#eat a fucking banana then a glass of water is not a meal

[btsbs]

.

[bagofshinyrocks]

Period Comfort

Prompt: How the boys act when their S/O is on their period. [Requested by @weebumochi]

Featuring: TF141 and Los Vaqueros - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, and Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: reader menstruates, but no mention of genitalia; menstruation discomfort; nothing else i can think of, but lemme know if there's more

John Price

Always gets you water and a fresh cup of tea once your cups looks a little low.

Finds out what meals are best for someone on their period and focuses on making those for the week.

You two would make food with beef, eggs, and fish (if you eat them); spinach, squash, and brussel sprouts. All the nutritious stuff. 

And then he would make treats for you, especially dark chocolate on almonds or walnuts. Bring you bananas, berries, figs. You felt like ancient Mesopotamian royalty. All things that were also good for you, but were more traditional period comfort food of “sweet”. 

If you really needed to eat half a family sized bag of barbeque potato chips, he would fetch them and put them in a bowl for you. No questions asked. No movement in the eyebrows. A loving smile as he asks what movie you two were going to watch.

 But for dinner, he’s making something without so much… sodium.

Does everything he can to make your period easier on you.

Simon Riley

Doesn’t tell you that he knows you’re on your period, but that shit is on the calendar. Doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s all “oh is it that time of the month?”. So he pretends nothing is different.

He’s always so sweet to you, but he’s especially so when you’re on your period.

There are absolutely no gibes or pokes at the tender part of your heart. And whenever you’re most hormonal (which is also on the calendar), he might not tease you at all. Because one time he was a little snarky with you, and normally it would roll right off, but you were just a teensy bit too hormonal. And you got quiet. And your lip quivered. And he didn’t stop apologizing the whole day.

Any shows or movies he normally sighs about (but still sits down and watches… and gets invested in, the lying shit), there is no fussing.

“Alright, lovie, sounds good. Do you want another cuppa while I’m up?”

Need some quiet time by yourself? He has some errands to run, let him know what you want for dinner.

Just does his best to make sure you never feel crazy when you’re on your period.

Kyle Garrick

When the worst of your period comes in, it becomes the typical night in.

The dumbest movies that you two love. Dessert eaten before dinner. Favorite takeout and all the accoutrement available. A glass of wine or some other treat beverage. Matching pajama sets.

Kyle had almost fallen asleep when you massaged a yummy-smelling hair mask into his scalp, and then pulled a ‘oh I was just resting my eyes’. And then he returned the favor, painting a luxurious facial mask on you. Making hearts on your cheeks, then spreading them out. You were fairly sure he drew boobs on your forehead, but then smeared it out and insisted you were just imagining it.

You give each other manicures, and hand feed the other food whilst their nails dried. Kissing chocolate and strawberries off each others lips and chins.

Once his hair was wrapped up, he’s all snuggled up in your arms. The heat and weight of his body against your abdomen was soothing. And the gentle snoring of the love of your life.

Everything he can to make you feel comfortable and attractive in your own skin.

Johnny MacTavish

He gets up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run (like a fucking psycho). Once you wake up, he wants to go to the gym with you. Whether or not you work out, or just poke his butt because it’s funny, he wants you there. But not today. Your cramps, or just the general yuckiness of menstruating, makes you want to not leave the house.

So he hops on the internet, and finds the workouts, stretches, and yoga poses that would help you feel better.

The most gentle workout he’s had in his life. Stretching with the speed of tai chi, leaning against your back and chatting quietly.

Kisses wherever he can reach as you two figure out the yoga poses. Sticks his ass out as far as he can so you’ll poke it. Whistles whenever you begin a pose that’s even marginally suggestive. Waggles his eyebrows and maybe even cops a feel.

Double checks that you aren’t overexerting yourself. Stops for water (and kiss) breaks and asks how you’re feeling. What’s helping, what’s not helping? Time to stop, or keep going?

Helping with the physical and visceral symptoms so you’re more comfortable.

Alejandro Vargas

If he can, he’s clearing the schedule for the worst day of the week. Does grocery shopping and laundry before, so there is essentially nothing to do that day when Mother Nature is curb-stomping you.

Spoils you with a long lie-in. The sun has long since come up by the time you wake up to massages and kisses.

You join him for breakfast and a quick rinse off shower, and then you two crawl right back into bed. Leaning against him as he kneads the skin and muscles of your abdomen or back, a movie or the radio as ambient noise.

Maybe you fall back asleep. Maybe you watch an entire TV show. Maybe you putter about and do some light home-making. The goal is that you are fully rested.

I bet science says that you can’t “catch up on sleep”, but it’s still nice to have a day where you sleep for most of it. Especially when it’s curled up in bed with your sweet lover. His hands on you for the entire day, closely followed by his lips.

His whole body squeezing you tight when you try to leave, and wrapping around you again once you return.

Just physically reminding you of how much he loves you.

Rodolfo Parra

Once he sees a menstrual product wrapper in the bathroom trash can, he’s off to make the most professional grocery run you’ve ever seen.

Knows exactly which products you use, and checks which are low. Buys the right medications or products. The snacks that you love (that won’t betray you later with a stomach ache), and the little drink treat that’s for special occasions. 

You swear that he hears the crinkle of a wrapper in the bathroom and marches to the store.

Puts the groceries away while you’re finishing up the breakfast dishes and then offers you the little beverage and maybe a treat.

He guides you to the couch or back to bed, sidling up next to or behind you and kisses you deeply. Arms roaming and then settling in a way that keeps you as close as possible. Pressing against you as if you could become one.

Cuddles in the way that is most comfortable, whether you’re in his lap or laying down. Kisses you all over. Hand feeds you until you’re giggling too hard.

He never wants you to run out of the supplies you need, or feel any less sexy while menstruating. Because you are always so sexy to him.

Posted: 2024 January 7

[surrinta]

LOADING: the pudding, the class and the big big brat ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

content: be aware of reader having abnormal eating habits n over involved friends. as in concerningly abnormal n her mates have had enuff. you eat like this?? tell someone pls. what else? oh yeah, mentions of implied bulimia (reader is not bulimic) nnn (my memory omg) undisclosed relationship hehe. reader is sort of a brat, female n black coded ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

headers from @v6que <3

“mama you need t’finish this”

you glowered at him over the tops of your glasses as you played with the rim of the rice pudding pot he had picked out for you. ony merely stared back at you. you were all mean faced n pouty, arms crossed tight across your chest — he scoffed. you looked like a damn kitten glaring like that.

he checked his gold linked watch. he had about ten minutes till training and you hadn’t even cracked open the lid of the pot yet.

eren and ony had been watching your eating habits for a while, unbeknownst to you. you barely finished your meals when you three went out, merely sliding it over to them and claiming you were full. you skipped meals — ESPECIALLY breakfast and would only eat about one to two small things. if even. last time you brought in lunch ony had to ransack your bag and get a second eye witness, being eren because he could not in good conscious believe that you had only brought in three small tangerines for lunch.

to your credit you snacked like a motherfucker.

you claimed you didn’t have any disordered eating patterns but the last time they made you sit and eat breakfast recommended for a living breathing person and not your pitiful banana and three biscuits or whatever the hell else you cocked up — you got the worst stomach ache, could barely stand upright.

eren and ony took it upon themselves to meal plan and prep for you. no tv during meal times, no talking and you weren’t to leave spoonfuls behind. they gave you options and as much time as you pleased to pick.

you were good for the most part. but today you seemed to have hit a threshold. ony narrowed his eyes before releasing a breath. he’s never cared when you’ve hit your limit, however. he knew how much you could take. this atrocious display of pure cheek was not your limit.

“just, open it, baby. eat a few spoons for me”

you took in the arm he had on the back of the couch in the student lounge area. you felt bad. hated them fussing. but you ate! most times. well. if you ever whipped up the app you downloaded to see if you were getting your recommended daily intake of calories and showed it to them you’d be a finished person. so perhaps there was room for improvement, but you weren’t starving yourself. you held back an irritated breath. not on purpose. when he plopped the rice pudding pot in front of you, you had barely contained an eye roll and a mumbled, ‘not this again’.

you cracked open the tin foil. took up a white plastic spoon and downed three mouthfuls.

“done”

“you ate three damn spoons”

“you said eat a few spoons for me”

“i-“, ony felt his eye twitch. you raised your eyebrows as if to say you had won the little argument. you picked up your phone to mindlessly tap; pearl studded acrylics tapping against the screen before ony snatched it.

“nigga-“

“eat, im not fucking around. i asked your girls, told me all you had today was water and a damn nutrigain bar. that shit ain’t food”. he furrowed his brows as he planted your phone on the table. you sat back and folded your arms as you stared at the wooden surface. ony knew that you probably didn’t have an eating disorder. you liked food. you snacked religiously and when they followed you to the bathroom to press an ear to the door they didn’t get the feeling that you were throwing it all up either. granted eren nearly crashed to the ground when you had flung open the door. you had gazed up at them with a question before shaking it off, settling for their unreasonable abnormalities and undiagnosed clinginess. one less thing to worry about for them.

still didn’t explain your aversion to eating anything of substance.

“fine!” you huffed as you opened up the pot again, spooning some more of the creamy rice into your mouth. ony watched you patiently. he had noticed how tired you were getting. how irritable you could be at times, a brat as he would call you more often than not. he wanted you healthy and he knew you could do it. you just needed a push cause you were so damn stubborn.

he checked his watch again. training was in five. he got up just as he saw your girls come in to your table. he nodded at them, dapped a few as they sat down.

“i have training-“, he started at the group.

“coulda fooled me”, he shot you a look as if to say he was only an inch away from telling you he wasn’t talking to you. he slung his gym bag onto one shoulder.

“she needs to finish this”. your girls nodded eagerly adding comments of  their own about your terrible eating patterns as you glared.

“thanks, guys”. ony grabbed your jaw, smushed your blush painted cheeks.

“see you in a bit, ma”

you mumbled out a bye and not even a second later eren had come through the door, dapping up ony as he eyed your little table. you threw your head back so hard you were surprised you didn’t knock yourself out. eren was a lot gentler, a bit softer than onyankopon — who always seemed ready to eat the head off you. eren had potential to possess rage but in waves, nearly. just waves. 

till you pushed.

“not happy to see me?”

your friends were but you cut eyes at him before begrudgingly fixing a hug into his side when he pinched at your ribs as you jumped n squealed. he gave a pretty grin, canines peeking before he tucked you into the space between his ribs. your girls were always so awestruck by the pure affection that was always displayed with the three of you. natural n loving n casual. the sweetest.

he sat across from you, greeted your friends, opened up your pot of rice pudding, ate a spoon and then scooped up another to tell you to open your mouth. he usually communicated with you in japanese and as if on autopilot you opened to eat it. no, “what’s this about you not eating?”, he just started talkin. he alternated between telling you about his day n spoon feeding you, eating off of yours at random and before you knew it, it was finished.

“so”, eren fixed you with a dimpled grin, green eyes a glitter. “guess who has a food and nutrition module in about-“, he checked his watch. “ten minutes”.

you pulled a face. “let’s see, someone i don’t give two rats ab-“

“watch it”

you slumped your shoulders back, simultaneously swinging your legs to one side to let the girls out. they had some nursing lab of their own to get to. you were two parts surprised they were even attempting to go to class. usually they bunked off if eren or ony were chilling with you. you cocked an eyebrow at them as they gave giggled goodbyes. you supposed they had to get their life in order at some point. it was final year after all.

“you’re coming”

you shrugged. interestingly you loved topics about nutrition. “no sweat off my back”, you gave a little smile. “i love this subject”

eren eyed you as you picked up your kipling satchel, miffy plush swinging from the corduroy material. “good cause i told the professor i’m bringing in someone that would love to participate in this specific module”

your eye twitched. “you did what?”

[topguncortez]

No thoughts, just making dinner for hangster

These two would want you to sit and look pretty while they made dinner, but you knew that neither one could boil water to save their lives. Jake had a little bit more skill than Bradley, having watched his dad grill before. But that was pretty much it when it came to the cooking realm. You were taught from a young age that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. And you were hoping that was the same for your two men.

Before you had waltzed into their lives, they were surviving off of easy prep meals: chicken breast, white rice, and green beans. You could not understand how they could eat the same meal day after day after day. But then you realized it was because that was all they knew how to cook.

The first time you made them dinner, steaks and garlic potatoes, Bradley looked as if he was going to marry you right then and there. Jake took a little bit longer to impress with your cooking. But once you made a banana cream pie the EXACT same way Nana Seresin makes it, Bradley had to hide Jake’s credit card cause he was ready to go ring shopping.

Cooking for your boys became a regular occurrence. You usually got done with class way before they got off work. Jake had given you an extra credit card of his so you could stop by the market and get fresh produce and stuff for dinner each night. The two of them would come from work, smelling like jet fuel, with growling tummies. They would sit at the kitchen table and just watch you in awe as you moved around the kitchen.

“Sweetheart, where did you learn to cook like this?” Bradley asks, mouth full of food.

You just shrug holding your wine glass up to your lips, “Just talent I- oh fuck, I guess.” Bradley smirks at you as you look under the table, watching as Jake nuzzles his nose against your clit, “Can you come eat now?”

“I am eating,” Jake said, licking a stripe from your core to your clit.

“I didn’t slave over the stove for nothing, Seresin,” You roll your eyes and push him away.

“Fine,” Jake huffed, crawling out from under the table, “But i want desert later,” He kissed you. You could taste yourself on his tongue and it made you moan.

“As long as you clean your plate first,” You smirked and patted his chest.

[physicallyherementallykissingmen]

Ghoul favorite food HC 👀

thank you anon for the ask!! (THIS TOOK FOREVER PARTS OF THE DRAFT KEPT GETTING DELETED AND I ALMOST THREW MY PHONE AT THE WALL!!!)

———————————————————————

The Nameless Ghouls and their favourite foods!!

Aether

• BANANAS!!!!

•He definitely has a sweet tooth, more leaning towards natural sugars than artificial sugars but either he loves.

•Aether is most likely to be caught in the ghoul’s kitchen shoveling grated cheese into his mouth at an unholy (heh) hour at the night.

•Even though he loooooves bananas, he despises banana flavored candy.

Mountain

•He will absolutely fuck up a caeser salad. If you were to give him a salad on a paper plate he would get too excited and eat the plate too. :’)

•Like other Earth Ghouls he is a vegetarian of course.

Rain

•Just like Copia he absolutely loves pasta, from ravioli to rigatoni to fettuccine he will absolutely fuck up whatever pasta you put in front of him. He will inhale any noodles within the ministry grounds, whether they’re cooked or not.

•You know how wolves get territorial over well, territory? Rain gets territorial over pasta. He once pushed Sodo down a flight of stairs when he found out he ate his almost week old spaghetti.

•Rain is quite the talented chef, hanging around Terzo when he was cooking he managed to get some lessons from the former Papa. Days when he misses Terzo the most he’ll cook some of the meals he was first taught how to make, just to reminisce on the memories and feel closer to him.

Sodo

•He loves spicy and sour food, or anything with some kick for that matter, but he has some of the most sensitive tastebuds out of the ghouls, hell, even out of everyone in the ministry.

•Whenever he does eat spicy food, he always has a glass of milk nearby, despite Cirrus telling him that its better for him to drink water.

•Sometimes he uses sour candy to ground himself whenever he’s especially stressed, whether it be one of the ghouls that’s getting on his nerves, or touring he always keeps a bag of sour patch kids with him, or for more stressful times of the year he’ll keep some warheads in his pockets.

•In terms of cooking? He cannot cook. Sodo has almost burnt down the ministry a couple times trying to cook. Did he once he make cupcakes that were so burnt that they made Rain throw up? We’ll never know. 🤫

Swiss

•Swiss isn’t exactly picky when it comes to food, he’ll most likely eat anything you put in front of him.

•Although he’s fine with all food, he has a special place in his heart for international food, it could be sushi, ramen, mole, enchiladas, paella, or pad thai, but when he’s done eating it he might take a couple bites of the plate too.

•He can cook very well, being able to make some of the meals listed above. Learning some of his best recipes from Rain he always tries to linger around the kitchen when the water ghoul is cooking, just to get more ideas and what not.

Cumulus

•Like Aether she has one of the biggest sweet tooth of the group, having a particular love for chocolate. She looooooves chocolate waffles not really caring whether they’re pre made or not.

•She is incredible at making desserts, especially cookies. It’s like taking a bite of heaven (ironically). As much as she doesn’t make them, Sodo and Aether are big fans of her mexican wedding cookies.

•Just like Special Ghoul brings toys, she makes pastries and goodies for the orphans in the ministry, bringing them year round. She’ll sometimes bring Copia to tell the kids some of his lighthearted stories from his time in the orphanage.

Cirrus

•She’s a big lover of seafood, her two favourite dishes being salmon patties and tuna melts.

•Although she is an air ghoul she does love restaurants or anything for that matter by the sea. Cirrus thinks it’s very relaxing to just enjoy the ocean because how it’s an entirely different world just a few miles out.

•This ghoulette is mainly in charge of keeping Sodo out of the kitchen to prevent any disasters that may or may not burn down the ministry.

———————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed anon and whoever else is reading this! Happy late new years! <3 (once again sorry for how long this took)

[apoptoses]

What do you think was Armand’s favorite thing for Daniel to eat or drink when he was mortal? Why?

oh man, you're asking someone who has eaten quite a bit of renaissance period food so BUCKLE IN you're getting more than you bargained for with this answer.

The short answer: modern fruit, modern seasonings/meats, cold food, and olive garden style italian

Fruits: we have so many varieties of fruits that just were not available in Armand's time. The apples and pears you see at the grocery store now are distant relatives of the apples and pears that Armand would have known and I really think he'd have sat Daniel down and had him try a little bit of everything from the produce section just to see what's better and what's worse.

He'd be totally unimpressed with the fruits we pick early and ship to stores covered in wax (their flavoring pales in comparison to a fruit allowed to ripen) but enthralled by fruit which would have been totally unknown to him, like bananas or mangoes.

