ease. Some passerbys would stop and look for a moment, some even snapping a picture of their own with their phone, but the faux-couple never lost focus. It was only one instruction that caught them off guard.

“Now kiss.”

The two of them froze, both understanding it was a perfectly logical request, but neither sure of how to approach it. What followed was a moment of awkward silence, then hesitant leaning in, and finally, their lips met in a gentle kiss.

“Good, now hold it,” Lemon continued, unphased by their odd behavior. She snapped a few more photos before looking up from her camera. “Alright, ladies. I think we got it,” she announced.

Crystal and Gigi lingered in the kiss for another moment before pulling back, leaving a new tension mounting between them. Neither of them could look the other in the eye, both knowing if they did, they’d start kissing again without the ability to stop.

But Lemon didn’t feel particularly inclined to facilitate whatever the hell was going on between them. “Anyway, I’ll email you guys the pics once they’re done. I’m gonna go now, some of us have actual girlfriends to spend time with,” she said, packing up her things. “Good luck with… this,” she said, gesturing between the two of them before leaving.

“So,” Crystal cleared her throat, “I think that went well.”

Gigi had opened her mouth to reply when – perhaps mercifully – they were interrupted when a woman came up to them.

The woman seemed friendly, maybe a bit tired. She was well-dressed, likely in her early thirties. “Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you,” she started, “but my daughter here wanted to meet the ‘princesses’,” she explained with a soft laugh.

Crystal and Gigi’s gazes drifted downward to the little girl, no more than four years old, shyly holding onto her mother’s leg. Their expressions softened and just like that, all of the tension melted away. They carefully crouched down to be eye-level with the child as her mother nudged her over. “Do you want your mommy to take a picture?” Crystal suggested to the girl.

The girl nodded eagerly, turning to look at her mom, who was already fishing through her purse for her phone. “Okay, Ayla,” her mom directed, “smile big!”

All three girls smiled brightly and Crystal and Gigi slowly got up as Ayla ran back to her mom. “Could you send that to me, actually?” Crystal asked, then gave the woman her number when she obliged.

When the two of them were alone again, there was a brief moment of worry that the tension would build back up, but the whole incident was still providing a successful distraction. “Oh my god, this is so cute,” Crystal cooed.

Gigi rested her chin on Crystal’s shoulder to look. “Aw, yeah, that’s adorable,” she agreed, her arms absentmindedly looping around Crystal’s waist. “I didn’t know you were so good with kids,” she added.

Crystal shrugged, having never really thought about it before. “I guess so, I was always around my cousins growing up and being one of the older girls puts you on default babysitting duty,” she explained, becoming aware of Gigi’s hold on her as she spoke and realizing there was nowhere else she’d rather be, even if it came with the stipulation of standing in the middle of Central Park in a wedding dress.

“We should get changed,” Gigi said, though she didn’t make any immediate attempts to move from Crystal. But eventually she did let go and stand upright. “I’ll order an uber.”

——

Back in Crystal’s bedroom, she and Gigi had long since changed out of their dresses, taken off their makeup, and let their hair flow loose and free. They lay sprawled out on Crystal’s bed, barely watching whatever was on TV. This was their normal, when they were able to turn off their brains and just enjoy each other’s company.

At least, until Gigi broke the silence, clearing her throat first. “I think we need to work on acting like a couple.”

Crystal furrowed her brows and sat up. “What do you mean? I thought we’ve been pulling it off pretty well so far.”

“Come on, you have to admit that kiss was pretty awkward,” she retorted.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair,” she conceded. “So what, you think we should practice kissing? I haven’t used that line on a girl since tenth grade,” she teased.

Gigi turned a bright red at that, though she insisted, “it’s not a line!” in a voice that was a little too strained to be convincing. “But the time until Nicky’s visit is dwindling, and this all hinges on how convincing we are as a couple. So, you know, no pressure, but…”

“But Jan’s fate lies in our ability to tongue wrestle. Got it,” Crystal finished with a firm nod. This was what she did best – make a dumb joke to deflect from the fact that she was dying to kiss her and get it right this time. “C’mon baby, kiss me like you mean it,” she said in a comically ‘sexy’ manner.

And Gigi did, taking it as a chance at redemption. She cupped Crystal’s face and pressed a deep kiss against her lips and suddenly, all bets were off. As soon as she felt Crystal kiss back, she poured everything into the embrace.

Crystal was fairly certain Gigi had stolen her breath in the kiss, as she found herself forgetting how to do anything but kiss back like her life depended on it. She grabbed onto Gigi’s shirt, eagerly pulling her closer until she fell back on the bed with Gigi on top of her, their legs intertwining.

Gigi couldn’t have held back if she tried. She yanked Crystal’s hair to expose her neck, then bit down and left a hickey in the dead center of one side. It just made it more convincing if she left proof that they were in a committed, intimate relationship, of course. In fact, she left one on the other side for good measure. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she muttered, sitting back and straddling Crystal’s waist and gazing down at her.

Crystal was fairly certain her heart had never beaten so fast in her life. Being with Gigi was nothing like her hookup with Jan. Things were fun and slow and light with Jan, compared to how hard, fast, and passionate Gigi was. She supposed that was where the difference between a friend and lover lies – Jan was warm and comfortable, but Gigi lit a fire in her, they weren’t even undressed and she was already aching for her to fan the flames. “Please don’t stop.”

The quiet plea was music to Gigi’s ears and nothing in the world could’ve stopped her from obliging. She tugged off her own t-shirt, now significantly less dressed than Crystal, having forgone a bra. But she made quick work of remedying that, stripping Crystal from the waist-up and placing a trail of kisses from right above her navel, all the way back up to her collarbone. “Couldn’t if I tried,” she cooed.

“Mm…” Crystal exhaled softly, reacting to every touch with a silent cry for more. She loved the way Gigi’s lips felt against her – on her neck, on her breasts, the way her tongue swirled around her nipples and flicked against the metal of her piercing. “Fuck…”

Gigi moved back down Crystal’s body, tugging off her shorts and panties in one swift motion, then made herself comfortable between Crystal’s thighs. She had only just started when Crystal stopped her.

“Wait, wait, I wanna get you too.”

It took Gigi a moment to understand what Crystal meant. “Oh! Okay, yeah,” she got up and repositioned herself on top, her head between Crystal’s thighs and her legs resting on either side of her head, letting Crystal shift underneath her until she was straddling her face. They both started off slow, but neither could keep the teasing pace up for long, picking up in speed and fervor.

Gigi balanced herself with one hand, using both her tongue and the fingers of her opposite hand to fuck Crystal with a pace that bordered on erratic. Her mind was both frantic and clouded with lust and emotions she was in no position to decipher. She was only loosely aware that Crystal was struggling to keep up with her, and she didn’t care. It was her so it felt good.

And Crystal actually liked the challenge of trying to keep up with Gigi. Her senses were in overdrive with how incredible she made her feel, and it spurred her on all the more. It did become more difficult as she neared her peak – her vision started to get hazy, her breathing more labored, and she couldn’t focus on anything else when she came with a loud groan. She took a moment to catch her breath, then readily and eagerly got Gigi off as well.

When they were both done, Gigi pushed herself off of Crystal and lay beside her. She wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close with her arms securely around her waist. “I think we can pull off being a couple now,” she mumbled, face buried in Crystal’s hair.

“Yeah,” Crystal breathed out with a hint of a laugh, “we’re such good actresses.” And she was just glad Gigi wasn’t able to see the grin on her face, because now she couldn’t even convince herself that she wasn’t in love with Gigi.

[missjanjie]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered | (5/?)

Title: Signed, Sealed, Delivered Summary:   Jan is in love with her French pen pal, Nicky. Her roommate, Crystal, is in love with her best friend, Gigi. A (perhaps ill-thought out) plan emerges: give Nicky a reason to visit by inviting her to Crystal and Gigi’s wedding. With a month to pull the scheme together, no one knows how this will end up. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter) / ~14.5k (total) Relationship(s): Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Gigi’s back arched, her eyes squeezed shut. One hand gripped her comforter while the other fisted into the other girl’s hair. “Fuck, Crystal…”

The girl suddenly stopped her steady ministrations and looked up. “Excuse me?”

“What?” Gigi opened her eyes, only to look confused and disappointed at the sudden lack of contact.

“You just called me Crystal,” she replied, only to receive a blank expression in return. “My name is Emily.” She didn’t sound as angry as perhaps she could have. In fact, there was a hint of amusement in her voice.

On the other hand, Gigi wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Her face had already been red, but it was burning hotter than ever. Even in the poorly-lit room, it was very clear that the girl between her legs didn’t even resemble Crystal, which to her, made it even worse. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Whatever, it’s none of my business,” Emily shrugged it off. She sat there quietly for a moment before looking back up at her. “Do you want me to continue or…”

Gigi sat up and shook her head. “I’d love to, but, um, I’ll take a raincheck,” she mumbled sheepishly as she got up to search for her clothes. She just wanted to get the hell out of there, and fast.

“So, who is Crystal?” she asked, lighting up a cigarette, “must be a real beauty, huh?”

“Crystal is my best friend,” Gigi answered with a humorless laugh as she got dressed. “And… yeah, she is. I know, what a fucking cliche, right?” she sighed. “Doesn’t help that we’re pretending to be engaged,” she added, only to quickly follow up with “don’t ask.”

She chuckled, taking a long drag. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” she assured flatly. “But if you ask me, you should probably talk to her about this before it happens again with someone who’s gonna actually get pissed at you.”

Gigi rolled her eyes and pulled her bag over her shoulder. “Good thing I didn’t ask.”

------

Jan had been pacing around her room nervously for the past ten minutes. While she had considered what Heidi suggested, she wasn’t ready to just dive in and confess her feelings to Nicky. Instead, she decided to ease into it with the song she’d been so diligently practicing. When she sang she wasn’t scared. She didn’t have to think, she didn’t have to fear. And with the song not being in English, she didn’t have to worry about getting hung up on words and inflictions, she could just feel the music. And if nothing else, focusing on giving this her all would take her mind off of the wedding chaos.

‘Hey, are you ready to call?’ The text from Nicky popped up on her phone and finally got her to stand still. She took a breath, collecting herself. ‘Yeah, one sec :)’ she sent back, then looked at herself in the mirror once more before sitting in front of her laptop and calling Nicky.

“Bonne après-midi, my dear,” Nicky greeted cheerily. “Now, tell me what is so important. You used even more exclamation marks and emojis than usually. I was a bit concerned,” she teased.

Jan rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh stop, I’m just excited. I have a surprise for you, I’ve been working really hard on it,” she paused, waiting for Nicky to signal for her to continue. “I learned a French song and I wanna sing it for you.”

Nicky perked up in pleasant surprise and curiosity. “You did? But you don’t even speak French,” she furrowed her brows, “wait, do you?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No, no. But this song… I dunno, I listened to it and it made me think of you. Like, I could just feel it in my soul that it was the perfect fit,” she explained. “So, without further ado…” After clearing her throat, she started the music and began to sing. She lost herself in the music, the words she didn’t understand flowed with such ease. It wasn’t until the song ended that she was able to gauge Nicky’s reaction, and it caused her to frown a bit. “Are you okay?”

Nicky sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she quickly assured. She pushed her hair out of her face, blinking rapidly. “You have such a beautiful voice. It’s not even fair that you can just sing in another language so easily,” she feigned a soft laugh.

