#it's very funny how i went from unable to walk at all to walking being the state in which i am in the least pain

[verifiablebot]

pulled the trigger on a standing desk today and i'll be picking up a walking pad soon as well. i am trying not to think about how much both of those things cost

i think insurance should cover shit like this, considering my only other option is pain and subluxed ribs from shrimping so hard to keep the weight off of my hips

[fastandcarlos]

Pregnant Pranks : ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton

summary: lewis loves to mess with you, but messing with a pregnant lady unleashes a whole new world of fury

Your eyes widened in horror as you walked into the kitchen, opening up the cupboard you scanned the shelf, unable to find the jar of gherkins that you had placed that earlier in the day after your shop. 

“Lewis!” You shouted through the house, watching him walk through with a mischievous smile etched upon his face. “Where are they?” You asked, knowing this had his name all over it. 

It had been a bit of a thrill for Lewis to keep you on your toes during your pregnancy, he loved winding you up and testing how far he could push you with all your hormones. Most days you ended up being on the end of some sort of prank whilst Lewis tried his best to keep you positive. 

If you asked Lewis, the worst thing about your pregnancy was your cravings. The smells that travelled through your house were disgusting to say the least, with Lewis often walking around having to pinch his nose. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you warned, placing your hand over the top of your bump. “I know you don’t like them, but getting rid of them isn’t the way to go about this.” 

Lewis’ head nodded as you noticed him looking above your head and into the cupboard. He could feel you staring across at him, tapping your foot on the floor as you impatiently waited for some sort of answer from him.  

Whilst you stood in annoyance, Lewis couldn’t help but smile, watching as you glanced completely unaware of just how close what you wanted was actually to you. 

“What are you looking for?” Lewis questioned, closing the distance between the two of you, placing his hands on your shoulders. 

“You know what I’m looking for,” you frowned, hitting your hand against his chest. “Do you get some sort of sick kick out of tormenting pregnant people?” 

The more Lewis smiled down at you, the more irritated you became. You didn’t ask for much, all you wanted was for him to tolerate the one thing that you needed to satisfy your cravings. 

“One day I’m going to get you back for all of this, you better sleep with one eye open,” you challenged, only to be greeted by even more laughter from Lewis. 

He leant forwards and pressed a kiss to your stomach, moving his hands to rest against your bump. “The baby doesn’t feel as if they want any of that stinky food right now.” 

“I’m telling you they want it,” you bluntly responded, patience running thin. “So, before I go and smash one of your cars up, can you tell me where they are please?” 

“Do you really think I believe you’d do such a thing?” 

You tried your best to keep your gaze looking serious, but Lewis knew you so well knowing that you would never even dream of doing such a thing, especially when you loved his car so much too. 

“Stop smiling, this isn’t funny,” you groaned, turning around to look again. 

“It is a tad,” Lewis smiled as you went up onto your tiptoes, trying to get a better look in the cupboard. 

You followed Lewis’ eyes once more, catching the shine of the gherkin jar hanging off the very top shelf. Your eyes went wide as you stretched up as tall as you possibly could, trying your best to swat the jar off of the shelf. Each time you failed, groaning when you placed your feet back down again. 

“You’ve had your laugh; now can you get them please?” You politely asked Lewis, “I cannot even begin to tell you how badly I’m craving these. I’ll even go and eat them in the garden Lewis.” 

“Why do you even crave them? They’re disgusting,” he frowned, shaking his head across at you but still keeping stuck to his spot, watching you closely. 

As he smiled with delight you decided to change your tactics, knowing you could play his game too. You grabbed one of the dining chairs and lined it up with the front of the cupboard, making sure that it aligned perfectly with the small sighting of the jar you had. 

“I guess I’ll just get it myself then,” you told yourself, placing one hand on the chair and one on the counter. 

Lewis continued to watch you without much of a care, but as you went to lift your foot up and place it on the chair to push yourself up, Lewis grabbed a hold of your hips and placed you on the other side of the room. 

“I’ve got it,” he quickly told you, reaching up with ease and taking the jar from the shelf, handing it across to you. “Were you really going to stand on a chair to get that down?” 

Your shoulders shrugged back at him, “I wasn’t messing when I told you how bad I was craving them. I’d go to some pretty extreme lengths when it comes to pregnancy cravings love.” 

“You can’t be doing things like that to me babe.” 

You unscrewed the lid and grabbed a fork from the cutlery drawer, quickly beginning to tuck in. Lewis’ face squirmed as he watched you start eating, unable to stop himself from judging you. Your face lit up at the delicious taste, sniggering at the look of disgust that Lewis wore instead. 

“I guess we can both play that game,” Lewis smiled as he grabbed a chair and placed it next to you for you to sit down. “Maybe it’s about time that I let you relax a little bit more whilst your pregnant.” 

“Did I scare you then?” 

“Of course,” he laughed, as if it were obvious. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you climbed up onto that chair and something happened, all because I wanted to try and play a stupid prank on you.” 

You were only half listening as you continued to munch on the gherkins, extending the jar to Lewis, offering one, only for his head to shake, swatting you away. 

“You’ve had some pretty good pranks over the past few months, I’ll give you that one,” you told him, “but if there’s one kind of person that you definitely don’t mess with, it’s a pregnant lady.” 

“I’ve learnt that the hard way,” Lewis smiled, taking a seat opposite you. “I don’t think my heart has quite calmed down yet from the fear of thinking that you’d go up there.” 

You couldn’t help but smile knowing that you’d given Lewis a little taste of his own medicine, for all the games he tried to play with you, there was only one number one mastermind in your relationship, and that was you. 

He had plenty in the bank after spending years winding his family up, but soon he would have a new target for all his pranks, looking forward to joking with your baby. He couldn’t wait to mess with them, embarrass them and be as annoying as possible, just like how he was with you. 

“I thought you said you were going to eat those in the garden anyway,” Lewis smiled, feeling your eyes narrow in on him, shooting a glare. 

“If anyone should be out in the garden, it’s you,” you challenged, “I’m going nowhere now that I’ve finally got my hands on these.” 

“You’re going to make me suffer that smell, aren’t you?” 

“Absolutely, and I’m going to love doing it too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[capricornlevi]

inevitability- nanami x f!reader

tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay

cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s

word count: 5.3k

a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!

//

"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."

"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"

you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."

"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.

"weird."

because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?

you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.

he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.

even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.

you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.

then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.

his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.

as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.

soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.

then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.

you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.

and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.

with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.

but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.

perfect timing. painfully perfect.

you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.

and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.

in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.

and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.

you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.

you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.

fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.

truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.

it made you grow up, and fast.

in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.

soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.

then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.

you wanted to have a kid.

this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.

to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.

instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.

"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."

"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.

he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."

you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.

nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."

"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."

you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.

he really would be perfect.

the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.

after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.

you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.

you were gonna have a kid together.

you and nanami.

coparenting.

as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.

when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.

still, no sign of backing out.

which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.

nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.

and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.

he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.

his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.

"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.

he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.

"do ... do you want to?"

his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.

it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --

"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.

his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.

"yeah -- yeah, okay."

you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.

he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.

his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.

he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.

this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?

this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.

this feels like something that was meant to happen.

he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"

you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.

all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.

his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.

you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.

then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.

he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.

this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:

"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"

"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.

when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.

your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.

you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.

but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?

just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.