(also every time they walk through a store? he's stealing some grapes off a bunch or a strawberry from a pack and pushing daniel to eat it right then and there, he's one of those grubby little fruit tasting thieves)

Meats: he'd also be totally enthralled by modern meats, but not for the reason you'd think. Spice usage in the 15th century was very different from what we have now, and spicing your meat dishes to be kinda sweet/savory was the thing. The seven most common spices were: ceylon cinnamon (NOT the ground stuff you get from the store, a totally different variety), grains of paradise (a type of red pepper), hyssop (an herb), saffron, sandalwood, galingale (a relative of ginger), cubebs (another variety of pepper not at all like black pepper)

So like. Just tossing a burger on the grill and eating it as flavored by the charcoal? Throwing some black pepper on and calling it a day? Unthinkable to him!

Armand would go through the grocery store spice aisle, get one of every premixed seasoning in a jar that's available, and force Daniel to try them all. Daniel never wants a fucking burger or seasoned chicken breast again after that.

Cold Food: this one is kinda obvious, in Venice you couldn't just dig a hole and build an ice cellar so chances of Armand ever having had a frozen treat while mortal are slim. Even cold drinks just were not really a thing in the renaissance, so Daniel sipping an ice water would be just wild to him.

He'd love ice creams and gelatos and sherberts and frozen custards. They're colorful, they have strange (to him) flavors, Daniel would have to try a bite of literally every single one of the 31 flavors offered by Baskin Robbins.

Also pudding! Jello! Cheesecake, which befuddles him because it's not cheese as he knew cheese. If it's in the fridge/freezer section Armand makes Daniel get it and take it home.

Modern 'italian' food: DID YOU KNOW Olive Garden was founded in like 1982 so in my heart Armand dragged Daniel there multiple times because it's Italian themed but is nothing like the Italy he knew. Tomatoes? Not a thing in his time but they're in like 90% of the food on the menu! Alfredo sauce? Never heard of it! Deep fried ravioli bites? What in god's name is that?

Daniel tries the soup because whatever, it comes with the meal. He powers through the Tour of Italy because Armand can't comprehend lasagna or chicken parm. He downs like four glasses of different sangrias because that? Armand doesn't know what that is and he's delighted that it's similar to the mulled wines of his youth but sweeter.

By the time dessert hits our man is sweatin'. Armand doesn't understand what could be 'italian' about cheesecake (they sell jello no bake cheesecake powder at the store, what could be different about olive garden's??) so he orders a slice of that as well as the tiramisu AND a fancy espresso cocktail. It's the Copley all over again but cheaper and greasier and with Frank Sinatra blaring on the speakers.

Would you gentlemen like a frozen entree to go? NO Daniel says just as Armand says YES, PLEASE, ONE OF EACH. He's so stuffed, he's drunk, he's in hell. Armand rants all the way back to the Night Island about his mixed feelings on modern innovations in cooking, Daniel doesn't care, Daniel never wants to see a noodle again.

(they go back the next night. and the next. and then armand discovers the fact that barbecue is different depending on which state in the US you're in and he's calling for the private jet. It's their own version of Diners, Drive ins and Dives from there and today Daniel can be found in Trinity Gate, watching Guy Fieri on the TV and yelling that HE did that first, he should be getting royalties or at least financial compensation from Armand for the emotional damage eating THAT MUCH greasy food left him with)

[casual-eumetazoa]

I've realized that I've settled into a routine of eating more or less the same things every day so I'm posting it here just because. My diet is very limited due to: sensory issues (autism), fears around food contamination (OCD), digestive issues (probably because of EDS) and low spoons available for cooking (burnout). So this is what my diet looks like:

Breakfast - instant oatmeal with a lot of peanut butter (at least two tablespoons though I don't measure it exactly) and some sort of fruit. Usually it's with a banana, sometimes with canned peach or pineapple. The oatmeal itself has dry milk and dried fruit in it already but I try to add extra fruit as long as I am not too full.

Lunch - my two go to lunches right now are instant ramen with defrosted vegetable mix and fried tofu; and vegetarian meat replacement thingies with whole grain bread and also with defrosted vegetable mix or canned vegetables. Occasionally I'll have something like pierogi or pizza or plain ramen if I have no spoons at all and/or no desire to eat. I also usually have a glass or two of vitamin fortified juice on the side for extra calories.

Dinner - protein bar. I'm not hungry at all in the evenings so I just force myself to eat anything to take my evening meds.

Snacks in between meals - full nutrition protein drinks (I try to have one a day but that's probably gonna change soon cause they're expensive as fuck), whole grain cookies, pureed fruit, candy, water. That's pretty much it.

As of now I'm eating just enough to maintain weight, I used to manage to get enough calories to gain weight (my BMI is still like, 17 at best) but now I'm too tired of eating and cooking and eating again so the weight gain has stopped. I'm happy to just maintain for now tbh, at least I no longer go days without eating anything like I used to earlier this year when my OCD was actively trying to kill me.

I know this is not great but I'm trying my best. And yes I've been to a dietician, it didn't help much because at the end of the day something still gets in the way of me having a more diverse diet.

Anyone else with similar issues and restricted diets? If yes, feel free to share advice or just vent in the replies <3

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Ok so I know Jason and the reader confessed their love in scruffy verse but after all that maybe he could ask her out on a nice date just with stuff they enjoyed when they were little

"I'm bored," Jason groused, sprawling across your bed.

"No shenanigans with the boys today?" you ask mildly, not looking up from your book.

"Yours are more fun," he pouted, picking up his battered teddy bear to fidget with. It was supposed to be a break from school. But Gotham being Gotham and Bruce being Bruce he'd hardly seen you. You were up with the chickens, sometimes even before Alfred and out cold asleep long before he got home from patrol.

He hated it. Even if he understood. But- that didn't mean he didn't worry. You were getting a cough now that the cold weather was setting in. And he knew you were tired. Years of malnutrition and medical neglect meant you'd probably never be very physically healthy. At least not without constantly being on top of eating well and sleeping enough... which you also didn't do.

"Jay I've got so much to do-"

"C'mon," he pleaded, giving you his biggest, saddest pound puppy eyes. "We can go skating? Or go see a movie?"

When you relent a little and close your book, Jason takes it gingerly and sets it aside, putting Scruffy in your lap where it had been. "Or I can make some hot chocolate and we can just cuddle for a while," he tries. Skating would be nice, but being out in the cold would probably make your cough worse. And a movie would be good but only if you could unwind enough to watch it and enjoy it.

"A nap sounds nice," you say after a long moment, turning your head to cough.

And Jason nods, smiling a little, "You really feel like shit, huh?"

"I'm just tired-"

"Yeah. And Joker just gave me a love tap," he said, frowning as he leaned forward to touch your forehead.

"Jason Peter."

But despite your protests, you lean into the touch and Jason shakes his head, "Nap it is," he decides for you. "Can you stay awake long enough for me to find some sweats?"

"Probably," you mumble, "Maybe."

And Jason doesn't need telling twice.

When he returns with his sweats, a glass of water, and some Tylenol, you look at him in askance.

"You're getting a fever," he explained, handing them to you. His suspicions are confirmed when you don't argue. "My poor baby," he hummed, taking the glass from you.

"I'll be fine. It's just sinus crud."

"Still," he said, settling you in his arms, satisfied when you snuggle closer. "You'll feel better with a nap and a good meal in you- if you feel up to it, we'll go get dinner. See if that one Barbeque place of 64th is still there."

"They have the best banana pudding."

"Remember that one waitress? Taffy? Did we ever figure out if that was her legal name?"

"She still works there, I think. Or at least she did when I went there for your birthday before-"

Jason kissed the top of your head and slid a hand up to rub the nape of your neck, just below your hairline, "You celebrated my birthday?"

"Every year," you murmur. "And I left you a notebook."

He stopped for a second, not sure what to say and kissed your head again, making a mental note to ask if Bruce had picked them up. For years, you'd passed notebooks back and forth. In the hall between classes, during classes while you sat next to each other. It was a running conversation. And somehow, without trying, you'd broken his heart in the sweetest way.

The whole time he'd been dead, he assumed life went on. Even for you. But it hadn't even as it had. You'd kept a space for him. And he hoped Bruce kept those fucking notebooks. He wanted to know about all the conversations you'd had without him.

[baecvlt]

Stalker Nagito Komaeda x Milf!Reader

this was requested via my twitter:

“Hey! i’ve seen your works and I’m in love. Can I request smut where a stalker Nagito Komaeda becomes obsessed with a milf reader who moves into the neighborhood who’s like a dom in bed and ya know just large bust and taller than him. Thank youuu🤍”

a/n: ofc. but I have my own idea of a dom which i’ll use involving certain things (heed warnings)

warnings: he is so obviously a virgin in this, degradation, slight masochism, asphyxiation, spit, also Nagito calls the reader mommy (side note: nagito is in his early 20s in this, he lives alone. age of reader isn’t specified BUT I say she’s in her late 20s/early 30s)

• • •

It was a bright day...which Nagito despised. It was summer. He hated the sun, hated the mosquitoes, and the unnecessary humidity. It was days like these he wishes he was back at his university dorm. The A/C, the tall tree covering his window and blocking the sun...it was perfect. Hell, he didn’t even hate classes. Yet, he couldn’t live in the dorms forever. When it came time to buy a home, he stupidly did so in fall, moved in during the winter.

Well, no shit the home seemed perfect then. It wasn’t fucking summer. His A/C decided to break, his windows has a great view of the sun, and most of his friends were out of town (all except Hajime, but Hajime is fucking boring and a bummer). Nagito sat on his couch, watching reruns of old tv shows. He took a sip from his nearby glass (cold water), suddenly hearing sounds of what appeared to be a loading van. He looked outside his window.

A moving van?

Right, that one old man who lived there passed away. Freak accident, by the way. Oh well, may he rest in peace. Meanwhile, Nagito was being himself and trying to see who it was. Pretty much, the dude was being nosy. He saw another car pull up. That must’ve been the family’s car. Out jumped 3 kids, what appeared to be 2 girls and 1 boy. An adult stepped out. Nagito decided he’d get a better look at the situation. He put on his shirt, black jeans, and his green hood.

He was “going for a walk”.

Without being noticed, he made his way to the other side of the street. It was a woman, she was taking boxes out of the truck. The minute Nagito saw her it was if he was stricken by Cupid’s arrow. She was tall and beautiful. Her skin complimented her hair and her legs, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Her breasts...he needed to stop—

“Hi!”

She was in front of him, a warm and inviting smile on her face. “H-Hi,” he muttered. She didn’t hear him well, so it helped that he waved. “I’m new in the neighborhood. We just moved in,” she added, putting the box down. She stuck her hand out, going for a handshake. He shook her hand, her warm hand against his cold ones. Why are his hands always cold? “I see,” he responded, getting his shit together,“I’m Nagito Komaeda. I live across the street”. She introduced herself and complimented his house.

“What a lovely home. I hope the neighborhood is just as lovely”

“It should be. It’s pretty quiet. There’s not many families here. Say, can I help you pack?”

“You’re too sweet! I’d really appreciate it”

He helped take all the boxes in her home, helping load a couch too, and help with other large objects. They finished in 9 hours, taking a majority of the day. “Thanks for helping out, Nagito”. She made a lemonade, handing him a glass.

“Don’t mention it! Also, thank you”

One of the kids ran in the living room where they sat on the couch. He gasped when he saw Nagito. “Mommy! That man looks dead!!!”. Nagito smiled, but his mom was not amused. “Michael! Apologize..”. The kid kept smiling and said,“Sorry!”. He ran to another room. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered. Nagito shook his head.

“Hey, I’m rather malnourished”

“Ha. On an unrelated topic, are you hungry? I could make us something”

“Oh, I shouldn’t linger any longer. I wouldn’t want to disturb your husband”

She laughed. “I know you mean no harm, but I’m not married,” she added. “Oh,” Nagito muttered,“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it in any way”. She shook her head and reassured him it was fine. “Sit, Nagito,” she pulled out a chair,“I’m not letting you refuse having dinner with us. Especially since you were such help”. She rubbed his back before heading back into the kitchen to begin cooking.

She made him a bowl of pasta, adding chicken on the side. Nagito was quite happy. He hadn’t eaten a good meal in so long. Her kids didn’t eat at the table, but on the counter. Meanwhile, she ate with Nagito. Just as Nagito thought he couldn’t grow fonder of her, he did just that. All she did was let him talk about himself.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about your parents? How are you keeping yourself afloat with university and expenses?”

“Academic scholarships”

“Wow, you’re such a smart boy”

The way she phrased it made him flustered. “Thank you for the meal, ma’am,” he muttered,“I haven’t eaten like this in who knows how long”. She smiled tenderly, picking up his empty plate. “Seconds?”. He shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’m already so full”

“I’m glad. You know, there’s always a meal for you in store if you can do me a favor”

“What’s that?”

“My oldest daughter has her final test this week. You think you can help her study? I’ll make you a nice, warm meal every time you come over”

Nagito thought about it. He would also have time around her. Plus, she wasn’t a bad cook. “Of course, I look forward to it,” he told her. “Lovely”. He got up and excused himself to go home. “It was nice having you over, Nagito,” she said softly. He could tell she was getting sleepy. When people are tired, Nagito has noticed that their tone is rather sheepish. She walked him to the door, ruffling his hair playfully and he blushed. “Goodnight, neighbor”.

“Goodnight, you”

Before he left, she stopped him and handed him a paper: (xxx) xxx-xxxx ♡

“Call me when you get home so I have your number saved. Then, I can call you when my daughter, Vanessa, needs help. Take care, okay?”

He nodded.

She closed the door, his thoughts racing on his way home. He picked up some things about her, things she didn’t even tell him. He went home and opened a notebook, writing all of it down. He called her and she answered, her voice as sweet as when he left (only sleepier). “Hello?”. His breath was heavy without realizing it as he spoke. “H-Hey, you told me to call you,” he breathed,“It’s Nagito...Komaeda”

“Oh, hey, angel! I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“What? No, it’s all good— why’d you think so?”

“You sound like you need to catch your breath, but anyway, thanks for calling me. I’ve saved your number now”

“Oh, great! Well, if that’s all, I’ll let you go to bed now”

“It was. Goodnight, Nagito”

“G-Goodnight”

He hung up, flustered more than ever as he continued to jot down his thoughts on paper. The next day, he woke up at 6am to wait in his car. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. At around 7:41am, his front neighbor and kids headed for their car. Nagito, who had taken a light nap in the driver’s seat, was awoken by the car starting. He waited for the car to drive away just slightly past his house to start his own car, slowly tailing behind her.

He dropped her kids off at the nearby elementary. She got off, kissed them on their forehead (all minus the eldest, who walked swiftly through the gates). Seeing how she cared for them made Nagito feel bad, but all he did was brush that feeling off. Next, he followed her through her daily. As he did, his notes from last night echoed through his mind, adding new detail.

“She works at an office not everyday She doesn’t have allergies but is sensitive to dust Red seems to be her favorite color but always in a darker shade Her daughter is around 10 years old She isn’t vegan but enjoys almond milk Maybe has an issues with abandonment but I can’t assume that either She buys many apples but not the same amount of bananas at the store so maybe she only eats the bananas—”

Just more to add to his notebook.

He got home before she did, writing down what he had learned. His phone rang about an hour later of him getting home. He picked it up,“Hello?”. “Nagito, hi!”. It was her. He started having a mini-panic attack, because why would she be calling him? “H-Hey, how are you?”

“I’m doing alright. I was wondering if you could come over and tutor Vanessa”

Oh, thank god.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be down there right now”

“Great. See you then!”

He was relieved, heading to her home happily. He knocked on the door. When she opened it, she did so with the same warm smile as yesterday. “Thank you for coming over,” she said,“She’s in her room”. Nagito nodded, freezing when she grabbed his hand and took him to the room. Her touch was so soft, noted. They got to the room, where a girl was reading a book on a desk. “Nessa?”. The girl turned around.

“Nagito is going to be here for a few hours to help you out with homework and studying. He’s really smart, so pay attention and be respectful”

“Okay, mom”

She nodded, squeezing Nagito’s shoulder before leaving. Nagito approached the girl, she took her things out. Before he could speak, she stopped him. “Please don’t call me ‘Nessa’,” she whispered,“It’s bad enough my mom does, but not you, Please”.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on referring to you at all”

“Bastard”

“Nessa”

“I guess I walked right into that one”

Nagito laughed, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her. Her work wasn’t what he expected. Is this what they’re teaching kids now? He could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen this type of stuff until he hit middle school. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, but damn. All in all, tutoring went well. Vanessa actually learned something today. “Good job!,” he said. “Thank you,” she smiled and hugged him,“I felt so stupid”.

“Hey, its okay not to understand things”

Her mom walked in. “Dinner’s ready”. Vanessa got up and went to the kitchen. “How’d it go?,” she asked Nagito. “Went well, she gets the math now,” he answered. She smiled, thanking him for his help and asking him to join them for dinner. He’d be foolish not to, so he accepted the invite.

Fish tacos were served tonight with rice and beans, another lemonade made. It was different than anything Nagito had ever had, but that doesn’t equate to bad. He actually enjoyed the meal. The kids sat at the main table today, much more respectful than yesterday. “Michael how was school?”. He put a thumbs up, getting back to eating. “And Adrianna?”. She looked up from her meal and shrugged. “What’s wrong?”.

“I’m tired, but class was okay”

“Oh, okay. When you’re done, just take a quick shower and get to bed”

“Thanks”

Nagito thought it was endearing. Seeing how understanding and loving she was, it was refreshing. The kids all eventually left, Nagito finishing his meal. “Did you like it?”. He looked at her, nodding. “Great! Seconds?”.

“Full again. I don’t usually eat, but your food is always so good”

“Oh, you’re just saying things...”

“No, really! Thank you”

He said his goodbyes to the family, walking back home. It was as if he was falling for this woman more and more everyday. He went to sleep, this time dreaming of her. He never dreams, but this time he dreamt she was on her knees for him. Then, nothing else. It was as if his dream teased him.

The next morning, he woke up to some knocking on the door. He looked at the time. 8:23am. He put on a pair of jeans and his shirt, walking to his door. He opened it and there she stood, wearing a black dress and red heels. He assumed she had work and needed a favor before going. “Good morning,” he said.

“Were you following me yesterday?”

Shit.