Jan took it as nothing more than high praise, which of course, she appreciated. “Aw, thank you. And before you know it, I’ll be able to sing to you in person,” she beamed.

“Yeah,” Nicky agreed, voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Jan, that was a nice surprise.”

“I’m glad you liked it! Listen, I hate to cut this short, but I promised Heidi and Jackie I’d meet them for lunch. I’ll call you later though, okay?”

Nicky nodded, and the call ended shortly after. She sat back in her chair, putting her hand over her pounding heart. Sure, she had been aware of the budding feelings she had towards her American penpal, but it had been so easy to not focus on. They talked a few times a day for the most part, but it was otherwise up to her to distract herself, and she could do so fairly easily. But something about Jan singing that song, it brought everything she had felt forward, and it hit her like a ton of bricks.

Oh.

“Mon dieu,” she muttered under her breath and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was better or worse to become aware of how strong her feelings were knowing she was going to see Jan in person in less than a month. On one hand, she worried she would be going in hoping for too much and would end up disappointed. On the other, she couldn’t help but think that maybe it was a sign. And you can’t just ignore a sign, right?

She squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them, hoping it would somehow give her a moment of clarity. Or better yet, she would suddenly be in New York and she would see Jan and everything would be all right. But nothing came of it, and she was left to sort out her feelings on her own.

Nicky groaned and lurched forward, then rested her head on the desk. “Vingt jours de plus…”

------

“Don’t you think doing an engagement photoshoot in Central Park is a little… cliché?” Gigi asked as she watched Crystal help Lemon fiddle with the lights.

Crystal shrugged. “It’s supposed to be cliché. It’ll make it more believable. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

“Then why are you all pouty?”

“Your dress is a lot bigger than mine and I feel outshined at my own wedding,” she replied, watching the way Gigi’s dress flowed with every move. It was truly a testament to Gigi’s designing abilities – with her dainty features and defined silhouette, she looked like a Disney princess. The more Crystal looked at her, the more she was convinced Gigi had stepped out of a cartoon and simply never told her.

Gigi giggled, covering her mouth as she did. “You’re not gonna be outshined,” she assured. “Look at your hair, whose eyes wouldn’t go right to that?” And to be fair, Crystal’s normal mess of curls was styled with a braid going across the crown of her head, and the rest was done into a teased-out ponytail. Normally, the two of them were the same height, but with the hairdo, it appeared that Crystal had a couple of inches on her.

Crystal tilted her head in thought. “Okay, you got me there,” she conceded.

“You guys ready?” Lemon asked when she had everything set up to her liking. “We have like, an hour and a half, two hours in this lighting, let’s make the most of it.”

Crystal and Gigi nodded, letting the shorter girl position them as she best saw fit. “Okay, look in love,” Lemon directed before she began snapping away.

As it turned out, Lemon didn’t need to give them a whole lot of further instruction. The fondness in their expressions, the tenderness in their touches, it flowed with a natural ease. Some passerbys would stop and look for a moment, some even snapping a picture of their own with their phone, but the faux-couple never lost focus. It was only one instruction that caught them off guard.

“Now kiss.”

The two of them froze, both understanding it was a perfectly logical request, but neither sure of how to approach it. What followed was a moment of awkward silence, then hesitant leaning in, and finally, their lips met in a gentle kiss.

“Good, now hold it,” Lemon continued, unphased by their odd behavior. She snapped a few more photos before looking up from her camera. “Alright, ladies. I think we got it,” she announced.

Crystal and Gigi lingered in the kiss for another moment before pulling back, leaving a new tension mounting between them. Neither of them could look the other in the eye, both knowing if they did, they’d start kissing again without the ability to stop.

But Lemon didn’t feel particularly inclined to facilitate whatever the hell was going on between them. “Anyway, I’ll email you guys the pics once they’re done. I’m gonna go now, some of us have actual girlfriends to spend time with,” she said, packing up her things. “Good luck with… this,” she said, gesturing between the two of them before leaving.

“So,” Crystal cleared her throat, “I think that went well.”

Gigi had opened her mouth to reply when – perhaps mercifully – they were interrupted when a woman came up to them.

The woman seemed friendly, maybe a bit tired. She was well-dressed, likely in her early thirties. “Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you,” she started, “but my daughter here wanted to meet the ‘princesses’,” she explained with a soft laugh.

Crystal and Gigi’s gazes drifted downward to the little girl, no more than four years old, shyly holding onto her mother’s leg. Their expressions softened and just like that, all of the tension melted away. They carefully crouched down to be eye-level with the child as her mother nudged her over. “Do you want your mommy to take a picture?” Crystal suggested to the girl.

The girl nodded eagerly, turning to look at her mom, who was already fishing through her purse for her phone. “Okay, Ayla,” her mom directed, “smile big!”

All three girls smiled brightly and Crystal and Gigi slowly got up as Ayla ran back to her mom. “Could you send that to me, actually?” Crystal asked, then gave the woman her number when she obliged.

When the two of them were alone again, there was a brief moment of worry that the tension would build back up, but the whole incident was still providing a successful distraction. “Oh my god, this is so cute,” Crystal cooed.

Gigi rested her chin on Crystal’s shoulder to look. “Aw, yeah, that’s adorable,” she agreed, her arms absentmindedly looping around Crystal’s waist. “I didn’t know you were so good with kids,” she added.

Crystal shrugged, having never really thought about it before. “I guess so, I was always around my cousins growing up and being one of the older girls puts you on default babysitting duty,” she explained, becoming aware of Gigi’s hold on her as she spoke and realizing there was nowhere else she’d rather be, even if it came with the stipulation of standing in the middle of Central Park in a wedding dress.

“We should get changed,” Gigi said, though she didn’t make any immediate attempts to move from Crystal. But eventually she did let go and stand upright. “I’ll order an uber.”

------

Back in Crystal’s bedroom, she and Gigi had long since changed out of their dresses, taken off their makeup, and let their hair flow loose and free. They lay sprawled out on Crystal’s bed, barely watching whatever was on TV. This was their normal, when they were able to turn off their brains and just enjoy each other’s company.

At least, until Gigi broke the silence, clearing her throat first. “I think we need to work on acting like a couple.”

Crystal furrowed her brows and sat up. “What do you mean? I thought we’ve been pulling it off pretty well so far.”

“Come on, you have to admit that kiss was pretty awkward,” she retorted.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair,” she conceded. “So what, you think we should practice kissing? I haven’t used that line on a girl since tenth grade,” she teased.

Gigi turned a bright red at that, though she insisted, “it’s not a line!” in a voice that was a little too strained to be convincing. “But the time until Nicky’s visit is dwindling, and this all hinges on how convincing we are as a couple. So, you know, no pressure, but…”

“But Jan’s fate lies in our ability to tongue wrestle. Got it,” Crystal finished with a firm nod. This was what she did best – make a dumb joke to deflect from the fact that she was dying to kiss her and get it right this time. “C’mon baby, kiss me like you mean it,” she said in a comically ‘sexy’ manner.

And Gigi did, taking it as a chance at redemption. She cupped Crystal’s face and pressed a deep kiss against her lips and suddenly, all bets were off. As soon as she felt Crystal kiss back, she poured everything into the embrace.

Crystal was fairly certain Gigi had stolen her breath in the kiss, as she found herself forgetting how to do anything but kiss back like her life depended on it. She grabbed onto Gigi’s shirt, eagerly pulling her closer until she fell back on the bed with Gigi on top of her, their legs intertwining.

Gigi couldn’t have held back if she tried. She yanked Crystal’s hair to expose her neck, then bit down and left a hickey in the dead center of one side. It just made it more convincing if she left proof that they were in a committed, intimate relationship, of course. In fact, she left one on the other side for good measure. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she muttered, sitting back and straddling Crystal’s waist and gazing down at her.

Crystal was fairly certain her heart had never beaten so fast in her life. Being with Gigi was nothing like her hookup with Jan. Things were fun and slow and light with Jan, compared to how hard, fast, and passionate Gigi was. She supposed that was where the difference between a friend and lover lies – Jan was warm and comfortable, but Gigi lit a fire in her, they weren’t even undressed and she was already aching for her to fan the flames. “Please don’t stop.”

The quiet plea was music to Gigi’s ears and nothing in the world could’ve stopped her from obliging. She tugged off her own t-shirt, now significantly less dressed than Crystal, having forgone a bra. But she made quick work of remedying that, stripping Crystal from the waist-up and placing a trail of kisses from right above her navel, all the way back up to her collarbone. “Couldn’t if I tried,” she cooed.

“Mm…” Crystal exhaled softly, reacting to every touch with a silent cry for more. She loved the way Gigi’s lips felt against her – on her neck, on her breasts, the way her tongue swirled around her nipples and flicked against the metal of her piercing. “Fuck…”

Gigi moved back down Crystal’s body, tugging off her shorts and panties in one swift motion, then made herself comfortable between Crystal’s thighs. She had only just started when Crystal stopped her.

“Wait, wait, I wanna get you too.”

It took Gigi a moment to understand what Crystal meant. “Oh! Okay, yeah,” she got up and repositioned herself on top, her head between Crystal’s thighs and her legs resting on either side of her head, letting Crystal shift underneath her until she was straddling her face. They both started off slow, but neither could keep the teasing pace up for long, picking up in speed and fervor.

Gigi balanced herself with one hand, using both her tongue and the fingers of her opposite hand to fuck Crystal with a pace that bordered on erratic. Her mind was both frantic and clouded with lust and emotions she was in no position to decipher. She was only loosely aware that Crystal was struggling to keep up with her, and she didn’t care. It was her so it felt good.

And Crystal actually liked the challenge of trying to keep up with Gigi. Her senses were in overdrive with how incredible she made her feel, and it spurred her on all the more. It did become more difficult as she neared her peak – her vision started to get hazy, her breathing more labored, and she couldn’t focus on anything else when she came with a loud groan. She took a moment to catch her breath, then readily and eagerly got Gigi off as well.

When they were both done, Gigi pushed herself off of Crystal and lay beside her. She wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close with her arms securely around her waist. “I think we can pull off being a couple now,” she mumbled, face buried in Crystal’s hair.

“Yeah,” Crystal breathed out with a hint of a laugh, “we’re such good actresses.” And she was just glad Gigi wasn’t able to see the grin on her face, because now she couldn’t even convince herself that she wasn’t in love with Gigi.

[allie1804-fan]

Malaise (Chapter 7 - Playing the Field)

Chapter 1,  2 ,  3,  4,  5,   6 

Over the few weeks that followed her realisation, she made an effort to not always agree to the meet ups he suggested.  A couple of times, they would agree earlier in the day that Chinese was on the cards and then she would bail on him (claiming tiredness or something coming up with the kids) or she’d go for the Chinese but decide against the sex.  It was never because she didn’t want to but sometimes just to feel like she had some power over the situation, to not feel like every time he said jump , she asked how high.

One of the other actors, David, was also ‘sniffing around’ as Keanu called it. He’d even teased her about it but she also sensed a certain tone in his voice , a certain bristling!

The day finally came when David got the courage to ask her out to the theatre  - he’d got tickets for a show with a friend but they were ill. They were within earshot of Keanu when he asked and she said she’d check if she could and let him know – her excuse was that her kids might need her,  they would often spring the need for a ride on her last minute. “That’s true” thought Keanu but he also knew that she’d tell them to ‘do one and get an Uber’ if she wanted to be with him.  He smiled to himself and hatched a plan to make the decision for her, or so he thought.  Over lunch, they sat together and he asked her to a movie he knew she wanted to see, throwing his hat in the ring as it were. Surprising him, she said she was not sure and later on she made her mind up to go with David, just to try something new.  After all, that’s what she had said after her divorce and, she argued with herself that she and Keanu had said ‘no strings’.  She should test what she’d promised herself and play the field.

