#it changed my whole view on fruit with chocolate

[gently-scrolling]

What's your favorite cookie?

One time I was in Spain with my family and I was so bored after several hours of my pale ass just sitting in the shade so I decided to take a walk and get some snacks. I originally wanted ice cream from a shop I’d visited before that had really fun flavours but I kept walking and saw a foodcart I hadn’t seen before.

Me and my fam usually went to the same place each summer the last 5 years so there were rarely anything new to see, but when the sign said something about cookies I had to try it. The lady who owned the cart didn’t speak english very well so I just pointed to one of the cookies that looked best and paid her. When I tell you this is the best thing I have ever eaten I’m not kidding. It was a chocolate blueberry cookie, very thick almost like it also had pieces of cookie doug in it after being baked. It was big, soft, warm, the perfect cookie. I got two more and some for my family and I kept buying them every day until I went home at the end of summer. But I haven’t seen the cookie cart since. No clue where she went and don’t remember what her name was so I’ll never get to eat her cookies again

Long story short: chocolate chip cookies are pretty dope.

[madhatterbri]

Fall For You | Wardlow

Summary: For your Fall Prompts. Can I have Wardlow with this one please.

You absolutely loving autumn and your partner hating that it's getting colder

Author's Note: Taken from my fall prompts list found here.

Wardlow Masterlist

Requested by: @magicalbuttertarts

Taglist: @smallestsnarkestgirl

The moment the first leaf fell to the ground, Wardlow wasn't having it. Every morning when he went to the gym, he observed the leaves beginning to change color. The once warm summer mornings were now a thing of the past. The cool, crisp air of fall was upon them. His girlfriend felt differently about his views.

The very second she stepped outside to the air, she was in Heaven. Y/N turned right back around and hung a fall wreath on their front door. By the time Wardlow came home, all the fall decorations from the garage were hung around the house. It bothered him at first, but seeing the twinkle in her eye made him content.

One Saturday morning, she planned a whole day full of fall activities for them to enjoy. She wanted him to fall in love with the cold and see the joys it brings. He was a little apprehensive but warmed up to the idea when he looked in her eyes. Due to his work schedule, they didn't spend much time together. A day with just the two of them were far apart.

The first stop found the couple at an orchard. She planned on them picking fruit together to bake a pie. He held the basket as they walked hand in hand. Y/N stopped to pick any apples she could reach.

"What about this one?" Wardlow asked. He reached out and grabbed one. She smiled wide when he participated.

"That one is the best, I bet," she answered. Her arms wrapped around his waist in a hug. The wrestler smiled and kissed the top of her head.

When they were done picking apples, they went for a hike in one of their favorite parks. A picnic basket in one hand, they walked hand in hand to the bottom of a waterfall. The leaves around them were orange, red, and yellow. Wardlow laid the blanket on the ground. The two of them enjoyed their favorite treats. Y/N swore she saw Wardlow enjoying the scenery despite the chill in the air.

By the end of lunch, they were cuddling under a tree. His hand rubbed her back up and down. As it started to become dark, they walked back to their car. He opened the trunk and noticed a suitcase. Wardlow raised a curious eyebrow at her.

"I have one last surprise for you. You'll like it," she promised. He shook his head with a chuckle and closed the door.

The drive to the surprise was filled with him questioning her about the last surprise. He never guessed that she booked a cabin for them in the mountains. With no service, they were able to cut themselves off from the world.

Once inside the cabin, they went to work baking an apple pie with the apples they picked. The apple pie filling ended up landing on the other's face. They licked off the other's cheeks or lips. The baking process took longer than expected.

Once the pie was done baking, they enjoyed the pie outside with some hot chocolate. They swung on the porch swing just enjoying the weather and each other's company. She laid over him as his back rested against the side of the swing. A blanket covered her body, yet she still started to shiver.

"You know it's getting a little cold out here. You showed me all the ways to enjoy autumn. Why don't I show you how else we can keep warm?" He asked with a smirk. He scooped her in his arms and took her inside.

[treepan0]

some random August stuff

after watching some stuff I have some things to go through, and to mention in her lore as well.

August isn't her birth name something that should be obvious, since all canon tuffles get their names from fruit actually, with Baby as the one exception. Kamin and Oren get their names from oranges, Dr.Lychee named after a soap berry native to asia and even Hatchiyack continues this trend. (though Hatchiyack has a very long winded thing about it, and his name has two different things going on)

so lore wise her name was changed for a number of reasons, how she views herself being one of them

August's old name is Nana, because (ba)nana. my reasoning is straightforward actually:

1. Banana bread came to mind, since it's a baked good that doesn't have excessive fruit name overlap like some do. there's two characters with both possible blueberry name combinations, there's a lot of apples, I already stretched raspberries (rasp my beloved), etc.

2. Banana milk is a thing in japan, as bananas are seen as a sweet and rare treat, it's like chocolate milk pretty much. (just with bananas)

3. Nana is a more discrete pun, and actually reflects her personality, since Nana can also refer to a babysitter or grandmother in english.

4. it gives Frieza and those like him, a way to insult or joke about August if they want to at that moment.

August had two parents and a brother, her brother gets his name from the mushroom she's inspired by since I could never think of anything.

her mom's name was: Milone

her dad's name was: Durn

and her older brother was named Pecki

so melon, durian, hydnellum peckii and bananas, what a bunch. Heh I wasn't even trying

August doesn't get along with Dr.Lychee and Hatchiyack at all, but can tolerate them if in a situation calls for it. Most of the time it's Hatchiyack that makes things awkward.

even if she hasn't legally adopted them, she can and will act like a motherly figure to Kamin and Oren. more often than not it's Kamin that has problems with it, by that I mean Kamin's the equivalent of the "this is fine" meme the whole time

the only people she has explicitly allowed to call her Nana are: Goku, Gohan, Krillin, Tenshinhan, Yamcha, Piccolo (after he redeems himself), 17, 18, Kamin, Oren, and in some timelines Baby and Cooler as well. (mainly in timelines where they're on mostly friendly terms) not that such things always stop Vegeta of course, but those are the ones that have her permission, since her true name affects her emotionally.

it's not a Goku-Kakarot situation August remembers her old name, just has a lot of unpleasant memories and feelings tied to it. most the time her true name is used to pull her from her thoughts when needed

[bike42]

Wednesday September 4, 2024

A cup of tea, some chocolate and a game of cribbage and then a great night’s sleep. I didn’t even wake up until 8am! I did some yoga, we went down to breakfast, then packed up and we were out walking by 10am.

After three blocks, we rejoined the route and began to see pilgrims - a lot of pilgrims! So many pilgrims that it increased our anxiety about finding places to stay in the evenings. We’re fine tonight, but after that we’d planned to “wing it,” however now we are second guessing that plan. We’ll have to discuss with our team members tonight!

We were walking doing a street in the business district, when a man standing at a cafe was hollering to the passing pilgrims that he had a stamp! Well, we were anxious to get our new credentials stamped so we took him up on it. It was a great business model as once we went into the cafe, he asked if we wanted Pastel de Natas, and even though we’d just had breakfast, of course we did!! We got them to go however.

We joined the pilgrims heading north along the waterfront. It was a gorgeous clear day, although a stiff breeze blew from the north like yesterday. About 2 miles from Matosinhos, the Oceanside paved trail turned to boardwalk, and our route generally followed a gorgeous boardwalk the whole way. Besides the great view and walking surface, there were clean public toilets and drinking fountains nearly every kilometer.

There were ample spots for taking breaks, and we took one at mile 3 to each our pastries, and mile 6 for another snack. Meanwhile, we were leapfrogging pilgrims, and they us as we took breaks at different times. Other than “Bon Camino” greetings, we didn’t have extended conversations with any of them - heard many different foreign languages being spoken however!

We’d heard from San that they were in Frankfurt and ready to board the plane for Porto, but then nothing more. I can track her phone and saw they were in the Porto airport, but then it stuck hl there (she must have turned off her phone).

We arrived in Labruge about 1pm, likely too early to check into our accommodation so I suggested we sit at a cafe and have lunch. Labruge is the first fishing village we’ve come to - clearly out of the bigger city of Porto now! Lots of locals out on the Main Street, eating and talking in an animated manner.

We sat at a cafe and figured out you had to go inside to order, so I did that. I was having a hard time explaining I wanted 2 ham and cheese sandwiches, so the clerk called a younger worker over who spoke great English.

After lunch, we stopped at a supermarket and bought fruit, nuts and beer since we were close to our accommodation. We walked past a campground and kept going to the address Google maps was taking us to. It looked like a house, and I had some uncertainty, but I rang the bell on the gate. I woman answered and I told her my name and that I had a reservation. She responded in Portuguese. We repeated that a few times, and she finally came out. I tried to show her the reservation on my phone, but she pointed down the street. It was then I recalled that our reservation was for a “bungalow” in the campground - duh! I am just now wondering if others have buzzed her gate before that she knew where to send us!

We checked in and walked back to our bungalow - like a little trailer with two bedrooms (3 beds) and a sofa bed … plus kitchen, bathroom and a nice porch. It’ll do for the 5 of us for one night!

We showered, did our sink laundry and were relaxing outside when we got a text that they were at the gate. We gave them instructions and soon they were walking down the lane - impressively, they walked 5 miles from the airport after an overnight flight!

We had a beer, they changed and we walked to town (about 1km). They were hungry and anxious to see the ocean! It was about 5pm and cooling off already, but we were smart enough to grab our puffy coats tonight!

In search of dinner, we found a Tapas place that was open, with fun staff and had an adventurous dinner: stout beer, Port & Tonics, shrimp, mussels, clams, salad, bread, potatoes, salmon and sardines! Jeff had asked about a melon looking thing on the bar, and they sliced it up and brought it to us for dessert!

After dinner, we made another stop at the store and bought a few things for breakfast and some additional snacks.

We headed out to our place and the Arrivals were understandably very tired. I was anxious to make a plan for tomorrow: how far to walk and where would we stay? When we decided where to go, I started looking at accommodations on the Camino app and found everything already booked. I know there are places that don’t appear on the app, but I just couldn’t see showing up at 5pm when you’ve hiked 15 miles and are exhausted, and then have to do a room search. I found a hotel with 2 single beds for €100 per night - Matt and San were too tired to be dealing with it, and it wasn’t clear to me if they wanted to share with Janet or if they all needed to book - stuff we’ll have to work out as we go! Janet did book an apartment where they’ll all stay, about 20 minutes from our hotel - stay tuned!

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[5:11 pm]

(cw: food) (I had imagined this as non-idol)

The drinks you had ordered a couple hours ago had long since been finished. The coffee and even the water from melted ice, now long gone. The little plate from the shared piece of fruit tart you had ordered an hour after you both got here was left empty besides the two forks and sparse crumbs. 

This was your first date with Renjun, he had taken the initiative after a few months of friendship and weeks of bashful flirting by asking you on a date. “This,” he claimed, “is the best cafe you will ever go to. If I’m wrong I give you full permission to throw whatever you order in my face.”

You had laughed, reassuring him that you wouldn’t do that. Now, on the actual date, the thought that the coffee was good- not the best had left your mind. Not because the coffee was not completely gone, but Renjun was massively winning you over.

You knew Renjun was funny and nice, but he had turned out to be just about every other great adjective in the book as well. Not just funny and nice, but rather hilarious and genuinely kind hearted. Yes, he was a little bit sassy and sarcastic, that you knew, but never enough to be rude.

You had moved past the initial awkwardness that came from the date and were now fully immersed in a conversation about your hobbies. You had already told Renjun about your own, now listening intently as he spoke. 

You were resting your head on hand which was propped up on the table-  eyes locked on the boy sitting in front of you. He was speaking very passionately as he discussed his art with you. How the colors could change, how he could create something from a blank canvas, being able to express his feelings with no words. 

You were able to tell that art was not just a hobby for Renjun, it was one of his passions. He was speaking with his hands and his eyes were lighting up, his eyes looked so cute. With the sun setting, the golden lighting creating a warm light through the whole cafe, Renjun’s eyes became more bright, pools of amber with chocolate swirls. 

“I don’t think you’re listening anymore,” you heard.

“I was! You were telling me about how you tried digital art and didn’t like it.”

His eyebrows quirked up, “So it seems you were listening, sorry. It just looked like you zoned out for a bit. You didn’t even blink, kinda creepy.”

You laughed, “I can tell you what I was looking at, but it’s so cheesy.” He nodded at you encouragingly, eyes full of curiosity. 

You groaned, hands coming up to cover your face to help you hide from the embarrassment you felt. One of his hands came to gently wrap around your wrists, pulling your hands down so you could look at him. 

You took a deep breath, feeling even more nervous with his eyes staring directly into your own. “Well, the sun is setting and the whole cafe looks really warm and cozy. But when the sun hit you, your eyes looked so pretty. You were speaking so passionately already so your eyes looked extra bright. I don’t know all the shades of colors you know but your eyes looked like swirls of I don’t know- more than just brown.”

“More than just brown, nice.” He replied with a playful roll of his eyes. 

You threw your head back with a laugh, “I just told you I was distracted by your gorgeous eyes and all you have to say is ‘nice?’”

He looked away from you, trying to hide his heated face from your view. You both stayed silent for a while, Renjun trying to calm down his racing heart and your eyes not leaving him.

“I really like you Renjun,” you told him softly. 

“I would hope so, it would be kind of weird to call my eyes immaculate pools of honeyed caramel mocha if you didn’t.”

You reached across the table to lightly push his shoulder, he moved quickly, grabbing your hand and placing a light kiss at the back of your hand, “I really like you too.”

You smiled, heart happy as can be, “Want to walk me home?”

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (15/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 3.2k words

Warning : fluff, smut, Steve being nice for once, mention of assault, healthy communication, drinking, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca, talk about therapy, fucking on a dressing table, I added the link for the dressing table so it could be easier to imagine lol

Both of you were far from okay, Bucky knew that. You needed time and energy to put in this relationship, and Bucky would patiently wait and giddily put in the work required. 

Just like last time all those months ago, Bucky prepared a plate of fruits with juice for you. If you'd let him in your life, then one thing was sure — you were never having that damn coffee for breakfast. How did you even survive? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Bucky was baffled when he found out you functioned on nothing but caffeine.

 “Good Morning!” he greeted, you were awake and seated on the couch. “I got you breakfast that isn't caffeine.”

You didn't meet his eyes, but smiled timidly nevertheless. You cringed at your immaturity. Getting drunk instead of having a proper conversation like adults was not your wisest decision. Your last conversation was horrid. What was worse was that he was still being so nice to you when all you wanted was for the ground to open and swallow you whole. It was embarrassing.

You avoided his gaze, and Bucky didn't press the matter any further.

You exhaled loudly and requested, “We need to talk.”

Here it was, Bucky thought. He hoped you both could at least have breakfast blissfully, ignoring the elephant in the room. But he assumed the sooner, the better. Bucky took a seat beside you on the office couch.