“I, uh...,” he didn’t know what to answer. He was indeed following her yesterday. He also liked her, so if he straight up said that he was to following her, it’d ruin things. His face was glowing a shade of pink to a slight red as he thought of the right answer. He was still stumbling over his words. “I think it’s kinda cute,” she added. The fuck? “Huh?”. She pushed him inside the house, closing and locking the door behind him. “When a boy follows someone around, it’s because he wants something,” she added, but her tone was so sultry,“Well, Nagito—”. She pushed him onto the couch, leaning in front of him with her hands on his chest.

“—What do you want?”

None of what was happening felt real. Nagito couldn’t find the words to express what exactly he wanted. This was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like this, it wasn’t a bad one either. He began to panic when she straddled him. “Could it be that you wanted me?,” she asked. He frantically nodded and she laughed as she locked her lips with his. He gasped against her lips, kissing back. She slowly trailed her kisses down to his neck, cupping his jaw while grinding on his lap. Nagito moaned, his shaky hands grabbing her ass. She grabbed his hands and put them away from her. “It’s cute that you’re getting this carried away”.

“I’m sorry”

“No time to apologize. Get on your knees for mommy”

Nagito was about to lose his mind when she said that, but he obeyed. Her presence was domineering as he stood on his knees against his carpeted floor. She spread her legs, noticing Nagito desperately trying to get a look. Her red heel stopped him, stepping on his head lightly. “Am I teasing you?,” she asked,“It’s okay to be honest”.

“Y-You are, but its okay. I want to be teased by you”

“You’re adorable,” she took her heel off his head,“Let’s go to your room”.

He practically ran to his bed. He sat and waited patiently. She entered the room, heading to his bed. She began to take off his shirt, admiring his frame. She then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He kicked them off and sat down. She sat next to him. “Give me your hands”. She held them, frowning slightly. “Boo, they’re so cold,” she teased,“I’ll warm them up for you”. Carefully, she grabbed his left hand, putting his middle and ring finger in her mouth. She licked to his fingertips, leaving him tense and speechless. She stopped and smiled at him.

“This is your first time, isn’t it?”

He nodded shyly. “Don’t be shy,” she said,“I’m going to guide you, but I’m also going to have my fun”. He gulped, nodded. She stood up and removed her dress. She wore a lacy black bra and panties. She brought his hands to her breasts, allowing him to fondle them. They were huge in his hands. “You like them, baby?”. “Y-Yes,” he muttered,“Can you, uh, take....the bra off?”. He was ashamed when asking, he felt desperate. She smiled and nodded, unhooking it and allowing the bra to fall to the ground. He gasped at the sight of her tits, grabbing them. She straddled him.

“Do you know what to do with them?”

He nodded, rubbing one and sucking the other. She moaned sweetly, grinding on his lap. He popped his mouth off them. That was when she took the opportunity to knock him onto the bed. She began to make out with him, shoving his tongue down her throat. They lay sideways. Her hand was on his neck, slightly choking him. He couldn’t resist but try to grind on her lap. She laughed. “Look at you,” she mocked,“Humping my leg like a desperate little puppy”. She didn’t let him speak, sitting up and pushing him back down. “I’m going to give you what you want,” she whispered in his ear,“Take your cock out”.

He was nervous as he did, hands shaky. She blushed a bit at his size. “It’s so big,” she said, straddling him,“I’m going to have my way with it”. “Please, do what you want to me,” he begged,“Abuse me, please”. She didn’t speak, sinking down on it. Nagito gasped, she was extremely wet. She began to bring her hips up and land straight down on it, repeatedly. She put her hands around his throat, now being rougher. Nagito gasped for air, grabbing her hands.

That was a mistake.

“Hands down,” she ordered, striking him across the face. “Sorr-”. He was slapped once again. “Only speak when you’re spoken to”. He nodded as his stomach began to cave in. His cock twitched each time she slapped him, making her moan. She leaned forward, capturing his earlobe between her teeth. He winced, his hands tangling in the sheets. He felt as though his entire body was blushing.

“You’re so sensitive there”

She teased him, kissing the skin and nibbling. His hips involuntarily snapped upward, making her whine. “You’re so desperate, baby,” she laughed,“it’s so cute”. He could feel her warmth running along his cock. He bit into his hand, trying to stop himself from cumming inside her. It worked, but she didn’t like him doing that. She grabbed his hands and kissed them.

“Don’t hurt yourself, put them right here”

She placed them on her boobs. He watched them bounce up and down, grabbing them gently. His rather large hands seemed small on her tits. He was extremely flushed. He took them off her and placed them on her hips. “Open your mouth”. He lay back more and did as he was told. She leaned forward, grabbing his jaw again as she spit into it and kissed him. He moaned when she did, his urges getting the best to him and thrusting upward. He hit her cervix every time, causing her to produce the sweetest and sluttiest of moans. Her walls tightened around him and now he was whining. “Are you gonna cum, honeybun?,” she asked.

“Y-Yes..”

“Where do you wanna cum?”

“I wanna cum...everywhere. I want it. I want it so bad. I wanna cum inside and on your tits, on your ass, y-your face..mouth. Please let me cum, mommy”

She motivated him, riding him harder. “Come on, Nagito,” she whispered,“Cum for mommy. Cum all the way inside her”. He lost his mind after that, groaning as he shot his load(s) inside her. He was still inside her as he tried catching his breath. She rubbed his chest, shushing him. “Good boy, you did so well,” she cooed,“Such a good boy.” He was covering his face, embarrassed and still hard. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?,” she asked. He shook his head, thinking,“Not rough enough”. He whined when she got off, revealing he was still erect. She noticed.

“You wanna go again, baby? Kids don’t leave school till 2:30. We have time for an extra fuck”

“C-Can I?”

“Yes, dummy”

She let Nagito choose how to fuck her. He wanted missionary, mostly because he craved intimacy and she did not disappoint. She kissed and praised him, telling him he was good. She held onto him the whole time and cuddled him afterwards. Nagito felt so special, he felt loved. “I can come over when I don’t have work,” she said,“Would you like that?”.

“I’d love that actually”

“You make me happy, Nagito. I could stay here and cuddle all day”

“I feel so lucky”

He yawned, looking at the clock. “Its 10,” he told her. She nuzzled his chest, humming. “Mmmm, let’s take a small nap,” she whispered,“Okay?”. “Okay”. He kissed the top of her head and held her to him, slowly joining her in slumber.

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART ELEVEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: talk of sex and such, feelings Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: alright, this is terribly late again because im a depressed snail at heart, but its longer than usual, so i hope that makes up for it. If you read my fic at all, i love you. If you interact with this fic in anyway, i want to wed you. 

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack

MASTERPOST

You woke up in a daze of fuzzy but pleasant memories. You were trying to blink the sleep from your eyes when Josh entered your line of sight. He had emerged from the hallway, completely naked save for the necklace he’d been in the night before, little water droplets slipping from his curls to his shoulders. 

You shot up in bed, and as you did, the comforter fell away from your body. It took you a moment for you to realize that it was the air hitting your bare skin that was making you feel chilled, but it didn’t last long. Your face turned beet red as you quickly picked the sheet back up to cover yourself. 

He was giving you an odd look - somewhere between amused and concerned. “Are you alright?” he tried cautiously, still standing there stark naked. 

“Josh! You can’t just walk around naked,” you complained, stuttering on your words as they came out. 

He snorted a laugh. “What? First of all, this is my room. Second of all, it’s a little late to try and protect your modesty.”

You rolled your eyes at him until you realized what he was talking about. “Oh my god, we had sex last night,” you whispered to him like it was a secret, a tiny smile on your lips. 

He nodded, breathing a laugh. “Yeah.”

You experimentally shifted in your seat before grimacing up at him. “That would explain why I’m sitting in a damp spot.”

You could only describe the laugh that escaped him as a cackle, honest and unabashed. “Gross.”

You had to say you agreed with him. 

There was a cautious moment, where you stared at each other, both unsure of what to say. 

“Are we good?” he tried quietly like he was a little scared of what you were going to say.

You patted the spot next to you and he clambered in as he was told. You leaned against him as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

“Of course, we are,” you assured, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. 

“If it’s going to make you feel better to pretend it didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be mad.”

You pulled away and looked up at him with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugged, sporting a nervous smile. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You heaved a big sigh, shifting to look into his eyes. “Josh, I want you to listen to me really carefully, okay?”

He nodded.

You slowly reached up to cup one side of his face in your hand. “I don’t regret it - actually, I had a really nice night. I just think that it would be best for everyone involved if it didn’t happen again. We probably shouldn’t be romantic...or naked around each other.”

The expression he wore seemed like an understanding one, at least to you.

“You want me to make pancakes? Maybe chocolate chip banana?” you offered, giving him a cheeky smile. 

He couldn’t help but match it. “Yes. You’re probably going to want to put your tits away first though.”

“You first,” you quipped, smacking the back of your hand against his peck. 

+++

The rest of the weekend, the two of you spent watching Christmas movies on the couch (even though the holiday was more than a month away) while you worked on sewing the costumes. Josh had offered to ask the theater department if you could borrow a sewing machine, but you had been way too afraid of it to try and use it, so it sat in your room alone. That did, however, leave you to sew 26 costumes by hand. Well, more like 24, since Rachel had two of them mostly done. 

You were finding it oddly fun though, even though your fingers hurt by the fifth stitch or so. The hardest part was making sure you worked on the basics of every costume first - your instinct was to work on one at a time until it was perfect, but you knew you had to be smart about time management. Luckily, even though it was only near mid-November, Michigan’s weather was lovably unpredictable. The weather station had called for snow only through the weekend, but, in reality, it was Monday evening by the time it was done dumping snow - giving you a full three day weekend. 

Kate had been sending you pictures of the pieces of the set she had taken home with her to work on, and you couldn’t hide how impressed you were with her work. You would almost be offended at how good it looked if you hadn’t known she was an Art History major with a heavy side of sculpture work. 

In the last two weeks before the production, you barely got to see Josh. He would walk you to school, but then you usually wouldn’t see him for the entire rest of the day. You tried to wait up for him on Thursday night, but you ended up falling asleep on the couch, and woke at 1 am to him gently patting your shoulder. 

“Hey, you should get up and go to your bed.”

You blinked up at him, sitting up and brushing your sleep-mussed hair from your eyes. 

“You’re home so late,” you scolded half-heartedly, pulling your borrowed sweatshirt closer to your face. 

“I know, sorry. There’s still a lot to do, especially after we got snowed in last weekend,” he replied, sitting gingerly on the armrest. 

“I told you that I’m happy to help however I can.”

He smiled at you, but you had to admit that he looked over-tired. You’d been watching him burn the candle at both ends for three days straight. “It’s a lot of stuff that only I can do. Like going over the music and making the final set diagrams.”

You hummed in understanding as a response. 

“Want me to carry you to bed? You can come sleep in mine if you want,” he offered through a crinkly-nosed smile. 

You grinned back at him, genuine at first, but it quickly turned melancholy. “Josh,” you said under your breath. “I’d love that, but I don’t think it’s good for us to share a bed anymore.”

His expression fell, face turning blank. He nodded at you, standing and giving you a disappointed smile. “Sleep well,” he wished, patting your shoulder again once before retreating to his room. 

You stayed on the couch for a while, your knees tucked up to your chest, as you sat in your guilt. You had known it was stupid of you to have ever let things turn anything other than platonic with him - it had been undeniably fun, but he was your roommate, for fuck’s sake. You had to see him every day, eat your meals with him. Had you not selfishly let yourself go there in the first place, you’d be cuddled up beside him tonight. 

It had been so lovely having any kind of affection - platonic or otherwise - that you let yourself get carried away. 

When you finally got up and went to bed, Josh’s light was still on, his door shut for one of the first times since you moved in. 

+++

Kate took you out for breakfast on Saturday morning to a local hole-in-the-wall that she swore had the very best pancakes she’d ever eaten. She had shown up in a puffer jacket that looked so warm, it made you jealous. 

You’d been chatting easily about your classes and the play, but when you had finished your first cup of coffee, there was a lull in the conversation. 

You hadn’t meant to say it, it just bubbled out. “I slept with Josh.”

She glanced up at you through her jet black lashes, stony-faced. “Yeah,” she replied, way too calm, sounding like she was wondering why you were even telling her.

You blinked at her for a moment. “Did you hear me? I had sex with Josh.”

She nodded. “Do you want me to pretend like I’m shocked?”

You grimaced at her, and in a whiny tone, responded, “Yes, please.”

A nervous laugh escaped her as she fixed her features to display a surprised expression. “You did what?!” she asked - purely for your benefit. 

You groaned at her. “Okay, I get it. I feel so bad about it, Kate.”

Her cherry lips shaped into a puzzled frown.  “Why?”

A deep sigh filled your ribcage - you had been hoping it would clear your head, but no luck. 

“Because I desperately miss being able to be platonically intimate with him and it not being awkward. Before this, I was sleeping in his bed from time to time when I got too cold and we would cuddle.”

“Why can’t you go back to that?” 

“Are you listening? I slept with him,” you groaned. “All I can think about is him on top of me now.”

She scoffed, her chipped nails tapping against her glass of diet Coke. “Imagine how he feels - Josh had real, honest to god feelings for you, I think. Like for a while.”

“You said that, but I don’t know. How do you know that he didn’t just want to sleep with me? Like not in a conscious way, but what if he just wanted affection? What then, Kate?”

She had one dark eyebrow raised at you as she sipped at her straw. “Because I know that’s not true.”

“How would you be able to know that? Because you see him sometimes at school-” 

She cut you off with a confident smile. “I know because I talked to Jake about it.”

You almost blew past it - that is until you realized what she had said. The two of you shared a long, silent moment as you stared at each other. 

“You’ve been talking to Jake?” you asked, trying to keep your tone even so she didn’t know how excited that made you. 

“I have talked to him in the past, yes. He said that he already knew, but he was able to pry it out of Josh when he was drunk once.” 

You stared at her. “Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here right now, I think we can both agree with that. But can we start with you and Jake?” 

She huffed a disbelieving laugh as she set her hand on yours on the table comfortingly like she was trying to cushion the news. “Josh has some feelings for you - the real kind.”

In an effort to prolong the moment that it was time for you to speak again, you picked up a bite of your breakfast and popped it in your mouth. The moment always comes though, no matter how long you try to put it off. 

“I can’t,” you said quietly, shaking your head in disappointment. Then when she prompted you with a confused look, you finished. “I can’t risk it. I mean, maybe there could be something there, but he’s my roommate. And my best friend - there’s no way I’d ever get lucky enough again to find someone I connected with like that if things went sour and I had to move out.”

She licked her lips absently. “My advice would be to think about it - for literally as long as you need to. I’m confident that you’ll figure out what you want.”

You nodded, not entirely convinced one way or another. “It’s hard because he’s so fucking cute,” you said in faux disgust. 

“And sweet,” she added. “Don’t forget that.”

You shot her an accusatory look. 

After a long pause, a smile found its way to your lips. “How cool would it be though if we were both dating one of them?” 

She laughed, picking a syrup-covered strawberry off her plate and chewing it with care. “Not me, I can’t be tamed. Jake is really hot and everything, but I got shit to do, you know?”

You scoffed at her. 

“I’m definitely keeping him in my contacts though,” she said with mischievous eyes. 

+++

 You didn’t directly see Josh for the rest of the weekend, though he left evidence of his presence scattered through the apartment. He had left his hair mousse out on the sink and the toothpaste cap off of its tube in the bathroom, some crumbs of a sandwich he packed for lunch in the kitchen, and a note on his bedroom door. 

Can you please feed Penny a couple of flakes for dinner? If you have any time today, I’d appreciate it if you could spend some of it with her. See you sometime soon! - J

You plucked the paper off the door where it was barely hanging by a thin strip of green floral tape and smiled as you read it again. 

His bedroom was dim, hid away from the sun by his closed blinds. The desk by his door was covered in books - textbooks, music books, books for his English lit class, and one you’d seen him reading for fun on more than one occasion. On the hardwood floor next to his bed was a stack of papers, and even though you knew you shouldn’t you crouched to peek through them. 

They appeared to be rough drafts of plans for the play - nothing too exciting, but they were charmingly eccentric. He had done little doodles of his ideas for sets and props, even a whole sheet of costume ideas that caught your eye. You pulled it from the messy stack and folded it into your pocket. 

Careful not to spill any water, you moved Penny in her globe to your bedside table, but as you stared at her through the glass you frowned. 

You pulled your phone out and snapped a picture of her, trying to make sure you got an accurate portrayal of her size. She looked at you, sticking her lips out of the water in search of food. You remembered Josh’s warning about overfeeding her the first day you’d met him and it brought a genuine smile to your lips. You promised her you’d be back, holding your finger just above the water and letting her press her mouth to it. 

On the ride over to Petsmart, you had called your mom, asking if it would be okay if you borrowed some cash, to which she agreed to after her usual line of questioning. When you pulled into the parking lot, you checked your bank account just to make sure it transferred okay, always nervous that you’d get to the register and your card would decline.

You spent longer than you should have reading articles online as you studied the tanks, all set up in rows for purchase. They weren’t as expensive as you’d expect a water-sealed glass box to be, and after you were confident you had picked the right one, you still had plenty left in your budget for the dressings. 

You picked a couple of fun decorations - a fake log for her to hide in if she wanted to and one that looked like part of a broken Greecian statue. The part that took you the longest was picking out the healthiest-looking plants. You had read that goldfish often like to eat live plants, but you couldn’t bring yourself to buy fake ones - the plant lover in you knew it was a cardinal sin. 

A very kind cashier agreed to help you carry your haul to your car, even helping you shift it all correctly so you could make it fit. You left him a secret tip, even though he denied at first, and thanked him profusely.

Getting the tank into the apartment was the hardest part. You realized just how lucky you were that you didn’t live above the first floor. 

By the time you got the tank situated back on his dresser, your muscles - especially in your legs - were protesting, but you weren’t done yet. You grabbed an empty ice cream pail and started to fill the tank, one trip at a time until it was about 3/4’s full of water. 

The decorations had to be shifted multiple times before you liked their position enough to start pouring in the gravel around them. A Youtube tutorial taught you exactly how much of each chemical to add and how to put together the filter, and then you left it to cycle as you returned to your room.

Perched on your bed, you pulled the sheet of costumes from your pocket and studied it. You pinned it to your corkboard. Undeniably, the cutest design he had come up with was for the door mouse - grey fabric, huge ears, and a rope tail. 