Later on when she went to find Keanu and let him know she couldn’t make it to the movie, she could see he was pissed off – it gave her a slight thrill if she was honest.  However, the date with David really wasn’t fun and she just didn’t find him sexy and his goodnight kiss was lousy.  She’d chalk that one up to experience!

Keanu chose to go to the gym instead of the movie – he realised he really wanted to see it with her so they could talk about it after.  He spent a good 10 minutes on the punch bag and spent longer than usual overall, just trying to get the tension out of his body.  When he got home, he called the agency and asked for Tara.

She was free the next day and he felt a kind of childish glee telling Celia he had to go and skip the Chinese even though they had worked late so it would usually have been on the cards.

“So, this is a surprise” Tara said when she’d sat down on a stool at the huge kitchen island.  I thought maybe you’d given up on this, I’ve seen a few pics of you lately out and about with a raven-haired beauty” she teased and he blushed.

“just a friend” he lied “she’s the cinematographer on my movie”

“With benefits?” she pried and he went even redder.

“OK, OK, yes there have been benefits!”

“So where is she now?”

“I don’t know and I don’t need to know, we’re playing it cool, no strings.  She’s a divorcee, she’s playing the field”

“You’re pouting!” she laughed wickedly.

“Am not!” he protested.

“Ok, ok I’m sorry.  I’m overstepping.  Why don’t we eat” she said gesturing towards the Thai take out on the kitchen counter that he’d ordered in, “and you can tell me all about her”

“So you met on set then?”

He nodded, tucking into his chicken.

“and how did the whole benefits thing get started?”

“Well she basically told me she was horny and asked ‘was I’ and we took it from there”

 “Wow, direct! And she said this on set?”

 “He guffawed

 “No, we started having a Chinese together, round the corner from the studio on days when we worked late discussing the shoot for the next day and she suggested it after one of those meals.  I told her I wasn’t after anything serious and she said ‘me neither’ and so we went from there”

 “From there to where?” Tara enquired

 “Well to it being a regular thing for the last couple of months but lately ……”

 “Lately what?”

 “She’s seemed less keen,  had more other commitments and then, I’m pretty sure, a date with this other guy from set”

 “You’re jealous!” she exclaimed.

 He opened his mouth to protest but decided against it and just shook his head then nodded before whispering sadly

 “but I have no right to be”

 “And I’m here as your revenge, right?”

 “naahhh,  relief more like”

 “come on!” Tara blurted out “be truthful, I’ve got no stakes in this, you can admit it to me!”

 He shrugged his shoulders

 “Maybe”

 “and do you really want to have sex with me?”

 He shook his head.

 “you’ll still get paid, don’t worry but no, I don’t”

 Tara smiled sympathetically

 “From the pics I saw, you obviously didn’t just have sex.  What else did you do?”

 “dinner, movies, bike rides, just chill together reading a book”

 Tara just chuckled “mmm very non committed – not!”

 “Friends have dinner, go to the movies, bike rides, chill……”

 “mmmmmm” she replied still smiling smugly.

 “And what’s she like?”

 Mmmmm sexy....”

 “Typical man, I mean as a person!”

 “I was getting to that! – she’s charming, witty, well read, empathetic, kind, hard working, straightforward”

 “seems pretty obvious to me that you’re smitten”

 “I gotta get a grip, we said no strings and no pressure.  That’s what we both wanted – pressure free sex.”

 “Maybe it’s time to see if she, and you are willing to be more committed. She might just be testing you with this date thing or maybe she’s freaking out because it all got too cosy too quickly”

They chatted a bit more and Tara took her leave for the first time ever without having sex, leaving him to stew on what she’d said.

Meanwhile, Celia had called a couple of girlfriends, Sarah and Chloe, round to her house for a few drinks and a catch up.

“So what’s Keanu like?”  Chloe asked.

“What?!”  Celia said sharply, taken by surprise at the question. She had wanted to talk about him but in an anonymous way and her first thought was that maybe her friends had seen pictures of them and put two and two together.

“he’s in the movie you’re on right?, Thought you might like to share if he’s as nice as they say”

“Right, yes, sure he’s on the movie and yes he is really nice, a real sweetheart” she said honestly, relieved that they seemed only to be asking from a ‘please dish about the celebrity’ point of view.

“And hot right, isn’t he like heading for 60 or something?”

She laughed at that

“I guess he must be, and yes he’s very fine looking, easy on my eyes behind the camera!” she smirked, thinking (and easy on the eye when he’s on top of me too!)

“And Chris Pratt, what about him?” Sarah chipped in.

“Yes sure, also a sweetie, no divas on this set which is always good” she replied, relieved that the conversation on Keanu had moved on quickly.

“And how’s the love life going?” Sarah asked.  The last time they had met had been on the one year anniversary of Celia’s divorce where she’d announced her intention to ‘get back out there’

“good, well I think good, I dunno”

“Pray tell, sounds like there’s a story there!”

“Well I’ve been seeing a guy from set, but nothing serious.  We agreed up front to just have a little fun, you know”

“Sexy fun?”

Celia was blushing as she nodded ‘yes’ to that.

“Good?”

“sooooo good, my god!”  I’ve never …”

“Never what?”

“She blushed, never having been quite so direct about her sex life

“Never come so hard!”

“Ooooh wow, so why do you sound all uncertain? Sounds ideal to me no strings, great  sex that makes you happy”

“I dunno, we haven’t put any pressure on really and we are comfortable in each other’s company, very comfortable. It just started to feel a bit coupley you know and I wasn’t seeing anyone else, just him a couple of times a week.  So a couple of days ago, this other guy, one of the actors, asked me out and I decided to go. And the other guy also asked me to go see a movie we’d been talking about seeing and I turned him down, to make myself try playing the field, you know. Because that’s what I said I would do and, you know what, it was lame, he was lame and not a good kisser so now I’m wishing I’d gone to the movie with K. with, you know the first guy (she had almost said ‘with Keanu’ and stopped herself in the nick of time before saying Ke and giving the game away!) but I am also worried that, you know, I am just slipping into needing it to be a proper relationship and he said he doesn’t want one so that’s just going to end in tears right and I said I didn’t want one but maybe I’m just not cut out for this no strings thing”

She paused to draw breath

“wow, OK, so maybe you need to have it out with him, the non actor guy, and tell him what’s going through your mind”

“mmmmm”  Celia was relieved that her mentioning Dave as the actor guy had made them assume Keanu was a non actor guy!

“he’s a nice guy right?”

“yes! He’s a sweetheart, very charming, he really makes me laugh, has a sharp wit, intelligent, kind, incredibly committed to the project, pretty down to earth, oh and sexy, sexy as hell!”

“So, if you tell him how you feel and he doesn’t want a relationship, then he’s not going to be mean about it right?”

“Probably not”

“Ok so tell him. You can’t carry on in limbo can you, wondering if this is it but maybe needing more?”

“I guess, I just feel bad, I mean I was the one to proposition him for god sake! And the first thing he said was that he wasn’t looking for anything serious and I was like “me neither” We went into it for fun, sex and companionship, he didn’t ask for me to get all smitten and need to know where I stand!”

“Shit happens!” Chloe giggled

They all laughed and clinked glasses.

“So what happened when you turned down guy no 1 for the movie”

Celia giggled

“I think he was pissed – in fact I think he heard actor guy ask me out so he maybe knew I’d rejected him and then the next day we’d worked late and we’d normally go for a Chinese and he said he had some other commitment”

“Ohhh, I say he’ was proving to you that he’s not your bitch!”

“mmm I hadn’t thought of that, doesn’t seem like his style”

 “Well you’ll only find out if you talk to him” Chloe stated firmly and Celia nodded, knowing that was the only way forward.

@penwieldingdreamer @fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @ladyreapermc @witty-wallflower @gatsbynouvel @bitchyslut99 @keanureevesisbae @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @kindainlovewithkeanu @paperplanesandwallflowers

[ikesenhell]

American Dream

AMERICAN DREAM, Chapter 1. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: HOLY SHIT IT HAS BEEN A MINUTE. Thank you so much to @missjudge-me, who commissioned this whole piece. You have them to thank. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get back up, but being homeless and in grad school and working and getting formally diagnosed with an autoimmune illness and being in a pandemic and moving kinda takes it out of you. This was very fun to write. Enjoy!

---

Masamune wasn’t used to his childhood bedroom anymore. His mother had converted his loft bed desk into her scrapbooking station. That was fine, in theory, except that it meant two things: one, she hadn’t changed the sheets in actual years, and two, the loft bed was still there. 

“Sweet!” He announced with a laugh, scaling the ladder in a single bound. It’d felt so tall once. He ducked low against the ceiling, pressing his back flat. “Holy hell, I was smaller then.”

“Duh.” His brother, Kojiro, smirked from the door. Time changed everything. Masamune felt so big when he was in high school himself, but looking at his teen brother changed his perspective. “You’re a big lunk now. You eat like The Rock.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Masamune kicked off his boots and army-crawled into the loft. 

“How much clearance you got?”

“Eh. Six inches from my chest to the ceiling?” He tried to roll onto his back and failed, laughing against the drywall. “Did you know about the time that I knocked myself out up here?”

Kojiro’s luminous blue eyes appeared over the lip of the bed. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Got too excited freshman year of high school, bolted straight up when the alarm went off.” He motioned at a dent in the ceiling. “I was late. Dad didn't stop laughing for about, I dunno—”

“—the whole ride there.” Kojiro chuckled. “Yeah. Sounds like him.”

The funeral wasn’t so far behind them that it didn't hurt, but it sure as hell hurt less. Masamune checked his knuckles into the dent. It was the whole reason for his coming home. His mother needed someone to sort out all of the old things, all the memories and bills she couldn’t bear to look at. It didn't matter that they’d never gotten along. Kojiro was her favorite; that was obvious (and Masamune couldn’t blame her for that, Kojiro was a joy by anyone’s standards). Even then he couldn’t let her hang in the lurch. His dad taught him better than that. 

Damn. He missed his dad. Everywhere he looked in this old town, in this old house, were reminders. There was the trashy diner where they used to get the world’s best milkshakes once a week. There was the old stove with the broken burner they’d never replaced (because it was ‘perfectly good’) where he’d learned how to cook. And it wasn’t just his father he felt the absence of. Masamune fingered along the space between the wall and the loft bed where he’d pasted all the pictures and keepsakes from his friends. Him and Nobunaga, posing in a picture by the beach with matching glasses. Hideyoshi and Mitsunari peering at homework, Mitsuhide poised to drop an ice cube down his shirt. (Nobunaga was a broker in New York City, conquering Wall Street with Hideyoshi. Those two shared an apartment in SoHo, all the way across the country on the other coast. Hideyoshi worked with Nobunaga now, and no one knew what Mitsuhide did. Mitsunari was off in the Peace Corps.) There was a snapshot of Masamune and Ieyasu squished together in the back of an old 1960s Volkswagen Beetle his mom had for decades, Ieyasu frowning over a mouthful of jalapeno poppers. Ieyasu was a doctor in Maryland now. He was terrible at texting back, too. Masamune made a mental note to call. 