“I’m sorry.”

 “I’m sorry.”

Both of you apologized at the same time. Bucky continued, “What I did was a fucked up thing to do. I had no right to decide for you. I'm sorry for hurting you.”

 “I’m sorry for handling the situation immaturely. It was dumb to get drunk and act like that.”

Bucky nodded, he didn't need your apology. He was the one who was at fault here. Although, he would never acknowledge this, but he was glad you got drunk and came to him. He wasn’t smart enough to realize his mistake and if he continued with his stubbornness, then he would have lost you.

Instinctively, he took your palm in his, lacing your fingers with his and placing the entwined hands on his lap. “I — The incident with Rumlow and the kidnapping affected me a lot. More than I would like to admit,” you acknowledged, “And I don't think I’m dealing with everything healthily.”

“What do you need me to do?”

You sighed and propped your head on his shoulder. “Just be there for me.”

Bucky raised your intertwined hands, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, “Always.”

“I don't want our bakery to be just a dream,” he sounded so unsure that you raised your head to look at him. “I want to get out of this life — of the club.” 

“Can you even do that?” You weren’t very knowledgeable about his business, but from what you've gathered getting out wasn't an option.

“I talked with Sam and Steve, and it would take a while, but it's not impossible. I’d have to put in a lot of money, and it will take time, maybe even years, but it can be done.”

For the millionth time, Bucky left you speechless. You didn't want him to change his entire life because of you. You loved Bucky and you would take him just the way he was. With his good and bad, albeit there wasn't anything bad. “Do you want that?”

He looked at you in offense. To him, you sounded insane. Of course, he wanted that. All he ever wanted was a serene life, and now he could have that life with you in it, you were double guessing your worth. Maybe he didn't think this through, but there was no need to question his choice. Bucky was sure of one thing in his life. “I want you. I want you in my life and I want my ma and Bec. And I can't have the most important people in my life if I don’t leave this behind. So yes, this is what I want.”

You smiled at him, and he would kill to make that smile a permanent residence on your face, you didn’t want him to make this crucial decision in his life because of you.

“Plus, maybe some chocolate essence would finally break you out of your writer's block,” Bucky teased, quoting the words you said to him all those days ago and you giggled.

The rest of the morning was spent in comfortable silence as you both ate breakfast.

Bucky wanted to tell his friends about his decision, and he wanted you there beside him. You were terrified, you finally made friends with someone, and now they were going to hate you because you were taking their friend away from him. And Steve already hated you, that wasn't the impression you were planning on forming on his best friend.

To your dismay, everyone looked pleased with the verdict. Turns out, all of them hated hiding their families too. You should have known — worrying every second about your loved ones could make one very restless. 

It was finally decided that the club would just be that — a club. No more side businesses or illegal deals or enemies like Rumlow — it would just be a normal club. The club would go to Sam and Steve, and Wanda would take Clint’s place as the manager. It was also collectively decided that Peter had to go. He was just a kid who wanted to make money for his college tuition. Which now would be paid fully by Bucky. Peter could still work at the club as a part-time job, but he had to go to college too.

It was satisfying to see all of them so content with this decision. You expected at least Steve to interject, but he looked pleased too. What you did not expect was for Steve to approach you and start a conversation with you. You were just standing on the balcony while everyone was celebrating. You told Bucky you needed some air when he asked you what was wrong.

“He really likes you, you know.” 

“I hope so,” you joked, and you saw a smile forming on Steve's lips. Progress, you thought to yourself.

“I haven't been the nicest person to you and I’m sorry for that.”

You looked at Steve in disbelief. Okay, you weren't expecting that. “I don’t know why you hate me. I mean, we barely know each other,” you replied, honestly.

Steve inhaled sharply as he said, “I knew Buck since we were kids. He never hid anything from me until a few months ago.”

What has that to do with you? You looked at him puzzled and he continued, “He attacked Rumlow. Around 3 months ago, he attacked him and we never attack first — always retaliate. That's why Rumlow came after you because Bucky started the fight. I knew it had something to do with you, but he just wouldn't tell me.”

And just like that, you knew exactly what he was talking about. The timing matched with Rumlow’s attempt to inappropriately touch you without consent. 

“I — Rumlow came here during my shift,” you stammered, you didn't know how to tell him. You wanted to heal, you wanted people to know on your accord with your permission. And you wanted Steve to know. “I told him no - several times, but he just wouldn’t stop touching.”

You wanted to be able to talk about this without breaking down every time. And that was a good enough start, you knew Bucky would be proud of you.

Steve's expression morphed into one of guilt immediately. He was smart enough to join the dots, and he felt like an idiot for blaming you and Bucky. “I’m so sorry.”

 “Don't be,” you smiled at him, “You didn't know.”

Steve didn’t know how to react. He felt like a dick — he was a dick for not even considering your point of view. Bucky kept saying that he couldn't tell and Steve should have understood or taken the hint, but he was so mad at you that it blinded his judgement.

The conversation turned uneasy, so you quickly changed the topic and retorted to a joke. “Did you know that Bucky owns a customized t-shirt that says ‘I heart Y/N’?”

Steve chortled a laugh and said, “Now that I do, I’m never gonna stop teasing him about it.”

“It was cute, okay?” you defended.

“Sure it was,” he huffed, “Would you and Bucky like to come for dinner this weekend? Sarah misses her Uncle Bucky and to date Bucky for real you would definitely need her approval.”

***

You examined yourself in the mirror as you straightened the outfit you decided to wear for dinner. You wondered whether it would impress a four-year-old.

Bucky stood behind you, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“I’m kinda nervous,” you confessed.

He furrowed his brows in bewilderment, snaking his arms around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. He whispered in your ears, sending a chill down your spine. “You look gorgeous, doll.”

You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. He gently rubbed his thumbs along your clothed stomach, and you felt calmer. His touch had that effect on you. His touch and presence was enough to make you feel content and for the first time in your life, you weren’t scared. You weren't running away from your vulnerabilities — no, you were swimming into it. And you weren't scared of drowning because you knew Bucky was holding you.

 “I love you,” you breathed, “I love you so much, Buck.”

Bucky extended one of his hands towards your face and gently held your chin between his fingers. Lightly, he rubbed his thumb across your lower lip before lifting your face sideways, claiming your lips with his in a tender and slow kiss. “I love you so much, doll. More than humanly possible.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears and you kissed him again reverently, “Do we have time to spare?” 

“We always have time,” Bucky mumbled against your lips, turning you in his arms to face him. 

Both of you were so eager to feel each other that you didn't even get rid of your clothes completely — just enough to feel the other. He held your hips and lifted you on the dressing table, and you facilitated by spreading your legs open.

Bucky didn't waste a second before diving his tongue inside your mouth, making you feel dizzy with just the intensity of the kiss. One hand in your hair, the other running up your back to hold your neck, craning your skull to give him better access to your mouth. He devoured you like you were a delicious meal that he was starving to taste. 

The hand in your hair hastened towards your breast, squeezing your covered nipple enough to make you gasp into his mouth and get your core wet. He did the same with the other before his hand continued its journey towards your cunt.

Bucky didn't waste any time — quickly, he pushed your dripped panties out of his way and his fingers teased your slit before one digit made its way inside you. His mouth left yours, and he nibbled your jaw and reached the lobe of your ear before whispering, “I’ve barely touched you and you're already so wet for me, pretty girl.”

Before you could react to his lewd words, another finger entered your willing cunt and you clenched around him. “Bucky,” you breathed, your voice barely audible with the intensity of your oncoming orgasm. “Want you now, baby.”

Suddenly, his digits retreated, leaving you empty, whimpering and clenching around nothing. He gave a few quick strokes to his already hard cock before plunging inside you and muffling your cries by crashing his lips with yours. 

He gave you time to adjust to his length and when you nodded, he started thrusting in an enticing speed that had you grasping him around your cunt. Every push of his cock had you seeing stars. All that pent-up anticipation and sexual frustration had you coming in no time, but Bucky didn't relent. “Give me one more, sweet girl.”

His hand reached in between your bodies, instantly locating your clit, and you moaned loudly against his shoulder. Bucky toyed with your ear lobe, gently biting then moving downwards to the spot between your neck and clavicle. He licked before sucking harshly and then licking again to soothe the pain. You held his back so tightly that you were sure it must be hurting him, but he didn't complain, instead he growled in your ear as you tried to hold him inside you — tighter than before.

His hand was running calculated circles on your clit combined with his ruthless pace, and you were reaching your second orgasm faster than you imagined. “Bucky, I’m gonna —”

“I know, baby,” he groaned in your ear, increasing his pace, and a moment ago you didn't think that was possible.

You both reached your high together as he released his seed inside you, and that solely had you nearing your third orgasm. Bucky noticed and smirked before his still hand started running circles on your bundle of nerves again and gave you a few languid thrusts that made you reach the euphoria where you hadn't been before.

He held you, brushing your hair off your face, rubbing his thumb across your forehead to rid you of the sweat, praising you for being such a good girl for him. Once you were back from the land of bliss, he cleaned you both up before straightening your dress out — making you appear like he didn't fuck your brains out on a dressing table.

***

“Traffic,” you lied while Bucky smirked as he placed his hand on the small of your back.

Sam looked at you - both of you with a playful look in his eyes and Steve bought your lie without a second question.

As you entered the living room, you were met with a kid that reminded you a lot of Alec and Izzy. “Uncle Bucky,” she squealed before jumping in the arms of a bent down Bucky.

She stretched a hand towards you and said, “Sarah.”

You smiled at her and took her hand in yours before giving her your name. She looked at you with so much delight in her eyes that had you melting in a second. Oh, that reminded you, “Babe, the cake.”

“Oh, right,” Bucky scrambled to his feet and made his way towards the car to bring the gift you two brought for the family.

“Did you make it, Uncle Bucky,” Sarah asked as Bucky handed her the cake. She grinned when he nodded, “I’m gonna eat all of this myself.”

Bucky smiled, “It's all for you, sweetie.”

She held the cake in one hand and your hand in another before rushing into the kitchen with you.

Sam handed Bucky a glass of a drink that he didn't even notice because his gaze was fixed on you helping Steve and Sarah. You said something to Steve and he laughed loudly. When did you and Steve become friends? He wondered.

“Traffic, huh?” Sam teased Bucky once his daughter was out of their hearing range. Bucky nearly choked on the drink and coughed in embarrassment.

Sam eyed Bucky mischievously and told him to take a seat on the table. Bucky didn't listen and if he did then he pretended to ignore Sam’s words and made his way to the kitchen - to you.

You yelped when you felt two strong hands engulf you from behind, calming down only when Bucky chuckled and whispered in your ear, “Hey, it's only me, doll.”

Eventually, everyone made their way to the dinner table. The food was amazing, some of it was made by Sam - some of it by Steve. Sam’s cooking was clearly better, but Bucky told you not to tell him that because then Sam would get all smug about it. Bucky’s hand rested on your upper thigh for the entirety of the meal.

It brought you back to the time when you both were at your parents’ place and even then the gesture was so welcomed by your body and you. Although you always told him about how inappropriate a relationship with him would be, you secretly hoped that he would call you out on your bullshit. Anyone with eyes could see that you wanted him since the very beginning. Well, anyone except Bucky.

After dinner, Sarah went to bed and it was just you, Bucky, Sam and Steve situated in their living room with a drink in everyone’s hand. 

“The cake was amazing,” you told Bucky when he took a seat beside you on the sofa. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and held your outer thighs with his other before placing you on his lap. You wrapped your hands around his shoulder and awkwardly looked around at Sam and Steve, exhaling in relief when you found them busy in their own conversation, oblivious to their friend’s antics.

“I can make cakes forever for you, doll.”

“Well, you'd have to make cakes forever if you wanna open a bakery,” you sassed and he laughed before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You beamed at him, placing your head against his shoulder, “I’ve been thinking. With everything that has happened with Rumlow and my family. I think I’ve not dealt with all of it and it still bothers me.”

Nervously, you looked at him and found him already gazing at you with a look so patient and intense. You could see his adoration for you swirl around his eyes and you hoped he could see that same emotion reflecting in your eyes.

“And I don’t want to burden you with my shit, I think I’m gonna start therapy.”

He cupped your face in his palms and you looked at him anxiously. It was a big step - your relationship with him - finally acknowledging that you carried trauma that is affecting your life in more ways that you would like to admit. “Whatever you need, honey. I will be there for you.”

You leaned into his touch, craning your neck before pressing a kiss on his palm. “Did you think you'd be crazy for me when I walked in for the bartender's job?”

He laughed at your teasing words, holding your chin between his fingers and dipped his head down to kiss you. “I love you,” he mumbled against your lips, “And I have a feeling that we’ll be alright.” 

“We’ll be alright,” you repeated his words. It was a promise of a happy and hopeful future - a future you were going to have with him. ”I love you.” You sealed the promise with your lips on his.

⁓

TAGS: @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @sabrinathesimp @realgaytrash​ 

Taglist for future stuff. 

A/N - I had an epilogue planned but idk - this feels very complete to me and I'm scared that if I add anything then it'll ruin the end. I think I'll take a day, think it through, try writing the epilogue and if I ended up liking it. Then of course, you'll get it. Bye Take care!! 

[winterscaptain]

spoiled.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: happy valentine’s day! 

words: 2.1k warnings: language, over-the-top valentine’s day shenanigans

summary: “the best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds.” - nicholas sparks. au!february 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

Aaron leaves rather early in the morning, leaving you in bed complaining with only a kiss for your trouble. 

When you eventually get up, on track to be about fifteen minutes late to the federal building, you find a pair of post-its on the fridge. 

Always the romantic. 

+++

The evening rolls around and finds you on the couch with Jess and Jack. 

“You gonna start getting ready?” Jess asks. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you.” 

You look over at her. “Wait. He told you what we’re doing?”

She nods. “Yeah. You have no idea. He hasn’t done a big Valentine’s Day thing since he surprised Haley in her senior year of college. He’s been looking for an excuse.” 

That’s terrifying. 

“Guess I better get ready then.” 

Jack’s got a funny little smile on his face, but you ignore it. You’re sure the Hotchner boys are in cahoots, but it’s not really worth it to try and wiggle anything out of him. 

You head to the master bedroom to get dressed, throwing off your slouchy day-off clothes in favor of something that can take you to a fancy dinner and whatever else Aaron has planned for your evening.

+++

You walk out of the apartment, hearing Jess lock the door behind you. When you reach the front of the apartment complex, Aaron closes the car door as he hops out, meeting you halfway to the sidewalk. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

He’s wearing a black button-up, black slacks, and his favorite pair of black oxfords. It’s a sharp look and one he knows you love. 

“You’re looking quite dapper yourself, sir.” 

The boyish grin on his face melts your heart and you take the arm he offers. Like a real gentleman, he opens the door for you and makes sure you’re inside before closing you in.