"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."

you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.

"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."

"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.

"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"

he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.

"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."

"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."

it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.

you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.

but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --

you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.

you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.

you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.

just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.

"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.

you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.

"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."

"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."

nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.

any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.

you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.

"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.

and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.

you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --

but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.

less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.

he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.

nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.

"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"

"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"

"i do."

and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.

"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.

"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.

"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."

at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.

he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.

he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.

you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.

"fuck me, kento."

now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.

it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.

his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.

this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.

your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.

above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.

"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."

you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.

if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.

your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.

"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"

you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;

"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"

you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.

nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.

somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.

you want him like this for the rest of your life.

"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.

though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."

that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.

sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.

you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.

everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.

for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.

you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.

nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.

you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.

"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"

"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.

with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.

this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.

and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.

maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.

[succubus-nini]

GIRL- ok first of all hello. So I was thinking of a fan fiction about Miguel x reader but Miguel is your parents’ close friend and you are at a ceremony all together after many years and he doesn’t take his eyes off of reader, so then they get alone and he fcks reader hard (not sure if you have already written one like this sorry if I didn’t see it) ❤️❤️

A/N-Im sorry it took me nearly a year to finish this babes

You and Miguel? You really didn't know, Miguel was only known by you because of your mother and father who favored him. It's funny actually, because they would always tell Miguel to watch out anytime he was near you. You were a wild child, always getting into something, and VERY MUCH petty. One time, Miguel had stepped on your precious (pet's name) paw, and you proceeded to make him think he was going insane the next three days by staying in his room and hiding whenever he checked.

He found out through you yourself, since you walked up to him one day with a sly grin. "How do you like my ghost act?" Were the words that made him connect the dots. Its safe to say he's over it, but he still checks his closet anytime he's going to bed because of it. You scarred the man for life. You haven't seen the man in years after your parents decided to move you to a place a couple cities away.

Your parent's fiftieth anniversary was approaching, and your aunts had planned a surprise party for when they got back, As you were helping prepare, you heard a familiar voice call your name. "Y/n?" Miguel said, his eyes wide in recognition. He hadn't seen you in a while, suddenly feeling his longing for you starting to sink back into his system as his heart raced upon seeing you again. So close to fuck touch but not yet, he'd have to control himself until the right moment.

You turned around and smiled, you had missed your favorite playmate. "Miguel!" You squealed, pouncing on the taller being. The man caught you and chuckled, putting you down. "Long time no see." He said, a joyous expression being seen in his eyes, even if his face said otherwise. "It has been! Did you miss me?" You questioned, leaning forward. Miguel caught sight of your cleavage from that specific motion, and started to blush.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "I missed some of you, not your troublemaking ways." You rolled your eyes and shoved a box into his hands. "Well, in that case, You can go help in the house with the decorations, Miguel." You huffed, pretending to be mad as you kept setting up the tables. Miguel chuckled, seeing right through your façade, and went inside to talk with your uncle on what to do with the box of decorations he had.

Soon, your parents came back. When they entered the house, everybody jumped out and shot them with hand held confetti cannons, "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!" Everybody yelled enthusiastically, their smiles lighting up the room as your parents laughed and thanked everyone. Your cousins ushered your parents outside, everyone following behind them to get the party started.

While everyone else was dancing, Miguel was sitting on the sidelines, watching you while taking occasional sips of his drink. Every movement you made was memorizing to him, his eyes unable to leave your swaying form. After a bit, You got tired and went inside. You decides to stay in your room for a bit, since the dancing portion had stopped and everyone started fixing plates for themselves and others to eat.

Miguel had followed you inside, his head buzzing with thoughts about you. Unknowing to his intentions, you invited him into your room, sitting on your bed and getting comfortable as you turned the TV on. It wasn't long before he sat on the bed too, his eyes never fully leaving your form.

The room started to feel warm when you noticed his gaze on you, his eyes basically eating away at your being and undressing you before himself. You fanned yourself, trying to cool down your heating face. "Its a bit warm in here isn't it," You gently giggled, turning to Miguel. The larger man groaned and grabbed you, tugging you onto his lap before pressing his lips against your own.

If you were warm before, you were burning up now; Everything was so hot, his tongue inside your mouth as he pushed you down, his hands on your skin as he tugged your dress off and fondled your breasts, the air around him as his own clothes joined your dress on the floor. It was all so fuzzy, your brain couldn't even properly process what was happening until Miguel parted from your lips and made his way between your legs, leaving a kiss every inch he descended.

"Miguel not there.." You whined, tugging at his hair as he began to lap at your core, his tongue diving between your folds to bring your arousal into his mouth. You could tell he was good with his mouth just by the way we worked his tongue inside you all while using his lips to suck on your puffy clit. You felt a odd feeling, a tightening in your lower stomach. "M-Miguel..-" You stammered, trying to warn him but it was all in vain. You're cumming on his face before you know it, your head hitting your headboard with a thud as the pleasure washes over you in waves.

Miguel lifted his face to look at her before pressing another kiss to your face, you liquids still o his tongue. He had to prep you, he knew he was bigger than average and that you'd need something to help with the stretch. He had some lube in his bag, which was also on the floor, so he retrieved it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he poured some on your throbbing cunt, making sure his hand was coated as well before sinking a finger into your heat.

He soon sunk a second finger into you, working you open slowly but surely. When he was able to get a fourth finger into you, he was satisfied with his work. He stroked his cock a few times, preparing it for what's to come. He slowly pushes his tip into your entrance, groaning as he he went deeper inch by devastatingly delicious inch. "Oh Mi Alma.." He whispered in your ear when he bottomed out in you, staying still to let you adjust to his girth.

He waited for a sign from you, anything to let him know that you're ready. It wasn't long before he got the green light from you, immediately pulling out until the tip was the only thing inside and slamming into you. It felt so good to have you under him, to mark up and grab onto your soft skin as he ravaged you. He kept biting you on whatever he could reach while thrusting into your deepest parts. Your shoulders, throat, and breasts were all bitten and sore from his relentless attack on them.

He picked up the pace, ramming into you with such force you could barely breathe. He wanted you to cum, he wanted you to tighten around him and milk his cock for every drop he could give you. His hips moved roughly against yours, the sound of skin against skin getting louder as time passed. The feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin, his cock drilling into your abused cunt, his hands squeezing your hips was all too much for you.

Your legs shook as another orgasm crashed onto you, your hands grabbing at the sheets as a cry fell from your lips. Miguel was soon after, not lasting too long when he was getting squeezed by you. "Fuck.." He mumbled, gently pulling out and watching as his cum seeped from your hole. He had half a mind to plug you up again, but hearing a small whimper from you quickly snapped him out of it. He got up and dampened a rag from your bathroom, cleaning you up. When he finished his aftercare, he kissed your forehead, watching you sleep. "Te amo, alborotadora." He said before falling asleep with you in his arms.

[waterhousse]

That Funny Feeling

Pairing: bestfriend!ellie williams x reader

Summary: you slowly start to realize you’ve fallen in love with your best friend.

• • • •

“are you done?” you groaned, tired. the girl in front of you gazed up at you, eyes wide and eyewbrows up.