The rest of the unfinished costumes were in a cardboard box by the side of your bed - you hadn’t moved it anywhere because you knew you’d be back at it before too long at any given time. You bent down off the side of your bed and rummaged through the different fabrics until you found the one you were looking for - a grey-blue faux suede deal. You were pretty sure you had enough to make it work. 

You fished your phone out from where you had buried it under the covers when you shifted and called the one person that could help. 

“Hello?” Kate mumbled, sounding like you’d just woken her up despite it being noon. 

You giggled at her. “Hi, I’m playing my best friend card. I know you’ve helped so much, but can you please please come work on these costumes with me?”

She hummed and then went silent for a good, long moment. “Give me ten to wake up and get dressed.”

A beaming smile spread across your face. “Kate, I love you so much. I’m going to Venmo you money to get coffee and donuts, okay?”

“Hmm, I do like donuts.” She sounded pleased.

“Good! Bring Jake too.”

+++

The knock on your door came a half-hour later. You jumped from your bed, racing to let them in. Jake was dressed in the softest-looking flannel shirt you’d ever seen, a drink carrier in his hands that housed three drink cups. 

“Okay, so there are three jobs that need to be done. Measuring and marking, cutting, and sewing. If we each take one of those jobs, I’m confident we can finish a couple of the costumes today. I’ll let you guys pick first,” you informed as you lead them into your room. 

“I’ll take cutting,” Kate said, prompting Jake to reply that he’d like measuring. 

You handed Jake the notebook of measurements with a grin. “Rachel,” you started with a sneer. “Did a lot of the calculations for us, thank god. All you have to do is measure out the fabric. The tricky part is making sure you do it in a way that will leave enough fabric for the rest of the costumes.”

“Not a problem,” Jake responded with a smirk. “And I think her name is just ‘Rachel’, not ‘Rachel’.”

Kate shot him a look on your behalf. “I think she was just making a referencing the fact that Rachel left your brother with a huge ass list of things to do completely alone, not that she was jealous.”

“Jealous of what?” you asked accusatorily, a scowl painted on your face. 

Jake put both of his hands up in defense., but he didn’t appear apologetic in the slightest. Smugly, he said, “I’m just saying-”

Kate reached out and smacked his chest. “Jake, shut up. Okay, what one should we start on?”

“I’m going to have Jake start with this one.” You turned to the page in the notebook that showed the measurements for the door mouse, laying it out by him. “This is the main fabric. Kate, I have a lot of the Queen of Heart’s fabric measured and marked already, so I’ll have you start cutting that. There’s a lot of little pieces to that one.”

Kate looked at the six different fabrics you’d laid out for her, one eyebrow cocked at you. “Have you been getting any of your own homework done at all?”

Your cheeks flushed as you nervously rubbed at the back of your neck. “Let’s stay on track, shall we?” you replied, pretty much answering her question. “We’ve got one week until the production, and I know the costumes have to be done at least a day ahead of time.”

They both just stared at you in varying stages of disbelief. 

“Don’t look at me like that. We can do this,” you assured, sounding a hell of a lot more confident than you actually were. “Now let’s get to work.”

+++

When Josh got home, you were nearly sleeping on the couch, the remains of your current project in your lap. You peeked at the clock.

10:54 pm. 

“You’re home so late,” you whispered, for no particular reason. 

“I know,” he agreed, wiping his hand over his face after he took his jacket off. 

“Come sit with me a minute,” you requested, shifting so he would have space. He gave you a grateful smile, immediately crossing the room to do as he was told. 

After a moment, he cautiously wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Is this okay?” he asked quietly. 

You gave him a smile. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

You knew he must have been tired because he wasn’t talking a mile a minute like you were used to after not seeing him for long. 

“Are you hungry?” you asked.

He hummed, sounding like he was close to passing out. “I am, but I can make myself something.”

You scoffed, “Absolutely not. You got get into bed and I’ll bring something to you in a second.”

He reluctantly got up off the couch and clambered into his room. You waited patiently for him to notice the surprise, grinning to yourself when you heard him gasp. 

You listened as you made him a sandwich, and you couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but you knew he was talking to Penny just by the tone of his voice.

As you rounded the corner into his room, he turned and gave you a smile as bright as the sun. 

“Did you do this, or did Fish Santa come early?” he asked, his finger pressed against the glass of the tank. 

“Well, kind of both,” you responded through a laugh as you sat next to him on the bed and delivered his sandwich to his lap. “You can consider it your early Christmas present.”

He stared at you for a long beat, looking like he might cry. You knew you’d never be able to handle that, so you pulled him in for a hug, tightening your arms around him when he hugged you back. 

“You’ve been working so hard,” you whispered. “I miss my best friend.”

He turned his face, pressing his nose into your cheek in a move that felt a step or two farther than friends.

“I’ve put everything I have into this,” he admitted, and you were too scared to ask if he meant the play or something else. You sat like that with him for a long moment before he pulled away, giving you a thankful smile. 

“I’m sure you need time to decompress, so I’ll leave you be. Eat and then get some sleep, okay?” You stood and headed for the door, turning when he called your name. 

“Thank you,” he said.

[bookishofalder]

Pretty Girl

Pairing - Flip Zimmerman X Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, swearing, smoking, crime, (eventual) smut, racism (no slurs), sexism, general views/language of the time. 

A/N: Well, here’s the prologue to the multi-chapter fic I’m working on! I hope you enjoy, feedback welcome and appreciated, especially if you notice any over-description of the reader! This is a female reader based fic.

Flip Zimmerman sauntered into the Colorado Springs police department early Monday morning, his black hair in need of a trim, a bit of a shadow darkening his unshaven face. He’d had the previous week off, after wrapping up the Klan investigation with Jimmy and Ron. The chief had insisted they each take some time, and Flip ended up taking the whole week, though he knew his partner opted to simply take a day, and Ron only a few more than that. 

But Flip had needed the break-the case had exhausted him. It had drained him mentally to pretend to be one of the Klan, to agree with their views and utter slurs as if they rolled naturally off of his tongue. No, he had felt each moment with them chip away a little at his soul. So he took the time off; went fishing, watched television, did some work on his home, and spent some time with his family, who rarely got to see him. He didn’t live far from his parents, but with the hours he took on, it had been hard to visit often. They understood, but Flip knew his mother wished he would settle down, start a family of his own. She hated that he came home to an empty house, with no warm meal ready and waiting. Flip didn’t mind it so much, he was too busy at work to notice the void.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Flip wasn’t at his desk for more than twenty minutes before Jimmy came in, all smiles for Flip’s reappearance.

“Flip, welcome back kid.” Clapping his shoulder, Jimmy sank into his chair and fixed Flip with a knowing stare from across their desks. Flip frowned, wondering what had his friend in a chipper mood early on a Monday morning.

“Jimmy, the fuck are you staring at?” Flip grumbled though the threat in his voice was laced with affection for the man he’d called 'partner' for years now. 

More detectives and office workers began to filter in, coffees in hand, all greeting Flip with casual ease before they settled in and began their workdays. 

Jimmy shook his head, “Nothing, just glad to see your miserable face back, it’s been an interesting week.” The mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise. 

Flip didn’t look up at Jimmy’s words, merely smirking in response. He noticed then a neat stack of files on the left-hand side of his desk. When he grabbed the first, curious, he saw it was a case file of his, only it had been organized, and some of the sections of the report had been filled out for him. He stared a moment, shocked, before glancing up at Jimmy-whole was, annoyingly, still watching Flip.

He held up the file, “You do this, Jimmy?” 

But he was shaking his head before Flip finished speaking, “Nah don’t like you enough.” He didn’t elaborate and Flip was too stubborn to press the issue. Whatever. 

Flip glanced at the other files and saw they were the same. Someone had taken his paperwork, organized it and fill in the sections that were mostly clerical information, before returning them to his desk for him to finalize and submit. He had come in early specifically to finish off these files, and now his two-hour backlog was reduced to maybe thirty minutes of work. Impressed, and grateful, he began to work through the stack with his notes. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the gesture-wherever it came from-was more than welcome. Paperwork was the least appealing part of this job.

At nine, the station was buzzing with activity normal for weekdays. Ron had greeted Flip warmly when he came in, advising him that Sergeant Trapp wanted to see them in his office in an hour, before moving to his desk and checking his messages. And while it felt like any other day in Colorado Springs, Flip, ever the detective, noticed the moment the atmosphere in the bullpen shifted. Every man in the room seemed far too damn chipper. 

He glanced up from proofreading his work to find many of his colleagues glancing toward the glass wall and doorway that led to the hallway, beyond which and out of sight, was the front lobby and administration desk. 

After a few moments, Flip turned his chair to face Ron, whose desk was behind his own, only to see his friend doing the same thing. He frowned, “The hell is everyone in a tizzy for, Rookie?”

Ron grinned, “Chief hired a new secretary for the front desk-“

“What, Donna finally got herself a helper?” Flip cut in, referring to the homely but overworked secretary that had been asking for a second in command for years, during which team the operation of the division had nearly doubled.

“Yep,” Ron nodded, “And Donna already looks like it’s made a world of difference for her, but wait until you meet, she’s incredible. Nicest lady I’ve ever met.” 

Flip rolled his eyes at this proclamation and spun back around, stacking his files together. He was glad to hear Donna had the help she needed now, it was a long time coming and would certainly make a difference for the entire station. Donna was like the mother hen, taking care of everything from coffee to endless paperwork, dealing with the public that came in, and everything else they could throw at her. She never complained, but always made the point of saying things would happen quicker if she were two people. He wondered what it would be like to have another Donna type woman in the office, but intended on giving it no further thought.

That is until he heard the distinct click of heels coming down the hallway, and glanced up, half interested, at the sound. 

He did a double-take when he saw her and felt himself freeze. Stunned into stillness, Flip immediately felt that Ron using the term ‘incredible’ to describe the new secretary was entirely understating this woman. Everyone’s heads in the room turned her way, and it wasn’t just anyone who could unknowingly conjure up that kind of reaction.

Dressed in a fashionably smart secretary dress, which was a shade of dark blue that perfectly accentuated her skin, the woman was breathtaking. Curvy, with long (Y/H/C) spilling down her back in soft waves, she wore kitten heels that gave her a small amount of extra height, yet she was still short. She walked with an air of peaceful grace, carrying a large basket in her arms. But it was her smile, dazzling and genuine, that captured his attention.

Flip had to shake his head slightly, dragging his eyes away from the beautiful creature dancing into the bullpen. He refocused on his files, hoping to look busy, all the while straining his ears to hear her speak.

“Happy Monday, boys.” She sang, and a chorus of good mornings and hello’s filled the air, “I hope you like banana bread because I’ve got two fresh loaves here, one plain and one with chocolate chips-Jimmy, I made that for you.” And Flip looked up in surprise in time to see her wink at Jimmy, who gave an appreciative laugh, then thanked her. 

She had set the basket down next to the water station, where there was a small foldout table set up. Sure enough, she pulled out two loaves of bread, already cut and laid out in smaller basket trays for them. She made quick work of setting out the loaves, plates and napkins before reaching into the basket, pulling something out she had wrapped in sandwich paper, and spinning around toward Flip.

He dropped his gaze before she noticed him, now making work of organizing his desk-why the hell was he suddenly so nervous? From behind him, Flip heard Ron give a small groan, “Tell me you didn’t.” But he sounded delighted.

“Ron, of course I did, don’t be so silly, it’s nothing.” This captured Flip’s attention entirely, and he gave up the pretence of tidying his desk to turn around and see what she had passed him. Inside the wrap was a slice of pineapple upside-down cake. Ron pinched a piece off with his fingers and tried it, giving an appreciative nod.

“That’s just like I remember, thank you.” He noticed Flip watching with a frown and grinned, “Oh, now, you two haven’t met yet, Flip’s just come back from vacation.” He clapped his hands together. 

Flip looked away from Ron and met the (y/e/c) eyes of the young woman standing a few feet away, who wasn’t much taller standing than Flip was seated. She reacted first, though Flip did notice her eyes widen slightly before she stepped forward, all smiles.

“Detective Zimmerman, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m (Y/F/N).” She stuck her hand out. Flip automatically grasped it, noticing how entirely tiny her hand was in his own. 

He tried to smile, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. Please, call me Flip.” She smiled at his words and Flip suddenly felt like his brain might be needing a jump start, as it was the prettiest smile he’d ever had directed at him. He felt warm and craved a cigarette. Or a cold shower. 

“Well, Flip, only if you call me (y/n).” 

Ron had watched the entire exchange with a shit-eating grin on his face, “(Y/N) here is an amazing baker, in addition to her many other skills that Donna can’t stop raving about, so before you know it, Zimmerman, you’ll be sporting a few extra pounds.” 

(Y/N) giggled. Truly giggled, and Flip found himself surveying her, trying to decide how old she was. She carried herself with a confidence and ease that seemed mature, yet she did appear youthful in many ways. “It’s what I’m known for, leaving heavyset men behind me everywhere I go.” She held up her hands, as if in defence of herself. 

Flip snorted, “And you take special requests?” He asked, nodding at the cake on Rons' desk.

“Oh, well that was actually what I baked for Sunday supper for my sister and me,” She leaned against Ron’s desk, her hands neatly folded in front of her, “And when I told Ron here what I was planning, he asked for a slice because I make it like his aunt used to.” She shrugged, giving Ron a friendly smile.

“It tastes exactly like hers, (Y/N), you’re the best.” 

“You two seem awfully, uh, close.” Flip remarked, and while Ron seemed unfazed and unbothered by the comment, he noticed that (Y/N) seemed to flinch slightly at the words, her smile disappearing. 

Flip knew he was a gruff, grumpy son of a bitch, but he was also always like that, and no one ever seemed to care. Now though, the tone and accusation that she might have assumed from his observation seemed to hit a nerve, and her demeanour shifted, embarrassed.

“Oh, yes, well Ron’s been a gem, being pretty new here himself. He’s helped show me the ropes,” She murmured, “I should get back to it-nice to meet you, Detective.” And she hurried away, still taking time to greet those she passed, before disappearing down the hall.

“Man, Zimmerman, you have a way with the ladies.” Ron deadpanned, shaking his head at Flip, who was staring toward the hallway feeling both annoyed and guilty. He glared at Ron, who was shaking his head, a hand clapped dramatically to his face, “A real Romeo.”

“Fuck off, Rookie,” He growled. A thought jumped at him then, “Wait, is she the one who did all this-‘ He gestured at his files ‘While I was off?”

Ron rolled his eyes now, “Of course she did-she helps everyone stay on top of paperwork. When I told her you were off last week, she made a point of getting you all caught up.” Again, Flip stared down the hall, his mind working. 

He just wasn’t very good at socializing, or making friends. He was gruff and sarcastic and his sheer size usually kept others at a distance. He had a hard time knowing the right thing to say, especially to someone as pretty and kind as (Y/N). He hadn’t thought his words would come out the way they did, sounding accusatory, and he wished he could take them back. 

- 

Over an hour later, Flip was still replaying the interaction in his mind, over and over. When he, Ron and Jimmy re-emerged from Sarge’s office, new assignments in hand, he had come to a decision. He had never been one to simply leave something unaddressed, not if it bothered him. And while he was certainly terrible at socializing, he would never stand for himself to be ungentlemanly. First impressions were important, and he intended to correct this one.

While Ron and Jimmy continued toward the bullpen, Flip turned right and stomped down the hallway, entirely missing his friends exchange a knowing look behind his back. As he approached the front desk, his eyes peeled looking for her (y/h/c) hair, he was surprised to notice how tidy and welcoming it now looked. 

(Y/N) had made quick work of reorganizing and decorating, which was probably why Donna was nowhere to be found, no doubt in the files room making work of the backlog she’d been complaining about for years. Flip figured she must be in the best mood of her life. 

The reception was empty, however, and Flip wondered where (Y/N) must be. He continued to march forward, considering if he should look around for her, or wait at the desk, when a door on his left, which led to the bathrooms, opened. Before Flip could stop, she was suddenly hurrying out of the doorway and slammed directly into his side, gasping in surprise.

Flip had just managed to turn his body slightly toward her before they collided, allowing his arms to shoot out and large hands to grab her shoulders as she bounced off of him and fell backwards. Steadying her, he peered, “Damn it, darling, I’m sorry-are you alright?” 

She was wide-eyed, her head tilted back to meet his eyes. He released her, taking a polite half step back. “I’m fine, goodness, I should apologize, I ran out of there like a bat out of hell.” Her hands moved to her waist, where her dress tie sat, and began to redo the knot absentmindedly. 

Flip raised a brow, “Something scare ya?” When her face flushed at his words, his eyes drank in the sight, heart rate speeding somewhat. He watching her curiously.

“I, um,” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly as if attempting to find the strength to speak, “It’s silly, I was washing my hands and noticed a big spider and I really, really hate spiders-I live alone and I can never kill them easily, I always get the broom so I can stay far back, so I thought I’d run out here and find a broom-“ Abruptly, she stopped speaking when Flip began to laugh, and after a moment of uncertainty, a smile spread across her face-dazzling white teeth on display.

“I can kill it for ya’, no need to resort to desperate measures,” He joked, happy to see his words cause her to giggle slightly, “But do me a favour?” He added, his expression becoming serious. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him curiously, “What’s that, detective?”

Flip took a breath, “Accept my apology, for earlier,” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I’m a grumpy S-O-B and my words came out harsher than I intended, I only meant to tease. I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair nervously as he spoke.

She seemed to consider his words for a moment, crossing her arms across her chest, a small smile on her pretty lips. Flip kept his eyes on her face, not wanting to be disrespectful by ogling her, but it was impossible not to notice the way her bust pressed out when her arms wrapped under them. He needed a cigarette. And probably a proper smack around the head. 

“Of course I accept, detective,” (Y/N) was smiling properly now, “Jimmy warned me you were a mean lumberjack-his word, not mine. I just-“ She paused, “Worried I’d given the wrong impression, is all. I’ve got a good work ethic and don’t want anyone thinking I’m silly or chatty over hardworking.” 

Flip was surprised at how serious her tone turned, her words heavy with concern. “You organized all my files for me, while I was off?” 

“Yes-why?” 

Flip laughed, “Darling, that knocked two hours of painful catch-up off my plate and we hadn’t even met before, I can already tell you’re impressive, so if anyone here ever tries to question that, you send them to me.” He huffed, glancing at the bathroom door, “I’ll go kill that monster in there for you.” 