+++

The drive is quiet. You ask about the office once or twice, but it’s clear there’s nothing significant to report. 

“So...what are we doing tonight?” 

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “Dinner. And a few other things.” 

+++

When he says ‘dinner,’ he’s not joking. The restaurant is a high-end, no-prices-on-the-menu type of place. The lighting is low, the environment cozy and quiet. 

He must have planned this months ago. Reservations are like gold on Valentine’s Day. 

Aaron’s squinting at the menu across from you. It makes you laugh. 

“Need a flashlight and your reading glasses?”

“Shut up.” It comes with his own laugh, but he’s still squinting. 

You finally decide on something and order, trusting Aaron’s taste in wine. When the waiter leaves, Aaron reaches across the table for your hand. 

“Okay,” he says. You recognize his tone - it’s professional, like he’s starting a press conference. “No work, no kids, no serial killers.” 

You smile, waiting for him to give you a little more context. 

“How are you?” 

What a question. 

How often does the answer to that question not include work, kids, or serial killers? 

Not very. 

“I’m good.” You mean it. “I’m really good.” 

There’s a small smile on his face. “Why?”

Are you profiling me now, Hotch? 

Deciding to give him shit, you ask, “Why am I good, or is that a more general existential question?” 

He rolls his eyes and you relent. 

“Alright. Well…” You take a breath. “There are a lot of things to be happy about. You, for one thing.” 

“Me?” He asks. He looks genuinely surprised. 

Fool. 

“Yes, you.” You squeeze his hand. “You are my best friend and somehow - somehow - I’ve landed you as my partner. I am living out everything I dreamed of at twenty-five.” 

That pulls another smile from him. “Really?” Again, he looks genuinely surprised. 

Can’t believe I’ve never told this to him. 

Ridiculous

“Oh yeah. I can’t believe you never noticed. I had a huge crush on you - instantly. Derek gave me nothing but hell once he figured it out.” You pause. “Do you remember that time on the plane, really early on, when I woke up and everyone thought I had a nightmare?” 

Looking a little confused by your change in direction, and you don’t blame him. 

“I think so? I remember we all felt so bad.” He shrugs. “We all get them, of course - still do - but we were worried about you.”

“Right. So -” 

Aaron’s head tilts to the left as he interrupts you. “Did you say ‘everyone thought’ it was a nightmare?” 

Your face gets hot and you suddenly regret bringing this up at all. “Yeah. I’m getting to that.” 

With an embarrassed huff, you continue. “So, it wasn’t a nightmare.” 

“No?” The question comes accompanied by a frown. 

“No. It was a sex dream. About you.” 

You can tell he’s doing his best to hide his smile for your benefit, but there’s a threatening dimple that gives him away and you’ve simply known him too long for him to get away with anything. 

“Really?” His tone is neutral, polite, but you can hear the humor behind the apparently bland interest. 

“Yep.” 

“What - if I may ask - was it about? Specifically?” 

You take a breath and adopt the same kind of ironic professionalism as Aaron. “Well, now it doesn’t seem so notable, because i’m more than familiar with your, um, technique.” 

And it’s true. Though you hardly remember the details of the dream anymore - it's been years - you know that real life doesn’t even come close. 

Aaron pulls his hand from yours and steeples his fingers under his chin. He’s the picture of interest, so you continue. 

“The key points are as follows -” 

He holds up a finger, and you stop. “On second thought,” he says. “I think this recollection would be better served by a demonstration.”

You nod. “You’re probably right.” 

“I’ll pencil it in.” 

You grin at each other for a moment, the back-and-forth of it so deeply on brand you can’t help but steep in it for a second. 

“So,” he says, “as you were saying before…?” 

“Right.” 

Back to business. 

“I had a huge crush on you and could swear you were the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” 

Never one to forgo an opportunity to compliment him when he’s not actively swatting at you, you continue. 

“In the lecture you gave with Gideon and Derek, I knew you were in charge before you said anything. Even though Gideon had the years and experience on you, it was clear that everything came through you.” You attempt to explain the inarticulable. “There’s a kind of steadiness - one you still have - that radiates off of you.” 

The two of you sit in that for a moment. 

You continue. “And then, of course, when we met again I had to really focus on not making an ass of myself in front of Strauss.” 

He laughs. His laughter makes you laugh, of course. It’s so much higher than his speaking register, so delightful in its unexpectedness. 

“Okay, okay.” You stop, covering your face with your hands. “Okay this is cheesy. Promise not to laugh.” 

His eyebrows rise and he forces his mouth into something that only threatens a dimple once more. 

“When you shook my hand in Radner’s office, there was this crazy jolt of energy or something that just flew up my arm. It was wild. I’ve never been able to forget it, almost like a flashbulb memory.”

As promised, he doesn’t laugh. There is, however, a kind of wonder in his eyes when he replies, “You felt that, too?”

+++

After dinner (and dessert), Aaron takes your hand and ushers you into the car when you leave the lod. He doesn’t turn the way you expect. 

“Where are we going?” 

The dashboard casts a glow on his face. You can still spot a dimple in the dark. “You’ll see.” 

+++

Your disbelief only grows when you go deeper into the city and pull up to the Hay-Adams. The valet opens the door for you, while Aaron hands over the keys to his SUV. Once all the details are covered, you take his arm again and let him guide you into the lobby. 

It’s expansive. The Hay-Adams is, of course, one of the most historic buildings in the district and considered one of the best hotels on the East Coast by people who know of these things. 

Aaron confirms the reservation and gets the room cards before promptly finding the elevator and swiping in for the seventh floor. You look down, remembering your attire at the last minute. 

“Aaron, I don’t have my go bag.” 

He shakes his head, still looking forward. “Don’t need it.” 

You scoff. 

He doubles down. “Do you trust me?”

Stupid question. 

“Of course.” 

“Go with it. I’m trying to spoil you.” He turns and presses his lips to yours, taking your face in his hand. Against your mouth, he says, “Let me.” 

+++

The room is gorgeous - a one bedroom suite with a living room, balcony, and kitchenette, a huge couch dominates the center of the open living area, opposite an impressive television. Through the open door, you catch a glimpse of a king-sized bed. 

This must have cost a small fortune. 

As if reading your mind, Aaron takes your hand and tugs you forward. You land against his chest and he smiles at you. “Don’t think too hard. Come with me.” 

You follow him out to the balcony and the view takes your breath away. The White House, well-lit in the D.C. nighttime, sits right across the street. From here, you can see Lafayette Square - beyond it, almost the whole city. 

When you come back to yourself, you realize there’s an outdoor loveseat and a small table, holding champagne (on ice) and chocolate-covered fruit. 

Champagne, chocolate, fancy dinner… The whole nine. 

Spoiled indeed. 

Aaron sits, pulling you down beside him. He pours two glasses of champagne - mostly for show, and moves the bucket to the ground. The fruit goes off to the side table and his feet go up on the small table, crossing at the ankles. You curl up against him, tucking under his arm. 

“Do you like it? Too much?” 

You can hear the genuine insecurity behind his cheeky question. You press a kiss to the back of his hand. “I love it. It is too much, but it’s very thoughtful. You twist to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.” 

With that, the two of you settle in, quietly enjoying the company and the quiet. It’s cold, but with the outdoor heater, it’s comfortable enough that you don’t need your coat. 

“Okay.” 

Aaron sits up. “Yes?” 

“You asked, so it’s only fair. No work, no kids, no serial killers. How are you?” 

He pulls you over so you’re sitting across his lap. You rest your head on his shoulder, your hand smoothing over the soft fabric of his button-up before placing it over his heart. 

“I’m good,” he says. “I’m really good.” 

“Why?” You feel a little like a parrot, but you’re sure that’s what he’s going for. 

“I can’t...quite articulate how lucky I feel.” 

That’s relatable. 

“I’m happy to be here with you.” He shakes his head - a pensive gesture. “I never thought I could make it here again.” 

“Where?” You ask. 

“In love, happy, facing a future that doesn’t scare me. My son is happy, safe...I wasn’t sure I'd ever have any of that again after losing Haley.” 

He pauses and you can feel a little sardonic smile. You don’t have to see it to know it’s there. His next admission, though, surprises you. 

“I accepted that I would be a bystander in your life a long time ago. I accepted that I would likely remain a widower, a single father. I knew you’d be around and that I would be your friend, but I made peace with the idea that I’d never have you right here.” He squeezes you twice, in time with his words. It makes you smile. 

He shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. “I’m not sure it’ll ever sink in.” 

You feel much the same, but it's kind of at once alarming and amusing to hear him so beautifully articulate feelings that so closely resemble your own. 

You lean back to look at him. “I’m glad you were wrong.”

He places a gentle finger under your chin and kisses you, long and languid. It’s a promise. After a little while, he leans back, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek. 

“Me too.”

+++

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[viastro]

euphoria | yoon jeonghan

ミ★ synopsis: in which you fail to greet your best friend happy birthday right at the stroke of midnight.

ミ★ genre: best friends to lovers!au, slice of life, fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: none !

ミ★ word count: 3,324

ミ★ pairings: jeonghan x female reader

ミ★ notes: this is a bit late !! but i wrote this fluffy oneshot in honor of our angel’s birthday, yoon jeonghan! i hope you guys enjoy it <3

Jeonghan’s been your best friend from the moment the two of you entered high school and got paired up to introduce each other to your class. He was still losing the baby fat in his face, and you were both around the same height. It was just the two of you against the world at that time, you’re unsure of what you would do if Jeonghan wasn’t in your life. You blossomed earlier than Jeonghan, growing into your features and knowing what flatters you and what doesn’t.

Things changed once the two of you entered university. Jeonghan had a growth spurt, now a whole head taller than you. The baby fat in his cheeks now long gone, sharp cheekbones now replacing it. Sometimes you miss his bread cheeks, you used to just spend your time squishing his face to tease him. His fashion sense improved immensely as well, perhaps it’s because of the kdramas you forced him to watch with you. His long hair was also cut short and dyed a beautiful shade of lavender. It was blonde at first, but one night you told him that your favorite color was lavender. 

He showed up at your house a week later with lavender hair. 

That happened to be the week that you realized you were in love with him as well.

Jeonghan gained a lot of attention at your university, getting multiple confessions and handmade chocolates whenever it was Valentine’s day. You would walk across campus and see your lavender haired best friend surrounded by men and women attempting to get the pretty boy’s attention. 

You learned to steer clear of Jeonghan on Valentine’s day for the sake of you not losing an arm. He understood though, as he would later come to your dorm and the two of you would eat the chocolates together. One time in your guys’ second year of uni he asked you why you never made him chocolates on Valentine’s day. 

“When will you confess your love for me, mm?” Jeonghan asks you with a hint of a smirk on his face. You have come to realize that Jeonghan dying his hair black made him look more intimidating rather than soft. So the warmth rushing to your cheeks isn’t that surprising to you based on this discovery. However, you’re still silently cursing the Gods for making your best friend incredibly handsome. You decide to play along with Jeonghan, because two can play at this game. Leaning in closer to his face, his eyes widen slightly at the sudden close proximity, “Yn?”

You smile at the fact that you were able to make him flustered, popping one of the chocolates into your mouth before leaning back. The sweetness of the chocolate floods your taste buds, and you send a wink to a now flabbergasted Jeonghan. 

“I can’t cook, Jeonghan.” 

You and Jeonghan never thought that your duo would later become a group of fourteen people. However, you meet a lot of new people in college. So you and Jeonghan expanding your friend group in your second year of uni should not be this surprising, but it was. Considering the fact that you’re now surrounded by thirteen handsome men on campus. 

It’s more of a pain on Valentine’s day now. 

However, you strongly believe that Jeonghan’s birthday might be one of the worst days to spend on campus. With gift, after gift being thrown at him and almost everyone wanting his attention. It’s exhausting, which is why you typically avoid him on campus on his birthday as well.

Today is that cursed day.

“Happy birthday, Jeonghan!”

“Jeonghan I got you this sweater!” 

“Jeonghan!”

You glance up from your journal to see your recently dyed blonde haired best friend getting crowded around by everyone, and you squint at the sight. Turning away from the view, you attempt to try and continue drawing a photo of the fruit your art class was assigned to draw. You’re not even an art major, but you wanted to take the class for the sake of having a calming course among your STEM classes.

However, as you continue to try and draw the apple, you realize that art class isn’t as calming as you originally thought it would be. You set down your pencil and tilt your head at the fact that your apple looks more like a grotesque raccoon. “How the fuck-”

Mingyu walks down the stairs and into the square in plans of going to visit Jeonghan. Only to pause and grimace at the sight of Jeonghan trying to move past the crowd with Joshua at his side, and soon decides that he’d much rather greet his friend a happy birthday! later. 

Mingyu looks around until he finds you sitting at one of the tables in the square, and he lets out a chuckle at the disgusted look on your face. He walks up and settles down beside you, causing you to glance up and immediately let out a smile. 

“Mingyu!” 

“Yn! Have you greeted Jeonghan yet?” Mingyu asks, and you shake your head as you close your journal and place it back into your backpack. You turn your head and look over to see Jeonghan and Joshua finally escaping through the crowd and running out of the square, gifts in hand as they do so. 

“Where do we go?!” Joshua asks hurriedly as they sprint, and Jeonghan gasps for air before responding with, 

“Up your ass!”

“The FUCK!” 

You chuckle at the duo once they’re now out of sight, “Ah, they finally escaped.” 

“Can’t believe he gets that many gifts on his birthday from people he’s only spoken a word to.” Mingyu says with an amused smile on your face, and you lean back, squinting at the tall man. He turns and glances at you, eyes widening slightly at the expression on your face. “What?”

You reach out and bonk his head, and Mingyu lets out a whine, patting the area you hit him. He pouts at you, “Why did you hit me!?” 

“Cause you also get that many gifts on your birthday! Must I remind you that the thirteen of you are literal heart throbs on campus?” You exclaim, and Mingyu lets out a giggle. “Ah, right.” 

Rolling your eyes, you open your mouth to scold him some more, only to pause when your phone vibrates on the table. Turning your head you glance at the screen, seeing a text message from the man of the hour. 

jeongjeongie: you didn’t greet me today D:<

shiT THEY’RE GONNA GET M

“Ooo~ someone’s in trouble. You always greet him at midnight, what happened?” Mingyu asks, and you roll your eyes at the message. You turn off your phone before letting out a sigh, looking up at the blue sky. 

“I wanted to change it up this year. We’re going to hangout tonight anyways, he’s just being a big baby.” You mutter, a hint of a smile on your face when you turn back towards Mingyu. He chuckles, nodding his head in agreement with the last part of your sentence. He tilts his head at you after a moment, and you mimic the action. “Mm?”

Mingyu shrugs, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, “You finally gonna confess as a 22nd birthday present?” 

You sputter and immediately bonk Mingyu’s head again, resulting in a lot of whines and you having to pat his head in apology for hitting him too hard. You shoot him a glare after making sure he’s okay, and Mingyu squints back at you. 