“does it look like i’m done?” ellie gestured at herself. you almost laugh at how sassy she looked.

“i’ve been posing for an eternity.”

“it’s been like ten minutes!”

“well, i can’t feel my ass anymore.”

“i’m sure it’s still there,” she said without even looking at you.

after a few moments of silence, you spoke up again, “you’re gonna have to pay me for this.”

ellie looked up from her sketchbook, completely offended. “is my art not enough payment?”

“i can’t buy shit with your art,” you deadpanned.

you had been so quick with your reply that an inevitable chuckle escaped your friend’s lips. “fuck you,” she laughed and you found yourself wanting to come up with an infinite amount of jokes just to hear that sound again. “hold still or i’m gonna have to start over.”

your eyes stayed on her as she went back to her job, unable to look anywhere else. you had always enjoyed watching her draw, founding it soothing. it also allowed you to study her and notice quirks only you could know about; the way she slightly frowned during the whole process due to the concentration and the countless huffs she let out, especially when she had to restart after a mistake. your favorite one, though, was when she sung. ellie’s voice was sweet, you had told her that many times, so you loved being able to hear it. she didn’t even notice she did it, the melodies just came out without warning.

“aaand, done.”

you jumped out of the big rock you had been sitting on for the past fifteen minutes and ran to her side, trying to catch a glimpse of her drawing, but she closed the sketchbook on your nose.

“hey, let me see.”

“it’s not ready yet,” she started gathering her supplies. you rolled your eyes at her. “stop that,” she muttered.

“what— i haven’t even said anything!”

“i know you rolled your eyes at me,” ellie said as she looked for something inside her backpack. you scoffed, but it actually warmed your heart how well she knew you. “c’mon, let’s go to my place. it’s getting late.”

you were currently behind the town’s barn, ellie had chosen that spot because, apparently, the moonlight hit your face just right. it was cold as hell that night, but being the supportive friend that you were, you decided to respect ellie’s struck of inspiration.

“i’ll show you the drawing when it’s finished, by the way,” she spoke up once you caught up with her.

“kay, well, finish it quick or else i won’t pose for you anymore.”

“fine, i’ll ask stella.”

you dramatically gasped at the mention of her. stella was relatively new in Jackson and the only person in the world you truly despised.

“don’t even joke about that.”

the fact that you hated someone that much was hilarious to her. it didn’t match your personality at all. you were the calmest, sweetest person she had ever met. besides, no one really knew why you hated her so much. even you, which was ridiculous. for some reason, everything that girl did or said annoyed you. you couldn’t stand her, feeling there was something off about her, but couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” she placed an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to her. you tried to ignore how fast your heartbeat had gotten. that seemed to be happening a lot lately around her. “but hey, you gotta admit she’s not that bad.”

your heart dropped, “you’ve talked to her?”

“what? no. i just think she’s hot.”

you crossed your arms as you hummed in response, suddenly feeling very sick. there was a sharp pang in the pit of your stomach, so you spent the entire walk quiet, only answering to ellie’s babbling with monosyllables. your friend had noticed, so once you arrived at her place she grabbed you by the arm, making you turn around.

“hey, you, uh, you okay? i was kidding about stella. she’s not— i’m not interested in her, y’know?” ellie was nervous, but you were too busy staring at the hand that was stopping you from walking away and how your skin tingled beneath it.

“it’s fine,” you gave her a small smile, eyes back on her. “but i think i’m about to come up with a fever or something, i feel a little weird.”

ellie stepped closer, letting go of your arm and placing her hand on your forehead. “yeah, i think you’re hot.”

you let out a chuckle, “thanks, i’m glad you’re finally admitting it.”

your friend rolled her eyes before opening the door for you. she stood by the doorframe, waiting for you to go inside, but you hesitated.

“i think it’s best for me to go home—”

“what? no, shut up. i’m gonna head over to joel’s to see if he has some painkillers or something, you stay here,” she said as she softly pushed you inside her house. you opened your mouth as you turned around, ready to protest, but the sound of the door closing stopped you. letting out a sigh, you looked around to finally set your eyes on the couch, where you decided to wait for ellie as you tried to ignore whatever you were feeling.

you swept your gaze over the place, warmth spreading over your heart as you spotted little details that screamed ellie; a bunch of savage starlight comics, her guitar perfectly set next to the window, art supplies, books about astronomy and many, many drawings that were either on the walls or just laying on top of the furniture.

you spotted one of her many sketchbooks laying on the floor by her bed, so you went to pick it up and put it on her nightstand, next to the lamp.

after a while, you heard the sound of jiggling keys followed by ellie’s characteristic cursing. you got up from the couch and went to open the door for her since she was clearly struggling. ellie’s frown disappeared once she laid her eyes on you.

“you okay?” you asked, amused.

“this fucking door, i swear to god—” she mumbled as she stepped inside. “look! joel made you soup. i swear he likes you more than he likes me.”

you chuckled at the last part, “i mean, can you blame him?” you joked. there was no way he liked anyone more than ellie, but that didn’t change the fact that you felt incredibly loved and protected by him, too.

ellie gazed at you, a small smile hiding on her lips, “yeah, i supposed i can’t,” she almost whispered. “c’mon, get into bed,” she ordered.

“jeez, ellie. buy me a drink first, at least,” you said, missing ellie’s flustered state. it only lasted a second, though, because her usual smug smirk was already forming on her lips.

“oh, you wish,” she teased back.

maybe it was what she said, maybe it was the way she said it, but your stomach flipped at her words. it was such an unexpected reaction that it made you froze in your spot, completely startled.

“you’re gonna get in bed or…?” ellie’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, she was holding up the covers for you.

“i can go to my house, you know. i don’t wanna be any trouble—” you said as you sat down on the bed. your friend pointed at your shoes and gestured for you to take them off.

“shut up and just let me take care of you, would you?” ellie carefully placed the soup on the nightstand. she went around the bed and sat on the other side just as you wiggled under the covers. she looked down at you, slightly leaning down, “you’re so stubborn,” she murmured as she passed you the soup.

you frowned, offended, “look who’s talking,” you bickered as you glanced up, but you weren’t prepared to see her so close. your eyes met hers, forcing you to avert your gaze elsewhere. you felt her stare still on you, making you malfunction. maybe that was the reason you took a sip of the soup without even considering how hot it would be. ellie laughed shamelessly at you when you burned your tongue. “shit!” you shrieked.

“i’m not saying you deserved it, but…” ellie teased. you would’ve pushed her off the bed if you hadn’t had a flaming hot bowl of soup in your hands, instead, you silently watched her take off her converse. she looked back at you, “move over, i’m cold.”

your breath hitched on your throat at the request, but did as she said. you kept your attention on the bowl of soup that warmed your cold hands, not feeling brave enough to make eye contact with the girl next to you.

“how’s the soup?”

“oh, it’s great. joel’s the best. remind me to thank him tomorrow.” you smiled. “want some?”

“nah, thanks. i don’t like soup.”

“what do you mean you don’t like soup?”

“i just don’t.”

“what’s not to like? it’s yummy.”

“i’m gonna ignore the fact that you just said yummy. and i don’t know! i just don’t like it.”

“weirdo. you’re missing out.”