She had flushed again at his words, something that sent a jolt of electricity through his core. Flip realized he was well and truly fucked for this woman, and he’d only known her an hour.

“Wait,” He paused at the door to the bathrooms, glancing back. She was giving him her best little grin now, “Thank you, Flip.” 

He merely nodded, before stepping through the doorway to kill the damned spider.

Although, he thought, maybe he should thank it instead.

Chapter 1

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

[august-grey]

i don't need your closure | chapter 7

read on ao3

masterpost

June 1986

That night Alice lay awake in her bed, eyes fixated on the glowing stars on her ceiling and trying not to think about that stupid zombie movie. Every little noise in the house had her on edge, ready to bolt. Scary movies always this effect on Alice. Not that she wasn’t used to her fair share of monsters; the ones on screen so laughably paled in comparison to the real horrors Alice had seen. And yet here she was, adrenaline pumping and unable to stop imagining flesh-eating beasts in every dark corner of her bedroom.

Without taking her eyes off a particularly suspicious shadow, Alice reached over to her bedside table, fumbling to open the drawer and locate the flashlight inside. She flicked it on, did a sweep of the room, and huffed out a sigh. No zombies, no demogorgons, no scary Russians. Just a couple stacks of boxes and an overactive imagination.

Unfortunately, now that the suspicious shadow had successfully been identified as a laundry hamper, Alice’s mind had time to find another hole to spiral down. It was something she found herself doing periodically for almost half a year now. Alice had made a vow to herself after Christmas break that she was not going to let herself turn into one of those girls who wastes their time pining over some guy who clearly didn’t want to be with them. She let herself have exactly one good, embarrassing cry and that was that.

After that Alice made it a point to throw herself into college life. When she wasn’t in class or studying, she tried her damnedest to forget about Hawkins and the heartache it held over her. She made friends, she went to parties with said friends, she’d even gone on a couple dates. Not that the dates had led to anything more serious than a few short-lived flings, but the point, whether Alice realized it or not, was to get Steve fucking Harrington out of her head. And, for the most part, it worked. Even after the letters started pouring in, Alice simply chucked them in the box under her bed and went about her life.

Coming home had completely derailed this, obviously. And now here she was, wide awake at 3:30 in the morning, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the way Steves’s hands had felt against the sensitive skin on her wrist. How gently he had taken care of her, despite literally spilling her guts all over his sneakers. Alice hated it. She hated that Steve wasn’t being the villain she had made him out to be in her head. The villan she wanted him to be so she could rationalize why he had treated their friendship like it was nothing.

Mostly she hated that, in spite of everything, she couldn’t hate Steve.

Alice rolled onto her stomach, pressed her face into the pillow, and screamed. Then, resigning to the fact that she wasn’t about to sleep anytime soon, she threw back the sheets and began her morning.

Five hours later, it was Dustin’s turn to wake up to a homecooked meal. He sat at the kitchen table, blurry-eyed and yawning, as an over-caffeinated Alice loaded his plate with chocolate-chip-and-bacon pancakes.

“Coffee? Orange juice? Water?” She shook a mug and a glass in Dustin’s general direction, before putting the glass back in the cupboard when he signaled toward the mug. Alice placed the steaming liquid beside his plate and topped her own cup off for good measure. He grumbled his thanks.

Seemingly satisfied for the moment, Alice lowered herself into the seat across from her brother as he dug into his pancakes. She’d had a productive morning, to say the least. It started with stress baking a few (8) dozen white-chocolate raspberry cookies and, after eying up a bunch of browning bananas on the counter, a couple loaves of banana bread. After packaging up about half of her spoils for her mother to bring to work that night and throwing the rest in Tupperware, Alice deep-cleaned the kitchen. It started with cleaning up her own mess and had quickly devolved to scrubbing out the refrigerator and waxing the floors.

“Alice?” Dustin was eyeing her warily. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Like what?” She cocked her head.

“You haven’t blinked in like, two minutes. And your eye is twitching. How much coffee have you had?”

“Oh, three or four.”

“Cups?”

“Pots.”

Dustin gently pried the mug from her hands and took it, along with his empty plate, to the sink and gave them a quick wash.

“So what are you up to today?” She asked, watching as he placed the clean dishes in the drying rack.

“Well, I’ve got work in an hour and after that we were all gonna see what’s playing at the drive-in. Which you’re totally invited to. In fact, I insist you go. I don’t think we’ll all fit in one car, so…” He gave an intentional pause and Alice chose to ignore her brother’s obvious attempt to get her to offer up her car to cart the young teens to the movie.

“Dusty, you got a job?” Alice asked softly. First he was cooking, now he had a job? Her little brother was growing up far too quickly for her liking. “That’s amazing!”

“I’m just bagging groceries over at Bradley’s.” Dustin blushed, brushing off her remark. “It’s nothing special, but it’s something.”

“It’s not nothing, Dustin. I’m so proud of you.” She rose from her seat to envelop Dustin in a tight hug, ruffling his hair as he tried to squirm out of her embrace. He let out a loud groan of protest and finally wretched his way free.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s great. Anyway,” Dustin grumbled, patting his head in an attempt to tame his wild curls. Turning back toward her, he looked up at Alice with pleading eyes.“Drive-in? 7:00? Yes?”

She considered it for a long moment. Of course Alice wanted to spend more time with her brother. But did really want to spend her first Saturday home from college watching movies with a bunch of fifteen-year-olds? Unsurprisingly, she came to the conclusion that yes, she did. It’s not like she had anything better to do. And besides, she missed the little hooligans.

“You know I can’t say no to that face,” She relented. Dustin smiled triumphantly, clearly pleased with himself.

“Do you want a ride?” Alice asked, following her brother down the hall toward their bedrooms. “I have some errands to run in town, some Robins to bother at work. Bradley’s is on the way.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!” He grinned. “Lemme get ready and we can leave.”

*~*

A half hour later Alice stood by the front door, arms loaded with video tapes and bags of cookies, lightly bouncing on the ball of her feet with pent-up energy. Dustin was taking his time making sure he looked just right, carefully tying his shoes and straightening the plastic nametag on his chest.

“You look great, bud.” Alice huffed impatiently, watching the boy adjust his hair in the small mirror in the entryway. “You good to go?”

Dustin snuck a glance out the window, before turning his attention back to the mirror, now picking an invisible piece of lint from his collar. Alice adjusted the stack of movie returns in her arms, frowning at her brother as his eyes flitted toward the window again. His eyes widened slightly and turned back toward the kitchen.

“Sorry! I forgot…uh…my nametag. In my room. I’ll meet you in the car!” He chittered, trailing off as he turned the corner. Rolling her eyes at his antics, Alice plucked her keys from the hook on the wall, swung the door open, and promptly walked straight into the mailman. The man let out an “oof” as they collided, before stumbling back a few steps.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Blushing furiously, Alice immediately deposited the tapes and baked goods she had miraculously managed not to drop onto a nearby chair and bent over to gather the envelopes she had knocked from his hands. She stacked them into a neat pile, straightened herself, and held them out to the poor mailman she had accosted. “Are you okay? I hope I didn’t — oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

She really shouldn’t be surprised at this point. Clearly the universe was working against Alice, because there was no other explanation for Steve gave her a small, sheepish “thanks” before taking the outstretched letters from her hands. She glared at him, flabbergasted, as he quickly flipped through them. The fact that he managed to look so good in the postal uniform infuriated Alice. Honestly, who gave him the right?

“How are you feeling—“

“When did you start—“

They began at the same time, simultaneously talking over one another and cutting the other short. Alice clamped her mouth shut as Steve let out a nervous chuckle.

“How are you feeling?” He repeated, giving her a once over, as though checking for signs of lingering illness from the previous day.

“Oh, uh, good. Better, thanks. When did you start…all this?” Alice gestured vaguely at his uniform (complete with a pair of navy shorts that rivaled the ones he’d worn the previous summer, Alice couldn’t help but notice) and giant mailbag slung over his shoulder.

“Uhh, end of March, beginning of April? I just started my solo route a couple weeks ago.” It was hard to ignore the pride in his voice and Alice smiled despite herself. Just for a second she let the icy wall she had built melt just a little bit.

“That’s great, Steve. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Al.” He grinned and gave the mail in his hand a little shake. Reaching around Alice, he tucked it into the mailbox and backed toward the driveway. “Anyway, I better…”

“Oh, yeah.” Alice snapped herself out of the hold Steve had put her under. “Yeah, I’ve gotta get Dustin to work.”

“I’ll see you around?” She refrained from rolling her eyes, opting for a tight-lipped smile instead.

“Bye, Steve.”

Alice waited until Steve was safely out of sight before settling herself behind the wheel of her car. She huffed and slunk down in her seat. For the second time in less than a day she had been caught off guard by Steve Harrington. And where the hell was Dustin? If it hadn’t been for his excessive grooming they would have been long gone before Steve had shown up. How long could it possibly take to grab a damn nametag?

Wait. Wait. Alice straightened in her seat as something clicked. Dustin was wearing his nametag. In a flash she was out of the car and storming back toward the house.

“DUSTIN!”

*~*

“Please. Please, please, please.”

“Oh my god, fine! I’ll go! But for the record, I think you’re being paranoid and everything about this is ridiculous.”

Alice let out a squeal and threw her arms around Robin. The younger girl groaned and gently pried Alice’s arms from around her neck. Alice leaned back on the glass displaycase, a huge grin on her face. She had just finished recounting the humiliation of the past 24 hours, sparing no detail. And now, on top of it all, Alice was convinced that Dustin was up to something. After laying out the evidence and with a little help from bribery cookies, Alice managed to successfully convince Robin that she absolutely needed backup at the drive-in with the kids.

“I’m just saying, last time Dustin was acting this cagey we ended up almost getting eaten my his pet monster. I think its only natural to be apprehensive with the kid.” Bracing her palms on the laminate countertop, Alice heaved herself up to sit next to the plastic bins of colorful candy. She dug a quarter from the pocket of her jean shorts before fishing a Tootsie Pop from its display box.

Robin raised a single judging brow as Alice deposited her quarter into Robin’s open palm. She turned toward the register and punched a few keys, “You better not let Keith see you up there.”

“Please, what’s he going to do?” Alice scoffed. “Ban me from the store? I don’t think so.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. He’s been on a tirade this week with all the kids coming in looking for Summer work. I mean, Keith’s always been…picky…with employees, but he went nuts trying to find Steve’s replacement after he flaked last year. Now he’s looking for my replacement for the fall and I swear he’s interviewed about 20 people. For a freaking video store. The most difficult things we do here is tracking down overdue rentals.”

“I guess it makes sense, Family Video is a fine establishment. Keith only wants the best employees who can truly appreciate the true art of stocking VHS tapes.” Alice paused for a moment, carefully choosing her words so it didn’t seem like she was digging for information. “Dustin mentioned something last night. About Steve flaking on work, not showing up, acting weird. Not that it’s any of my business, but you don’t happen to know—“

“Nope, not my story to tell. That’s something you’re going to have to talk to Harrington about.” Robin crossed her arms, immediately catching on to her friend’s antics.

“Yeah, that’s probably not going to happen.” Alice huffed out a sigh. “I shouldn’t even care and he made it perfectly clear he doesn’t want to share anything about his life with me anymore, so. Whatever.”

“Have you talked to him since…y’know.” Robin probed gently.

“No. I mean, not really. We spoke yesterday and this morning, obviously. But we haven’t talked.” Alice hopped down from the counter, tossing the stick of her lollipop into the small trash bin. “But it doesn’t matter. What does matter is you. And college. And Chicago! Are you pumped or what?”

Robin mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “stubborn idiots” under her breath. Alice shot her a glare, and she held her hands up in surrender, effectively dropping the subject.

They chatted a while about Robin’s college plans between customers coming in to rent or return movies. During a particularly busy period, Alice grabbed a stack of precessed returns and began to reshelve them. She strolled leisurely through the isles, methodically scanning the titles, placing each tape where it belonged.

On her way back to the front of the store to retrieve another stack, Alice heard the bell chime, indicating another customer entering or leaving the store. It wasn’t this that sent Alice’s heart racing, but Robin’s voice loudly, practically shouting, “Oh! Steve! Here with the mail! What a surprise!”

Without thinking twice, Alice ducked behind the closest shelf, jostling a few tapes over in the process. She quickly righted them, hoping no one heard the ruckus.

“Uhh, yep. Me! With the mail! Just like always!” She heard the confusion in Steves voice, and risked a peek around the corner. Robin stood stiffly at the register, eyes darting around before locking on Alice. She raised her eyebrows and jerked her head ever-so-slightly in Steve’s direction, as if Alice couldn’t see him standing right next to her. His brow was furrowed, holding out a small stack of letters toward an obviously distracted Robin. To Alice’s horror, he began to turn his head to follow Robin’s gaze.

Alice jerked herself out of his line of sight and backed her way down the isle, deeper into the store. Once she felt she was safely out of sight, Alice silently listened to Robin and Steve’s muffled conversation and waited for the tell-tale chime of the door to let her know it was clear to come out of hiding.

This was ridiculous. Alice seethed in silence, staring into the eyes of the cartoon bear on the poster pasted to the wall in front of her. As much as she wanted to avoid Steve, she couldn’t do this all summer. She and Steve shared friends, best friends, in fact. They were bound to keep running into each other. Alice was just going to have to find a way to deal with it. Yes. She was just going to have to find a way to keep her heart from beating out of her chest every time she heard his voice. She’d have to stop herself from acknowledging the heartbreak that burned itself to rage whenever she let herself think about what they shared before everything had gone to shit.

It couldn’t be that hard to ignore the the hollow pit in her stomach at the thought of his stupid, beautiful face, Alice thought bitterly to herself.

“I’m leaving!” Alice nearly jumped out of her skin at Steve’s proclamation. “You’re safe to come out now, Alice!”

Letting out a defeated groan, Alice trudged back to the checkout counter and a grimacing Robin. This summer was going to be a nightmare.

[marchessa]

Prank wars à la Ghost Fam headcanons

Everyone needs some fun in their lives. If it can be reached by making pranks against others, and hope they humiliate themselves, then so be it! Some harmless jokes to pass the time is an usual occurrence at the Ghost Fam. At the first round no-one went atomic, maybe next time...

 Four would be the one who glues fake electrical socket stickers to the wall, which is probably the least harmful of his jokes. Three falls for it every time. 

Five is a nice person, so the only time she did a prank she felt sorry for making it even weeks after. She could only think of the classic dirty coin prank, -where she rubbed a pencil on the edge of the of a coin, and bet with the others that they couldn't roll it down on their face in a straight line,- but she carried it out with every member of the team except Two. Two is too scary. One, Three and Four spent the whole day with their face smudged with the line.

Seven at one occasion bought some takeaway food for himself and the others. He put fake cockroaches in Four's meal and some of the other containers. When they all sat down to eat, Four laughed at him if that's the best he came come up when he saw the plastic insects. Three laughed along, and lifted up one really realistic looking one then, he threw it away screaming, and pushed his container away, when his cockroaches started to crawl out the food box. After that, they all solemnly agreed not to use live animals in their pranks.

Three wanted to play a prank on One, so he put flour in the blowdryer, but thanks to some unfortunate events, it was Two who used it, when the one in her Bathroom broke. Needless to mention, that Two went on a rampage, hunting down the culprit. It wasn't a nice ending... definitely not something Three would forget soon.

Two is refusing to participate in something as silly as this. She also threatened everyone with bodily harm, if they dare to prank her. No one did... or at least not intentionally. 

One scratched some haunting things on the freshly purchased bananas. For example ' I know what you did.' or " I wouldn't close my eyes in your place tonight." Hours later the sentenced appeared on it, giving almost a cardiac arrest to an unsuspecting Four when he went to the kitchen looking for some healthy snack. Sometimes he still has nightmares about the bananas knowing his deepest secrets...

Four once put peanut butter on Seven's face, and let Wally inside his bedroom. Seven woke up to Wally licking his face clean of the treat. After the disgusting experience, Seven swore revenge on the younger boy.

Seven put pink hair dye in Four's shampoo bottle. Four walked around with pink hair for weeks because no matter how many times he washed his hair, the pink colour stubbornly stayed. At least Five complimented his new hairdo.

Four, being a man of focus, commitment and sheer fucking will, replaced the cream in a full packet of Oreos with toothpaste, and offered it to Three as a snack.

As the blond boy notoriously hated every kind of housework, including cleaning, Seven filled some glasses with water, and put them on the kitchen counter upside down, after securing it, so the water would pour out only when the glasses were lifted and left a note with ' Good luck with cleaning that up.' for Four.

Four flattened some PlayDoh out, cut it into pieces, and wrapped into chewing gum paper, leaving it around the Head Quarters. Most of the others fell for it. Sometimes they still can find fake gums around the place.

Four being in his element with the ongoing prank war, also prepared Mentos ice bombs and watched gleefully when it almost exploded in One's face.

One goes for the more classical pranks usually, like switching salt with sugar and vice versa. He didn't know the others expected this, and the next morning when he woke up and thought someone already must have fallen for the prank, prepared some coffee for himself. Well, he was wrong and played himself with that one.

Four once stuck some transparent duct tape across entryways, alternating between putting it in eye level, and knee-high. Three run into some of these traps, so the others decided to sit down, and wait until Three carelessly cleared the way for them, ultimately getting caught every single tape in the Head Quarters alone.

[bangtanbetchfics]

Aerodynamics (m) | iv: turbulence

genre: smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit pairing: kim namjoon x female reader x idol!jeon jungkook word count: 5.2k suggested listening: sorry - aoa | day dream - nct 127 | what you wanted - cix | who - lauv ft. bts | playlist warnings: explicit language, explicit/casual sex summary: after you're forced to work with your ex on a high-class flight for a celebrity client, regrets are surfaced and memories are created that you won't soon forget. notes: it's been awhile! had to work head-down through some critical work deadlines (and now we're all in quarantine) so please expect more works from me in the near future. this series keeps going and going! a lot of readers are very into this universe, so i've been getting a lot of requests to continue. thank you so much navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | iv | v: finale. | masterlist.

“You two are familiar with each other, right?”

Jimin inquires in your direction, already knowing the answer to the question well. 

Too well.

Two sleek black cars hum just outside of the airport terminal’s glass doors.