“Based on your reaction, I think I was right.” Mingyu grumbles, and he watches as your eyes turn into slits. You pout and look away, muttering to yourself, “Was it that obvious?” 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, before Mingyu’s eyes widen and he gasps, turning back towards you. You glance at the latter, seeing him gaping at you. 

“What?”

“DEADASS?!” Mingyu asks loudly, and you raise a finger to your mouth, shushing him for being so loud. You’re sure that you must’ve gained the attention of some of Jeonghan’s admirers based on Mingyu’s volume. “Shut up!” 

“I was just joking! I knew that you loved him but I didn’t think you were ever going to confess!” Mingyu whisper-shouts and you cover your face with your hands. You peek at him through your fingers to see him still staring at you in shock, and before you know it, the blush takes over your features. 

“Were my feelings that obvious?” You ask, and Mingyu nods his head as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “Based on the fact that the two of you stare at each other as if you’re the only ones in the room, I’d say it’s obvious to us. Maybe not to you guys though.” 

You purse your lips, letting out a tired sigh at the fact that maybe, just maybe, Mingyu is right. He lets out a laugh at your defeated expression, reaching out and patting the top of your head fondly. 

“It’s cute, yn. Don’t worry. It’ll be better than any gift Jeonghan could’ve received from his admirers.”

“Can’t believe she didn’t greet me.” Jeonghan grumbles as he walks up to his apartment, putting in his password into the doorknob. It’s now 10 pm at night, and he’s just now getting back from his birthday dinner with his friends. His arms are tired from holding all the gifts he received, and he’s also petty at the fact that you haven’t greeted him.

 Once the door unlocks, he steps in and turns on the lights, only to get blasted in the face with confetti. 

“What the fu-”

“Happy birthday, Hannie!” You greet with a big smile on your face, and Jeonghan squints at you once all the confetti falls to the floor. You tilt your head to the side, and he reaches out, flicking your forehead before stepping past you. You let out a whine and follow after him, “Bitch! That hurt!” 

“My heart hurts, ya know? Cause my best friend in the whole wide world didn’t greet me with a happy birthday at midnight!” Jeonghan exclaims as he sets the numerous gifts onto the floor. You giggle as you follow after him, finding satisfaction in his reaction. He glares when he hears your giggle, putting up his overcoat onto a hanger and shoving it into the coat closet. He turns back towards you, finding that endearing smile on your face again. “You think my pain is funny?” 

“Let me show you what I prepared for your birthday.” You tell him, reaching your hand out towards the blonde. Jeonghan purses his lips, letting out a sigh in defeat when you pout at him. He intertwines his fingers with yours, and you grin excitedly, pulling him out towards his balcony. Jeonghan lets out a whine in protest, “Yn! It’s cold and I just took off my coat-”

You push the curtains away and open the sliding door, the rest of Jeonghan’s complaint dying in his throat once he sees what you’ve prepared. You’ve essentially created a pillow fort on his balcony, with a lantern  underneath the blanket and numerous pillows and snacks. You smile, gesturing towards your creation, “Tada!”

Jeonghan glances down at his feet, feeling a bit emotional at the fact that you prepared this for his birthday. He didn’t think that you remembered the time he sleepily told you that he misses when the two of you made pillow forts, but he should’ve known that you would.

“Look! I even brought my laptop so that we can watch movies like before too. Am I great, or am I great?” You ask excitedly, and Jeonghan finally smiles softly at you. You open your mouth to explain all the snacks you bought as well, only to get cut off when Jeonghan pulls you to him in a warm embrace, nuzzling his head into your hair. You close your eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist with a smile gracing your features. 

“Thank you, it almost makes up for you not greeting me first this year.” Jeonghan mutters after a moment, and you laugh, pushing him away as he giggles. You point towards the pillow fort, “Are we gonna go in and watch movies or what?” 

Jeonghan smiles, nodding his head and stepping out of his apartment and onto the balcony. He crawls into the makeshift fort, looking around at the materials you used to make the comforter stay in position. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of the fairy lights above him that are not turned on, and you grin. 

“Oh yeah, this is gonna be magical.” You tell Jeonghan, and he glances down at you right as you press the switch that turns on the lights. His breath gets caught in his throat when you turn and smile at him, the fairy lights casting a glow over your features that make you look absolutely ethereal. 

You begin to explain how much of a pain it was for you to set up the fort as you open up the snacks and turn on your laptop. However, Jeonghan is hardly listening due to the numerous thoughts running through his head. You take note of his silence after you ask what movie he wants to watch, and turn your head to see Jeonghan just staring at you as if he saw a ghost. 

You raise an eyebrow at the blonde, reaching out and waving your hand across his face. He finally blinks and you let out a laugh at the expression on your face, “Are you okay? You froze for a second, it was as if I was in a zoom call.” 

“Oh! Yeah, sorry. I just spaced out for a sec.” Jeonghan says as an excuse, and you nod your head, not questioning it. However, the hint of a smile graces your features at the fact that you caught him staring at you. You point to your laptop screen to change the subject, “What movie do you wanna watch, birthday boy?” 

Jeonghan purses his lips as he scrolls through the numerous options, before finally deciding on The Greatest Showman. You clap your hands, obviously pleased with the choice as you turn it on. Settling back into the pillows, you pull one of the blankets over both you and Jeonghan’s legs. You hand him the chips you bought, and the two of you eat quietly and make some commentary as you watch the movie. 

It’s halfway through when you begin to feel tired, having stayed up the night before unable to sleep due to the thought that Jeonghan could possibly reject your kiss. Jeonghan notices as you’ve become more quiet, and he turns his head to see you struggling to keep your eyes open. He smiles at this, reaching out and patting your head. 

“Yn.” Jeonghan begins causing you to wake up a bit. You turn your head to see the blonde staring at you, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks at how pretty he looks. With his blonde hair soft and curly, framing his face nicely. 

You’ve decided that blonde makes Jeonghan look like an angel, even though he’s anything but. 

“Why did you not greet me at midnight?” Jeonghan asks, and you smile sleepily at him. You reach out and pat his cheek, closing your eyes, “I just wanted to be the last one to greet you this year. Best for last, am I right?” 

Jeonghan stares at you in silence for a moment, before letting out a laugh. He shakes his head, realizing just how you that is. You let out a yawn, gesturing for him to lean over towards you. Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at the action, seeing that your eyes are still closed. “Mm?” 

You mutter quietly, “Come closer, I need to give you your gift before I fall asleep.” 

Jeonghan chuckles fondly when you open your eyes. He finds your sleepy expression to be incredibly endearing. He leans close towards you, ignoring the way heat is rushing to his cheeks at the close proximity between your faces. “Why did I need to come close to get my gift-”

You press your lips to his quickly before pulling away, blush prominent on your cheeks as you try and avoid looking at Jeonghan’s face. You turn away and close your eyes, cuddling the pillow close to your chest.

Jeonghan gawks at you, and he slowly raises a hand to his lips. He watches your shoulders rise and fall, and he internally screams at the fact that you just kissed him. You, his best friend, his person. The one who he dreamt of marrying. After a moment of going feral, he reaches out and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Yn, how long have you had feelings for me?”

You turn back over and see Jeonghan staring at you with a furious blush to his cheeks. He turns his head when he realizes the movie is still playing and presses the spacebar, promptly pausing the movie. He turns back towards you, noticing the bright blush to your cheeks that match his. 

“Since you dyed your hair lavender after I told you it was my favorite color.” You mutter, and Jeonghan bites the inside of his cheek. He attempts to fight back the smile, but it fails. Your heart slowly calms down when you realize that Jeonghan is smiling, and you take it as a good sign. 

“Do you like me?” You ask quietly, and Jeonghan shakes his head. He leans his face closer to yours, and your eyes widen significantly at the close proximity. “I love you. I thought you would’ve noticed when I dyed my hair lavender just for you.” 

You find yourself smiling back at Jeonghan, and he giggles happily. He shakes his head at you, heart warm at the events of his birthday. He opens his arms towards you, and you reach out and wrap your arms around his waist, sending the two of you backwards onto the snacks. You immediately scream when you hear the crunch of the chips and candies the two of you probably crushed, releasing your hold on Jeonghan and shoving him off the food. 

“God damn it.” You mumble in disappointment as you lift up a few snacks, noticing how depleted the bag seems now that they’re smushed. While Jeonghan just stares at you, obviously flabbergasted at how quickly you shoved him in order to protect the food. You pout, placing the crushed up food onto the blanket before turning to glance at the blonde, who is now squinting at you.

“... what?” 

“So basically,” Jeonghan begins as he sits back up, running a hand through his hair. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he lets out a breath before continuing. “You don’t greet me first, you avoid me on campus, and then after kissing me, you shove me off of you in order to protect the snacks.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, before you nod your head, reaching out to take a crushed up potato chip and place it into your mouth. You flash Jeonghan a cheeky smile, “Of course.” 

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and cracks his knuckles. You raise an eyebrow at him and he takes in a deep breath, “I guess I gotta do this then.” 

“Do wha-”

You don’t get the chance to finish your question before you’re tackled backwards onto the comforter. Jeonghan attacks your waist with his hands, causing you to laugh loudly underneath the makeshift pillow fort you spent an hour making. 

“I’m SORRY!” 

“Tell it to the JUDGE!” Jeonghan replies with a loud laugh, no malice in his words as the two of you giggle together. 

The sound of your guys’ laughs echoes out into the night, a faint reminder of the euphoria in the air on your angel, Yoon Jeonghan’s birthday. 

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

It’s my birthday can I request headcanons or something with Erwin Smith surprising you with a cake he made?

It's your birthday and you came to me??? Im so honoured!!!💛💛 happy birthday btw! The world is so lucky to have you in it, i hope you have an amazing day and a lovely year💛💛

And of course you can🥰 anything for the birthday royalty!

Erwin celebrates your birthday by baking a cake

{ Erwin x reader | tw: none | romance, the cheesy kind | modern }

{ “For Saint Dorothea's Day" 1899 by Herbert James Draper 1863–1920 }

Now, Erwin is a romantic person at heart, someone like him would get the nightsky stars if his loved one asked for them. So he waits in anticipation for any excuse to drown you in his love, and a birthday is a perfect occasion to go the whole nine yards. He'd be planning for that day weeks in advance.

He'd even take the day off, something he so rarely does since he rivals Levi in his workaholism.

But for you? He's absolutely smitten.

Breakfast in bed, no negotiation about it. He'd wake up really early and sneak out of bed to prepare to you whatever your heart desires, he'd cut you fresh fruit and pour you your favourite drink. He'd make you some chocolate treats to eat, making some of them heart shaped with a smile on his face.

If you let him, he'd feed them to you by hand. Maybe even giving you a kiss after each delicious bite.

You're going to be so pamper and treated like loyalty you wouldn't know how to go back to daily life after that day.

How do you feel about a warm bubble bath with scented water in the morning? Because he's carrying you there, no matter what size have you seen this greek god built man?

Gently massages your shoulders and sore muscles while in there, while whispering honey like compliments in your ear.

It's just the start of the day and he already has you wrapped around his finger.

As much as he'd like to hog you for the rest of the day, he wants you to go and enjoy yourself with the people you love.

Maybe it's your family, maybe it's your friends or maybe it's your pets. Doesn't matter because even if you're not sure who to spend it with, Hange, Miche and Nanaba will be more than happy to take you out.

Levi will actually tag along too, he just doesn't wanna admit to it.

They will spoil you, whatever you want, wherever you want to go. Miche knows the best restaurants around here, Hange knows the best views and Nanaba will take you to the underrated shops she's friends with the owners of.

And whatever you chose, Levi will follow. He is there to protect you and make sure no creeps even think about ruining this day for you and not just because of Erwin's request, he genuinely cares about you and respects you. He sees how much better you changed his dear friend's life and how much happiness you gave him, he thinks you're a good person.

If you want to thank him, ask Miche to take you to his favourite teashop. He won't show a smile but his eyebrows will soften when you arrive there.

Meanwhile, Erwin would be just finished decorating the house. He wanted to do every single thing himself so it'd feel even more personal. Not to mention he really enjoyed it, hanging the fairy lights and tying the heart shaped ballons.

It's when he's finished sorting the flowers around the dinner table that he heads to the kitchen.

Now Erwin whilst a romantic, he's still rational and knows just how far his abilities can stretch, baking is not one of his strong suits. And yet he still wants to make you a cake himself, for you to eat something he made on your birthday.

That's how he ends up with three boxes of cake mix, after that making the cake simply required putting the right amount of ingredients, which to him is as easy as...a piece of cake.

Thankfully he doesn't burn it in the oven, and it actually tastes decent enough. After that he follows some youtube tutorial on how to cut it and add fruits and other things inside, then comes the icing and cream.

He tries his best, yes the red cream melted a bit with the white icing smudging it, yes the heart he drew is a little crocked at the side, yes he added too much sprinkles. But he is proud of his hard work.

It's Levi who texts him after he puts the cake in the fridge, telling him they're heading home right now.

Perfect timing isn't it. Did Erwin really calculate how much time his friends can distract you and timed it perfectly with how much time it'd take him to decorate and bake a cake?

Or is it just pure luck? You'll never know.

He welcomes you with a kiss, despite Hange and Miche teasing him about it. It only spurs him to show you more affection.

You all sit in the living room, share some drinks while chatting. The atmosphere is calm and you get to hear a lot of embarrassing stories. Half-way through the talk, Moblit finally arrives to join the rest.

He apologises for being late, apparently he was in charge of keeping the gifts and wrapping them. He sets the bag aside and takes a wine glass from Hange before finishing it himself.

After some hours, Erwin and Nanaba go get the plates, they insist you sit since it's your birthday. Levi clears some space on the table for the cake while Moblit turns off the light after lighting all the candles.

Miche and Hange keep you compay, they keep telling you jokes and stories that your stomach hurts from laughing so much.

Under Erwin's order, everyone has to join in singing a happy birthday no matter how bad of a singer they are, yes Levi even you.

You blow the candles, they cut the cake, Erwin feeds you a piece of his with the fork.

At night time, after you've all eaten, drank some tea that Levi made after the cake, talked and laughed. One by one they excuse themselves to leave.

It's Moblit who has to go first, still needing to finish some paperwork. He also drags Hange with him and they say they still haven't told you the rest of Erwin's embarrassing stories.

After them it's Miche, having drank too much Nanaba has to drive him home safely. She wishes you a happy birthday one last time before somehow handling the taller man to the car outside.

Lastly it's Levi, he just finished washing the dishes you just ate in, what? They were bothering him. And no it's your birthday of course you're not washing any dishes.

Just when he was putting his coat on, he tells Erwin to lean down before whispering something in his ear. It earns him a chuckle before he says "I'm serious." Then leaves.

Looking at Erwin curiously, you don't have to ask what he said because he looks at you back before saying. "He told me not to fuck up this and lose you, otherwise he's coming for my neck."