“okay, soup’s best defender, whatever you say,” she muttered as she closed her eyes. you bit the inside of your cheek as you allowed yourself to scan her face, stopping on the freckles you had complimented so many times.

you looked away, leaving the bowl of soup on the nightstand of your side. the sound made ellie open her eyes.

“you’re gonna sleep?” she asked, her eyes were even more hypnotizing up close.

you nodded, suddenly losing the hability to speak.

“me too,” ellie said before yawning.

“hold on. you’re gonna sleep in jeans, you freak?”

ellie let out an exaggerated groan, “i don’t have the energy to get up and change. it’s too much work.”

“don’t be lazy, c’mon. i’m gonna change, too.” you began to softly push her off the bed, which eventually worked. she walked to her closet and threw you a big white t-shirt, it was the same one you always wore when you slept over.

you averted your gaze from ellie once she started to take her pants off, but it strangely took a lot of strength for you to do so. you shook your head and climbed up to bed, shortly followed by your friend.

“there, happy?”

“very.”

“great. oh, and try not to kick me so fucking much this time or i’m gonna have to fight back,” she muttered with amusement.

you let out a chuckle, “i’ll do my best,” you whispered before everything fell quiet.

you didn’t know exactly how much time had passed since ellie turned off the light, but you were sure it was a while. still as a statue, you layed next to her while staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of how you were feeling. eyes wide, stomach in a knot and heart fluttering as if it were a butterfly.

you realized you had fallen asleep once you opened your eyes and daylight touched almost every corner of the room. you blinked a few times before you fully adjusted to the light, that’s when you noticed ellie’s closeness. she was almost on top of you, breathing into the crook of your neck. it wasn’t the first time you had woken up like that with her, but it was the first time you felt different.

“ellie,” you whispered. she whined in response, mumbling something inaudible. you felt your heartbeat race when she nuzzled further into your neck, feeling her lips touch your skin. you squeezed your eyes shut, noticing the unknown feelings from the day before were still present. “hey, ellie. c’mon. it’s almost eight,” you pronounced softly, but ellie ignored you. “i’ve got somewhere to be, y’know.”

“where?” she asked almost immediately.

“i told dina i’d have breakfast with her. i would’ve invited you, but i know you’re not a morning person, so…”

she complained once again, but eventually came out of her hiding. you almost laughed at her expression.

“were you born with that frown?” you placed your fingers in between her eyebrows, making her smoothen the lines.

“shut up,” she laughed softly. “and i could be a morning person, you know.”

“so you’re coming with me?”

“no, i wanna sleep.”

you laughed and got up, ellie’s eyes following you on your way to the bathroom until you closed the door. you stared at yourself in the mirror, suddenly feeling embarrassed because of the way your hair looked. ellie had seen you like that a million times before, but that time you actually cared about looking at least presentable for her.

with a sigh, you grabbed the toothbrush you had left once and started brushing your teeth. everything felt strange, but you tried to act as normal as possible.

after washing your face and brushing your hair, you changed into your clothes. you took a deep breath before getting out of the bathroom, trying to calm down the sudden nerves that attacked you, but the sight that welcomed you once you opened the door didn’t help at all; ellie’s bare legs were crossed on top of the bed, she had tied her hair into her usual half-bun and a few strands fell over her face as she drew on her sketchbook.

“i thought you wanted to sleep,” you commented, picking up your jacket from the floor.

“just wanted to add some finishing touches to yesterday’s drawing,” her voice sounded even raspier when she was sleepy. “oh, and i forgot to give you that jacket you asked me for the other day,” she said as she got out of bed and quickly walked to her closet, leaving the sketchbook on top of her nightstand.

“trade?” you held up your jacket, making her grin. she grabbed it from you and gave you hers, which you immediately put on.

“you look great,” ellie complimented you, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

“thank you,” you smiled, your voice sounding incredibly weak. “and thank you for taking care of me. i—” love you, you almost said, but for some reason, those last two words died in your throat. it was weird. even though you always said it to her, that time that phrase seemed to carry a heavier, still unknown, meaning. “i gotta go.”

you turned around to leave, but ellie called your name. you looked back at her and watched her grab her sketchbook from the nightstand. “here,” she handed it to you. just as you were about to open it, she stopped you. “wait! look at it later. i don’t wanna see your disappointment if you don’t like it.”

“don’t be silly, you could never disappoint me,” you sincerely replied. “but okay, i’ll see it when i’m home.”

“have fun with dina. not too much fun, though. you’re not allowed to enjoy life to the fullest if i’m not there.”

“i promise i won’t. see you later,” your eyes met hers one last time before closing the door.

when you arrived at your house, you saw dina already waiting for you. once she spotted you, she started frenetically waving at you. a laugh escaped your lips as you copied her action. yeah, two people with that much energy at 8 am would be a lot for ellie to handle.

“finally! i’ve knocking on your door for the past 10 minutes. i thought you were dead,” was the first thing she said to you as she gave you hug.

“sorry, i slept over at ellie’s.”

dina let out a chuckle, “of course you did.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“you two are always together, i should’ve known. that’s all,” dina shrugged her shoulders. she decided not to comment on the fact that you were wearing ellie’s favorite jacket.

you opened the door and stepped aside, inviting her in. you followed her to the kitchen, where you put water to boil.

“oh, i saw your friend on my way here,” dina commented as she took out two mugs from your hand-painted cupboard. ellie had participated in the process too, drawing different kind of flowers.

“my friend? who?”

“stella,” she amusedly pronounced. you inevitably rolled your eyes, making her laugh. “you still hate her?”

“yes! ellie brought her up yesterday and i almost threw up, i’m not kidding. i don’t even know why i hate her so much, i’ve never even talked to her,” you sat down at the kitchen island while dina stood on the other side of it.

“uh, yes you have,” your friend frowned, confused. “you seriously don’t remember? jesse’s party a few weeks ago, it was the night after she arrived to town.”

you tried your best to remember, but nothing came to your mind. you remembered the party, but not stella. your lost expression must’ve been enough for dina to know that you actually had no idea what she was talking about.

“woah, so you were more fucked up than i thought you were,” she muttered more to herself than to you. “okay, so, jesse invited her because she was new and all that. you had a lot to drink, apparently, so you were already drunk when you approached her. you introduced ourselves and asked her if she had met anyone else besides jesse and us and she said she hadn’t, but that she had seen a girl she was interested in and she was planning on finding her. when she started describing her, we realized she was talking about—”

“ellie. she was talking about ellie,” you replied, eyes wide. the memories came flooding back, making you freeze for a second. “oh my god.”

“you totally snapped at her and told her not to go anywhere near her or you’d scratch her eyes off,” she laughed, but you were completely horrified. “yeah, you get pretty violent when you drink. in my opinion, it’s hilarious.”

“i remember the way she ran away after i said that,” you cover your mouth in disbelief.

the more you processed the forgotten information, the more you worried. that uncontrollable hatred you felt towards stella was because of jealousy over your best friend?

“i mean, i support you. you gotta defend what’s yours,” dina cheered, but her smile disappeared once she noticed your expression. “hey, you okay?”

“i shouldn’t have done that. i had no right—”

“hey, it’s okay. i’m sure ellie wouldn’t have been interested in her anyway.”

“she told me she thinks stella’s hot yesterday,” you muttered, eyes set on your own fidgeting hands.

dina stayed quiet for a bit, but you could still feel her staring at you.