And then there was Her. 

Even after all this time, he missed their friendship. He fingered the worn photograph; After-Prom senior year, her in a bikini that made his stomach somersault, him holding her on his shoulders. She was laughing. He still wore the fake eye back then, and it sat oddly in the socket, but even that didn't take away from the sheer joy as he gazed up at her. When she lived with her parents in the little green house across the street, he used to build paper airplanes with stupid jokes scrawled in the folds and fling it at her window, hoping that they’d hit and knowing they never would. They’d measure how far it got from his front door and compare their poorly-kept notes, misremembering all the numbers. 

Now she was out there in the world. 

Kojiro craned his neck over the loft edge. “What’cha got up there?”

Masamune didn't answer that. Instead he wondered if she was happy. “If I’m gonna stay here for now, we gotta fix this situation. I’m too manly and brawny to fit up here. Wanna swap beds?”

“No! This thing is so uncool, you can’t get—” And the teenager furtively checked the doorway, lowering his voice. “You can’t get anyone up here with you.”

As an adult, Masamune rolled his eyes. As a brother, he snapped back, “I promise, you can.”

“Gross, why the fuck would I trade with you now—!?”

Downstairs, their mother shouted, “Who is swearing up there!?” Kojiro paled. Masamune, bolstered with smug elder brother energy, kicked him from the ladder. 

“Move, punk! Run for your life! You fucked up!”

His mother, louder now. “Who said that?!”

“That was Masa!” Kojiro bellowed, fleeing the scene of the crime. “Masa said it that time!”

“That time!? Kojiro—!”

Masamune finally wriggled himself free from the narrow confines of the loft. On the way down, he pocketed the picture of Her. 

---

The only reason he remembered the day his dad bought the ‘85 Camaro was his mother was well and truly pissed about it. It wasn’t a pretty looking thing then. Masamune later sussed out that his dad had picked it off a side road out in the country because it was ‘a nice looking car’ and ‘could be fixed up’. Of course it could. Maybe it was his time in the military, but there wasn’t a damn car under the sun that his dad couldn’t fix. The Camaro was better than new, but his mom drove a newer Hyundai, so it sat neglected in the garage, shiny and electric blue and begging for a test run. When Masamune backed it into the driveway, his mother sighed ragged. 

“I ought to sell that thing,” she announced. 

Masamune bit back his reflex answer of ‘not on my watch’ and replied, “Kojiro’s gonna need a car when he can drive.”

“I’m going to get him something new. A nice car. That one is too old for anything now.”

“I could take it.”

“You already have that infernal death trap.” She thumbed at the Harley parked in the grass, right where she hated it most. In the name of getting along, neither of them had mentioned it. “You don’t need another car payment. Besides, don’t you have anything better to do right now? We have all sorts of things to settle with your dad’s estate.”

“Ma, the car is paid off.” But she was right in one way; he did already have a vehicle, and paying the taxes and insurance on both was a waste. It was sort of pointless, keeping the car in the garage forever. “I can’t do anything until I get the extra copies of his death certificate, and that’s gonna be a minute. I ordered them today. Did you want me to put the car on Craigslist or something?”

She gazed at it, her steel expression softening. Ah, yes. There was his mother. His parents loved each other dearly. It just took moments like this to remember it. 

“Would you?” She replied. Her feather soft voice broke his heart. “I can’t bear to do it.”

“Yeah, Ma. I’ll get it to a good home.”

---

All it really needed was a wash and an oil change. The guys at the auto parts store whistled enviously when they handed over the filters. No; it wouldn’t be hard to sell at all. No doubt he could post it on some Reddit forum and get a hundred hits in an hour. 

Masamune was about to post the listing when fate intervened. 

The driveway was warm on his bare back, the first chill wind of autumn cooling his shoulders. His phone was stark against the sharp blue sky, his shirt rolled under his hair. 

A shadow fell over him. “Masa?”

He blinked his only good eye, floundering against the sudden contrast. The woman murmured an apology, stepped away, and blinded him with sunlight again. 

“Hey!” He laugh-yelped, rolling onto his stomach. “Goddamn!”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He clutched at the Camaro’s bumper and pulled himself up, blinking sundots away. “Gimme a sec, hang on.”

And then—she swam into view, all bright eyes and curves and nothing like she used to be and everything like she used to be and so much better. Was this his friend, this fully grown woman with a face like all his best memories? Where his words? He was usually so good with them. 

“That you, Masamune?” She asked, the ghost of a smile on her mouth. 

“Well, hell.” SAY SOMETHING, YOU STUPID BASTARD. He forced a grin back—but then it arrived all on its own. “Wow. Damn. Where have you been this whole time, Kitten, Hollywood? You runnin’ everyone out of a job out there? Puttin’ those Hadids out of work?”

Her laugh was the same. Good God, it sent shivers all the way down his spine and into his toes. Her eyes crinkled and he wondered if he could bottle that expression. “You’re still calling me Kitten, huh?”

“Your fault for wearing cat socks all the time. I don’t see a reason to stop now, ‘specially now that you blinded me in my own driveway.”

Even her eye roll was a shot of nostalgia to the veins. What now? Did he shake hands? Masamune stared at his oil-slicked palms from changing the filter. “Well, if you don’t mind me smearing grease all over you… Shit, what am I asking for?”

“Oh my God, Masamune, do not rub motor oil on me!”

“Too late!” He charged forward. She squealed but didn't run; he caught her around the waist and squashed her against him, bringing her feet from the ground. Those eyes were wide with surprise and delight and so much joy. Something smelled of cinnamon and cloves. “God, is that your shampoo?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s great. You look great.”

She batted against his chest, wriggling in his grasp. “And you bulked up. What, you one of those CrossFit junkies or something now?”

“C’mon, don’t insult me like that. Their form is terrible.”

“And you ditched the glass eye.”

“It was hurting. Figured I might as well let the lid close up and deal with it. Not like I could see from it anyway.”

But she laced her hands around the back of his neck and tapped just above his brow. Such easy physical intimacy. Oh, how he’d missed that! They’d always been the most handsy of the friend group, never shying away from each other. “I wasn’t complaining. You rock the pirate look, Captain.” 

Masamune snickered and clicked his tongue. “I’ll own that. I love some booty.”

With a roll of her eyes, she let the comment slide. “You busy? Wanna catch up?”

At last he let her slide from his arms, setting her feet on the ground. Why was the world so much colder when her body parted from his? “Hell yeah. Let me make you some gyoza and we’ll chat.”

[miss-tc-nova]

The Cat’s Meow - Jumin Han x Fem!Reader Pt 8

Sooooooooo....Bonus chapter? Yes? No? Maybe? I’ve got about 3 weeks worth of content scheduled so I’m debating a one-shot/bonus. We’ll see. Until then, we’re almost halfway through with chapter 8! Enjoy!

Part 8: Comforts for a Bad Day

                The front door slams shut behind me. I’m in a foul mood and I’ll be damned if the whole neighborhood doesn’t know it at this point. Peeling off my wet clothes in favor of something drier, I grab my favorite pair of shorts only to find that the dryer had eaten a hole in them and they are now useless. So I have to settle for sweats.

                I start dinner, just trying to make something simple and quick. I make the mistake of stepping out of the room for just a few minutes, when I come back, I’m greeted with fire. Trying not to panic but cussing all the way, I jam a metal lid over the pan and turn the stove off. I keep an eye on the thing for well over an hour before I was even brave enough to open it again and, thankfully, it’s out. However, I have to find something new for dinner, but I’m so angry and fed up that I just flop on the sofa.

                With a click, I turn on the TV and put a random show on in the background. When I’m0 finally calm enough to attempt dinner again, everything goes black.

                “You’ve got to be kidding meeeEEEEEEEEE!” I shout. No electricity means no heating up food, no TV or laptop, and no light for just about anything else. I lay in the darkness, hungry and in a seething fury, face first into the sofa.

                My phone starts to meow, meaning it can only be one of two people. My hand slaps across the floor before I find the device and bring it to my ear.

                ‘Hello?’ comes across much more muffled through the fabric of my couch.

                “_____?”

                ‘Hi Jumin’ isn’t any clearer.

                “_____, are you okay?” I don’t give an answer. “_____?!”

                Rolling over, I heave the biggest sigh. “Hi Jumin.”

                “Don’t scare me like that,” he sighs. “Are you alright? You don’t sound too thrilled to talk to me.”

                I grumble, “It’s fine. What’s up?”

                “Seriously. What’s wrong?”

                “Just a bad day…How was your day? Did your presentation for the cat hotel go well?”

                “I ended up postponing it. Do you want to talk about your day?”

                “Not really.”

                “Come on, _____. Tell me about it.”

                Groaning, I sit up. “My stupid phone didn’t charge last night so my morning alarm never went off and I was late for work. My clients were furious, which is understandable. Later, I had a dog bite me and the owner said it was my own fault.”

                “That doesn’t sound right.”

                “I refused to work with his dog without a muzzle which he refused and left without paying for the work that I DID do and scattering all the stuff on the counter on the floor. Shortly after that, a sick cat came in and, after giving my diagnosis, I was told that I’m a money hungry idiot who has no idea what I’m doing. I don’t think that poor cat will make it another year. People in general have been so rude today.”

                “Those people haven’t a clue what they’re talking about. You’re the best vet that I’ve ever come across and plenty of your clients have given your clinic high ratings.”

                “I know, but those people still pissed me off. And I worked right through lunch to catch up on my late appointments, but at least Yoosung was nice enough to share his lunch with me.”

                “When did Yoosung start working with you?”

                “Not long after your birthday. He’s smart.”

                “I agree. As long as he’s not stuck in his video games.”

                “I left my wallet at home so I couldn’t buy anything when I finally got off work, which I didn’t find out until I was already in line to buy something. Then it started raining shortly after I started walking home so I was drenched, I’ll be surprised if I don’t get sick. I almost set my house on fire trying to make food.”

                “What?!”

                “I had a grease fire. And now the electricity is out and I have no food in the cupboards unless I’d like to eat raw pasta.”

                He hums on the other end. “You’re right. You have had a rough day.”

                “Yep. Sucks,” I grumble. “Hmm, I might have string cheese in the fridge.”

                “_____, I have to go. Something just came up.”

                “Oh, okay,” I mutter.

                “Everything will be alright. You’re strong. I know you are.”

                A small smile crosses my lips. “Thanks Jumin. Talk to you later.”

                “Goodbye.”

                I stare at the picture of the man in cat ears from his birthday party for a moment before a loud meow stabs at my silent pondering.

                “Yeah, okay. Dinner time Mako,” I announce, heading into the kitchen to find the cat food to feed my animal. Afterwards, I go rummaging through my cupboards in search of something decent to eat. I stare at the open cupboards from my kitchen table trying to come up with something.

                My doorbell goes off.

                “Oh geeze. What now?” I hiss, heading for the front door. Pulling the entrance open, I stare at the dark figure for a moment. “Jumin?”

                “Hurry now. Eat up before it gets cold,” he orders, shoving something warm into my hands and ushering me inside.

                “Huh?! What the heck is this? What are you doing here?”

                “From the sounds of it, you haven’t eaten much, so I had my chef make you something.” He holds up a bag. “And I brought light.”

                “You can keep those if they’re candles,” I grumble. “Knowing my luck, one would tip over and burn my house down. I don’t need a second fire today.”