So far, this is the sweetest compliment Levi has ever said to you in all the years you've been with Erwin. You can't help but feel touched.

That night, before going to bed, Erwin tells you there's still one last thing he hasn't done yet.

He tells you to close your eyes, you do. Then you hear some shuffling followed by a slightly cold thing being draped around your neck. Guiding you to a mirror, he only tells you to open them after wrapping his arms around you, head on your shoulder.

"Do you like it?" He whispers to you, looking at your eyes in the mirror as he kisses your skin. Fingers trailing up your waist slowly, till they reach the necklace around your neck.

[xmyshya]

Shoved it: chapter II - Ollie

summary: You don’t like skaters. They’re unruly, misbehaved and rude. But this one encounter just might change your view. genre: fluff warnings: tooth-rotting fluff (seriously, make a dentist appointment), slow burn, mutual pining betas: @vanille–kiss​ as always I’m eternally grateful to you, I love you lots a/n: Written for ANILYSIUM (former HQHQ) Server Collab with the prompt “Meet Ugly”. Check the event’s masterlist here! series navi: masterlist | previous | next wc: 1.5k

It’s a nightmare. Everything must be just a bad dream, and soon you’re going to wake up. No more invading your sleep. No more being watched and followed through the halls. No more running, no more hiding, no more irritation.

But here’s the thing - it’s reality. And the Prince Charming from your nightly illusions still has those half-lidded olive eyes; the same eyes that meet yours at school and observe your every move. He’s everywhere you go, behind every corner, on every floor. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was in your closet.

Obviously it’s an exaggeration. While it’s true that you notice him more often than not, he’s also much taller than other students. His little circle of friends consists of really handsome boys, causing a commotion and squealing of the girls surrounding them. But, much to your dismay, he notices you just as much.

@mikYou know people like him. You know boys like him. Misbehaved jerks, thinking the world revolves around them and rules are meant to be broken; convinced that one smile is enough to make any girl fall in love with them, only to break their heart. But you, you’re not a part of this world, you refuse to be, and you want nothing to do with him.

Unfortunately, the stalker (as you like to call him) not only dares to smile and wink at you, but tries to approach you. So far you’ve managed to avoid him, spotting his messy brown hair towering over swarming students. This time, however, you failed to notice until it was too late. Until he had you trapped between his arms, your back against the wall.

“What do you think you’re doing, punk?!” You spit in his face, earning a tsk from the boy.

“Do I look like a punk to you?”

You want to retort, you really do, but the intensity of his gaze makes you open and close your mouth, like a fish thrown out of the ocean.

“Suna.”

“What?”

“I figured you didn’t know my name. Suna Rintarou.”

“I didn’t ask.”

He doesn’t know why you seem to hate him so much and it drives him mad. At first, Suna only wanted to really apologise for the incident, his conscience still clawing at him. Somewhere along the way it shifted into something more mischievous; seeing you blush and making a run for it giving him a fair amount of entertainment.

Initially you manage to win this game of cat and mouse, your average height being your biggest ally in hiding in the crowd. It certainly doesn’t help that other students tend to concentrate around him, and you’re long gone before he even scrambles out of the group. But he never misses the heat blossoming on your cheeks when he sends a wink in your direction.

Today might be Rin’s lucky day though. Most of the other teenagers are already gone, the halls pleasantly quiet and empty. You’re walking in front of him alone, and he’s sure you aren’t aware of the boy behind you.

He’s never been so grateful for his silent footsteps, or maybe you’re just too spaced out, because he sneaks up on you and pins you to the wall. Once more you look up at him with those big shiny eyes that make his stomach feel tingly, and maybe this time you’ll let him get closer…

Again, all he’s offered is baseless hostility, even in exchange for his name. You’re slipping through his fingers, at one moment being trapped between his arms, between his body and the wall, and in the next walking away. Not bothering to introduce yourself. Not sparing him even a glance.

***

Suna has another problem and this one is more urgent - he’s failing a class. In a sense, it’s his own fault for being late or even completely missing it. In his defense, it was in the morning, it was boring and unnecessary in his life, and he had so much other stuff to do. He can’t let it hold him back, not when he’s so close to being free.

The teacher was kind enough to give him a piece of paper containing the name and available hours of his potential saviour. Such a drag, he thinks but still walks towards the classroom where his tutor should be. Two knocks on the doorframe, but the girl inside is still turned back.

“Excuse me, I’m here for tutoring?”

His heart is hammering in his chest when the person turns towards him and it’s… you.

The weather is nice, it’s not hot despite the sun shining brightly, the cloudless sky has the most beautiful shade of blue. Gentle breeze rustles the leaves, birds chirp a song only they know. You can only admire it all from the window, having agreed to rescuing those in educational need.

You don’t mind, not really, as long as they put in some effort. There are some who just come and demand, those who don’t listen and claim to not understand anything later. You hope your next case won’t be one of these.

A deep voice brings you back to reality, a voice so familiar that it gives you goosebumps. You turn to look at your new student and for a second you think that if a headache had a human form, it would be him.

***

“Why do you hate me so much?”

The boy in front of you still stares at the problem at hand, spinning a pen between his fingers. You sigh.

“This is not a subject of our meetings.”

Now his olive eyes are focused on you, awaiting an answer he isn’t going to receive. You have no intention of entertaining this attempt at whatever it is.

“I’m not as bad as you think.”

“Why do you even care what I think?”

Rin only shrugs.

“Okay, could you please help me with this? I’m stuck.”

***

Contrary to your idea, Suna isn’t a hopeless case. He understands things quickly, without the need of repeating the same explanations over and over again. What bothers you is the amount of material you have to go through, because of his absences. With test retakes approaching quickly, you meet for sessions twice a week.

There isn’t much off-topic chatter, the scribbling of pen on paper being the only sound filling the room in between his questions. It’s comfortable and effective, and soon you feel at ease in his company.

In the third week of project “Ace the test”, as you jokingly call it, Rintarou greets you with a range of differently flavoured jelly sticks.

“You can take all of them, or just the ones you like.” He explains seeing your confusion.

“Why?”

“Because you’re staying after hours for me, and I don’t know how to repay you.”

You blush as you mumble “simple thank you would have been enough”, but in the end reach for three that taste like your favourite fruits. Suna smiles and commits your choice to his memory.

After that the boy makes sure to bring something in one of those flavours to your meetings - yoghurts, juices, chocolate bars with fillings, everything he could find. It would be a lie if you said you didn’t appreciate the gesture; it was sweet of him to bring you something as a compensation for your time and efforts.

It’s even cuter when on one particularly rough day after seeing your stressed frown, he dumps a whole bag on the desk. Upon opening you discover that it’s filled with your best-loved snacks; he must have been observing you closely and the realisation turns your cheeks into little furnaces.

There’s no way you can keep ignoring him now, and starting with the next day, you greet him with a small smile and a blush when you pass each other in the halls.

Rin is surprised at how easily the solutions come to his head after your little lectures. You have a way with words, your directions are simple and engaging, and he’s sure he wouldn’t have missed a single class if you were the teacher. He wonders if this is your plan for the future.

One of the discoveries he makes, partially by accident, is that you like silence; at least with a task like this at hand. Suna isn’t talkative which makes it easier, and the more he focuses on modules, the less tense you seem to be. Bingo.

Social interactions are usually tiring and Rintarou doesn’t bother with exhausting things. He prefers observing from the sidelines, watching the gestures and reactions they cause. Food, the boy realises, brings the most smiles. But since he doesn’t know your preferences at all, he’s going to start with what he’s familiar with.

Success has many faces. In this case, success has your blushing face as you grab jelly sticks he brought for you. Suna makes sure to remember which one you chose, and to always have something in one of those flavours. If this is how he wins you over, he doesn’t mind spending his precious energy. Especially not when you warm up enough to stop running away.

taglist: @kageyamas-love @mikasbloodbag

[platypanthewriter]

Road Trip

Maybe call this your royalty/road trip prompt, @awickedplacethisis​, it’s much shorter!  Harringrove April prompt day 14, Road Trip

Once upon a time, in Westfield Indiana—not far from Indianapolis—there was a very, very large mansion, almost a castle, where there lived a family named Harrington.

There were servants inside the mansion, and servants outside the mansion; caddies to attend the golf course, and six crews of gardeners: two for around the reflecting pools, the rest for the grounds, and a tree surgeon on retainer.  There were specialists for the indoor tennis courts, and the outdoor tennis courts, the outdoor swimming pool, and the indoor swimming pool.

And over the garage there lived a chauffeur by the name of Hargrove, imported from England years ago—together with a Rolls Royce—and a son, named William, or Billy.

 It was a different world, for Billy Hargrove, watching the Harringtons through the bushes, or getting out of his father’s car—little Stevie Harrington wore suits, and rode horses, and sometimes, when his parents were on holiday, little Stevie Harrington would invite Billy to play.  

Steve was a general, in these games, or sometimes the president, and Billy was, as ever, whatever was required, whether that was a dragon, or a magic steed, or a princess.  When Steve’s parents came back from wherever they were, Billy saw him only from the garage windows, again.

The Harrington parties were otherworldly, for Billy, watching from the apartment over the garage.  Billy folded his arms over the railing, watching the orchestra, and the fireworks—and sometimes Steve would climb his tree afterwards, with stories.  

“I brought you something,” he would say, leaning to sit a folded linen napkin on Billy’s windowsill, containing three chocolates, or sometimes, “—they’re too busy to give me a kiss goodnight, Billy, so I came to you.”

He fell out of the tree, once, and Billy yelled, and then Steve was forbidden from climbing trees, and forbidden from waking the staff in the dead of night.  He tried to climb it, still, with his cast, until Billy hid with the window closed.  Steve called softly, and then more softly still, as Billy plugged his ears under the window, until finally he went away.

 Steve ignored him, after that, until Billy made a paper airplane, stood on the edge of his railing out of sight of the car pulling in, and threw it when their fathers looked away.  Steve saw it fly into the hedge, snatched it, and stuck it in his jacket, but he didn’t look over.  Billy didn’t hear anything until Steve ran into the garage two days later, looking around wild-eyed, and waved to him, then hauled him into the hedge around the side.

His cast looked grubby—probably from climbing trees—and the hand not in a cast clutched tightly at Billy’s wrist.  “Why wouldn’t you open the window,” he muttered, huffily.

“You might fall again!” Billy whisper-yelled back at him, but it was too good to see Steve to stay mad at him, so he hugged him as hard as he could, cast and all.  

“I’d rather fall than not see you,” Steve said, and Billy swallowed, squeezing him tighter.

“I—I’ll sneak out.  We could meet in your garden,” Billy said, meaning the grounds, and Steve shook his head.  

“They’ll send you away.  They caught my mother’s maid by the pool, at night, and they sent her away.”  He thought.  “I’ll write you letters,” he said, pulling away to stare into Billy’s eyes, and squeeze Billy’s hands, even though they were covered in oil.  “I’ll leave them under the driver’s seat.  You’ll have to be fast.”

“I’ll find them,” Billy told him, nodding, and that whole summer he found pictures of their games, and stories, and once, a picture of Billy himself, and Steve, holding hands.

 That was before Steve was sent away to school.  He was different, after—they were both older, but his eyes didn’t look for Billy, and he invited different people to the pool, his friends in their tailored suits, with no oil stains.  Friends who would not be sent away.

Steve would come around while Billy was fixing cars, though, and brush his hand around Billy’s waist as he bent over an engine, or slide the trolley out to pull Billy from under the Rolls Royce as Billy changed the oil, and feed him sweet and unusual fruit.  Billy stared up at Steve Harrington’s smile as he tried mango for the first time, licking it from Harrington’s fingers as he laughed, and then star fruit, and papaya.

 Billy still watched the parties—Steve’s parents’ parties—from a tree, swinging his legs as Steve laughed, and flirted, and occasionally came over and leaned back against the tree, holding a glass of champagne up where Billy could reach down and take it.  

Once, when Steve’s dance partner wandered over, he kissed her, whispering and laughing.  Billy clenched his fingers against the tree’s branches for long minutes until they’d wandered away, and then he swung down.  He went to bed early that night.  His pillow was nearly enough to block out the music, and even the fireworks, until he heard the sound of a knock at his window.  

He opened it on Steve in his suit, and Steve crawled in, right inside Billy’s room, with his creaky old floors, stained curtains, and the picture Steve had drawn of them holding hands, before he’d been sent away to school.  

Steve stepped forward and kissed him the way he hadn’t done since they were children.  Billy stared at him, half sure he was asleep, shivering a little with the open window in only his wifebeater and shorts.  Steve’s hands were warm around his biceps.  

“Wish I could dance with you,” he whispered, then brushed a kiss against Billy’s mouth again, and Billy inhaled in a quick jerk of his lungs.  Steve leaned in again, and the floor creaked, and Billy pushed him back towards the window.  

“Ssshhh,” he whispered, his fingers sinking into the silk of Steve’s cuffs, and the warm folds where his shirt was tucked into his trousers, under his jacket.  “Sshhh…” he muttered again, letting Steve tilt his head, and kiss him softly, his mouth a little open so Billy couldn’t help chasing the warmth.  

“You really want me to go?” Steve asked, laughing against his lips, and Billy snorted softly.

“Of course I don’t,” he whispered back.  

 The next dance, Steve came and leaned against the tree, held up some champagne, and said, “Meet me at the indoor tennis court.”

“...I’ll get fired,” Billy whispered, laughing, and Steve was quiet for a long moment.

“...I’ll understand if you don’t come,” he said softly, tipping back the champagne, “—but I’ll wait until the orchestra stops.”

Billy thought about what his father would do, already, if he was caught in the tree—what Steve’s mother would do if the chauffeur-in-training startled party guests, wandering around in work clothes—but he set his jaw.  When everyone gathered around to hear Steve’s father speak on the podium in front of the fountains, Billy snuck off along the hedge—inside the hedge, within view of the house, his heart pounding—and then lingered outside of the tennis courts.  

 Steve arrived a few minutes later with a whole bottle of champagne, and slid his fingers through Billy’s, tugging him inside.  “Why didn’t you go inside?” he asked, bending to sit the bottle down, and then sliding his hands around Billy’s waist.

“...I don’t know,” Billy laughed, who’d only ever been allowed near the courts to clean, or pick up balls.  “Want to show me around?”

“This is where I play tennis, to keep me occupied, when I’m missing you,” Steve told him.  “This is the wall that makes it so I can’t see your house…” he whispered, and Billy laughed, and slid his arms around Steve’s neck, holding him close.  After a few minutes of just...molding against each other, sighing with relief, Steve’s head jerked up, his smile widening in the soft reflected light from the party.  “Here,” he whispered, “—this is the song I had to dance with somebody else, when you were right there, in the tree.”