You stand -- arms crossed -- as you look up and lock eyes with...Kim Namjoon.

Your ex.

Your auras radiate a livid energy, and your eyes burn a scorching heat into each other.

Namjoon hollows his cheeks in displeasure as you look him over from head-to-toe. 

Namjoon’s fully decked out in his crisp blue pilot hat and uniform, and he brings his hands up to adjust his tie. The thick veins in his hands catch your attention for a second before he straightens up and places his arms behind his back. He was taller than you remembered, and yet still slender and broad-chested.

Past encounters zip through each of your minds as you look at each other, and you each scoff under your breath.

The two of you ended things on the shittest of terms: you, wanting to take the next step of commitment with him -- and him, wanting it all in terms of his career instead.

Your priorities never aligned when it mattered -- at least until this very moment.

Namjoon’s eyes quickly rake over you before he swallows the lump in his throat, focusing his attention back on Jimin.

“I need the both of you to pull yourselves together. You -- you’re my best pilot, and you’re my best attendant,” Jimin continues, pressing his pointer fingers into both of your arms.

“The two of you will be working with one of my highest priority clients on his jet today,” Jimin hands the both of you a portfolio filled with details on the client and flight. 

Namjoon quickly flips through the paperwork.

“He needs to get from here out to New York for his promo schedule comfortably.”

You’re too pissed to look into the details, but you bow at Jimin before he pulls you into a hug. 

"Be good," Jimin whispers firmly, squeezing your shoulder. 

Your eyes continue to shoot daggers at Namjoon as Jimin embraces you. 

Namjoon rolls his eyes as you release Jimin.

Jimin moves to shake Namjoon’s hand before sliding into one of the black cars outside. 

Both you and Namjoon slide into the backseat of the remaining car in silence before it takes off.

***

After a few moments in the car, you turn your body away from Namjoon to look out of the window. 

Somehow, even his presence was pressing your fucking nerves.

Namjoon’s sigh fills the dead air in the car, and you look at him in annoyance from the corner of your eye. 

You can see him do the same from your peripheral.

Shortly after, you cross one of your legs over the other and your skirt hikes up a little. 

Namjoon takes a risk to look at you from his peripheral again before he clears his throat. 

He huffs again before he leans his elbow near the edge of the window, resting his head in his hand.

***

As you arrive at the jet, you tuck the portfolio under your arm and approach the aircraft -- pulling your luggage behind you. 

Just as you near the stairs to board the jet, a man dressed in all black raises his hand for you to halt.

“NDA?” He asks, his palm out.

“Oh! Yes, of course!” You exclaim. 

You were so fucking distracted by Namjoon that you forgot to sign the paperwork within the portfolio. 

Paperwork that meant what happens on that plane stays on that plane.

You quickly put ink to paper, handing it to the guard.

Before the paper reaches his hand, you pull it back quickly to commit the name of the guest to memory, and a shock sweeps through your system.

The name reads in bold black letters: [SOLOIST: JEON JUNGKOOK OF BANGTAN SONYEONDAN].

The Golden Maknae.

The Nation’s Vocalist.

International Playboy.

Jeon Fucking Jungkook.

This was your client today.

You try to collect your composure from the floor as you board the plane.

***

As you stand near the door, you smooth out your skirt to get ready to greet Jungkook, but Namjoon enters instead.

“Welcome aboard, Captain Kim,” Your voice is tinged with sarcasm as you bow at him with a pointed smile on your lips. 

The forced smile quickly fades as Namjoon tips his hat to you -- making his way toward the cockpit.

The scent of his pine-tinged perfume floats by your nose, and you exhale. 

Despite all the time that’s passed since your relationship, he was still wearing the scent you loved on him. 

You quickly shake your head to rid yourself of the thought as you hear footsteps crunch on the ladder to the plane.

***

In a matter of seconds, the world’s biggest superstar was standing right before your eyes.

Normally, celebrities gave off a cold, stoic energy -- but Jungkook radiated a significant warmth.

“Hi, I’m Jeon Jungkook,” He smiles, his eyes sparkling with wonder as your gaze finally meets his.

Jungkook’s dressed in a fuzzy cotton candy pink sweater, and his white jeans hug his built thighs.

You couldn’t help but drink him in.

The first thing you’re truly able to take in is his tattooed right hand reaching for your own.

These symbols of love were really etched in his hand forever:

A R M Y

0613

The Woozy Emoji.

A Crown.

You couldn't help but gasp at seeing it in person.

Your brain almost goes haywire: he's fuzzy soft in appearance and demeanor, but his tattoos and grip on your own hand signaled otherwise.

“You can let go of my hand now,” His boyish charm had disintegrated your steely exterior from just seconds ago, and your eyes were still hanging onto his.

"Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed. I-I'm so sorry," You bow at him.

Jungkook pats his other hand over yours as an assurance that it’s fine before grinning at you.

A man outside of the jet seals it shut, and the plane starts to glide over the tarmac shortly after.

***

You quickly walk to the galley in the back of the jet to prepare beverages, but you fan yourself quickly to regain your composure. 

You place a glass of champagne, a cup of water and a container of banana milk on the tray, making your way back over to Jungkook.

"Everything okay so far, Mr. Jeon?" You ask, looking down at him.

Jungkook looks up at you from a sketch on his tablet, and his lap is already covered with a blanket. 

You point at it, instructing him to remove it.

"Seatbelt? Right." He says softly to himself, before pulling the cover off. 

Your eyes widen at the huge mound just below his belt. He fastens his seatbelt and a thought races through your mind: That huge thing surely couldn't be his dick and this definitely isn't something you've discussed with your friends ad-nauseum -- you assure yourself.

As you lower the tray of drinks, your hand trembles and out of nervousness and you mistakenly spill the glass of water directly onto his lap.

Jungkook gasps, and you quickly whip the cloth napkin from the tray to try and dab the moisture from his lap.

"Ah, I'm so sorry, I-," As you dab his lap, you can visibly see his cock twitch, and you look up at him. 

"It's alright, stuff like this happens all the time," Jungkook blushes, his eyes tinged with embarrassment. 

"People get so nervous around me for some reason," He continues, his tone a bit melancholic. 

Jungkook gently takes the napkin from your hand to finish the job himself.

"Aren't you supposed to be like, the best flight attendant in the world or something?" He clicks his tongue.

“Well, I-,” Your mouth moves to form a sentence, but he cuts you off. 

"Well, you're terrible." Your face crumples into a frown.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Jeon, I-," Jungkook laughs a second after, handing you the cloth.

Jungkook’s hand accidentally brushes yours for a second as you take the cloth from him, and you’re shocked at how soft his skin is.

"I’m just kidding. And call me Jungkook," Jungkook smiles up at you with his sparkling saucer eyes before focusing his attention back on his tablet.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips.

***

“Here you go, Mr. Jeon. I-I mean, Jungkook,” Jungkook laughs softly to himself before whipping the cloth napkin into the collar of his shirt. 

You nod at him, and he looks down at his plate before he looks back up to you. 

His eyes glimmer with a gated curiosity, and it looks as if he wants to ask you something.

“Yes? Anything else?” You smile at him, and he hesitates before he shakes his head in denial. 

You nod at him again before you head to the galley to grab your own meal. 

After retrieving your tray you sit down a few rows behind him and uncap your meal.

Jungkook turns around to look at you, and the two of you make eye contact just as you bring a fork with food on it to your mouth.

“Hey! Come and eat with me!” Jungkook calls out to you before resting his chin on the back of his hand.

“Excuse me? Me?” Your eyes search the room for a second before you point at yourself in shock.

“Is there someone else here?” Jungkook chuckles out his response.

“No, but I-,” Jungkook places a finger over his lips before he motions with his hand again for you to come over. 

You chuckle and gather your things to sit directly across from him.

The two of you chew in silence for a moment, before Jungkook subtly peers at you with his wide eyes through his lashes. You can tell it took all of his courage to ask you over, and you smile to yourself.

“So, how’s the weather?” He asks, and the two of you chuckle.

“Okay, real question. How long have you been at this? Since you’re the best after all?” Jungkook takes a sip of his champagne as he observes you.

“About three years. It’s been a wild ride,” You chuckle to yourself, but there’s something sad in your eyes when you recall your time in the air.

“There’s a certain loneliness, isn’t there?” Jungkook asks, placing his glass down. 

You look up at him as you brush your arm with your hand -- and you’re sure he understands exactly how you feel in that moment. 

You give him a silent nod before placing food in your mouth.

"So, why are you traveling to the US?" You hold your hand over your mouth as you chew, watching his interest in you stir in his eyes.

“It’s my first solo promo without the group. So...I’m definitely nervous not having them here. It’s nice to have someone to talk to,” He smiles at you, cheeks full after he takes a bite of his steak.

You nod cooly, before the two of you hang onto each other’s eyes. You look around, quickly trying to break the impending sexual tension stirring between the two of you.

“Oh my god, is that a Switch?” Your eyes catch the gaming system beside him and you chuckle.

“You don’t strike me as someone who would play...,” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion as his eyes study you.

“Just wait until I kick your ass in a Pokemon battle. You won’t be so smug then.” You giggle before you take a sip of water from your glass as you look at him. “I’ve had so many fourteen hour flights to prepare for a moment exactly like this.”

You can visibly see the emotion in his eyes shift to something more menacing at the hint of competition.

“That’s it. I’m curious -- let’s go. Bring your Switch over,” Jungkook slams his fork down and sits back, spreading his legs. He runs his tongue over the inside of his cheek and motions to you with a come-hither hand movement.

You throw your head back in laughter as you stand up to search through your bag in the overhead compartment. You pull out your Switch and sit in the seat next to him, crossing your legs in his direction.

As you start your Switch, the music from the game chimes out. 

Jungkook looks down at you as you focus, and his eyes roam over your form. His gaze lingers at how close your leg happens to be to his. He swiftly clears his throat, bringing his focus back to his screen.

“Who was your starter for Shield?” You ask, not looking up from your own screen.

“Grookey this time. It’s really cute,” Jungkook replies, and you watch as he flips through switching out his lineup at the Pokemon center.

“Oh my god, that’s so fucking lame. A fire starter is always the way to go,” The tip of your shoe accidentally meets his shin, and he looks down.

“Sorry,” You think nothing of it, adjusting yourself in the chair. 

Jungkook swallows before he sits up straighter, feeling his pants start to tighten around his crotch.

After a few moments of heated battle, Jungkook throws his head back in defeat and groans out.

“No one’s ever beat me before.” Jungkook looks down at you as you shrug in satisfaction.

“Told you not to underestimate me, sucker,” You stand up to collect the items from your meals, placing them on the tray one-by-one. He lets out a laugh, the edges of his eyes crinkling.

After a moment, Jungkook nervously chews his bottom lip as he watches you -- his words seemingly still held back by his lips. You can’t help it as smile forms on your lips as you catch him observing you. 

You tuck a stray hair behind your ear before you smile at him once more.

Shortly after you place the items in the washer, you peek your head from the galley as you lower the lights in the cabin.

***

As you stand in the galley on your phone, Jungkook exits the bathroom. 

You place your phone down as you watch him near you.

Jungkook slowly approaches you, and you feel your heart rate pick up in pace. His body almost touches yours, and you catch a whiff of his shampoo laced with a wave of the softener he endorses. 

As you subtly take his scent in, he attempts to reach behind you.

“Sorry. The carrot cake. Behind you,” You shrink in embarrassment as you move over and he grabs the small plate. 

“Next time, just tell me Jungkook. It’s my job to get you these things,” Your response is firm, and your eyes focus on him. He nods.

Jungkook leans back against the wall before he takes a scoop of the frosting from the cake with his woozy emoji finger. He inserts it into his mouth before his eyes widen at the taste.

Somehow, you could tell he was lingering around you, but at this point you weren’t sure why. 

I mean you had an idea, but that surely couldn’t be the reason he was lingering around you. 

You definitely couldn’t trust your instincts in this situation. 

Not unless he made the first move.

“Delicious,” He smiles as he pulls his finger from his mouth, and grabs a napkin near you. 

The plate clinks against the counter as he places it down. 

Jungkook stands in silence near you for a moment as you watch him with his eyes trained on the counter.

“I-I hope I’m not reading this wrong... but,” His voice is a few registers lower than normal, and it takes you by surprise. Jungkook looks up at you, his once innocent eyes blown with lust.

You observe him as he comes to the front of you, placing a hand on your jaw. His nose traces your own, and your lips hover over each other for a few moments as he studies your lips. 

You shake your head as you look up at him, and your chest starts to heave in anticipation just before he presses his warm lips to yours. You hold onto his wrist and slide your hand over his as he holds your jaw.

The only sound to be heard in the cabin are the heated breaths and soft moans between the two of you as your lips glide in and out and over each other.

Suddenly, the plane starts to rumble -- jolting the both of you from the depths of the kiss.

You lick your now-moist lips, savoring the essence of the frosting he consumed moments ago.

“Turbulence. I have to make an announcement,” Your eyes move to focus on his lips, and he nods. 

Your hand searches behind you to grab the receiver from a phone on the wall.

The plane rattles again, but Jungkook continues to look at you -- his hands placed on either side of you on the counter as you hold down the button on the receiver to speak.

“Passengers, please take your seats. There’s significant turbulence and wind resistance-,”

Jungkook’s lips move to tug at your ear before his lips drift down to your neck. 

The suction of his lips on your skin makes you let out the beginnings of a moan mid-sentence.

***

“Alright passengers, please take your seats. There’s significant turbulence and wind resistance-,” 

Namjoon looks around from the cockpit as the message over the speaker comes to a sudden halt. He reaches over to the receiver near him to dial the cabin.

“Everything alright back there?” He inquires, furrowing his brows.

***

“Go to your seat,” You mouth to Jungkook, and he nods. His eyes crinkle at the edges as he silently laughs to himself before leaving.

“Totally. Everything’s totally fine. Mhm, mhm, mhm.” You assure Namjoon before hanging up the phone.

The soft ding of the seatbelt sign rings through the cabin.

The plane continues to jolt and bump as the two of you stare each other down from your seats. 

A lustful elixir starts to circulate through the air along with the hum of white noise, and you bite your lip as you continue to watch Jungkook.

The twinge between your legs begins to grow, causing you to dig your nails into the soft leather of the armrest.

The equilibrium of the plane finally seems to settle, and you quickly dash over to mount Jungkook’s lap.

Your lips latch onto his, and the two of you can barely catch your breath as you kiss each other. His hands softly roam your curves, and you pull from his lips. His innocent facade fades away as he firmly grips your hips as he watches you.

The two of you wait -- bated breaths -- as you unbuckle Jungkook’s seatbelt, quickly followed by his pants. He tosses his head back, and your lips suck at the exposed flesh on his neck -- small purple patches forming where your lips once were.

One of his hands makes its way to the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. 

You sigh into it as your hands roam over his hard collarbones and slip down to the soft texture of the sweater. 

Your hands quickly roam under his sweater to explore the hard dips of the body underneath, and his hands slide down to firmly grip your ass.

A few moans leave your mouth as he grinds up below you. 

Jungkook’s hand reaches up into your hair and pulls out your bun, and he tosses the tie onto the floor. Your hair cascades over him, and he threads a hand into your hair as he pulls you into a deep kiss.

“Are you sure you want this?” Jungkook is breathless as he pulls away to look at you.

Of course you wanted this. You were actually living every woman on the globe’s fantasy right now.

You nod frantically and give him a grin as he motions to his pocket. You pull a condom from it, and you frantically pull his pants further down his legs.

After you slip on the condom, he moves your underwear to the side and inserts himself inside of you. You squeeze his shoulder as his rock hard girth stretches you -- his warm, stuttered breaths blowing into your ear.

Jungkook’s hands rake down your thighs as he slips further inside you, sending ripples of pleasure to your already throbbing core. Your moans become needy in his ear as he starts to pound a rhythm into you.

The intensity of your moans grow louder -- something you’re normally worried about -- but they’re muffled by the hum of white noise in the plane. 

You look at Jungkook, eyes half-lidded in a drunken stupor as he bucks into you, leaning in for a kiss every few moments. 

“You like that?” Jungkook looks up at you, rocking your hips over his cock as his moans turn into whines after a few seconds. 

You moan in response as you feel him throbbing inside you, and you both groan as you cum at the same time. 

Your head collapses onto his shoulder, and he caresses the top of your head.

The crackle of the overhead speaker startles you both.

“This is your pilot. We should be landing in about ten minutes. Weather in New York is clear, sunny -- about seventy degrees. Thank you so much for flying today, and get where you’re going safely,” Namjoon’s voice rings over the speaker.

You look at Jungkook before you kiss him on the lips once more, savoring the last of the moment. 

You press your forehead to his before you both sigh. 

After a few moments, you both get up to adjust yourselves and sit back down -- looking across at each other -- for the duration of the flight.

***

The door of the jet opens up, and a flood of wind and light rush through at you and Jungkook.

“Well, I guess this is me,” Jungkook squints at the sun, before he looks back at you. He throws the strap of his backpack over his shoulder before he nods at you.

Before he exits, Jungkook gives you a wink as he points to your hair tie on his wrist.

You giggle, your hand covering your mouth as you bow at him and wave.

***

“Can I talk to you?” 

Namjoon’s form is dark from the depths of the cockpit, and you turn your head in his direction. 

You approach him and lean your back against the wall, crossing your arms. He quickly shuts the door to the cockpit, and you furrow your brows at him.

“What is it Namjoon?” You sigh in annoyance, your nails digging into the crooks of your folded arms.

“Looking at you now-, I-I think I just regret everything at this point. Why didn’t we work out?”

You scoff, and look up at Namjoon as he nears closer to you. You tug at his uniform, and whip his hat from his head, throwing it to the floor. He looks to the hat on the floor before his eyes meet yours.

“This…this is why,” You press your finger into the wings badge on his chest, your finger trembling with anger and tears starting to well in your eyes. 

“The only reason I’m here because I tried to follow you all over the fucking world, Namjoon.” You continue, your voice strained with regret. “But as you know, even that didn’t work out.”

“But now we’re both at the top now because of it,” Namjoon says, his voice pleading. 

“At least one of us got what we wanted.” You scoff, breaking eye contact with him.

Namjoon sighs, looking down at the ground before meeting your eyes.