                He looks into a bag. “Um, more like lanterns. But I need to put the batteries in.” He moves to the next bag. “And I don’t personally care for them, but I heard that girls like sweets, especially when they’re sad, and I wasn’t sure which you like best so I got several different ones.”

                “I know I didn’t eat a lot today, but are you trying to make me fat?” I laugh. The sweet gesture, even if coming from such an awkward man not entirely comfortable with his feelings, seems to melt all the troubles of the day away.

                “Of course not. I’m trying to make you feel better.” He pushes me towards the couch. “Now go eat.”

                I sit on the couch, watching the rich heir fumble with batteries in a lantern. It’s clear that this wasn’t anything he’s had to deal with before, but the simple fact that he’s here, trying to cheer me up makes me happy inside.

                Opening the take-out box, I find something much fancier than I expected.

                “Holy crap. This is probably worth more than everything I’ve eaten all week combined.”

                Jumin frowns at me. “Really? Perhaps I should have my driver deliver you lunch every day.”

                “N-No no! Don’t do that,” I scold. “I told you, I can take care of myself.”

                “I know,” he sighs. “But sometimes I wish you’d just let me do something for you.”

                “Why? Couldn’t you use the money to pamper Elizabeth instead?”

                “I could. She’s…She’s very important to me. She was a gift from my two best friends and I’ve often believed that she was the only who truly understood me.” The man looks into the darkness, as if he’s remembering something. “I always thought that emotions were useless to me, allowing me to be taken advantage of by people who just wanted to get close to me for my money.”

                “I mean, a lot of people probably did that,” I reply, poking the food around the plate. “You were just protecting yourself.”

                “That’s true, but I’ve come to realize that perhaps I took it a little too far. Still, it’s not like any of those efforts mattered once I met someone who didn’t care about my status in life; once I met you.” Those dark eyes sparkle as he turns to me.

                I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                With a roll of his eyes, he smiles. “I can’t help but be a little happier when I see you.”

                “Aww, just a little?” I tease. Deep down, I pray he doesn’t notice the effect his words have on my insides, turning me to mush.

                “Alright, my entire day can turn around when you’re part of it. I guess that’s why I felt I had to drop everything to come over tonight.”

                “Oh god. Please tell me you didn’t traumatize poor Jaehee just to come see me.”

                “She’s…currently dealing with the board of directors I left hanging,” he says with a smirk.

                “Wow! Jumin, that so irresponsible!” I shout, unable to hide my smile.

                “Couldn’t help it. Someone important needed me.”

                I feel suddenly warmer beneath Jumin’s gentle gaze. The temperature skyrockets when an arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me in. A soft kiss grazes my temple.

                “I should really stop distracting you. You need to eat.”

                We make light conversation before I start digging through the bag of sweets. The man had brought them for me and I’m not going to let them go to waste.

                “Ooo, Starbursts!” I rip open the yellow packaging. “Hah, they say that if you put the whole thing in your mouth and unwrap it without tearing the wrapper, you’re a good kisser.”

                “Oh really? Are you?”

                I shrug. “I dunno. I don’t really believe in stuff like that, but it’s fun to do.” I pop a pink one into my mouth, working the wrapper off with my teeth and tongue before pulling it out. “See?”

                “Let me see.”

                Without warning, Jumin leans in, cupping my face in his hands. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as his lips press against mine. The last time we had kissed, Jumin hadn’t been himself and I had forgotten just how soft his lips were; I had forgotten how much I enjoy his kiss.

                The man pulls away with a soft smile. “I suppose I may not be the best judge, but I think it was a good kiss.”

                My blushing face lets a smile slip. “Wow. Thanks for the very in-depth observation.”

                “Anytime.”