“what’s that?” she pointed to the sketchbook next to you.

“oh, it’s ellie’s. she drew me yesterday and gave it to me so i could see it,” you couldn’t help but smile. you watched dina take it and look at the pages with a blank expression.

“have you seen this?”

“not yet, why? is it good?”

“well, yeah, they’re good. there’s a lot of them.”

confused, you reached over to grab the book from her hands. your eyes widened at the content. you felt your heartbeat increase by the second and a deep blush color your cheeks as you rummaged through the pages. you were on each and every one of them; smiling, laughing, dancing, sleeping and more. you recognized some of them, since you remembered posing that way, but the majority of them were ellie’s invention. you were left speechless at how well she had managed to capture you, down to the smallest detail.

“she may think stella’s hot, but i can assure you she thinks you’re the most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth. i mean, look at those. you’re her muse,” dina smiled sweetly at you.

“i have to talk to her,” you whispered before standing up. “i don’t wanna leave you alone, but—”

“it’s okay, dummy. i’ll be here, drinking my tea and waiting for you to come back and to tell me everything. take your time, though.”

with dina wishing you good luck, you left with the sketchbook in hand and ran to her place without even thinking twice about it. you ignored how dizzy you felt and the way your heart was beating at an abnormal speed. nothing else mattered, because everything suddenly seemed crystal clear.

your heart skipped a beat once you arrived at ellie’s place and saw her sitting on joel’s stairs, staring down at something in her hands. she looked up when she heard you approach.

“ellie—”

“i gave you the wrong sketchbook,” she whispered, staring at the object in your hands. you frowned, stepping closer to her. “you weren’t supposed to see that. i’m— shit, i’m sorry.”

“what? ellie, no. i loved it.”

“listen, you don’t have to lie. i know it’s really fucking weird and pathetic—”

“you wanna hear something really weird and pathetic? i scared the shit out of a girl just because she told me she was interested in you. you wanna hear the funniest part? that girl was stella. i drunkenly told her to stay away from you or else i would scratch her eyes out.”

ellie’s eyes widened, mouth slightly agape. worry had started spreading through your body. “what?”

“i forgot about that whole interaction but the anger i felt in that moment stuck with me to the point i hated a girl without even knowing why,” you let out an awkward chuckle. “i… i hated her because she thought about you the way only i can think about you.”

everything became a little too real since the moment those words left your lips, and even though a weight had been lifted from your shoulders once you made that confession, it was soon replaced with the weight of the question ‘what will happen next?’

ellie’s gaze softened, going from confusion to something indecipherable. was it pity or was it what you hoped for?

suddenly, she stood up. you watched her as she walked painfully slow at you, torturing you. once she was only inches away from you, she smiled. with a hand placed on your waist and the other on the side of your face, she finally leaned in and captured your lips in an agonizing, yet perfect, slow kiss. you melted into her touch, feeling as if you were about to explode of happiness.

it was what you had hoped for.

“i can’t believe this is actually happening,” ellie murmured, lips touching yours. she leaned back a little, allowing herself to look at you. her eyes expressed so much love you couldn’t understand how you went so long without realizing that.

“you’re blushing,” you commented, eyes sparkling.

“oh my g— why would you point that out?” ellie complained, but she wasn’t mad. “you’re blushing too, by the way.”

“shut up.”

you silently stared at each other with shy smiles. ellie caressed your face with her thumb and softly pressed her lips on yours, giving you one small kiss. everything felt so intimate that you had forgotten about the rest of the world, completely unaware of the fact that you were on the street.

“i was so fucking scared when i realized i gave you the wrong sketchbook. i thought i’d messed everything up,” ellie whispered, her eyebrows furrowing a little. “i’ve dealt with loss in the past, and even though it hurt like hell, i got over it. or at least i’ve been able to live with it, but losing you? There’s no way i’d make it.”

your heart fully stopped at her sweet words, “you’ll never lose me.”

“good,” she smiled. “y’know, i told myself to draw you whenever you were on my mind, just so i could do something with what i was feeling. turns out that i’m never not thinking about you.”

not knowing how to reply to that, you launched yourself forward, crashing your lips with hers. you could feel her laughing, making you giggle too.

“i was so nervous on my way here. i wasn’t sure if you felt the same way,” you let out a small laugh, lips a little swollen.

“what? the sketchbook didn’t make that clear?”

“well, i didn’t want to jump to conclusions. i could be another stella, you know, just some girl you find hot,” you bitterly said.

ellie grimaced, “yeah, about that…” she awkwardly chuckled. “i don’t she’s hot. i only said that because i was hoping to get a reaction out of you.”

you gasped, “ellie, what the hell? first of all, you’re a bitch. that was a low blow. second of all, well played. it worked. it made me sick, literally.”

“i thought that was a coincidence,” she let out a laugh. “am i a mastermind or what?”

you rolled your eyes at her gloating, “yeah, yeah. don’t let it get to your head. it’s already big enough.”

“hey!”

“kidding,” you pronounced in a sing-song voice. as happiness spread all over your body, you placed your arms on her shoulders and locked your hands behind her neck. grinning, you brought her closer and kissed her again, and again, and again, and again.

[creativesaturn]

Summary: You can't help but feel sorry for Spencer.

Genre: Light angst , fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Warnings: light angst

Word count: 805

A/N: feeling very lazy today

You stared at the man who's desk was directly in front of yours. The both you being left behind in the bullpen to finish up paper work. But you could hardly focus, not after what you witnessed today.

Spencer was reading a book, completing his papers an hour ago and was now waiting for you, which you didn't quite understand.

But what you couldn't shake all day was how everyone was so mean to him. It was genuinely sad to witness when someone would tell him to stop talking or blow him off like he was dirt.

Spencer looked up from his book, staring back at your face that failed to hide any kind of expression. Your eyebrows knitted together, nostrils flared and your hands holding your head up as you watched him.

He didn't say anything at first, merely letting the both of you keep eye contact in hopes you'd break first. But, when you didn't, he opened his mouth to say, "You okay?" He said, his own brows withering in slight confusion.

His voice snapped you out of your expressed stated, your eyebrows rising and your face finally relaxing, "Yeah! Yeah, sorry.." You muttered, looking away to try and hide from the awkward conversation that was about to happen.

"Is there a.. uh... a reason, you were looking at me?" He asked, not letting his eyes leave you, curiosity eating at him.

You thought for a second, there was, there was a big reason. You just weren't sure if it was the right time to talk about it. But, will there ever be a right time?

You took in a deep breath, letting out a sigh to finally turn back to him, nodding slowly. "Yeah, uhm.." You muttered, looking back down to your hands to find your words.

He stared at you, completely patient, just waiting for you to speak.

"Everyone's just so mean to you, Spence." You blurted, trying not to give yourself time to overthink it.

His eyebrows furrowed at your words, "No one's mean to me?" He spoke, his tone in a questioned manner.

"And you don't even realize it." You scoff with a laugh. But, it wasn't a laugh to express that any of this was funny. It was to express how unbelievable it was.

He stayed silent. His eyes going back to his book with a long lingering silence, trying to find words of his own.

You looked away too, not wanting to overstep and assuming your previous sentence wasn't something he wanted to talk about.