“I’m ready to put you first now,” Namjoon’s voice is full of regret as he places his hands on the wall on either side of you. "I’ve been all over the world...and all I could think about was you."

“I don’t believe you Joon,” You look up at him as he tries to cup your face. You grab his hand and toss it away from you, your expression serious. 

For a moment, his eyes press into yours, and for a second you do feel something different from him.

“I think you do,” He catches the glimmer of hope in your eyes, and smoothes his hand up your arm. He moves forward, observing your face once more. 

The intensity and seriousness of gaze always found you defenseless, but something about his expression really was different this time.

Namjoon moves forward further to press his frame into yours, threading his leg between your thighs. 

After a moment of studying your features, he crashes his lips into yours. You press his broad chest with your hands to resist him, but you end up gripping the lapels of his jacket instead.

The kiss is rough, resistant between your lips -- and as he gets deeper into your mouth -- a moan escapes your lips. 

You ball your hand into a fist at yourself for letting it out as your neck falls back toward the wall, and it signals Namjoon to move his lips to a tender spot on the exposed skin.

The heat from his mouth hovers over your neck, before he fully latches onto the skin there. 

"I hate you so much," You gasp out before your breath halts, and your hand instinctively curls into his hair.

“Is that still the spot?” His dimples pop into his cheeks, and you bite your lips to try to control your moans. 

You were determined to make him beg for your affection and forgiveness, but you whine at the sensation. 

“Ah, so it is,” He chuckles into the crook between your neck and shoulder. Namjoon was hitting a spot only he knew, and it was driving you insane. He was truly the only person in the world that could render you helpless underneath him, and not the other way around.

“No…,” You still try to resist Namjoon, but his lips meet yours again -- his thigh putting pressure on your throbbing clit. His thick auburn lips are tinged with desire and you nip them every so often, watching the blood rush to them and grow into a cherry hue.

Namjoon presses his nose to yours, ripping your shirt open. You exhale in surprise as the buttons rattle to the floor, and the both of you breathe in anticipation into each other’s mouths.

“You’ll have to pay for that,” You utter as Namjoon presses his forehead to yours, his eyes still on you. His hands roam your body until he reaches your legs, ripping the stockings from your form. 

"Those too," Adrenaline courses through your veins as he kisses down your body to your thighs. He whips your underwear down to your ankles and starts to press kisses into the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

The grit of his tongue licks just between the crevice where your thigh meets your core, and you moan in anticipation. You feel a trickle of wetness leave your body, and he smiles into your skin as he takes in your scent. He breathes into your core, but quickly trails his kisses back up your body. 

Namjoon’s sizable hands grab the cheeks of your ass as his lips work into yours once more -- your fingers gripping the roots of his hair. His fingers slink inside of your slick walls, and a desperate moan leaves your lips. Your moans grow in intensity as he hits your g-spot, fingers scissoring inside of you. 

Soon after, you spill all over his fingers -- your legs trembling. Your arms wrap around his neck to steady yourself, and he lifts you up to carry you to the pilot’s chair.

You move in to kiss his succulent lips and he moves to your ear.

“Did you fuck him? Was he this good?” Namjoon whispers as he savors your juices from his fingers. He loosens your bra and takes your breasts into his mouth one-by-one as he moans over them. 

Your back arches as he works, and you attempt to control his intensity with your hands in his hair but your core starts to pulse with an intense desire.

Namjoon senses it and lifts your hips up as he slides his hard cock over your slick entrance. You let out the biggest whine as his significant length and girth slip effortlessly inside you. 

You couldn't help but be dripping wet at how much he still wanted you. At how good everything still felt.

“Fuck, Namjoon-” Your eyes roll into the back of your skull, and your fingers dig into the fabric of the jacket on his shoulders.

"Namjoon I'm so fucking wet-," Every part of you bounces as he guides you over the length of his cock, and as you reach your peak, he pulls himself from you. 

A squelch and a quick pop fills the air as he pulls out from how tight and wet you had become around him.

“Tell me how much you want it baby,” Namjoon demands and you whine at him, kissing his lips.

You were supposed to be resisting him, but you wanted nothing more than to be filled to the hilt with his cock.

“Fuck. Baby, please,” You peck at his lips with your own. 

"God, you're so fucking hot, baby," He groans out as places his cock back inside of you, and lets you ride out the pleasure for only a few more moments. He pulls from you again with the same demand.

“Joonie, fuck,” You pull at his ear with your teeth, starting to suck and chew on his earlobe. Namjoon moans as that was only a spot you knew, and you disarm him enough to slip his cock back inside of you.

“Fuck Joonie, f-fuck,” Your moans are strained as you ride him out, your core starting to pulse around him. 

“Jesus fucking christ, ah-,” Namjoon's cum spills inside of you, his warm load filling up your walls.

Your chests heave up and down as the two of you rest your glistening foreheads together.

After a few moments, the two of you wrap your lips into a kiss -- and a tear slips down your cheek.

Namjoon looks at you, his expression filling with worry.

“I-I’m,” Your words drop as Namjoon thumbs the tear from your cheek. He pulls your face back from his to get a better look at you.

You keep your gaze focused below you, and away from his as you scramble through words in your mind.

“I’m still in love with you Namjoon,” You confess in a gasp, looking up at him. Another tear shoots down from one of your eyes, and he thumbs it away again.

“Me too. And I don’t ever want to see you like this again,” Namjoon looks at you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“I’m still in love with you, too…,” He repeats, and you press one final kiss to his lips.

You give him a warm smile again for the first time in years, as you settle your head on his shoulder.

Namjoon’s dimples pop into his cheeks as he returns a smile to you, and the two of you chuckle in relief.

[hystericalweenie]

Just Another Day at the Office Series - New Experiences

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part One: Dinner is Served

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n had found herself stuck in a scenario she’d never thought she’d ever have to face: she’d been catching feelings for a coworker. While she attempted to adapt to her new job and work load, she also had to get used to these new feelings and figure out what the fuck to do with them. George made her want to take risks, she didn’t care about the potentiality of a broken heart with him, because falling in love with him made it seem worth it. Is George falling for Y/n too? Will he be able to reciprocate her feelings?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! I wrote this drunk and honestly I’m not mad at how this turned out. 

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s some MUTHA! FUCKIN! SMUT! UP! IN! HERE!!!! oral receiving, oral performing, some mother freakin explicit content up in here

I held my glass of red wine up to my lips, as we both sat down after finally finishing cooking together. 

“You did very well, I’m pretty shocked, actually,” he complimented, scooping the chicken into his mouth.

“Well, you did do most of it,” I chided. “But, thank you.”

“How was work today?” he asked between bites.

I waited before swallowing.

“It was good, that pitch for Connie went incredibly well,” I recalled, taking another sip out of my wine glass.

His eyebrows raised at the reference to the pitch.

“I remember you texting me about that earlier, that’s fantastic, Y/n,” his British accent was accentuated as he said “fantastic”, making me grin. 

“Thank you,” I blushed, taking a moment to let his compliment marinate before I continued to eat. 

“You’re succeeding immensely so far at Essence,” he praised, using his knife to cut through the tender chicken in preparation for another bite.

“Really?” I asked in disbelief. 

He nodded, his eyebrows furrowing and his head tilting, as if to say “are you kidding?”

“I had no fucking idea what to do for the first, like, three months there. Barely anyone even noticed me; I would sit at the far end of the table during meetings without saying a word,” he recalled. “And look at you; your second week in, and you’ve already impressed the head of your department.”

“You couldn’t be that bad,” I retorted, not entirely believing him.

“Oh, I was,” he countered, laughing. “I was a bloody idiot, but no one trained me! How the hell was I supposed to know anything?”

“They’re horrible at training,” I agreed.

We both ate in silence until we finished our meals.

“What was the first meal you taught Dean how to make?” I queried, finishing off the rest of my red wine.

“Banana bread,” he smiled, softly laughing as he recalled the memory. “I actually have a scar on my hand from that day.”

He lifted his hand from across the table, showing me. I touched the small pink line gently, noticing that the bruises on his knuckles looked more violet that evening than the night before, matching his eye.

“How are your knuckles feeling?” I asked, running my finger ever so lightly along them.

He smiled, his blue eyes softening at me.

“They’re fine, love, they barely hurt,” he reassured.

There it was again; love. Butterflies erupted in my stomach at the word, the way it rolled off his tongue with his accent and the way he made it sound so intimate, somehow.

My finger lingered on his hand, my eyes looking up to examine his black eye. As I observed, I wondered if it’d start to turn a greenish color the next day, or if it’d take a little longer than I thought to heal. His eyes bore into mine as I pondered the healing of his wounds, my concern most likely being obvious on my facial expressions. He removed his hand from underneath mind before resting it on top instead, his eyes still watching me. I looked down in confusion at the action, my heart beating faster and faster. I gulped, my eyes slowly moving up towards his. My heart was racing, I could practically hear the quick thumps, as I anticipated what was going to happen with great fear. 

“Do you want me to help with the dishes?” I blurted, interrupting the tension. 

What the fuck did I just do?!

He gulped, before nodding his head.

“Yeah, right, I forgot about those,” he let out a small chuckle before removing his hand from mine and standing up from the table.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why did I do that? Why did I have to make things so awkward?

I stood up with him, grabbing my dishes with me. He opened the dishwasher after rinsing his dishes off under the faucet as I copied his actions. He grabbed some cloths and a plastic bottle of dish soap, handing me a cloth.

“You can dry them, and I can wash?” he offered.

I nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

He grabbed one of the big pans we used for the chicken, rinsing it under the steaming water from the faucet before drenching it in dish soap.

“Do you ever miss England?” I spoke up, trying to make up for the awkward interruption I’d caused earlier.

“Mmm,” he hummed, contemplating his answer. 

He scrubbed the pan with the wash cloth, the noise making up for the time he was spending coming up with a response to my question.

“I miss my family,” he admitted. “And I miss some of my friends growin’ up. But, I’m so thankful for coming to New York, meeting all of the people I’ve met and the job I’ve been blessed with; I’m very happy here.”

He handed me the pan, gesturing for me to dry it. He grabbed the wooden cutting board that we’d used to cut the chicken, and repeated the same process.

“What about you? Where’d you live before New York?” he interrogated, his eyes focusing on the chore in front of him.

After drying the pan, I set it aside on the counter in preparation for the wooden cutting board.

“I lived in Oregon, a small city called Ashland,” I began, recalling all of the memories I had, filled with my mother’s laughter and my father’s toothy smiles. “We used to have this small pond behind our house, and my father and I would go feed the ducks everyday after school. God, we used to love hiking, too. After living in New York for five years, I’ve forgotten how spectacular the suburbs are.”

“That sounds much more interesting than England,” he confessed, handing me the wooden chopping board. “Although, it’s pretty cool having an Australian dad and an English mum.”

I raised my eyebrows, clearly impressed.

“How do you manage to beat me at everything?” I chuckled in disbelief. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, cleaning the pot we’d used to make the spaghetti.

“You beat me in your quick succession at work,” he admitted, his eyes glancing at me. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you get a raise within the next five months.”

I rolled my eyes, wiping the wooden board with the cloth.

“I think you’re the first guy to think so highly of my work ethics,” I professed. 

He put the pot down, turning to me. 

“Really?” he inquired in disbelief.

I nodded. “The last relationship I was in, the guy told me he wanted me to be a receptionist. A receptionist, can you believe that?! And, it was like he was deciding for me, even though he knew throughout college that I wanted to be a writer,” I ranted, my hands going up in the air as I angrily relived the memories. 

“Why the hell did you settle for that, Y/n?” he asked seriously, handing me the pot to dry. 

I pinched the bridge of my nose before taking the pot.

“I don’t know,” I frustratingly answered, drying the pot in silence.

He piled the rest into the dishwasher, putting the dried dishes away in his cabinets. He leant his back against the counter, his arms crossing, before he spoke up.

“Your last relationship was in college?”

I gulped. Did I let that detail slip?

“Yeah,” I began, scratching the back of my neck. “I haven’t really had the time for a relationship since I started working full-time.”

I hoped he wouldn’t be able to tell that I was lying. I prayed that my inevitable blushed cheeks wouldn’t turn scarlet. I begged that he wouldn’t think I was weird for not having been in a relationship for so long.

“How long has it been, then?”

I chewed my lip. Fuck. I felt like Bree had asked me the same question just yesterday, except in a different context, of course. Though, my answer remained the same.

“Two years,” I cringed at my own answer, before gesturing my hand out to him. “How about you?”

“Almost a year,” he admitted with a shrug. “Only lasted a few months, things just didn't work out.”

I laughed dryly. “Mine was a few years, he, uh, cheated on me.”

His eyes widened in shock. “No way.”

I nodded, my lips pursing. He shook his head, pushing himself off of the counter.

“How?”

“Hmm,” I hummed, bringing my knuckles to my chin sarcastically. “I think he got with another woman behind my back while we’d been in a three year relationship, yeah, I think that’s how you cheat on someone, right?”

He rolled his eyes at me, crossing his arms again as he stood in front of me.

“There’s no way the other woman could have been more beautiful than you or more successful than you, as you are now,” he admitted with a shrug. “There’s absolutely no way; this girl had to be a troll or something, and so did your boyfriend, for fuck’s sake!”

He had to be praising me the same way Bree does, right? Friends trash on each other’s exes.

“He definitely wasn’t the most attractive guy,” I recollected. “But, I was just at the phase in college where I wanted to experiment without sleeping around, which resulted in falling in love, blah, blah, blah, you know the rest.”

He smiled at my childish way of talking, seeing the immature, playful side of me.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice softer than before. He edged closer to me, his eyes focusing on mine. I panicked; what was he doing?

“Can I try something?” his voice was as soft as a whisper.

Fuck it. I was ready. I needed to be ready this time. 

I nodded slowly, preparing myself for the unexpected. He stepped closer to me, his eyes still staring into mine. As they dragged toward my lips, I watched as he reached a hand out, grasping my cheek as his thumb grazed my cheekbone. I watched his gaze on my face intently in awe, as he dragged the moment, wanting to soak every bit in. He moved his face toward mine and within seconds, I closed my eyes subconsciously, and his lips were pressed ever so lightly against my own. They barely moved, as they stilled for a moment, before he pulled away.

I couldn’t tell if I was breathing. I couldn’t tell if what had just happened was even real. Whether this was a dream or not, all I knew was that I wanted him, I needed him.

My hand snaked up to the nape of his neck, before pulling himself back towards my lips. I didn’t care anymore, I didn’t care what would happen or what this meant. Nothing mattered anymore, except him. He crashed his lips against my own, his arms moving down to my waist. This time, his lips moved passionately against my own, as we created our own rhythm. Our lips moving against each other’s, I brought my other arm to meet the other around his neck, pulling him flush against me. 

“Jump up,” he mumbled against my lips, his voice husky with hunger.

I did as he asked, jumping and wrapping my legs around his waist, as he supported my thighs with his hands. He walked me up the stairs slowly, making sure he wouldn’t drop me as he kept his lips attached to me. Once we’d made it upstairs, he removed one of his hands, grasping for the doorknob before actually finding it and opening the door. Closing it with his foot, he set me on the bed, as I kicked my shoes off behind his back. 

His lips hungrily moved against my own, his tongue swiping against my bottom lip before I parted them, allowing his entrance. Our tongues danced together, as I heard him peel his own shoes off with his feet, as he moved his hands under my thighs and picked me up from the bed again, he placed me toward the top. He let go of my thighs, peeling his lips away from my own as he climbed up on the bed, settling himself in between my legs, as his forearms supported him on either side of my head before diving back into my lips. 

My legs wrapped around his back, pulling his hips down against mine in search of my desired friction. He rolled himself against my heat, making me moan, as I felt him smirk into the kiss at my reaction. He rolled himself again, this time more slowly and deeply against my heat. His lips dragged to the corner of my mouth, to my jaw, and finally, to my neck. He used his lips to gently kiss his desired spot before sucking on it, swiping his tongue against the skin simultaneously. I let out a breathy sigh, my fingers moving to his hair to grip on the strands. After repeating the same process on multiple spots on my neck, he moved to my collarbones, peppering them with feverish kisses before his fingers found themselves at the hem on my shirt.

“Is this alright to take off?” he asked, his breathing heavy.

“Please,” I begged, vigorously nodding as my arms raised for him to take it off. 

He obliged, pulling the fabric off quickly before his eyes fell to my chest. His pupils enlarged as he stared in awe at the lacy black bra I’d been so thankful I’d worn that night. His lips found their way to the valley of my breasts, sucking random spots in hopes to cover every inch of skin on my chest. He pulled himself away again, looking into my eyes as his fingers moved to the clasp in the back, as if looking for permission. I nodded, my eyes practically watering at how much I needed him. He slowly unclasped the bra, his eyes not leaving mine, before removing the bra from my skin and tossing it aside, somewhere with my top. 

His eyes slowly made their way down to my exposed breasts, his jaw falling slack at the sight. I watched as he licked his lips before attaching them to one of my nipples, his other hand moving to massage the other. I whimpered, his teeth gently grazing my nipple as the pad of his thumb continuously ran over the other. He moved his mouth to my other breast, opposite hand moving to the one he’d just had in his mouth. My fingers tangled themselves in the soft locks of his hair, as the pleasure from my nipples alone made me feel like I could orgasm right then and there. 

His lips pulled off of my nipple with a pop sound, sloppily littering my stomach with kisses. My fingers moved toward the hem of his shirt, wanting him to reveal his own torso. He sat up on his knees, peeling the fabric off of him quickly, but giving me enough time to stare at his abs, looking chiseled enough for him to be a statue. He smirked, watching as I examined him, before moving himself toward the end of the bed. He placed his lips back onto my skin, this time, his lips pressing soft kisses right above the button of my jeans.

I moved my fingers to the button, unbuttoning them, giving him my permission to continue. He looked up at me, his dark, lustful eyes meeting mine, as he slowly unzipped my jeans, and gently tugged them down my hips. I lifted my hips up, making it easier for him to peel them off of my legs. I was left in my panties, as his lips hovered over my heat. He slowly looped his fingers around the fabric, looking up at me for permission. Again, I nodded, licking my lips, my hips practically bucking at this point. He slowly moved my panties down my legs, his eyes widening at the sight of my pussy. His hands moved to the insides of my thighs, slowly moving them apart, giving him better access. 