                Jumin and I casually share the sweets and the conversation. The atmosphere is warm and comfortable here in my little apartment, completely different than the last time we kissed or from my day earlier. I could spend forever like this, alone with him.

~~~~~

                I gasp softly, reaching out to snatch my phone off the coffee table to turn off the alarm. Cracking my neck, I sit up and the couch beneath me moves.

                Moves?

                Looking down, I find that I’m sitting on Jumin and no tomato could compare to my face. His eyelashes flutter as he blinks the sleep away. Looking up at me, a light chuckle escapes him.

                “What’s that look for?”

                “Y-You fell asleep here?”

                The man pushes himself up, putting his face extremely close to mine. “Of course. You looked so peaceful that, as a pillow, I couldn’t disturb you.”

                In an attempt to hide my embarrassment and shock, I put a hand to my face. “Could you be anymore shameless?”

                Jumin presses a kiss to my forehead. “If that’s what you’d like.”

                Regaining my composure, I shove the man back down on the couch, leering over him. Meeting his expectant gaze, I just want to make out with him desperately. I want everything to just leave us alone and let me express how I feel about him.

                But do I deserve him?

                It’s the same question I had asked myself the last time we spent a night together. I wish I hadn’t thought of it because now I’m resisting every urge to just be happy with him right here, right now. I grip at his shirt desperately.

                “_____? What’s wrong?”

                Sighing, I get to my feet, removing myself from him. “You were wrong.”

                “What?”

                I look down at my phone, looking for an excuse. “Oh crap. I gotta get ready for work. Um, thank you, for last night. It wasn’t such a bad day after all.”

                He smiles, standing up. “No problem. I’m glad I was able to make you feel better.”Now he glances at his phone and sighs. “Assistant Kang is not going to be happy with me.”

                “You’re going to send that woman to an early grave,” I tease.

                “I guess I’d better head home to prepare for my meeting.”

                “Probably a good idea.”

                I bid Jumin goodbye and watch his car drive away. The false smile slides from my face the further away he gets.

                “You were wrong,” I repeat. “I do care about your status. You deserve more than me.”

[kaoarika]

I rarely do written posts in Tumblr anymore because I am still figuring out how this new UI works in general (and there might be still be some bugs about writing posts + leaving them on drafts + publishing them accidentally as well), and tbh, between the past two months have been sorta chaotic and very mentally draining (besides some work I have been doing) and me attempting to think around some of my few active fandoms... well, haven’t had an eureka moment where I sit and write what I think about stuff.

So, let’s talk about some “stuff”.

Some days ago, I accidentally noticed by PURE CHANCE that some of the completed webtoons I was going to “eventually read” in LINE were going to get “locked”/converted  for Daily Pass. I mean, tbf, I knew that they were going to stick to this plan since past October, but it seems they really went full force this month (they only “locked” like a couple of series back then). And it’s exactly how I thought they would do so - popular series that have been already completed, old and recent.

I’m not going to complain about “Daily Pass” because I do have some thoughts about that and the fact they could use another model than just readers farming/buying coins, but, what do you do, especially since lots of these series are PRETTY long (140+ chapters long)?

My complaint does come from that, as a web user, I found this by pure chance, despite them saying they would announce what series would be locked in a 30-day advance notice. Because there’s no apparent indicator in the main page about THIS (The only Notice/News detail you see down below the page is about Canvas creators). Heck, I don’t think they even tell you about it in their mail newsletter, which kinda suck :))).

So, anyway.

I checked and, yes, a couple of VERY old series I was interested in reading were/are going to get locked. Problem, like I mentioned? THEY are pretty long! I know I can binge read as much as I want, but I cannot make miracles like reading over 100 chapters (if one series, try thinking about 2 or 3 -  I WAS NOT GOING TO DO THIS) in less than 12 hours! ESPECIALLY if those series were going to get locked THIS WEEK.

FML.

...anyway crisis was averted when I had to let go some interesting series that I may would get my way to read them (if there is a new buying/rental model they would apply) in the future... BUT I did read stuff I was curious or wanted to read... and mainly old stuff that I was willing to eventually finish one day.

Opinions on those series?

Okay, as brief and spoiler free as possible:

Untouchable: A story about modern-day vampires that instead of drinking blood, they have evolved to absorb the energy of their preys. This one is a romantic series about Sia, a vampire model and this human guy who has a very deep microphobia, and she puts her eyes on him when she realizes that his energy is like none she has tasted before. But, again, dude has microphobia (that is more or less controlled as time goes on).

I stopped reading this one for a while because  I was sorta smelling love triangle from a jealous friend of hers that OBVIOUSLY didn’t want to be looked as “just a friend”, lol. Like “how would this get solved”, kind of thing in your typical romance stuff. But then, last week I retook it... and it wasn’t as bad... but it leaks typical shoujo stuff/problems that become a newer obstacle as time goes on and on (misscomunication, lack of trust, overprotective family ANNOYINGLY hurting their own offspring, sudden deux ex machina...?). So, I think it finished fine... But man, I was so pissed off in how some stuff was managed at the end, lmao. Especially the way a “villain” was redeemed? I know that they say “karma is a b*tch”, but, DUDE KILLED PEOPLE BEFORE!? and you redeem him in a “lol, you will find out how love will make you feel” LIKe, DUDE, WHAT THE HELL. DON’T REDEEM HIM LIKE THAT.

Ghost Wife: I started reading this series in an unofficial manner a long while ago, but I supposed that the first chapters are pretty slow and it didn’t catch me on in the first place. It’s about a girl that starts seeing ghosts/spirits, and there’s this one that becomes WAY too attached to her, that offers her two options: either been eaten/killed or agreeing to be his wife. Given the title of thise series, you might wonder she accepted the second one

My lesson? Should have kept reading. The story picks up when other ghostly creatures are introduced and they start interacting with the main female character and her “ghost husband”, especially since this ghost cannot really imitate human interaction and his solution is “hypnotizing” everyone so he can “normally” fit. And the interaction between those two becomes more gracious and natural. You can feel that she likes being with him, despite the dangers of attracting ghosts that might kill her and all that. Heh.

Other lesson I had is that: the artist isn’t EXACTLY well into action scenes and some other details (but their ghostly creatures’ designs are TERRIFYING), so, I thought “well, I know there are other artists like this in the webcomic/webtoon environment, I shouldnt be too worried about my art once I get done with mine, right?

Also, some details started to make sense later on. And I cried like a baby in some moments, as well. Don’t have too many complaints, though. Perhaps more obvious “falling in love” moments... but then I realized that some actions speak lots better than words.

About Death: And speaking of “crying like a baby”, this one. This is a very old work, and it’s a gem, and it’s short, to top! And HECK, the art was AMAZING. Very touchy, and it makes you think. There’s quite a lot of South Korean webtoons that have made me cry because... they really make you think a LOT about stuff... especially about life and death.

Oh! Holy: Story about a shy and lonely loveable dork that is in love of his childhood friend, and that they eventually find each other in high school. Said childhood friend is idolized in school (but she is... hmmm... a dork as, well). Oh, he sees ghosts. OH, and she dies within the first three chapters accidentally :3. Shenanigans happen.

I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS ONE. SURE, it’s another shoujo but WAY less dramatic than Untouchable, because this was comedy (so, a rom-com!). And this one made me want more and more to read it. The characters all had an amazing personality, chemistry and their interactions were FUN AS HELL. The author seems to have my my sense of (dumb) humor, and the art was too attractive and knew where it should bright.

I don’t think I have too many complaints about this one. I may have felt unsatisfied in some minor stuff, but everything else felt “okay” to me, in general. 

A couple of things, though: localization and some quality stuff relating to translation in this series. I cannot judge the translation, but I do think it could have handled more quality checking on this one or proofreading, I’m not sure. I know that these (licensed and translated) series come in a weekly basis, but they REALLY need to pay more $$$ to their own staff to not let this stuff happen THAT frequent.

Localization is a bit of an issue I do HAVE though, and it is the same as in “Ghost Wife” and some other recent Korean series they have licensed in the recent past: Why using English-localized names, though? SURE, they retain their original last Korean names... but... why don’t keep their FULL NAMES, I wonder? I mean, weren’t we supposed to be over that kind of stuff already (videogames, JPN anime, manga other foregin stuff)? Is it because marketability? And/or because some names are “puns” that couldn’t easily be translateable in other languages? 

If it’s the latter, I think the same is applied in other regional language localization, like, in Spanish, original English language “Axed” is called “Natacha la del Hacha” and you cannot wonder how it crawls over my skin. I know this series is BUILT ON and is full of puns (as I am following it)... but... “Axelia” is a much more cooler name than “Natacha”... :I or so I THINK? Don’t take me too seriously...

In “Ghost Wife” I get it, you have spiritual creatures... their “human” names are puns of what they really are, and these words MAYBE don’t have too much meaning in English or Spanish or whatever... but... its a bit... glaring... when the main cast has English first names... and then you have a side character called... I dunno, “Soyeon” :I. or Haetae (a creature that didn’t have a human character name...) or, heck, characters that never appear again like... there was this “Damien” dude that for some reason, his name is slipped a couple of times as “Suho” (I wonder, his original name). But, then, you have people named “Liz”, “Drake”, “Sarah”, “Nathan” ????

I suppose that in “Oh! Holy” that might be the case, too. The original Korean name of the series is “오!주예수여” that is translated as “Oh! Lord Jesus”, because Holy in Korean is named “Yesu”. And, *sigh* I think that says enough. The pun STILL works... but :’))

But at the same time, I think my thing with the English localized names in “Oh! Holy” is that they are... blatantly boring and I don’t think they fit their faces. At all. But, maybe that’s me? (I mean, the “ultimate” reaper is called Norman. NORMAN.) Like I said, they still keep their original Korean last names... but... ugh.

(this is coming from someone who gave two of her characters very not obvious Spanish names given that they are Mexican, but I do have some valid cultural and VERY obvious explanations about those...)

Also - I don’t get LINE Webtoon’s selectiveness in this localization decision. Some of the South Korean series they bring, they do KEEP their original full names (see “A Good Day to be a Dog”, “Ghost Teller”, heck, the afforementioned “Untouchable”), but then you have stuff like “Oh! Holy”, “Ghost Wife”, “Scorching Romance”, “Mom, I’m Sorry!” or “Lookism”... ?????

And, this is very blatant annoying because a) K-Pop is HUGELY global mainstream nowadays and you can hear/read fans screaming their NAMES?! And 2) K-dramas are also pretty popular these days??? 

?????? 

*LONG SIGH*

There’s a few series that I want to check out, but I still have some more days for that to happen (heck, even a bit of more than a week). But, it SURE DOES suck that most of the interesting series I had my eyes on all were going to get locked this WEEK. :))))

[a-dakhtar]

I absolutely ADORED that Thor and Tony fic. Any chance I can prompt you into showing us that 3k you mentioned?

anon is referring to this fic where thor and a kid!tony somehow end up in Jotunheim and have to make their way out of it. also, anon, maaaaybbe just a little bit of the 3k. maybe. (edit: I think mobile is messing with coding - sorry if you're on mobile!)

> prompt rules: here

> prompt 1 / prompt 2 / prompt 3

prompt 4: fimbulvetr

-

“Wait, they’re what?” Steve’s tiny voice echoed through the line, sounding shocked and pleased. “They’re really back? Both of them?”

“Yup,” Clint popped, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, phone lodged in between ear and shoulder as he distractedly fiddled with an arrowhead. “Hale and healthy. Thor looks a bit mountain-man-ish, but then again he rocks the look so it’s not really that detracting for him, the lucky shit.”

“And Tony?” Steve asked breathlessly, the sound of fists hitting bodies and grunts of fighting clearly audible in the background thanks to the superiority of Stark phones. “He’s okay too?”

“Eeeh,” Clint wavered, making a so-and-so motion with his head as he kept staring at the image before him. “Kinda? He’s fine, sort of, just…”

“Just what, Clint?” Steve demanded, the whistle of his shield being thrown like a damn boomerang adding urgency to his question. “What’s wrong with Tony?”

Staring at their recently lost and found teammates, Clint wondered how exactly he should answer.

The little kid masquerading as Tony stared back at him from beneath dark curly bangs.

Weird.

“Uuh, not gonna lie, Cap, this is pretty damn weird. Ever wondered how Tony looked when he was, I dunno, how the hell old is he even, three? He looks like he’s barely out of diapers.”

An insulted look passed across the kid’s face, but rather than speak his mind like the- the- the real Tony would have, he just buried his face in Thor’s knee. As if that wasn’t weird enough, it was Thor – big, fluffy, puppy Thor – that turned angry, and in a low, threatening, voice said, “I would watch your tongue, friend Barton. Anthony deserves none of your ire.”

Barton, Clint mouthed to Natasha, bewildered. Since when the hell did a simple question warrant the surname threat?

“Did- did you just say three?”

Oh, right, Steve.

He’d forgotten about him for a moment.

“Look, just- aren’t you wrapping up your mission by now? Shit, I thought you’d be done with it years ago, what the hell is Barnes doing? Filing his nails?” Clint complained, eyes still trained on the little boy using Thor as a shield. Damn, the kid was way too small, Clint hadn’t been kidding about the three year old thing – or the diapers. “How long until you’re due back, anyway?”

An aggravated sigh came over the line, followed with an irritated, “You can’t just tell me something happened to Tony, mention three years old and diapers in the same sentence, and then completely change the topic, Clint, jeez. We’re finishing up here, just some stragglers- oh, no, they’re down. We’re finished. Now can you please just tell me what’s wrong with Tony?”

Clint got an idea.

“Better I just show you,” he said, pleased with his own quick thinking. “Hey, Jarv, be a doll and send Cap a good pic of the kid, arc reactor ‘n all.”

Strangely enough, the kid perked up at that, curiously looking around the common floor’s living room as if searching for someone. He jumped a little at JARVIS’, “Very well, Agent Barton. The appropriate camera still has been sent.”

Now the kid looked confused, peering everywhere for where the voice had come from, and strangely enough even looked to the ceiling.

Huh, Clint thought to himself curiously, nobody ever thought to look to the ceilings. A quick glance at a leaving Natasha showed that she was impressed herself. Good thing neither of them had ever been sent to assassinate Tony, then. He’d have sussed them out quickly if ceilings were within his realm of paranoia.

“Oh, a file,” Steve beamed over the line, always happy to get anything, even from annoying advertisers. “Let’s see, press here and- oh, I got the picture! Is that-”

A new voice called from the background, the familiar tone of Barnes quickly growing louder as he probably came up to wherever Steve was.

“-is going on?” Clint heard dimly.

“Thor and Tony came back!” Steve told his best friend happily. “Clint called to tell me. They’re fine, apparently, though something happened to Tony.”

“Look at the picture,” Clint urged, growing excited at the thought of their reaction. “Jarv, record the rest of this conversation, please, it’s gonna be freakin’ amazing, I can just feel it.”

“He says look at the picture,” Steve related, “I hope Tony’s alright, come here Buck, let’s see… There’s Thor, and… a kid? Why is Thor with a kid? A boy? That’s strange- wait. Clint, is that a blue glow coming from the boy’s chest? Clint? Why is there a blue glow coming from- Oh my god, three years old and not even out of diapers, Clint, tell me that isn’t Tony!”

Snickering at Barnes’ echoing surprise in the background, Clint caught the kid in question suspiciously peering at him, and jokingly made a face at him. Mini-Tony jerked back in surprise, made a confused face, and buried his head back into Thor’s side. Thor seemed completely unbothered by the little leech, but then again, if what he’d said was true so far, the two had spent up to four months in close contact with each other and nobody else. Long enough time to get more than friendly with one another.

“He’s… sort of cute,” Steve said then, bringing Clint up short. “Look at his fluffy hair and big eyes, aaaw, little fella must be terrified.”

Was Steve serious?

“Let me guess,” their Captain continued, “Amora’s spell did this? But why did she turn Tony into a kid? Heck, what did she do to them both in the first place?”

“Apparently it was a location spell, a bid to try and get Thor away from us so she could probably get him all to herself. But it went wrong because Tony thought it’d be hilarious to jump in like he always does, so they ended up in some realm or other and Tony ended up a kid.” Clint explained, running a hand through his short hair. “Bruce is checking his blood for his own peace of mind, but we’re mostly sure it’s Tony. Otherwise it’s some random kid that scarily looks like Tony at the same age with the same arc reactor in his chest.”

“Alright,” Steve sighed, “We’ll be there in a few hours and call a team meeting to try and figure out what to do to get him back to adulthood.”

Clint clucked his tongue, spied the kid peeking up at him from Thor’s side at the sound, and said, “Apparently, all we have to do is wait it out. Thor’s words. And since this is magic, he’s our residential expert and what he says goes.”

Steve sighed again, but this time in relief. “Thank goodness. Then we’ll just take care of the little guy for as long as he’s with us. Have you called Fury? Pepper?”

“Natasha’s doing it now.”

“Good. Try not to let Fury anywhere near the kid, please. I’d rather avoid terrifying the poor guy.”

Still eyeing the small child, Clint wondered at the red cape wrapped snuggly around his body, at the broad shoulders and firm countenance of the Thunder God, at the fact that they’d apparently spent four months in some realm where frost giants were totally a thing.

Clint had seen a lot of strange things in his life – most of them terrifying – but frost giants were not one of them.

Poor kid already looked terrified.

“Yeah, sure.” He said instead, blatantly staring at the little heap of red cape and dark hair on the opposite sofa. “Got it.”

Just as he hung up, Natasha walked back into the room, Pepper’s tap tap tapping of heels hailing her arrival as well. The two women entered the room like they were on the warpath, and both of them looked pissed.

“Fury has officially been ordered to release Tony Stark into the care of the WSC,”

Natasha bluntly announced, coming to a stop besides Clint. “He’s delaying them as we speak.”

“And Stark Industries has officially informed the WSC that they’ll have Tony Stark over my dead body,” Pepper finished succinctly, hair and eyes taking on the faint orange glow of Extremis. “We can ultimately keep them off for as long as we can, especially if we go drastic and take this public, but they can destroy us by simply labelling us a terrorist organisation and having us legally branded as criminals. So we need another preventive measure to stop them.”

Thor huffed a laugh, grabbing all their attention, and simply said, “None shall take him, for he is under my protection. Have your pitiful council know that Asgard and Stark Industries have anointed Avengers Tower as the embassy of the realm of Asgard, and any trespassers on Asgardian land shall be dealt with most swiftly. If they attempt anything further, then know that I, the crown prince of Asgard, will officially give you all political asylum from their pathetic grasp.”

Pepper blinked once, cleared her throat into the ensuing silence, and said, “That… would very much work. Thank you, Thor.”

“Where the hell did you even learn about that?” Clint demanded, bewildered at the calm Aesir in front of him. “Seriously? Embassies? Political asylum? I’m pretty sure Asgard doesn’t even know what either of those things are.”

"Friend JARVIS is kind enough to teach me of your realm’s way of life, friend Clint." Thor shrugged, as if his knowing how to loophole the judiciary system of the entire planet wasn't huge. "Anthony and I spoke much about what to do in the chance a situation like this would arise."

Pepper pulled a face as she took her own seat, kicking of her high heels with a relieved sigh. "Is that why Tony would always tell me we could run off to

Asgard whenever something went wrong?"

Chuckling, Thor grinned at her - looking more like the usual happy-go-lucky Thor rather than the strange solemn one he'd been only moments before.

Then Clint heard a small voice say, "Ja'vis?"

The room went deathly silent.

Surprisingly, JARVIS broke the silence with a calm yet curious, “Yes, sir?”

The child looked around, dark brows furrowed over intelligently wary eyes, and said, “Whe’e are you?”

Eyeing Natasha for some sort of hint of what the hell was happening – since when would athree year old Stark know JARVIS? – Clint tightened his fingers on the arrowhead as JARVIS carefully replied, “I am wired into the building, sir. As I am wired into many other locations that you own.”

Tiny Tony’s eyes widened dramatically, something like horror flashing over his face as he blurted out, “No! A’e you-? Did Dad make you a robot?”

Pepper shrugged at the looks they all shot her, looking just as confused and worried as the rest of them. But this time, it was Thor that spoke up. He bent closer to the small child, putting a wide palm on the boy’s shoulder, and said in a low voice they could only barely make out, “This is not the Jarvis you know, little one. He is a different Jarvis.”

Little Tony huffed a huge exhale in relief, looking almost close to tears as he clutched at Thor. “Whe’e Ja’vis then? Why he not here? Whe’e Mama? Dad? You said you take me home!”

Clint stared at the grief-stricken expression that flashed across Thor’s face, stared as the mighty thunderer bent further towards the tiny boy and fervently begged said, “I shall! I shall take you home just as I said I would! But you must give me a little while longer, a few days to regain my strength, yes? I must recuperate first, little one, but be confident that I have nothing but your wellbeing in mind.”

“… P’omise?” Little Tony hiccupped, wiping a tiny fist against a watering eye.

Thor gave a single nod, face set in grim determination as he stared the child in the eye and said, “I promise.”

The little child nodded, seemingly accepting the words for what they meant, and buried his head in Thor’s hip.

He refused to move from his spot for the rest of the day.

[jayascorner]

lights part 1

tyler joseph x reader

•

•

•

touring with many bands was the best thing that could ever happen to you. being a professional photographer made it so fun traveling around the world with many artists. especially if it’s your favorite artist or band. you’ve gotten to tour with panic! at the disco, fall out boy, twenty one pilots, my chemical romance when they were still together, and many more.

you recently got to go back on tour with twenty one pilots again, for their newest album. they know you fairly well, and vice versa.

[now this is just background information, let’s get to the story]

you’re meeting them at an airport, because they’re first stop is Nashville, Tennessee, conveniently where you live.

you arrive at the airport, kinda nervous since these guys are super popular and successful. i mean, you know them so it shouldn’t be that nerve racking.

they don’t show up for another 30 minutes, so you have some time to think this through.

ok. so i’ll say, “hey! long time no see! i mean if you remember me.” eww no that’s just cringy.

maybe.. “hi tyler and josh! wow it’s been so long i almost didn’t recognize you there.” nOPE no no no. what if they haven’t changed?

i could go like, “hey guys. i’m so sorry about the death of your grandfather, tyler.” okay no. we’re getting too personal here.

alright at this point ima just stick with improvising. yeah... watch me make a fool out of myself. ok now i’m nervous. this is gonna be-

“y/n l/n. that’s you right?”

oh there they are... shoot what do i say?

*i’m thinking....i’m thinking....*

oh yes time to put on my acting skills.

“uhhh yeah? who are you guys?” you ask, trying your best to sound bewildered by random people knowing your name.

“wha- you know who we are.” tyler says.

“maybe it’s been so long i didn’t recognize y’all... twenty one pilots right?” you start to ponder out loud, obviously acting.

josh laughs. “i think you should be an actor.”

“yeah, you got me. i was kidding.” you say.

tyler shoots josh a look of ‘how’d you do that?’

“what?” josh whispers.

“never mind.” tyler shakes his head.

you take some time to think of what to say next.

“so how have y’all been?”

they both take a seat at your bench.

tyler sighs. “oh y’know, i’ve been better. i had a pretty rough morning.”

“why?” you ask, growing more and more curious about his morning.

“well actually, he just hates getting up that early. he’s not used to it.” josh chimes in.

“yeah and i didn’t get my coffee.” he crosses his arms.

“now that sucks.” i point a finger in the air.

it really does.

josh laughs. “you don’t drink coffee, tyler.”

“oh you’re right! i don’t drink coffee.” tyler announces. josh just looks at him and facepalms.

“sorry y/n. he does this when he sees pretty girls.”

tyler laughs sarcastically.

“shut up josh.”

oh shoot he’s right. i’m pretty? he never acted like that last time...

~~time skeep

since you’re the one who drove out there to get them, you have to drive them to their bus.

“nice ride you got here.” tyler says as you hop in the driver seat of your jeep.

“thanks. any of y’all wanna sit in the passenger seat? or y’all good back there?”

“yeah we’re good.” josh replies.

they buckle up in the back, since nobody wants to neglect anyone alone in the backseat.

you guys get to catch up on your lives a little bit on the ride back, and you realize how much you’ve missed touring with them. they’re really cool dudes to be around. this is going to be an exciting 8 months. you thought to yourself. although tyler didn’t seem as talkative....

“is this it?” you ask, driving up to one of the tour buses in the area.

“yeah.” josh says. you guys hop out of the jeep.

you all get settled, and unpack your bags.

“this is by far, the nicest tour bus i’ve ever seen.” you say, astonished at how high quality it is.

“comes from the best.” tyler adds.

“yeah i can see that.”

since there’s really nothing to do, and it’s about an hour past one, you ask them if they want to eat.

“sure.” josh says.

“yeah i’m starving. is there a taco bell around here?” tyler asks, while the two of them look at you, knowing that you live here.

“well yeah, but there aren’t around this specific place.” you announce.

tyler purses his lips.

“how long?”

“oh i dunno,” you wave your hand in the air. “maybe half an hour.”

“i mean, i can go with you. tyler will wait here.” josh suggests.

“ok i guess that would work. what about you, tyler?” you ask him, to make sure he’s okay with that.

he shrugs, but then says sure.

“okay then, we’re gonna go now.”