"I do realize it," He finally replied, his eyes off his book but still completely avoiding eye contact.

"I just.." He sighed, "I just convince myself they didn't mean it, or it was a joke. I don't get jokes a lot so it was always easy to tell myself that, 'i just don't get it'." He admitted, sticking the tip of his tongue out to coat his dry lips. His eyes, now unable to look towards you as he admitted something that no one else knew.

You completely understand what he said, your pity for him growing even more as you thought about every word he spoke. "It hurts me to see people walk all over you, Spence." You professed, your eyes studying his body in an attempt at better understanding him.

"I know.." Spencer replied in a mumble, "I just have nothing else to say. If people don't want to hear me talk, it's--" He tried to go on, but his voice cracked, giving up mid sentence on him.

"I want to hear you talk. I would never tell you to shut up, it's not something a good friend does." You went on, trying to finish his sentence for him as you watched his eyes water and the tears threatening to spill.

His eyes finally met yours, his breathing getting heavier as he tried to control the overwhelming urge to cry in front of you.

"You don't have to say anything else." You said to him, "But I swear to God, if someone says anything to you again I won't be able to control myself." You laughed, lightening the mood to see him laugh along with you; which he did.

You stood up from your desk and walked over to him, he looked up at you in confusion but when he watched your arms open for a hug, he quickly obliged. He stood up and let you engulf him in your embrace.

You could hear the faint sniffling that was muffled by your hair, causing your eyes to water too. But, you didn't want to cry. This wasn't about you. This was about the boy who never felt truly liked and was walking around hoping he was just some joke making people laugh.

As if that was the best case scenario.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[cruyuu]

Mr. “I don't feel a thing/I am not human” proceeds to show anger which is a human emotion. The contradictions with Sukuna are still persisting with Yuuji since with all others, he never had that issue. He never acted the same with others like he did and does with Yuuji. After all, the way he responds to love (to admiration) is by killing. He doesn't know what to do nor how to feel with Yuuji.

Still, something that is bothering me a lot is that for someone who is clearly very intent (and yes, that means emotionally invested) on killing everyone just because of Yuuji, it's pretty clear that he's obviously feeling and not incapable of feeling. Now, we can also speculate that he's afraid of being shown pure compassion (the kind Yuuji embodies) after years and years of being feared and being admired for his strength, standing on a pedestal away from everyone's hands. It would be obvious considering how he came into the world and what he did to achieve the status he's proudly wearing now. He's been seen as a monster, as the King of Curses, as a curse for a lot of years. Never as a human.

After all, Sukuna is someone who had survived a lot of years alone, persisted through the Golden Age of Jujutsu and is still persisting in the modern era. Untouchable, unreachable. Unseen and unknown.

And maybe he wants it to remain that way?

Yuuji is asking the right question. Why me? Why invest yourself? Why all that hate? Does it have an answer? He can only feel pity because all that anger is seemingly empty of reason. Sukuna gives no answer for why, only claims that he understands what Yuuji is telling him but feels nothing. Yuuji can't understand that even if he wanted to, which is why he separated them from others and trapped them in this domain in the first place. He still wanted to know why, even if Sukuna is someone he loathes and he admits it to his face.

Now, considering that Sukuna had unusually obliged Yuuji's request and went on a walk with him, with no threats nor attacks which is again quite unusual, and yet only lashed at him when he realized that Yuuji was feeling pity for him– we can conclude what gave Yuuji the idea to give chase, to try and reach him (someone who ruined his life and talk with him despite everything because it's true that Sukuna was there when he was the loneliest, dwelling inside of him and keeping him company), and why he's feeling pity, why he's compassonate towards him.

Yuuji thought there was something hiding behind that hate. Something about him, perhaps. So he shows him a lot of his life (something he never did with anyone btw) and even shares some of his past with him, creates memories with him also, and says that to him, this is what humans are all about. He shows him a different view, hoping it'll change his mind, prompt him to talk.

But that fails. After all: You can admire a blooming flower, but you can't ask it to understand you. Both of them are vastly different from each other, and even if they had rubbed off on each other slightly, they still persist on being who they always were without changing themselves for each other. They're unable to understand each other nor the ways they change each other quite subtly. Yuuji had changed a lot, went from being adamant on not killing to reducing himself to nothing but a curse killer (a cog in the machine) only to embrace that his life is worth something in the end and Sukuna had embraced emotions (even if denying it) when it came to Yuuji, started seeing other people's viewpoints and kept indulging Yuuji even if he was pathetic by his standards. He went all that way to crush his ideals and now is going his way to kill everyone Yuuji loves. He cares, your honor, even if he claims he has no reason behind it.

What's funny to me really is that Yuuji went through all that and wanted to have a conversation with him (he claims he was frantic, meaning he really really wanted to talk) before it really was too late.

He said, “I can kill you but... you can also live if you come back to me.” If anything it just proves Yuuji does actually care about him, even if it isn't said out loud. After all, he took him through his hometown, made memories with him and bared parts of himself he never showed to anyone else and is still giving him a chance. He had Sukuna fish, he had him shoot arrows. Had him be a human and not a jujutsu sorcerer. That cannot be hate.

Just how Sukuna's hatred towards Yuuji is unexplainable, Yuuji's pity towards Sukuna is as well. And that's something only the two of them have. Something nobody can understand, not even them.

[the-little-ewok]

The Little Spoon

Poe Dameron x G/N Reader

Rating: M

Wordcount : 1600 (ish)

Warnings : Fluff, mentions of getting caught during sex/heavy petting, rife with teasing innuendos, soft softness, spooning, brief mentions of food, Poe being an adorable menace.

Prompt / Summary : Burying your face in their neck, listening to their heartbeat, spooning at night. / After a difficult day you and Poe try something new in the bedroom.

A/N : Anon who sent me the prompts - i dont know if fluffy was what you really wanted but… i kinda went pretty fluffy cute with this. If you were hoping more for a NSFW request please send me an ask and i’ll do an alt fic for you :)

If you enjoy this fic please don't just hit the like button. Hit the reblog button and tell me your thoughts! Support your content creators with reblogs!

-------

"Stop!" You half whine, half laugh, burying your face in Poe's neck.

"I don't know if he'll ever be able to talk to you again without blushing!" Poe laughs, clearly finding the fact his newest squad member walking in on you both in a, well, compromising, position, hilariously funny, and your embarrassment even funnier.

Since then poor Leru had been unable to look at you without his cheeks lighting up red, and losing all ability to speak.

"Take it as a compliment it affected him so much," Poe shrugs, taking the whole situation in his stride, as usual. "You can't change what happened, and besides you can't hide out here forever."

'Here' was the grassy bank outside the, what now seemed all too small, base entrance. You had escaped out into the humid night air as soon as your shift was over, convinced everyone you encountered knew the story and was staring at you.

Of course, they already knew that you and Poe were close, but perhaps not quite how close. There had never really been time, during the middle of a war, to consider what you were. And now you were together, both of you wanted to enjoy it without too much fuss. At least while you settled into a new routine, and Poe to his new role as General. So really, getting carried away in what should have stayed an empty office, after Poe had returned from a long mission, was not the best of plans.

But oh, he had been so distractingly hot. The way he'd smiled, his eyes flickering up and down your body, the way he'd pulled you tight against his chest, the way his lips had brushed against your skin.