Billy laughed again, shaking his head in disbelief.  Steve grabbed his hand, lifting it like a dance, and slid the other around his waist, kicking at Billy’s feet to get them to move.  “I don’t know how,” Billy told him, squinting down at his feet, and Steve kissed him again, missing his mouth, laughing, and leaning to try again.  

“I’ll show you,” he whispered, counting.  After a while Billy realized Steve leading meant he wouldn’t get to spin him around, so he spun Steve anyway, and Steve staggered, yanking him along.

 “...he’ll notice you’re gone,” Steve said, finally, as they lay next to each other, panting in their backs, passing the champagne back and forth for swigs.  “I’ve kept you too late.”

“I stayed,” Billy told him, leaning over for another soft kiss, and then another, because Steve Harrington was his, at least for a few hours.

 The next day, Steve came out while Billy was washing the cars, and leaned against the wall in his tailored suit.  He had a weird-looking fruit—dark red, and not very...plump looking, and he carved at it with a penknife as Billy worked.  The purple juice stained his fingers.  

“You know the story of Hades and Persephone,” Steve said, idly, and Billy thought about it, wiping sweat off his face.  

“...he stole her, didn’t he?” Billy asked.  It had sounded scary, as a child, reading from the huge illustrated book in the Harrington’s massive echoing library, but he thought, now, maybe he understood.  “So they could be together.  And her parents rained destruction on them.”

Steve grimaced.  “...this is a pomegranate.”

“Oh,” Billy said, intrigued.  He rinsed his hands and head off, pushing his hair back to see Steve open-mouthed.  

“Come here,” Steve whispered, and Billy came over, and they risked just one kiss, in the middle of the garage, with their fathers both away at work.  Billy could barely make himself let go, but he backed away, after, and leaned against a car.  “...I thought I’d bring you some seeds,” Steve said, softly.  “So you’ll stay with me.”

Billy dug his fingers into his own crossed arms, laughing.  “Sure,” but then, when Steve held out the six tiny, bright, faceted seeds, he swallowed.  “...six doesn’t seem like enough, now I see how many there are.  Give me half.”

Steve grinned, glancing up at him with a wry smile.  “That’s fair,” he said, nodding, and they counted them out on two plates.  Steve held the odd one up to Billy’s mouth, and he leaned in and ate it, his tongue brushing Steve’s fingers.  He helped Steve wash the juice off, after, sliding their fingers together.

 When Steve began to work at his father’s company, Billy became his chauffeur.  He waited for Steve Harrington every morning, and every evening, and Steve sat in the back, watching him in the rearview mirror.  

When Steve bought a car, he took Billy along, and on the way home, he asked him to pull off of the road, into a field.  The stars were bright, and his kisses were warm, and Billy helped him lay out a blanket.  

Billy wondered, as he fumbled with their belts, clumsy with kissing, whether it would ever happen again.

It didn’t.  

 Steve wanted ice cream, occasionally, or dinner, and asked Billy to join him, but he worked very early and very late.  He still sometimes pressed a quick kiss to Billy’s lips—if no one was looking, if he wasn’t running late—but there were no lingering touches, except one time.

The girl Steve had kissed under Billy’s tree was the daughter of another CEO, and their engagement was announced on the local radio.  Steve stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched, and then told Billy to use the back elevator, and come up to his office, right away.  When Billy got there, Steve locked the doors, and pulled Billy along to the bed behind the kitchenette.  He didn’t say anything, he just slid his hands up under Billy’s shirt, and followed them with his mouth, kissing softly up Billy’s stomach to his chest, and then across his collarbones, as Billy wriggled out of his clothes.  

They didn’t unlock the door all day, no matter whose voice came through.

 Three weeks later, when Billy climbed in the car and suggested Steve’s favorite cafe, and then the office, Steve said no.  He sat looking out the window, his eyes far away.  

Billy waited silently, full of dread.  “...Mr. Harrington?” he asked, finally, and then, because his voice gave out, he cleared his throat.  “...do you have...something to tell me?”

“No,” Steve said, smiling—sadly, Billy thought, and he clenched his hands on the wheel.  “...I think I just want to drive.  South.”

“...yeah, okay,” Billy said automatically, and then, as was ingrained, “—sir.”  Steve snorted a laugh.

As they passed through Carmel and then Indianapolis, Steve slowly relaxed, finally asking Billy to stop for breakfast when he was already an hour late for work.  It wasn’t Billy’s place to ask, and he hardly wanted to remind Steve they were not where they were supposed to be, but something must have come across in his eyes as he chewed his bacon and watched Steve, because Steve’s smile went tense again.

“It’s all handled,” he said, sipping his coffee.  “I think we can take a little road trip, don’t you?”

“For how long?” Billy asked, his fork freezing in midair, imagining just—spending time with Steve, walking, maybe.  Going to a movie theater, he thought, huffing a laugh.  He wondered whether Steve Harrington had ever been in a movie theater.

“I’m not sure,” Steve said, glancing up at him with an impenetrable expression, and Billy’s heart hurt, a little, because Steve Harrington had never been a difficult person to read.  

 After breakfast, Steve slid into the seat next to him, instead of the back, and rested his hand on Billy’s as he shifted gears.  Billy could hardly keep his eyes off it.

“How long is this road trip,” he asked, keeping his voice even, and Steve laughed, grimacing.

“Depends on you,” he said.

I ate half of the pomegranate, Billy wanted to say.

 Steve directed Billy into the garage next to a tall, narrow blue house with a long, wide porch and white trim, and Billy’s heart started to pound.  “...is anyone else staying here?” he asked, cautiously, as Steve unlocked the door, and he shook his head, watching Billy’s face.  They wandered into a fine living room, Billy thought, though sparsely furnished.  As they wandered through the kitchen and upstairs, Billy pushed open a door on a room with a small, plain bed, and his things.  His shoes, his trunk, no longer in the little apartment he shared with his dad.  

No longer overlooking Harrington House.  

“My friend Buckley has a house near here,” Steve said.  “She told me this one was coming up for sale,” he said slowly, glancing at Billy.  “...I could afford it.”

Billy was...happy, he thought, probably.  “You’re...leaving me here?” he asked, his eyes stinging, and fixed on the plain little room.  “You—you’ll visit.  Sometimes.”

“I’m—no,” Steve said sharply, grabbing his arm, and Billy yanked away to sit on the squeaky mattress.

“You want me gone before the marriage, then,” he whispered.  “I get...a few days? A day,” he bargained, glancing up at Steve, and setting his jaw.  He wanted to swear at Steve, for—for being everything he wanted, he guessed.  And everything he couldn’t have.

“No, no, I’ve broken off the engagement,” Steve said, grabbing Billy’s hands,  “—and I’ve quit.  I have a new job, Billy.”

“What,” Billy asked him, hoarsely.  

“I’m disowned,” Steve said, laughing, his voice unsteady.  “I’ve convinced my father I’m too difficult to reason with.  I’m out of the will.  I will live here.  I bought the house with my money, from Mother.”

“Here,” Billy breathed, staring around again, and then at Steve’s face.

“I hoped you would like it here,” Steve told him.  “I wanted to show you, so you could—road trip here.  Come down on weekends, maybe—”

“You packed my things,” Billy reminded him.  “Is this a little road trip, or—”

“This could be home,” Steve told him, smiling tensely.  “Come see our room.”

“...our room,” Billy laughed, disbelievingly, as Steve drew him down the hall, and into a wide, high-ceilinged room with a massive bed.  

“Our room,” Steve repeated, smiling against Billy’s lips, as Billy took shaky, bewildered breaths.  “Who would question a single gentleman having a gentleman?”

The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done

[sserpente]

Pastel Blue (Chapter 6)

A/N: I hate how I have barely had any time to write lately! In all honesty, moving to a different country is quite  the challenge! 😂 I hope you enjoy the new chapter, I can’t wait to dive back into writing excessively, haha! ♥

Jess breathed out, watching how the warm air turned into fog. It was way too chilly down here. She had asked Mobius to install some radiators months ago but he wouldn’t listen. Loki on the other hand seemed to have no problem with the cold at all. He strutted next to her like he owned the place, with his head held high and a dark expression on his face.

M had a point. Despite the collar, it was a risk bringing Loki to a party of all things. But then again… she would be sure to laugh if he jumbled up the celebrations. Dave deserved it, kind of. Frankly, he could be a dick sometimes.

Loki smirked to himself. Her dress was green, with thin shoulder straps and a heart-shaped neckline. He offered her his arm when they stepped into the cafeteria, bathing in the mistrustful looks the whole of TVA eyed them with.

Mobius was stood at the buffet table, holding a glass filled with vodka and a green olive swimming in it in one hand while the other was buried in his pocket. The tawdry music, the chatting and the constant clattering of plates and cutlery made it nearly impossible for him to make out what the senior manager was saying now.

Warily, Loki glared him down. He was either oblivious to his excellent hearing, stupid enough to discuss such clandestine matters in the hallway or… or he meant for him to eavesdrop. Loki held on to the thought. He trusted him to feed him pathetic bits and pieces of information to keep him on his toes, to throw him small bones like a starved dog.

What if he was cleverer than he assumed he was? If he had incited Jess to spend time with him, make him believe she was on his side when she secretly ran off every day to tell Mobius about his behaviour like a child in day-care? If he used her to keep him on a leash in this godforsaken place? Loki gnashed his teeth.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” He mocked when he spotted him. The Trickster narrowed his eyes at him. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Jess rolling hers. Either way, he would not allow them to manipulate him and instead turn the tables. He was the master of mischief, after all.

“Enjoy yourself while you still can, Loki.” Dave added. “There’s a high chance you’ll kick the bucket next week.”

Jess rolled her eyes once more—or perhaps she was still rolling them, Loki was unsure. His eyes darted over to Mobius again, noticing with both dismay and an odd feeling of satisfaction making itself comfortable in his guts how the senior manager studied their interlinked arms.

A thin smile formed on his lips. Oh yes. Whatever your play is, I will turn it against you and I will burn this entire place to the ground until all you have left is a pile of ash and Jess—lovely and delicate Jess—will help me do so whether she is willing or not.

“Suck it up, Dave.” Jess barked. “Do you drink coke?” She continued sweetly then, directed at Loki.

“I beg your pardon?” He leaned forward slightly—close enough for her nostrils to be filled with his scent like she was some goddamn predator sensing its prey. If anything, Loki would be the predator in this scenario. She was but a lamb compared to him—a lamb who could kick his shin but a lamb nonetheless.

“Coke. Black fizzy drink, very sweet, spiked with Whiskey—not normally but definitely tonight.” She cleared her throat and winked at him and, much to his own surprise, his heart skipped a beat upon the flirty gesture. Perhaps this was the very reason he let her grab his arm and drag him away from both Mobius and Dave to plunder the bar.

“Don’t let her get drunk!” He heard Mobius call after him. Loki frowned.

Whoever was playing bartender tonight and doing a terribly slow job with that, Jess paid them no attention. Unceremoniously, she leaned over the counter, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of Whiskey. Granted, Loki knew nothing of Midgardian drinks and how there were properly mixed, he had a feeling, however, that more than half of the glass filled with Whiskey was not the proper way to mix a delightful alcoholic refreshment.

At least, so he had to admit, the view was a rather delectable one, with her backside wiggling around right before his eyes. He suppressed a dark chuckle.

Once she had tapped the faucet pouring a dark brown liquid to mix with the Whiskey and handed him one, she grinned, heaving herself up onto the counter completely and resting her feet on the barstool.

“Skål!” She announced, winking once more. Loki took a sip to conceal how thickly he had to swallow. As expected, the coke-Whiskey-mixture tasted horrible. His face distorted, making Jess laugh.

“There’s no Asgardian ale in this place, I’m afraid. Do you dance? You’re the God of Mischief, you must be dancing.”

Loki raised his eyebrows in response. “Is that all you will do at this so-called party? Drink and dance and then drink some more?”

Jess shrugged. “Never let anyone tell you that alcohol is not the solution. I’ve had some amazing nights forgetting my own name. So?” She downed her drink, slamming the empty glass on the counter so forcefully he feared it would break under the impact. “Do you dance?”

The music, whatever it was, was too slow for Jess’ taste. She’d much rather listen to some techno hits, and some Hip Hop and Dubstep hits to move her body to. It almost felt a little like space. A place to lose herself in, utterly and wholly, a place making her stronger rather than taking her energy away from her.

But Dave had always had a very uninspiring music taste and, given it was his anniversary, the music was unlikely to change anytime soon. Loki’s lips parted when she took his glass from his hand and downed it too. Neither of them expected the jolt of electricity rippling through them when she took his hand and entangled her fingers with his to pull him towards the middle of the cafeteria where Minutemen of all departments, scientists and even some of the security were moving to the music.

“That’s an interesting development after all, don’t you think?” Loki heard Dave say. Jess swirled them both around, her blue eyes closed in an attempt to dream herself into a reality where she could go out with her friends and lose her mind in a dimly lit nightclub surrounded and desired by both men and women alike. She would drink until she had forgotten about her parents and until she had lost her grasp on reality to enter space and be free and independent. Jess did not allow herself to dream often these days, for when she did… the urge to escape this place once more and turn her back on Mobius rose to an extent it brought her physical pain to resist.

“Well, he is charismatic. That doesn’t mean anything, does it? Jess has a weakness for bad boys and Loki is pretty much the definition of that.”

“Please. Thor’s little brother, how strong could he possibly be without his beloved sceptre?” Dave snorted.

“I wouldn’t underestimate him, especially not this variant. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t think he’d be of use. He’s smart. He doesn’t trust us.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mobius shrug. “We have a good reason not to trust him either. Not yet, at least. I’ve studied his entire life, remember?”

“You are not seriously thinking about removing that collar at some point, are you?”

Loki growled, lest he could not decide whether it was because of how good his palm felt against the small of Jess’ back or the way Dave and Mobius kept talking about him behind his back.

“Now I thought you said he couldn’t possibly be that strong without the sceptre?” Dave replied nothing to that. He did not need to. Mobius had made it clear enough that he was the figure of authority here. There was no way, however, he was going to be able to concentrate on this devilish bureaucrat and his ridiculous attempts to manipulate him as long as Jess’ body was rubbing against his in the most wicked ways. This woman, human or not, knew exactly what she was doing, regardless of the alcohol already clouding her system.

He smirked when another song ended and there was a moment of silence in his heart upon the lack of a loud bass reverberating in his chest. Jess opened her eyes in an almost luscious manner and took his hand once more to pour herself another drink.

He liked the way she took charge. Apart from Sif, she was so unlike all the Asgardian women he had known during his time in the realm he grew up in. Jess was neither offering him her devotion nor was she withholding her affection. His heart jumped upon remembering how she had hugged him in the bathroom. Peculiar.

While she emptied another repulsive coke-and-whiskey-mixture, his eyes caught another buffet table positioned at the other end of the room—one he had not seen upon first entering this absurd get-together.

“What is this?” Jess spun around.

“What is what?”