~~~~

“so what does tyler eat here?”

josh shrugged, “anything, really. he loves all of their food. he wrote a whole saga about this place.”

oh. so he’s that person...

“oh so i’ll just call him.” you state to yourself.

you pull in to the driveway of the chain restaurants, and when you guys get to where taco bell is supposed to be, it’s as if it’s under reconstruction.

you stop the car.

“well crap.”

josh sighs. “yeah tyler’s gonna be pissed.”

you turn over to josh, “so...plan B?”

“yeah.”

you drive by in the nearest parking lot and park in one of the slots.

you pull out your phone from one of the cup holders.

“what’s tyler’s phone number?”

“you wanna contact him?” josh asks.

“well yeah, i’m gonna make a quick phone call.” you say.

he recites tyler’s phone number and you type it on your keypad.

ringggg

ringggggggg

ri-

“this is tyler joseph.”

“oh good josh gave me the right number.”

“who is this?”

“a complete stranger that found josh dun in a parking lot.”

josh chuckles at that.

“no seriously who is this?” he asks once more.

“it’s y/n.” you say with a eye roll.

“oh ok, can i have a cheesy gord-“

“no i’m not taking your order, taco bell’s under reconstruction.”

“oh great.” he mutters under his breath.

“do you like chipotle?” you ask, hoping his answer is yes.

“sure, y’all can get that instead. but just know, i’m suing.”

“no, tyler you’re not suing.”

“well i can because i’m-“

“nuh-uh just because you’re tyler joseph, does not mean you can sue taco bell.” you interrupt him.

“alright, mom.” he says jokingly.

“i ain’t ‘cho mom.” and with that, you hang up.

josh laughs a bit. “it’s a good thing you hung up, because he could’ve said something else.”

...what?

“what might that have been?” you ask, totally not having any idea as to what he’s hinting at.

“i don’t think i would like to specify.” he adds, as you turn around to drive out to chipotle.

“is it bad?”

he stays silent for a few seconds.

“no it’s not bad.....actually yeah it’s pretty bad.”

“oh. oh i think i know.” you say, once you get the idea. “is it the opposite of mom?”

“yeah.” he says with some guilt.

“oh that’s terrible. i thought he had a girlfriend.”

“no, actually he hasn’t had one since...geez i have no idea.” he chuckles.

“it’s been that long huh? that’s surprising. he’s kinda cute.”

he doesn’t say anything, so you guys sit there in silence for the rest of the drive.

you arrive at chipotle, since it was only a couple miles away.

“so what does he eat here?” you ask.

he tells you what tyler likes so you get an idea of what will satisfy him. after walking in the doors and fighting the line, it’s finally your turn to order.

“good afternoon, what would you like to start off with?” one of the employees says.

“hi, i would like a bowl, and a burrito as well because i’m ordering for someone else.”

“sure thing ma’am. would you like rice?” he recites, well used to taking people’s orders.

“yes please.”

“brown or white?”

“uh...” you look at josh for any preference. he mouths ‘white’.

“white please.” you smile friendly.

“alright, ma’am. now do you want the same for your bowl?”

“actually i’ll have brown rice in the bowl, thank you.” you say as politely as possible.

“now what would you like, ma’am?” he asks again.

“uh may i have some chicken in the bowl and in the burrito as well?”

he nods and does exactly what you asked.

“and some black beans in the bowl, and pinto in the burrito.”

“yes ma’am.”

“extra pico with red chili salsa in the burrito , and guac in the bowl. and also lettuce and extra cheese in both.” you finish.

the employee is finishing your order while you wait for the rest. josh is almost done with his while you get to the cashier with the food.

“would you like a drink with this, ma’am?” the lady asks.

“yes please, may i have a water and a soft drink?”

she hands you the cups, and you say thank you.

she gives you the total and then you pay.

after a few moments she gives you the card back. “thank you ma’am, have a nice day!”

“thank you so much! you too.”

you grab the food and the cups and head to the soda dispenser.

josh follows a little bit after.

“too bad there isn’t any red bull.” he says, jokingly.

you laugh, “yeah, what should we get him?”

“maybe a coke or something.”

“ok cool.”

once everything is settled you leave and get back to the jeep.

to be continued...

[bittysvalentines]

Secret Admirers are for Chumps

From: @secretgeniusshittyknight

To: @wlwboomboom

“Oh, those are fancy. Tiger lilies?” Holster asked, popping his head into Ransom’s cubicle.

“Yeah. They’re my-”

“Favorite,” they said in unison.

“Jinx,” Holster said with a wink. “Who are they from?”

Ransom looked at the small card tucked into the bouquet of flowers. “It doesn’t say. Just says, ‘You are a wonderful person whose smile brightens my day.’ Nothing else.”

Holster reached over and tousled Ransom’s hair, not that it did anything; the tightly coiled curls were cropped too close to his scalp. “Sounds like someone has a secret admirer. That’s cute.”

Ransom shrugged. “If you say so. I hope they don’t like expect me to just date them because they sent me gifts.”

A flash of an indecipherable emotion washed across Holster’s face, but it vanished in an instant. And without another word, Holster left Ransom’s cubicle and went back to work.