It was hard to regret what happened. But you did regret getting caught.

"I can stay here as long as I like," you challenge his statement, folding your arms.

"I could just order you back inside," he shrugs with a sigh, making out it would be a huge inconvenience for him to do that.

"You wouldn't dare!" You twist to glare at him in challenge, as Poe leans back to look at you, a serious expression creasing his brow. He slowly raises one eyebrow, before he finally gives in, bursting into laughter.

"No, you're right. I like continuing to live without a vibroblade in my chest, so I guess orders are off the table!" He pulls you back into his arms, holding you tight against him.

"How about I very politely request you come back inside? We can grab some food and get an early night?"

"I don't want to go to the canteen,” you mumble, picking at a loose thread on your trousers, unable to remove the idea that everyone would be judging you.

"You know, I don't think anyone else knows? And even if they did, firstly, it's not like they saw anything personally, just second hand, and secondly, if anyone says a damn word I'll have their ass hauled in front of me faster than they can blink!" Poe states passionately.

"That's sweet. But we agreed on no special treatment."

"Not special. I'd do that for anyone talking inappropriately about anyone. You get absolutely no special treatment. I've never given you any special treatment." Taking your chin he tilts your face towards him before he places a soft kiss against your lips.

"Hmm, so you offer that to everyone, do you?"

"Well, everyone is a little broad. More like a select group. You, Finn, Rey, Snap, BB, that really cute medic we met in Yavin," he shrugs with a teasing smile as you roll your eyes. “Now stop overthinking.”

Poe was right, you were over thinking, and as annoying as his teasing could be, you know it comes from a good place in his heart. He simply wants you to see that it's not all bad. Nothing you could do now would change anything that already happened. All you could do was, as Poe does, make the best of the situation.

Still, the embarrassment gnaws a little at your thoughts, though quieter, still there for now.

"Can we eat in your room?"

"Only if we are naked," Poe grins, making you dissolve into laughter.

"Stop that, right now!" You warn through giggles.

"I've been away for almost a month! I've been storing it all up. You are in for a lonnnnnng night, baby," he winks, and for a moment, you`re laughing so hard you forget anything had gone wrong at all today.

~

"I'm sorry," Poe offers later that night, his fingers trailing up and down your back as you lay in his bed, curled up against his side, his heartbeat drumming in your ear as you lean your head on his chest, half asleep.

You hum in question, wondering what he's talking about.

"Earlier. It was my fault we got caught like that. I should have waited. I was just excited to see you and being impulsive. I’ll try and keep my hands to myself for a little longer next time.”

You lean up on your elbow to look at him, frowning in confusion and feeling the tendrils of guilt in your own belly that he feels he's somehow to blame. The last thing you wanted was for Poe to feel he couldn't be his usual, affectionate self.

"There's nothing you need to apologise for. We were both willing participants. I was excited to see you too. You’ve no idea how much I missed you."

Poe's hand slides around the back of your neck, pulling you down to him as he mumbles, "I missed you too, baby," against your mouth before he kisses you.

When he finally lets you go, you have to take a moment, feeling a little giddy, whether with love or lack of oxygen, you aren't sure.

"Anyway, I like you being impulsive," you assure him with a soft smile.

"Then I rescind my apology," Poe chuckles as you snuggle back down against his side, trying to get comfy again.

Except now you have a problem. No matter where you place yourself, you can't quite get comfy enough to fall asleep. Something just feels wrong.

You let out a noise of annoyance, sitting up.

"Turn over," you instruct, laughing as Poe raises a questioning eyebrow, his lips upturning in a familiar grin.

"Is this going a sex thing? Because you know I can stay awake a little longer. I'm sure I can help tire you o-"

"Get your mind out of the gutter," You laugh, cutting him off and pressing your hands against his arm, trying to manually roll him over, onto his side.

"So it's not a sex thing? I'm disappointed," Poe sighs over dramatically, ignoring your pathetic attempts to move him.

"I want to cuddle you!" You explain with an exasperated sigh.

"Oh, that's what we are calling it these days? Okay, well, we can 'cuddle' as much as you like," he grins, eyes crinkling with amusement as he makes air quotes at you. You make a show of dramatically rolling your eyes in response.

"No, Poe! I mean I want to hold you!"

"Hold which bit?" He wiggles his eyebrows as you try and bite back your laughter. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, telling yourself you are grateful he's home and he just needs to get this out of his system.

When you open them again you fix him with a stern look.

"Alright, alright!" Poe holds his hands up in surrender, clearly deciding he might be pushing too far now. "You want me to be the little spoon?" He asks, obviously having known exactly what you wanted from the first time you asked.

"I want you to be the little spoon." You nod in confirmation. Poe's expression softens from teasing into something that makes your chest ache with love. It's as though the seriousness of the last few years of war drop away, and the boy Poe used to be, stares at you with hopeless adoration.

"I like that idea better," he says simply, before he rolls over with his back to face you. "But I'm still open to the sex thing." He adds, making you snort as you try to contain your laughter, knowing it will only encourage him.

Once Poe is settled, you curl up behind him, wrapping an arm over his chest, tucking your legs in behind his, cuddling up close to him as you press your face between his shoulder blades.

"Don't think I've ever been the little spoon before. I like it," Poe sighs contentedly, his hands resting over yours wrapped around his chest, holding you in place.

You smile and press a soft kiss to his back, "I like it too."

A near silence settles over you both, the only sound in the room your steady breathing as you hold each other. You can feel your eyes finally starting to drift shut, but you also know Poe is not asleep yet, as his fingers continue to gently caress your arm, almost distractedly.

“What are you thinking, Flyboy?” You mumble sleepily against his skin, not wanting to fall asleep if he has something on his mind.

"I was just wondering," he mumbles quietly, “if you think Leru is thinking about us right now?"

"Go to sleep!" You sigh against his back, feeling him shake with barely contained laughter.

"I definitely think he enjoyed it a little bit."

"Sleep!" You hiss, refusing to play into his teasing again.

There's a moment of silence, one in which you think that he's given up with the teasing and finally decided to get some rest. That is until -

"Do you think he wants to join us sometime?"

"POE!"

You can't help but smile as his laughter fills the room. Insufferable, infuriating, pain in the ass. You had missed him, so very much.

--------------

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[pickyourpoisonandevolve]

Boy fucking howdy, the BG3 obsession is real, and so is being unable to sleep. I cranked this out in 20 minutes in an absolute fervor because I’m OBSESSED, as we all are. Please forgive my absence, but let us rejoice that I have been possessed enough to write again.

—————

Admittedly, you all have had better days on the road to Baldur’s Gate. There have been close calls and hard fights, but today has decidedly been the worst. What started as a hopeful descent into the Githyanki Crèche ended in most of your party downed, and watching Laezel’s eyes lose light as she died. Shadowheart thankfully still had the wherewithal to walk you through the scroll you said you’d never had to use, hand in shaky hand. It took you about an hour to detach yourself from her side once you all made it back to camp.

Quiet nods and looks of understanding were sent all around you as you commanded your feet their last few steps to your tent. Gale would take over dinner tonight. Karlach would take care of the owlbear and Scratch. Others would take other duties. You would take care of sitting down on your cot and disassociating before you could unclip both straps of your armor. That’s how Astarion found you anyways.