“This.” He pointed at the table. The cooks had outdone themselves with the number of bowls full of fruit neatly chopped up—the highlight, however, was the massive chocolate fountain bubbling away peacefully and luring every passer-by into tasting it.

“Have you never seen a chocolate fountain before?”

Loki frowned, making Jess chuckle. Heavens, if he keeps doing that, his face might stay like that, she thought.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” Once within reach of the buffet table, she treated herself to a strawberry that she stabbed with one of the provided plastic toothpicks and coated it with chocolate. She grinned when Loki’s smirk returned and copied her with the sole difference of picking a grape instead.

“How does this thing operate?”

“Well, I’m not an engineer but as far as I’m concerned, you pour molten chocolate into the fountain, which is electric, and the pump inside will make sure to keep it flowing. Apparently, Asgard is not as advanced as I thought it was. Chocolate fountains are extremely important for one’s emotional wellbeing, you know.” Jess downed the Whiskey glass she had taken with her. “And so is alcohol. Are you gonna stay here all evening now?”

“I just might.” Loki winked.

“Suit yourself.” She announced, holding up her empty glass. “I’m getting another drink.”

The God of Mischief rolled his eyes and snatched her upper arm, holding it tightly enough for to gasp—and not in a terrified or intimidated way, so he noticed. But either way, he was not going to let her poison herself.

“You’ve had enough, don’t you think?” He snarled, snatching the glass from her.

“Excuse me? Give that back.”

“No. I said you’ve had enough.”

“I’m supposed to supervise you, not the other way around! Now give that back.”

Loki scoffed. “You’ll do a marvellous job with that, all drunk and out of your mind.”

Heavens, not again. Jess gasped for air—a desperate sound swallowed by the loud music and the bass vibrating in her chest. Loki caught it nonetheless. There it was, this figurative magnet, this invisible rope tying him to her like a bloody lap dog.

It was genuine concern purling in his stomach, he did know this much. Regardless of Mobius’ half-hearted request, Loki certainly did not want Jess to get drunk and damage her liver beyond repair. Mortals were fragile as was and yet here they were, stuffing themselves with ridiculous amounts of sugar and fat, spending all day watching silly TV shows and pouring alcohol down their throats like it was water from Mimir’s fountain itself.

“I dare you…” He murmured, his composure on the edge of a steep cliff threatening to overwhelm him, rip all control from him. Jess leaned back some more, a feeble attempt to escape his advances that she did not wish to refuse altogether. “I dare you.” He repeated, jumping in at the deep end if anything to quench the curiosity and feel what his body and, for Heaven’s sake, even his mind had been longing for. What had he to lose? “Kiss me. I know you have been thinking about it.”

He pulled her close again and this time, he was certain to have heard a whimper. Loki’s cock stirred, even more so when she turned her head away and his nose brushed against her cheek.

“Is it Mobius?” He purred. Jess struggled to form a proper sentence in response or even breathe evenly. Eventually, she nodded. “I believe… I believe we have both had enough of this party, have we not?”

Jess bit her lower lip and glanced behind herself. M was engrossed in a conversation with Ravonna Renslayer, the badass time judge she never interacted with much. Well… she certainly was none of her concern now.

“Quick,” she breathed out, “before they notice us leaving.”

 ~*~

You are a grown woman. Loki is a handsome man. It’s obvious the chemistry between you is right. You’re sexually attracted to him and he just confirmed that the feeling is mutual. This is not your first one-night stand. It might not be your last. God, I hope it’s not my last. That man is literally not from this world.

“What are you doing?” Jess snapped herself out of her thoughts when Loki stopped in front of one of the control rooms. The walls were made entirely of glass, revealing a bored security officer staring at about a dozen computer screens in utter darkness. “He’ll see us!”

Loki narrowed his eyes and huffed when he found what he was looking for—the camera monitoring Jess’ unit. Ah… this was indeed perfect. Just like he had suspected. He could see the sofa and the unmade sheets on top of it, and the coffee table with countless peanut bags on it. But even without his powers, nobody would see him sneak along the wall and into Jess’ bedroom.

“Loki?”

“There is a dead angle in your unit.”

“So?” He winked again, making her lower regions clench. When he simply kept on walking, she rushed after him like a cat knowing it was about to be fed.

~*~

A/N: Muhahaha. In case anyone is interested what song Loki and Jess danced to, you can find it right here!

[admiringlove]

romeo and juliet

+pairing: oikawa tōru x reader.

+genre: fluff.

+word count: 1.3k.

+warnings: none.

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @iwaizoom​ @velvetfireworks​ @seijohlogy​

+author’s notes: i was having a little breakdown about this idea of mine, i hope you like it lmao!!

What is love?

You never paid attention to that word, but when it was brought up in class—because you were studying Advanced English, and today was the class-discussion of Romeo and Juliet—your class teacher called on you. 

"[L/N]! You haven't spoken yet. Give us your opinion on love, and let's see if we can start a discussion or a debate," she said, causing you to stand up. You raised an eyebrow at the question. Cocking your head with pursed lips, you asked, "Would you like me to state a personal opinion or something related to the text, ma'am?"

"Your opinion, please."

"Well, for starters, I guess love only brings pain into your life. You'll suffer one way or another. Whether it be the differences between you and your partner or some tragic event that leads to breaking up or divorce. In everything you love, you leave a piece of yourself behind, which only ends up hurting you if things go south," you nodded as you finished your sentence. The whole class was looking at you with mixed expressions. Your teacher was amused by your answer, some girls looked at you with horrified expressions or disgusted ones, and the boys of the class were either thinking closely or laughing.

"And why do you feel that way?" your teacher asked, drawing a line down the middle of the white-board. You chewed on your lip as your brows pulled together and shrugged nonchalantly, "No reason." 

"I disagree with [L/N]-san," a hand shot up from two seats ahead of you. You scoffed, as the bed-head stood up and smiled flamboyantly, "I think love is sweet—like my favorite food, milk bread. And [L/N]-san showed us the imperfections of love, which in my opinion, makes love even better. You know, the imperfections are a sign that it's humane. Without love, life would be like a dead cherry tree. No fruits to taste or savor, no blossoms to sit under and have a picnic, and no hope."

"Looks like we have a debate," your teacher smiled, "Who supports [L/N]'s viewpoint?"

No one raised their hand. You chuckled as you looked out the window. The class was almost over anyway, and you'd head home to the same loud arguments and beatings. You sighed as the teacher said, "Looks like everyone supports Oikawa's point of view."

"Let's turn this into a debate, everybody. Now, Oikawa, start the dispute."

The chocolate-eyed boy gazes at you curiously as the two of you walk up to the front, standing on different sides of the board. He starts, "I think it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I mean, you can learn to not repeat the same mistakes again."

You coughed as you said, "That could be a load of bullshit."

A couple of the boys snickered as the teacher glared at you and you muttered a sorry. The girls of the class pined over Oikawa, so all they could do was clench their jaws and give you a nasty look of disapproval.

"Why do you think it's a 'load of bullshit', [L/N]-san?" Tōru asked, and you shook your head as you said, "Why would you think it's better to get your heart broken over an idiot that doesn't understand your feelings? Why would you waste your time trying to please someone else rather than looking after yourself? Tell me, if you think it's better to have cried over someone for many sleepless nights, why would you try so hard to keep it all together only for the other person to throw it all away?" 

"So I don't have to repeat the same mistakes again the next time," the boy stared into your [E/C] eyes with his russet ones, his expression indicating that he was teasing you.

"Well, do you think Romeo will go after a 13-year-old child the next time he wants to pleasure himself?" You chuckled, raising an eyebrow at the boy. He looked away in a blush, knowing that you weren't going to back down anytime soon. Shaking his head, the boy replied, "Shakespeare never specified Romeo's age though. He can be anywhere from thirteen to twenty-one."

"There you go proving my point," you smirked, crossing your arms over your chest as the boy looks down at his shoes. He lets out a small breath and then looks back up at you.

"But you still haven't said why you think love only gives us pain. That was your initial statement, am I correct?"

You huffed, trying to come up with a counter-argument, but just as you were about to open your mouth, the bell rang. You walked to your chair and began packing your things up as the teacher reminded you all about the homework you had to submit tomorrow. 

All the students piled out as you find yourself in deep thought. You didn't want to go home. If only this day could have lasted a little bit longer.

If only. 

"You're lost in thought," you hear an annoying voice next to you, and avert your gaze from the clouds to the boy towering above you. You got up from your seat as you grabbed your backpack and said, "That was a good debate."

He hummed, studying your every little movement. The way your hands ran through your hair when you were nervous, or the way you always ate away at the skin surrounding your nails when you were frustrated or lost in thought. 

"Don't you have volleyball practice or something like that?" you questioned when he followed you out the school-gates. Much to his surprise, you actually knew a couple of things about him. 

"I'm surprised that you even know that," he chuckled slightly, making you smile. You nodded, saying that, "Well, you have quite the fanbase."

"I do, don't I?" he smiled toothily. You studied his face carefully when he said, "You know, you're really pretty."

Oikawa Tōru had successfully painted a lopsided grin on your face, and your brows seemed relaxed without any signs of a frown like they did in class. A broad grin danced on his lips, and it seemed like his eyes were sparkling. You seemed so distant in class according to him. And now, when he actually saw a couple of the bruises on your body, he felt sorry. 

He understood that you hated the idea of love because of some sort of distasteful experience and because of that, he wanted to change your mind; he wanted to show you what love can truly do. He wanted you to find someone that could show you what love feels like. 

Maybe that person would be him. Just the thought made him blush. 

"What makes you say that?" you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked at him. An innocent expression glided amongst your features as he shook his head and said, "Nah, I just wanted to tell you that you were pretty. You're really smart but you're just distant. You're always looking outside the window and being quiet is like, your thing." 

"Yeah, I don't exactly like socializing," you giggled. You liked how he emphasized many words in his sentences. It was cute, really. The two of you were walking towards your homes, and you had actually found out that he lives nearby. Just when you were about to make the turn to get to your street, Tōru said, "Hey."

You turned around and looked at him questioningly. A soft smile danced on his lips—something you never thought you'd never see on the volleyball captain's face. He was always so cocky in class, and girls swooned over him, causing you to assume that he was a douchebag.

"What?"

"Let's go hang-out for sometime. Go out for snacks or arcade or something," he mumbled, looking down at his shoes. You smiled, and asked, "And why would you ask me that?"

"You look like you'd want to spend some time with a friend before heading back home."

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[ohpedromypedro]

May I request a prompt? So you and P met through a mutual friend and started hanging out as friends. One night you got too drunk and asked him why he hasn’t asked you out yet... (answer: he’s aware and cautious of the Age Gap ™). Lots of drunken flirtiness!

A/N: I hope this is close to what you were hoping for 🥺💕

word count: 2.2k+

characters/pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!Reader

warnings: angst, alcohol use, more switching between tenses lol

Thoughts italicized and bold

You had met Pedro through your older brother’s good friend Oscar, who also happened to be another one of your favorite actors even before you knew your brother was friends with him, but when Pedro Pascal himself showed up to your shared apartment for one of your brother’s small gatherings with Oscar and their usual few buddies, you nearly fainted at first sight of him. He hadn’t noticed you, yet, and after a moment of gawking at him you turned around and swiftly made your way back to your room to hide for a minute, only then having caught Pedro’s attention as your body moved to dip back into your room.

That was only encounter number one of that night, though. If Pedro Pascal was in your apartment for the night there was no way you were going to be hiding all shy in your room, you had to meet him. So you did. You threw on your comfiest pair of clothes and made your way out to the living room where they were lounged out having a few drinks and laughing away, talking about who knows what. You bit your lip and walked into the adjoining kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge, taking a few small deep breaths as you hid behind the small coverage from the fridge door, willing yourself to relax and not get all worked up because your favorite actor is sitting in your living room. Unbeknownst to you, he had his gaze on you from where he was sat on one of the small couches, wondering if he should go over and see if you need help picking out something to drink.

“Hey,” your brother’s soft, low voice captured Pedro’s attention and Pedro quirked a nervous brow in question. “Go talk to her. She really likes you.” He spoke low enough that only they heard, quirky little smirk on his face as he nodded in your direction which Oscar elbowed him in the side at. “What? Just saying. I know she’s too shy to come over and introduce herself, so.” “Alright. I can handle that.” Pedro smiled, standing from his seat on the small couch and quietly making his way toward the kitchen.

You were still standing between the fridge doors, your eyes closed for a moment as you took in several slow, deep breaths.

“Need help picking out a drink?” A chuckle sounded from behind you and you immediately recognized the voice as Pedro’s. “Or is there some sort of door to another dimension hiding in your fridge?”

You smiled at his words, letting out an almost inaudible giggle as you bit down your lip and opened your eyes again, turning your head to look at him with a shy smile.

“I was trying to summon the chocolate milk fairies, but to no avail.” You sighed dramatically.

Pedro grinned at that, already falling into the adorable little pit that is you. Chocolate milk fairies? She’s something else. He knew it, felt it the moment he got that first good look at you when you first walked into the kitchen, but he wasn’t going to admit it. Not yet, at least. You were much younger than him, pretty much half his age, which honestly, he might have secretly preferred… He was just unsure if you were comfortable with an older man. Plus, love takes time and during the time that he spent talking or physically spending with you, he wanted to get to know you better. And he did.

The two of you talked a lot after that night. The first few weeks spent sending or receiving good morning texts, which then turned to sending each other snapchats after you convinced him into downloading it just to talk to you. Weeks of constant back and forth silly snapchats turned to finally getting the chance to hang out with each other after Pedro finished some filming that took roughly two months. You no longer felt shy around him, your bravery having taken control the night you met and allowing you to be a normal 25 year old female around her celebrity crush.

The first night you hung out together,  your brother was away for some sort of band meeting he’s a drummer, so you had the apartment to yourselves and decided to watch a movie together and just relax.

“What would you like to snack on, mister? Popcorn? Potato chips? Waffles?” “Waffles?” Pedro laughed, appearing in the roomy kitchen right behind you after coming from the living room where he was getting the movie set up for you to watch. “Well, I don’t know what kind of foods you snack on for movies,” you laughed softly in return, turning around to tilt your head. “Hmmm...what do 45 year old men snack on?” You hummed in thought, which he laughed at. “Cap’n Crunch, mostly.” He smiled. “Oh yeah, that’s right!” You giggled, your mind thinking back on his GQ interview. “Oooh wait!” You turned around to look in the fridge, grinning when your eyes spotted the tray of mixed berries in the back. “We have berries. How about berries?” “Berries will do,” his smile was now a grin, adoring the fact that you remembered that little detail about him from a previous interview. “Good. So berries to share and maaaaybe some potato chips in case I’m craving something salty too.” You smiled, grabbing the tray of berries from inside the fridge and closing the door before setting the fruit on the counter, opening the snack closet next to grab a bag of potato chips from inside. “Why not eat the whole damn pantry. Jesus.” Pedro laughed as he gazed upon the slew of snacks littering the inside of the food pantry you used for snacks, giving his head an amused shake. “Trust me, 90% of that is all my brother.” You laughed, closing the door to the pantry and turning to face Pedro again. “Drink?” You asked with a smile. “Water will do just fine, actually. Thank you.” He gave you a warm smile before grabbing the tray of fruit from the counter and carrying it into the living room to set on the coffee table, giving you a smile when you joined him with two bottles of water and the chips, handing him one of the waters. “Thank you.” “You’re quite welcome.”