For the rest of the day, Ransom tried to put the flowers out of his mind. Yet, his thoughts kept drifting back to his mysterious admirer.

***

“These are fucking fantastic. Oh my God, Holtz. You have to try one!” Ransom didn’t give Holster a chance to object before he snatched a truffle from the box and held it to Holster’s mouth. And if his fingers happened to brush Holster’s lips, well whoops. “Best damn chocolates I’ve ever had.”

Holster mumbled in appreciation, his mouth full of confection. “Mmhmm.” After a beat of silence wherein both of them finished chewing, he spoke, “Do these have a card too?”

Ransom nodded, handing the card over. This time, instead of a small note, there was a crudely drawn handmade card with a slice of pizza on it.

“‘You have a pizza my heart.’ That’s adorable.”

“Check the inside. There’s more.”

Holster read, “You deserve the world, but no one in the world deserves you, not even me. You are one of a kind.’ Well, that’s...something.”

Ransom rubbed the back of his neck. “Whoever they are, they have good taste and seem to know me well.”

Nodding as though deep in thought, Holster chuckled, “You think it’s someone at the office? What if it’s Agnes on the fifth floor?”

Ransom gave him a playful smack in the arm. “Agnes is like my grandmother. Calls me the grandson she never had. Not only do I doubt she thinks of me that way, but I pray she doesn’t.”

***

“Okay,” Ransom said, dropping a box on the kitchen table when he got home. It hit with a thud and made Holster, Shitty, and Lardo look over at him from what looked to be an intense game of Mario Kart. “This is getting ridiculous. First, it was flowers, then chocolates, then a six-pack of that limited edition porter from All Ahead Full. You know the one…”

“Iceberg?” Shitty said.

“No the other one.”

“Ah, Hard to Port,” Lardo chimed in.

“Yes, That’s the one. And let me tell you, it’s fucking amazing. Please, do yourselves a favor and try one.”

Holster stretched his arms high above his head with a yawn, making his shirt ride up. Ransom absolutely did not stare. Nope. He didn’t even glance in that direction. “But wasn’t it like fifty dollars a six pack? I remember we asked about it when they announced it.”

“I know right? These gifts are getting extravagant. It’s almost like they’re trying to buy my affection.”

Holster sank down into the cushions of the couch. “Maybe they wanted to get you nice things? But you’re right, probably trying to buy your love.”

Was that a hint of bitterness? Ransom was about to ask, but he noticed the television out of the corner of his eye just in time to see Holster’s race rank drop from first to seventh as a blue turtle shell crashed into him. Lardo...was ruthless when it came to Mario Kart. “It’s been a week and a half. Flowers, chocolates, movie tickets, beer, and so on. I have no idea who this is, but it’s getting to be a bit much.”

“Yeah,” Holster mumbled, then cackled as he got retribution on Lardo’s blue shell by rocketing across the finish line just ahead of her. “Ha! That’s what I call karma!”

“Incidentally, what’s in the box?” Shitty popped the cap of one of the aforementioned bottles of porter.

“Oh, it’s...a Bruins t-shirt. A Bobby Orr shirt. In the correct size mind you. I didn’t think people at work listened when I talked about hockey. Hey Holtzy,” he said without looking as he pulled the shirt out of the box, “can you remember who it was I was telling about my favorite team? Was it Mark or was it Daphne?”

“Uh yeah, I think Holster went to take a piss or...something.” Shitty stroked his mustache, looking suspiciously like a supervillain when he did so.

***

To his surprise, the next day’s gift from his secret admirer was far less extravagant than he was suspecting, just lunch from Jimmy John’s. His usual order. It was starting to look more and more like Daphne from two rows of cubicles over was his secret admirer. She’d joined a bunch of them on a lunch outing more than once. Unfortunately, there was no card this time.

As annoyed as he was that someone in his office had this much of a crush on him that they would spend so much money on gifts for him, he was also quite curious, a fact which he mentioned to Holster, Shitty, and Lardo over dinner that night. “I think it could be Daphne. I should talk to her tomorrow.”

“I think,” Holster said with an entirely too full mouth, “that is a terrible idea.”

“Why? I know I talked about hockey with her, she would know what I ordered on my sandwich. She’s gone to happy hour at All Ahead Full, so...like she would know these things I like. I’m going to ask her.”

Holster didn’t elaborate on why he thought it was a bad idea to simply ask Daphne upfront if she was his secret admirer. Perhaps after Ransom had relayed all his evidence, Holster agreed with him. However, he remained strangely quiet for the rest of the night.

***

“Well, as it turns out… Daphne is a lesbian. She thought it was adorable though that I was convinced- Wait, where’s Holster?”

Lardo gestured to the bathroom, “Shower.”

“I thought we were supposed to have a movie night.” Ransom rubbed his forehead. “No, wait. That was tomorrow.”

“So,” she said, looking over at him, “what’d’ya get today?”

He shook the Mason jar of pistachios at her, pink and red glitter flaking off and falling to the ground as he did so. “Whoever they are is apparently, and I am quoting verbatim, ‘Nuts about me’. I don’t particularly care for pistachios, but it’s a cute idea. I guess.”

“Ransom,” Lardo walked over and put her hand on his shoulder, “you were uncomfortable when they were fancier gifts of things you liked, and you are annoyed when it’s homemade gifts of things you don’t like. That…”

“Sounds spoiled. I know. It’s more that I just want to know who it is. It’s unnerving… starting to feel like a stalker. That’s all.”

She hummed in contemplation. “You want to know what I think?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I think… you already know who it is.”

“I knew it! It is Mark. So how do I tell the guy I am not interested in him? He’s...I don’t know...utterly boring. Nice, but boring and should have told me all this to my face. Dunno, it’s becoming kind of creepy if you ask me.”

Lardo rolled her eyes, “Real insightful there, bro. Is it creepy, or are you just annoyed that they’re not coming from the person you really want to send you gifts?”

“Wait-” he called to her retreating back. “What was that supposed to mean?”

***

Three more days of increasingly simple gifts before Ransom came into work to find only a pink envelope decorated in that same pink and red glitter as the jar of pistachios, the homemade snowglobe, and pizza card on his desk. Inside was a machine printed note that said, ‘ Sorry. I’ll stop. Didn’t mean to freak you out. I tried to tell you in person, but I chickened out… again like the coward I am.’ There was badly drawn chicken with a sad face at the bottom of the note, but no name.

Huh, well how about that?

Ransom got up from his desk to go relay the latest events in this secret admirer saga to Holster, only to find his desk empty, computer off.

“Looking for Holster? He was here for about five minutes. Looked miserable. Boss sent him home sick.”

What? Holster wasn’t sick. He’d seen the guy just this morning just before he walked into the bathroom. He looked fine, and even if he was sick, why hadn’t he said anything to Ransom? They usually played nurse for each other when under the weather.

Baffled, Ransom sat down at his desk and tried to work, but for the better part of the day, his mind was elsewhere.

***

When he walked through the door that afternoon, after feigning illness (and why shouldn’t he? If his roommate got sent home ill, it stood to reason that he might also have caught the same bug. A total lie of course, but a believable one), he found himself met with total silence. Perhaps Holster was sleeping, as well he should be, but Ransom knocked on his door just to check on him.

“Hey, Holtzy...can I get you anything?”

“No.”

“Are you sure. They said you looked like you felt terrible. Least let me come in and give you the cursory check.”

“No. It’s fine.”

“Which one of us took a crapton of biology classes?”

Inside Holster’s room, he heard rustling, but eventually, Holster came and opened the door. The first thing Ransom noticed were his red-rimmed eyes and puffy face. He’d been crying. That or he had the worst case of stuffy-cold-watery-eyes face (trademark pending) that Ransom had ever seen. He was about to ask what the matter had been when his eyes caught sight of a bag, the contents of which were spilling onto the floor as though it had been haphazardly stuffed under Holster’s desk.

This, in and of itself, wouldn’t be too noticeable, but the bag of pistachios, a package of glass jars, scraps of construction paper...and a container of Valentine’s Day themed glitter which had opened and poured out onto the carpet caught his attention. Caught it, and kept it.

Pieces of the puzzle all slotted into place. Lardo had been right; he was upset because someone had been giving him all those gifts and it bothered him...because they hadn’t been from Holster.

Or so he thought.

Holster followed his line of sight, and a panicked squeak the likes Ransom wouldn’t even have thought possible from him escaped his throat. Ransom turned to look at him, noticing all the color had drained from his face.

Holster swallowed hard, eyes wide as though he was staring into the headlights of an oncoming car. Ransom swore he could see all the thoughts racing around in his head.

“I-” he began, but stopped, turned, and flopped down on his bed face first, burying his face in his pillow. What followed next, on any other day, Ransom would say was just Holster being overdramatic, but today… Holster screamed, the pillow muffling most of the noise. Then, he groaned, “Just get it over with, Rans.”

Get what- Oh. “Well, you could have gone about it in a less...weird way.”

Holster rolled over onto his back, covering his face with an arm. “I thought people found the idea of a Secret Admirer romantic. Clearly, I was mistaken.”

“Was this all a joke?” Ransom had to be sure before he said anything else.

Holster peeked out from under his arm. “What? Why would you think that?” With a long suffering sigh, he said, “First, I was just going to get you flowers. Then waltz over and say, ‘Surprise! Those are from me.’ But I panicked, and then, well you know” he gesticulated wildly with the arm not covering his face.

“It snowballed?”

“Yes. Exactly. So I tried to up the stakes. Nicer gifts each day, but you didn’t seem to like that. So, I went homemade. And well, then I overheard you talking to Lardo. So I gave up. Just if you would kindly put me out of my misery before leaving my room, that would be just grand,” he groaned.

Ransom pondered the thought. Holster was a large guy with larger emotions, who had the tendency to go over the top with most things. Why would declarations of romantic feelings be any different? And it was not as though Ransom didn’t think of Holster that way. In fact, it was the opposite. He adored him but had written off those feelings as purely platonic (most of the time. He was only human. So sue him) because Holster hadn’t shown any interest.

This was a case of differing preferences. Ransom preferred subtlety and Holster...did ostentatious work here? Yes, ostentatious. Had Ransom at any time grabbed a megaphone and shouted, ‘I think you’re great! I’d really like to kiss you...among other things!’, or had Holster just left a custom crossword puzzle on Ransom’s desk which spelled out, ‘You and I work great together. Date me?’ then they wouldn’t be in this mess.

So, he walked around to the other side of the bed, lying down on his back beside him. Then, he pried Holster’s arm away from his face and kissed his hand. “The beer was a nice touch. I thought they’d sold out of that one.”

Holster stared at him, flabbergasted. “I- you- what?”

Ransom rolled over and kissed Holster’s cheek. “Don’t hurt yourself there, Holtzy.”

“So...wait! This is a mutual feeling?” he shouted.

“Ding, ding, ding. Now he gets it.”

Holster burst out in ecstatic laughter. “You have got to be kidding me! But I um, sort of waited in line from like six am day of release. They sold out two people behind me.”

“Worth it,” Ransom said, lacing their fingers together.

“So um...I had a gift I decided not to give you and figured I would just see if you wanted to go with me...instead of you know…”

“Going with the mystery secret admirer?”

“Bingo. I have a pair of second row tickets for tomorrow’s game against the Aeros.”

Ransom reached over and tugged at him until Holster rolled on top of him. He kissed him on the nose. “I would love to.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“It certainly is.”