I had to pinch myself on the arm just to clarify that this was real.

His lips moved to press a gentle kiss on my clitoral hood. Then, he moved to press his lips against each one of my outer lips, causing me to moan in anticipation. And slowly, he flattened his tongue against my heat, licking me up in one swipe. My thighs were already a quivering mess, my hips bucking up at the sudden pleasure. He repeated the action, his eyes moving to look up at me. My jaw fell slack as he remained eye contact, slowly navigating his tongue through my folds. My head fell back as his tongue settled on my clit, slowly lapping at the sensitive bud.

I moved one of my hands back to his hair, grabbing a handful of his blond locks as my legs already began to shake. I felt him slowly bring his finger to my entrance, curling it into me. I let out a loud whimper at the sensations, bringing his finger to a slow pumping rhythm. 

“Faster, George,” I begged, my chest heaving up and down. “Please.”

He moaned against me, the vibrations stimulating me even more as his tongue lapped quicker at my clit, his finger beginning to pump faster. My hips bucked against his movements, coming close to my release. I looked down, meeting his  blue eyes looking up at me in awe, bringing me to my climax. I let out a scream, my breathing hitching as he continued his movements, riding me through my high. As my hips slowed, he removed his lips from me, before slowly removing his finger as well. He surprised me, moving his lips to my entrance, lapping up my leaking juices with his tongue. 

He sighed against me after finishing, his hot breath against my pussy. He stood up, smirking at me as he wiped his mouth with his wrist. I watched in awe, still breathing heavily as I still wasn't recovered from my climax. He moved back up to the bed, his lips attaching to mine, allowing me to taste myself. Our tongues began to battle each other's once again, returning to our own perfect rhythm, before I rolled myself on top of him. With one knee on each side of him, I hungrily kissed him, feeling his hard-on through his jeans against my flesh. 

My fingers moved to quickly undo his button and zipper, as he opened his legs for me to sit in between them. He moved his hips up, giving me access to pull his own pants down. As I peeled the fabric off of his legs, I could see the tent in his boxers, exciting me. I returned my lips to his, bringing my hand down to palm him through the fabric. He groaned against my lips, chewing on my bottom lip, as I grasped his shaft through his underwear. Teasing him slowly, I finally looped my fingers around the band, pulling them down, as his dick slapped against his stomach. My eyes widened at the size of him, wondering if I’d even be able to fit him in my mouth.

My hand moved back to his shaft, moving up and down as I squeezed him. My thighs rubbed together at the sight in front of me, his large swollen dick in my hands as his eyes stared at me, half-lidded. I moved my hand down to pleasure myself, before slowly reaching my mouth down to take him. I pressed my lips firmly to his tip, before parting them and wrapping them around the flesh. I swirled my tongue around him, feeling himself harden even more in my hand. I had to hold his cock down, as I continued to tease him with my tongue. And slowly, opening my throat, I bobbed my head down. I took as much of him as I could, feeling him enter my throat. 

I forced back a gag, as I slowly pulled away from him, before bobbing my head back down again. I repeated this, pleasuring myself with my opposite hand as well. I felt his hand snake to my neck, grasping a handful of my hair as I quickened my pace. 

“God, Y/n,” he breathed, causing me to quicken my own pace on my heat. 

I moaned against him, sending vibrations through him, as I felt him twitch in my mouth. I gagged, taking him all in, as I felt him finally spurt down my throat. Tears ran down my cheeks as I bobbed my head, finishing him off as he continuously moaned my name, sounding like music to my ears. I swallowed his cum, as he pulled out of my mouth with a pop. Excess spit and cum ran down my lips as I quickly wiped my mouth, before wiping the tears that had escaped my eyes. He looked at me in awe as my eyes finally met him. His hands went to grip my cheeks, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones. 

“Y/n, you’re fucking perfect,” he breathed, half-lidded eyes and a weak smile of euphoria. 

I laughed softly, moving up to press a soft kiss against his lips. Our lips moved together slowly at a soft rhythm, the tips of our tongues dancing together. My fingers knitted through his hair, weaving through the disheveled locks. He pulled away, pressing a firm kiss onto my lips before looking up at me as I rested on top of him. My eyelids were heavy, exhausted from the action I’d just performed. My cheek went to rest against his bare chest, our skin flush against each other. His heartbeat calmed me, lulling me to sleep as my eyelids closed and exhaustion took over my body. 

Boy, would I have a story for Bree.

[mothmansfriend]

when i’m happy oh god i’m happy

TW: alcohol abuse, non-graphic sexual content, unhealthy coping mechanisms, self harm (in many forms), drug use, couchsurfing, mentions of delusions and paranoia, otherwise reckless behaviour

Note: this takes place in @illogicallyinclined’s hockey au and is a Prequel this is supposed to represent what Remus’s manic episodes look like everyone is different, but im using a mix of my own experiences with bipolar i and some friends who were willing to talk about theirs, then changing it to fit Remus’s existing Absolutely Feral personality, Jared and Payton are OC’s and teammates of Remus, the three of them are known for wrecking havoc at all times because none of them possess a braincell.

The art studio was empty, filled only by the assorted music of Remus’s sculpting playlist on the bluetooth speaker he brought in, and Remus himself. His hands glide through the wet clay and he basks in the slimy feeling between his fingers. Remus’s hair is held back by a small headband and he is wearing a tank top and jogging pants already covered in various mediums he has used through the day. He does not know where the energy to finish every project for this semester came from but he isn’t about to object.

If you were to look around this studio, there is a high contrast painting of a tentacle creature that is unsettling in an almost unidentifiable way, half of a self-portrait which uses resin teeth as the main element, as well as his current project of a large cup shaped like a decapitated head. In short, while Remus believes these are his best pieces, the chances of the university permitting them to be displayed are very low.

Remus gets frustrated that the music didn’t seem to be filling his inspiration in the way he hoped he changes the song revealing it to be approximately 4am, and no texts received since he sent D a picture if the teeth pile around 10pm.

—

“Can you go wake Remus up and ask if he wants any breakfast, he really shouldn’t sleep in this late, even if it is Saturday” D asks from the stove while Roman grabs his carton of milk from the fridge and doesn’t bother grabbing a cup.

D grimaces at him as he chugs back the milk, once again thankful that they have separate ones (even if that is at fault of Remus deciding to mix apple juice with milk in the carton without alerting anyone else in the household). “He actually headed out like, real early this morning, I spoke to him when I got up for a shower at like six. He said he’d be back today though?” Roman replied ignoring D’s look.

“Well, that’s even weirder. I’ll make extras so he can eat when he gets back, it's already eleven.”

“Sounds good,” Roman noticing D’s almost done slides a few plates next to him and accepts D’s soft ‘thanks’.

Suddenly they hear someone miss the keyhole three times before getting it and entering. Unsurprisingly, it’s Remus inappropriately dressed for a casual outing, surprisingly he seems to be holding several bags full of merchandise. “Helloo roommates! Look what I bought!” Remus shouts, slamming the door with his foot and bringing his bags to the couch.

“Are those... cups?” D asks turning off the stovetop to curiously check out Remus’s merch load.

“Hell yeah they are! I figured since you-” He pokes at D, “Took away all our glass cups after me and Roman went to that last party, I would take it upon myself to replace them. Look!” Remus proudly pulls the ugliest Jar Jar Binks cup out of one of the bags.

Roman visibly recoils as his brother parades the worst cup he’s ever seen around their apartment. D rolls his eyes but collects the cup and hesitantly places it into the dishwasher. “Thank you, Remus, these cups are horrid but they’re functional, which, I guess is good enough. Though, how much did these cost?”

“No idea, probably around sixty bucks total though, maybe. I went to three different thrift stores. Look at this one!” Remus holds up a vaguely terrifying cup that seems like it may have once resembled Spongebob Squarepants to Roman.

“That’s… Great, Remus, thanks” Roman says taking the offered item.

—

The three make it to practice 20 minutes early because Roman likes to prove he’s dedicated and a good captain. Coach Thomas and Joan greet them and Thomas talks to Roman briefly as Joan finishes setting things up. D and Remus do some stretches as others begin to show up, D comments on Remus being shaky and Remus hops around quickly explaining that he just woke up with a lot of energy for some reason.

Coach Thomas reminds Remus to take his time during practices speeding through everything doesn’t work if he keeps messing up before he even makes it halfway through.

—

D is going to kill Remus tomorrow morning. The repetitive sound of the bedframe slamming against their shared wall, and Remus wailing like a cat in heat at 1am is not something he wants to deal with right now. It’s a Tuesday night and D knows Remus has a class at 11am, one that D will not let him skip because he decided getting laid was more important. How does Remus even get a man to willingly enter that nightmare of a room? D rummages through his bedside table for ear plugs and regrets giving Roman the far room so easily.

—

“Jesus- Hello? Do you know what time it is?” The tired voice answers the phone after the third time of going to voicemail.

“Of course I don’t, Jared, I’m not a fucking nerd! I just thought I might extend my offer of filling the fountain in the middle of campus with bubble bath and a swim to you and Payton! D already said if I woke him up he would cut my dick off and feed it to his snake,” Remus audibly pouted at the end of his sentence.

Despite it being three am, it didn’t take a lot for Jared to wake up Payton and agree to meet him just off campus to run to the 24/7 convenience store for soap for the fountain. Remus leads the group in talking a mile a minute about something that Jared and Payton actually missed out on entirely. They try to contribute but realize Remus doesn’t notice when they have their own conversation anyways. They listen to him vaguely flit through topic after topic and get lost and confused in his own sentences, and once the soap is collected, they head to the large fountain in the middle of campus.

The fifth bottle of soap has been discarded and the fountain is sufficiently bubbly by the time the three hockey players strip to their boxers and begin their bath. There are attempted drownings, bubble beards, and the fountain change being thrown around.

At some point Remus stops talking for a second, observing the lithium bulbs through the fountain streams and bubbles floating across the courtyard. For a moment, he thinks he’s never been this happy in his life, these last few days have been the best days of his life. He lets Jared and Payton know this and like stare at him for a moment before teasing him about going soft and a few “I love you, bro” “Dude, you mean so much to me” and such were exchanged. They leave moments before campus security’s due to do their rounds in the early morning and laugh when about an hour later they receive a campus-wide notification to avoid the courtyard for repairs.

—

Remus spends most of practice being more annoying than usual. He gets a bit more of a stern talking to than he has in a while, in response says that he’ll try to do better to prepare for the game this weekend.

—

He did not succeed and got an even sterner talking to by Coach Thomas and Joan, and then by Roman separately.

—

Remus has a brief moment of clarity regarding his spending habits from the last week and a half in the middle of his current project. His solution is instead of buying the club size container of hot sauce, he makes a trip to the Taco Bell off campus. After dropping off the rest of his goods at the apartment, it was pretty late in the evening and he was dressed in nothing but neon green basketball shorts, slides, and a pretty badly stained grey tank top. Thankfully, Florida weather permitted this, though the looks he had been receiving all day disagreed. It likely did not help that if prompted, Remus wasn’t 100% on the last time that he slept, but if he had to guess it was two or three days ago, but that was probably a maximum of five hours. Surprisingly, he had never felt so good in his life. He’s also pretty sure he’s said that a lot this week.

He leaves Taco Bell with a small meal bag full of hot sauce at no cost.

—

D doesn’t ask any questions when he uses the bathroom in the early morning and is met with the sight of Remus in the bathtub. He is covered in a large variety of substances. The floor is covered in Taco Bell hot sauce wrappers, there’s a box full of water balloons of various colours and sizes. Remus waves with his available hand before he resumes filling the current water balloon with what may be a bulk container of banana lube. D pisses, not bothering to ask Remus to leave and just pulls the shower curtain over a little before washing his hands and deciding to figure it out tomorrow.

The next day, D woke up around 10am to a few texts saying some prick is throwing weird water balloons at first years off this academic building on campus. D didn’t think much about it until he was leaving his 12:30 lecture walking past splatters of mayo, egg, egg shells, hot sauce, and more, all separately. While observing the damage he found Remus asleep on some grass outside said academic building and had to call Logan for help to get him home. The two are used to this by now and D reminds himself to tell Remus to clear his ‘great ideas’ with someone containing a braincell.

—

Remus spends a good majority of his day listening to one song in the living room of the shared apartment. He was there when D left for classes, he was there when Roman left a little later in the day, failing to go to his own classes at all that day. The second D returns for lunch Remus is trying to explain a hidden meaning in the song, D brushes it off and reminds Remus, that to pass his classes he has to at least go.

—

This is Remus’s third night out in an area of town he really doesn’t know. He went home yesterday for early practice before coming back out. He knows it didn’t go well.

In attempts to make himself feel better, he blew a guy who’s name he already forgot but was hot as hell, he lost count of the shots he’s done, but at least there’s no practice tomorrow. He doesn’t have to worry about when he goes home, doesn’t have to worry about Roman or D and their weird concerned looks. He’s doing great! Why are they concerned, they just don’t get it.

At 2 am everyone gets kicked out of the club. Remus walks six blocks with his new friends with the promise of couch space to crash on and additional alcohol.

It’s suddenly 4:47 am and Remus is the only one awake and all the booze is gone. He is sitting under lithium streetlights smoking a cigarette on the porch of a strangers house with the humid Florida wind enables him to sit comfortably without a jacket. There is a moment, with sirens in the distance that Remus lets his eyes go out of focus. For the first time in who knows how long, he feels present. There is cracked cement under his feet, a dog barking a few houses down, and he wonders why he’s even here. The hidden Prince twin, here, in a city he has only been to once for a tournament, in a stranger’s house, drunk off his ass, his phone dead. He takes time to wonder, is this fun to him? It has to be right? Why did he just leave without telling anyone? Spending nights on the streets, or finding someone to go home with just so he didn’t have to find somewhere else to sleep. Is this who he is now?

He doesn’t know if he can answer that. Remus shakes himself before putting out his cigarette on his arm and deciding it doesn’t matter.

He still doesn’t sleep that night, but plugs in his phone and decides he needs to go home soon.

—

This is a different club than the previous night, someone sold Remus a few pills earlier and he figured why not? He feels better than ever. He lets the man he’s making out with know that and he lets out a kind of raspy laugh that Remus thinks is the hottest thing. He lets the other man know that too before sticking his tongue down his throat.

—

Remus is in the park yelling. It is almost 6pm, he pauses for a moment, completely forgetting what he was yelling about. He realizes that he is pretty drunk. Remus would normally like to say he only drinks with an excuse, but he doesn’t remember why he’s drunk, or how he got to the park. This isn’t near campus, he doesn’t recognize this park at all. He just stops yelling and googles the next bus to take him home.

—

Upon arriving home and greeting D, Remus falls asleep in his room for almost 12 hours to make up for the missing sleep from the last four days. When he is woken up for food and offered tylenol for his hangover, he tries to tell them he doesn’t have one. They don’t believe him, but he takes the food. Remus makes a joke recalling how the other day all he had eaten was some stale croutons he found in a pantry and half a bottle of Fireball he found in the fridge nearby. The joke did not land, but he was too busy laughing about it to notice.

The three eat their Sunday lunch with small amounts of banter and D switching between who he agrees with based on who’s statement didn’t sound like it came from a six year old. As they clean up, Remus starts excitedly talking about something that’s topic changed around four times in one sentence. Roman feigns interest but got lost and doesn’t care enough; D listens and has to ask Remus to repeat things slower every few minutes.

—

Several times throughout the night, D hears Remus loudly leave his room to check the front door. In the early morning D doesn’t hear Remus return to his room, but faintly hears netflix turn on in the living room.

In the morning, Remus seems wary of the door but does not say anything.

—

One day while messing around in the kitchen Remus is struck with the need to just go. The urge is so strong that the more he stands still in the kitchen the more his body just begins to tremble with barely contained energy. He doesn’t quite know where he’s going yet, but as he grabs his wallet, double checking he has his bus pass and ID, a jacket, his phone, and his keys. Without telling anyone, he walks to the main exchange near campus where he hops on the first bus that arrives. The bus isn’t particularly busy, and it makes it easier for him as he settles into the back of the bus bopping to his music, but not having the focus to listen to a song all the way through. He hits his hands softly on the very 90’s looking patterned seats to the beat of the song, watching out the windows with both legs bouncing. He rides this bus to the end of the line and catches the next bus to arrive at that bus exchange that takes him into a new smaller city. The sun is beginning to set and he finds a pub to grab some food and a few drinks at.

An hour and a half and four drinks later Remus is fighting some asshole in the pub and they both get kicked out. He wanders these smaller streets buzzed and poking at forming bruises while he smokes a cigarette. He walks by a convenience store and two homeless men outside ask him for a cigarette, he shares and spends a solid amount of time socializing with them and gets some booze for his troubles. They eventually part ways when one of them come out from the bathroom with a pack of stolen cookies. The store attendant chases them away and Remus finds himself wandering down empty streets again. Eventually, Remus decides to sleep for a few hours curled up in a stairwell, he doesn’t quite sleep, but does relax. Again, in the sounds of small city life, yellowed flickering light bulbs, and humid wind, Remus wonders why he’s out here.

—

The flashing neon lights and bass heavy music resonate through Remus’s bones like electricity giving him a never ending feedback loop of energy. Just before the club closes Remus sweet-talks a kind of nerdy looking guy into taking him home, while he’s mostly just hoping to not sleep outside tonight, getting laid wont hurt either.

—

Sneaking out of someone’s house before they wake up isn’t something Remus is necessarily proud of, but he doesn’t want to risk them doing something cheesy like make him breakfast. Sorry sir, Remus is a Manic Pixie Nightmare Boy, do not catch feelings, do not use for your own character development. He laughs to himself a little walking down the morning rush streets.

—

After waking up in bed with a man he doesn’t remember meeting the night before is a little jarring, but this is not the first time. It makes him wonder briefly if something is wrong with him. Remus is tired. Exhausted with himself and getting a little tired of this much fun. Instead of finding a diner for breakfast he catches a bus home and asks Logan if they can hang out tomorrow. If anyone will force him to go home, go to practice, sleep and not give him a choice to study or not without expecting him to explain himself. It will be everyone’s favourite Large Nerd. Remus doesn’t know what’s happening or why he feels like this, but he needs to go home and stop this for a little bit.Virgil, D, and Logan will help him get things a little back on track.