Once the two of you settled on one of the couches and got the movie started, you began digging into your snacks. You were sitting close to each other, but not too close that you were obviously in each other’s personal space. You were comfortable, to say the least, and somewhere along the way as the movie continued playing and it slipped later into the night, you ended up fast asleep while curled right against Pedro’s side. He didn’t mind, of course, you looked so peaceful; but you also looked beautiful when you slept and he would hate to take that view away just to move you to your bed, so he stayed like that, curled up on the couch with you while you slept in the comfort of his embrace.

That’s how most nights ended when you did get to see him despite his busy lifestyle and as much as you wanted to apologize for always falling asleep on him when he visited, you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You knew he didn’t mind since he let it happen every single time, but there was also something unspoken about the situation and you knew it wasn’t a topic to discuss until the right time.

Which is what brings us to present day, which alcohol apparently believes to be the best time to bring up what’s been eating at you for almost a little over a year now.

You and Pedro are hanging out at his place for once, seeing as your place is your usual hangout spot, and it’s a nice change in pace and scenery. Things feel much more relaxing at Pedro’s apartment and there’s a sense of peace you feel here that you don’t feel at home, which can also contribute to why you’re feeling more confident tonight. That and the few alcoholic drinks deep that the two of you now are.

The television is playing some random movie on Netflix more for background noise than anything, neither of you paying much attention to what’s on since you’re too engulfed in your current drunken more so you than Pedro even though he is a little inebriated game of Gin Rummy to even care. Pedro would rather look at your adorable concentration face than any film Netflix has to offer and honestly, he just can’t keep his eyes off of you right now.

“You’re so beautiful…” He says it so quietly your ears almost don’t pick it up, but immediately your cheeks are going a deep shade of crimson from his words.

Pedro’s never verbally expressed how beautiful he finds you before, so the sudden confession has you feeling beyond flustered and the alcohol isn’t helping you either.

“I truly could sit here and just stare at you all day, absorb all that beauty and have it ingrained in my memory forever.” His words are barely slurred, but you can still tell he’s had several drinks since the night began.

You chew your lip, looking up from your cards to meet his gaze. You’re almost surprised to see so much adoration hidden behind it.

“Thank you,” is all you whisper before you set your cards face down and take in a small, deep breath. “Mind if I use the restroom?” “Go for it,” he smiles, setting his own cards down and watching while you get up to head to the bathroom. His gaze lingers where you disappeared for a long moment before finally turning it to the movie playing on the TV, letting himself get lost in the plot a bit while you relieve yourself in the bathroom.

You’re not actually in there to pee, you’re more there to stare at yourself in the mirror and will yourself to see what Pedro sees. If he finds you so beautiful, why doesn’t he ask you out? Why does he consistently allow you to fall asleep on him the way you do, but not do anything to further your relationship? Is it because he just doesn’t see you as more than a friend? Maybe you’re not even worth being more than a friend. Your mind is racing and you just need to get answers, answers to questions you’ve been asking yourself for quite some time now.

Deciding enough is enough, you splash some water on your face, dry tour hands off and take a deep breath before making your way back out to the living room. Pedro is still sitting on the couch with his gaze glued to the TV and with a small bite of your lip, you retake your position beside him.

“Pedro?” Your voice comes out quiet but not unheard and he looks over from the flashing TV screen to look at you. “Yeah?” “What’s stopping you?” You mumble, staring down at your lap where your hands are resting. “I’m sorry?” He tilts his head, muting the TV so he can hear you better. “What do you mean?” “I mean…” You take a deep breath, fiddling with your thumbs. “You like me, right?” “Of course I do.” He replies, reaching over to rest his hand over your fiddling ones to get you to look over at him. “And you enjoy spending time with me?” You sniffle, not even realizing there are tears slipping down your cheeks until Pedro reaches up to wipe them away, gently cupping your face in his warm hands and making you meet his gaze. “Of course, Y/N. Why are you asking such things?” He frowns, his eyes tracing over each inch of your distraught features. “I just…” You whisper, shaking your head as you flutter your eyes shut, trying your best to keep your bottom lip from trembling. “You care about me?” “Yes,” he states simply, the soft, concerned look in his gaze still there as he looks over your face, his thumbs lightly brushing against your cheekbones. “Then...then why haven’t you asked me out yet?” Your voice wavers and cracks and just the very sound makes it feel as though his heart is shattering into a million pieces.

Pedro never wanted you to feel any of these emotions, to see you in tears over him, but inevitably you are and although it wasn’t his intention, it is kind of almost entirely his fault for not expressing his true emotions to you.

“Y/N…” He murmurs, brushing his thumbs against your cheekbones some more. “Look at me, miel.” You do and when your eyes finally open again, he’s giving you the most sincere look. “I love you, querida. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me, it’s just that...I’m older and I didn’t think y--” “Pedro…” You whisper, your glazed over eyes locked on his soft brown ones, the two of you gazing deeply into each other’s eyes for several moments before you finally speak up again. “Your age doesn’t matter to me, Pedro… Your character does. Your personality is what defines you, not your age. There’s so much more about you than meets the eye and it’s why I love you.” “Y/N…” He breathes, leaning forward to capture your lips for a deep, passionate kiss, proving to you just how true his words are about loving you and showing his appreciation for your own reassuring words. “I love you.” “I love you,” you whisper, sighing in content as his forehead rests against your own. “Sé mi novia,” he murmurs, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you flush against his chest, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “Be my girl,” he repeats in English and you couldn’t nod your head any quicker even if you tried. “Si,” you murmur softly, earning yourself a wide smile from Pedro. “Always…”

Everything taglist: @halefirewarrior @takemepedropascal @wildcard566 @readsalot73 @talesfromtheguild @msmona @oberynispunk @whiskeyxinxaxteacup @pedrosdoll @ah-callie

Pedro taglist: @manuphantom @unadulterated-neckherolover @luna-longbott0m @hanelijoy @bxbyriku @lireandcampfire

If you’d like to be added to one of the lists, let me know 💕

[ko-fanatic]

Blood, Guts and Chocolate Cake (Part 3)

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Danganronpa

Pairings: IshiMondo

Summary: Breakfast before the show, and Mondo realising he loves Taka's music if it's live. Still, there's something too close to a disturbing premonition burning under Mondo's skin, and the idol's comments, actions and frame just make it worse. Something's going on with him...

TW: Alcohol, and eating disorders (both restrictive behaviours and B/P), mentions of disability, underage sex/sexualisation, drugs

Other parts: Part one | Part two

Kiyotaka did not, in fact, get to finish his allotted miles. 

Mondo, in his defense, had attempted to continue, but after another mile his lungs had given up on him. Taka was so concerned, hearing his wheezing breaths, that he’d gotten him to spill about being asthmatic. The idol then promptly freaked out, calling a taxi to take them back to the hotel and insisting that he’ll keep his workouts to a gym setting in future.

He could tell Taka was upset - he might be callous, but he wasn’t stupid. Still, the kid said he was just antsy, nothing to worry about. Excess energy he hadn’t had the chance to burn off.

After a while of sitting on the couch, watching the TV that was way bigger than it had any right to be, he wasn’t actively dying anymore. Therefore, Taka saw it fit to leave him for a bit as he pottered around, doing idol things. He could hear Taka practising one of his songs in the bathroom as he performed his ludicrously long skin care routine. 

Honestly, he was more focussed on Taka’s singing than the shitty sitcom on TV. He’d heard the polished, studio versions - who hadn’t? - but this was something else. Fuck autotune, for sure; Taka’s voice was beautiful, crisp as a bell and perfectly trained. But rather than the polished version, Taka added more vocal tricks and a generally interesting style to the song that he’d never heard before. 

If there was more of that in his official audios, Mondo would’ve been an avid fan by now. 

“And if you got a little more time, baby let me hold your hand in mine,” The idol sang as he strolled into the kitchenette, opening the fridge and retrieving an apple, “Drink you up like the finest wine, lick you off my lips before showtime -”

“Whoa,” He whistled lowly, unable to help himself, “Those lyrics aren’t very ‘sweet boy next door’.”

“Oh,” Taka blinked, seemingly just remembering he wasn’t the only one in the room, “That was actually my original version, before it was reviewed. Too lewd for the image, I guess.”

“Or they didn’t want a bunch of tweens bustin’ their first nut in public,” He chuckled, Taka’s nose scrunching in disgust. 

“Ew,” He huffed, retrieving an apple from the fridge and starting to cut it up, “I’d rather not think about that.”

He just smirked, not bothering to turn back to the mindless crap on TV, just watching as Taka prepared his breakfast. He was about as meticulous about cutting up that apple as he was his choreography; while anyone would cut an apple into segments (barring bento making), Taka halved and cored it before cubing the frankly pathetic slivers of fruit he was left with. 

The cubes were small, almost diced, and quickly scraped into a bowl like they'd burn Taka if they so much as brushed the pale, thin skin of his hands. Then, a bottle of lemon juice was procured, sprinkled on the un-diced half of the apple before it was wrapped in cellophane and sealed in a Tupperware box. Just watching the methodical, practiced actions had Mondo raising an eyebrow; Taka sealed that half apple away like some corny Hollywood curse. Like it would come back for one final scare if he didn't get rid of it.

He expected another fruit to be taken from the fridge, making up a small fruit salad, or for bread to be put in the toaster. Hell, he'd be cool with the promise of Starbucks or McDonald's on the way to the venue, but no. 

Taka sat next to him on the sofa, chopsticks in hand as he daintily picked at the meagre portion he'd given himself. His frown only deepened when he saw just how little it amounted to, barely obstructing the bottom of the bowl from view. It hardly counted as an apple, looking far more like peelings you’d throw in the garbage than an actual meal. 

“That it?” He asked, gesturing to the ‘meal’ as Taka placed a particularly small cube into his mouth. 

“What do you mean?” The idol asked, raising an eyebrow, “It’s my breakfast.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock,” He grumbled, “I mean, ‘wow, kid, you eat less than a fuckin’ bird, go get some more’.”

“Half an apple is perfectly fine,” Taka defended, putting down his chopsticks to properly argue with him. It made a pang go off in Mondo’s chest, especially as his eye was drawn to the small bowl, resting on Taka’s thin thigh. 

Most people’s thighs pool when sitting; flesh, whether be muscle or fat, generally molds under pressure. However, there was still that oh-so-lauded gap between the boy’s thighs, hardly more than bone. It made him… uncomfortable. Like seeing a cancer patient on their final days; only Taka wasn’t dying, ashen complexion notwithstanding. 

“Yeah, no, it’s not,” He spoke bluntly, no preamble, “You did a three mile run, and you’ll be in rehearsals all day. Half an apple’s not going to keep you going.”

The idol rolled his eyes, muttering something about how his run should have been five miles, and picked up the chopsticks once more. He seemed to just push the fruit around his plate, however, instead of bringing piece after piece to his lips like he had before. 

“What -?”

“Lost my appetite,” Taka shrugged, standing on those tiny, boney legs once more, “I’ll have something later.”

Mondo didn’t comment, not wanting to upset Taka more than he, apparently, already had. He simply watched as the peelings got scraped into the bin with the rest of the apple, hardly eaten. Maybe the equivalent of a couple bites. 

He didn’t say anything, considering he’d already put the kid off his food. He’d make a note of it, but he mainly put it up to nerves for tonight; big venue, and didn’t they say that stage fright was an important part of this shit? 

“Looking forward to the show?” Taka asked as he washed up his bowl, chopsticks and knife. 

“Honestly, yeah,” He nodded, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, lounging around like he owned the place, “I’m not a huge fan of pop, but what you were singing now was cool. Guess I like live music better than studio versions.”

“Honestly, that’s completely valid,” Taka smiled, “I prefer doing my own thing, with no editing to slow me down…”

---

Mondo was having the time of his fucking life! Taka wasn’t kidding about editing slowing him down, the guy was a beast on stage. 

The stage lighting pounded down on the idol, refracting off the metallic accents of his costume and catching the beads of sweat at his temple. Two hours of jumping around, dancing, singing, and playing his guitar, and he showed no signs of slowing. The adrenalin was high, and it vibrated through Taka, the crowds, the stadium itself and straight through Mondo himself. 

If he was a cheesier person, he’d say it was like he could feel Taka’s own heartbeat through the music, resting in his chest next to his own. But he wasn’t that sappy. Nope. Not at all.

He certainly wasn’t prepared for Taka to remove the prince-like, white jacket to reveal the costume underneath. A crisp button-up was par for the course, but the leather harness buckled around his torso made the simple look jaw dropping. Finale outfit, he’d heard one of the costumers mention, but he hadn’t been paying attention at the time. 

The leather looked so perfect wrapped around his thin body, and Mondo was screaming. Internally, thankfully, but this was going to be his end. 

The song wasn’t long at all, maybe a couple minutes. Like a vast majority of Taka’s “approved” songs, it was about love; albeit darker. A couple heavily veiled allusions to bondage, both in the fun and not-so-fun senses, a feeling of wanting to pull away but being far too in love to do what was healthy. 

The crowd just ate it up, even if it gave Mondo an odd feeling… Foreboding, perhaps? Some sort of anxious buzzing under his skin, like a premonition, but no basis in anything he could actually pinpoint. It wasn’t like he could see Taka’s eyes, or anything like that. Maybe a slight tremor in the voice, but fuck, the kid had literally been singing for hours. 

After the final guitar riff, and a couple breaths, Taka grabbed one of his water bottles off the front of the stage, not even hesitating to dump it all over his head. The screaming from the crowd managed to increase tenfold, and he was pretty sure the whole stadium was enjoying the view of that white shirt turning translucent and clinging so enticingly.

“Thank you and goodnight!” He cheered, stage lights going out and allowing Taka to walk off stage with minimal awkwardness. 

“That…” Mondo began, Taka holding up a finger as they disconnected his mic, making sure none of the sounds backstage got broadcasted and ruined any spell the audience was under. 

“Sorry I had to interrupt you,” Taka apologised, so sweetly sincere, “You were saying?”

“Just… That was incredible…” He breathed, still slack jawed from the rush of the concert, “You… I…”

“Articulate,” Taka smirked, hand on hip as he sauntered off to get changed, before he would exit and be swarmed with both eager fans and paparazzi alike. 

Mondo was smiling, heart still hammering, until his attention was brought to what was visible beneath the sodden fabric. 

Ribs.