You had been close, today. Despite the looming threats, you both woke up in cheery spirits. You had gossiped about how Raphael was a scumbag, but a hot one, how Shadowheart and Laezel would definitely make out by the end of this journey, among other things. Once battles had started, you had even found a nice flow physically. Shooting arrows over each others shoulders, stabbing enemies before they could get to the other. Something went wrong along the way. Discussions didn’t seem to go your way. No one you all encountered seemed very convinced of your decisions or leadership. You felt that it had started to infiltrate your team, despite their objections.

But someone had died on your watch. And for that, you’d never forgive yourself.

“Sweetheart, armor comes off before bed, you know.” A little less smug than usual. “He’s worried,” you think in passing. It seemed that his voice came from farther away, until you felt the whisper of his fingers on your shoulder. His way of not wanting to scare you. He’s very familiar with the look in your eyes right now. You have enough energy to finish unbuckling the second clasp before the chest piece falls to the floor with a dull thud. As you extend your torso to stretch properly for the first time today, both sets of eyes fall to a particularly dark red patch in your torso, right underneath your heart. Seems you’ve been stabbed. How long ago is anyone’s guess, but the armor seemed to hold as the worlds worst tourniquet. The volume of voices tune back out as you hear Astarions call for help, the pitch of panic sending you deeper into… something. Not quite nothingness. Not quite enough of something to call it anything. A general state of pain and emptiness.

Two sets of hands lift you enough to lay down on your cot. Voices mill around, but you feel the large hands of Halsin gingerly lift your shirt to begin healing. He leaves you in your bra as he begins his work. He has a way of making his deep booming voice so soothing when he knows you’re in pain. Astarion sits down closer to your face, and has one hand on the side of your cheek. His thumb runs across your cheekbone a little faster than usual, trying to comfort you as well as himself. Halsin has been around this enough that both men don’t seem to be phased, but Astarion starts his mix of worry and chastisement and care. Funny how he can speak so softly and so cutting at the same time.

“How many times have I told you to tell me when you’re hurt? You’re not holding up your end of the bargain,” he says, with no real seriousness. You look over long enough to see his creased brows, but in them, something new. He’s angry at you, for compromising the plan. For compromising his journey. For compromising the trust he put in you for being a team. He’s also mad at himself for not being in front of you to catch the blade.

“You’re no good to me dead, you know. I need you… I need you here.” He says, voice shaky, as Halsin finishes his spell. The newly connected skin is always itchy, so he puts a salve on before he leaves. He puts a large hand on Astarions shoulder and exchange a few words before he leans over and kisses you gently on the temple. He whispers, between the three of you “We’re here to take care of you, my heart. Please allow us to.”

Now that the physical pain has started to subside, the emotions you’ve been pushing down through the day start to bubble up. You start to feel the dirt, the blood, the viscera on your skin. How compressed everything is starting to get. You lean up and start to breathe. A little too fast, a little too heavy. Astarions eyes get wide, he’s seen you stressed but this is something different. You hurry to a nearby abandoned building near camp while he stays behind a step, a little stunned.

Normally this would be the time he freezes, unsure of emotions, unsure how to help. But it’s usually him that’s going through something like this. It’s usually you who calms him down, brings him back to center. What has he done to make you feel like this?

You sit in the corner of a decrepit old rampart. Panic attacks haven’t been prevalent for quite some time. You don’t hear him, once again until he’s next to you. You notice your cot and some creature comforts set up a few feet away. A few curtains strewn to block out the inevitable morning sun. Some candles for light.

“Thought you might like some alone time tonight.” He says, voice deep and steady and sure of himself. For someone so lithe and nimble, you forget he can lift you in his arms. And he does settling you in bed, sitting while you feel him taking his shirt off and leaning you against his chest. The skin on skin contact, you’ve found, comforts him as much as it comforts you.

The shock of Astarion moving with such assuredness brings you a little bit back to surface. You clear your throat and say “I’m sorry for troubling everyone. Today was a little hard for me.” Your voice breaks a little at the end, and so does your resolve as you cry, letting the emotions of the day out.

He runs fingers through your hair and turns you into his chest as you release all your worry from the day. “You know, I honestly don’t know how you’ve kept it together this far, my sweet.” He brings his face to the side of yours, steadying your breathing and letting his breath warm your neck. “I haven’t had to be strong for anyone… well, other than myself. But I didn’t even do a good job then. You’re so much more than you know. To them. To me.” He lays a field of kisses to the side of your face and neck while his arms surround you, fingers lacing together. “I… don’t know how to do this part. I don’t know how to be good at this. To comfort. But I do know I’ve never been more torn apart when you’re in pain. Please. Let me… try. Let me try to be good at this.”

Chest heaving, you look up and take his mouth into yours. You kiss deeply, letting it say all the things you’re too tired to say. Too tired to thank him for. He seems to understand, as he cradles your face in his palm. A kiss that’s said more than you’ve said to each other for weeks.

As sleep overtakes you, he brings you into his chest, arm circling your shoulder.

The last burst of energy wouldn’t allow your mouth to say it, but Astarion felt the tadpole twitch with the three words you two had been dancing around for some time. If his heart still beat it would keep him up for the rest of the night. In hope. In anticipation to say it back. But you two were together. Alive. There would be time for I love yous in the morning.

[heeheesang]

sunghoon's bodyguard era | 𝗰𝗼-𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿𝘀

warnings ! two mentions of the word 'slut' , fans breaking in , yn faces trauma

"hoon..?" i spoke into the phone as sunghoon picked up the call. i was currently at my lift lobby in the dorm building, "ynnie? anything wrong? i'm already getting ready to go out."

i nervously laughed into the phone as i eyed the crowd that looked like they were going to break in the building any minute, "funny story... i can't get out. they're all blocking the entrance of the building,"

sunghoon giggled into the phone before answering, "just stay there okay? i just came to your building."

"o-okay, come safely..!" i stuttered nervously, hanging up as i saw the mob of people getting bigger and bigger.

gosh, even my manager couldn't get in to take me. manager kku even warned me about the crowd before i went down, oh this is bad... but i assured her saying we'll be on time at mubank because i'll get out one way or another.

not too long later the door suddenly opened and the mob looked like they managed to come in. in a hurry, i ran to the nearest janitor's closet and closed my eyes as i hoped for the best.

sunghoon where are you...

i heard footsteps run by and i just closed my eyes harder, a few tears threatening to come out as i covered my mouth. a few seconds later, i heard footsteps come into the janitors room.

"ynnie, it's me. let's go..?" upon hearing the familiar voice, i opened my eyes and saw sunghoon. feeling relieved, i engulfed him in a big hug as i let out a few tears on his shirt.

"don't cry, you're safe now. i'll do everything i can to protect you, i promised you." he lifted my face up and wiped my tears with his thumbs.

at this point i wasn't even thinking straight, i was just too scared to even notice what he was doing or saying. he intertwined his hand with mine and walked out, with me trailing behind him.

"don't block us! move away! stay away from yn!" sunghoon yelled as soon as he saw that the crowds were getting closer and closer to us.

"what a slut..! holding sunghoon's hand—"

"what did you call yn? repeat it again, i dare you." sunghoon was angry, very, i could tell by the way his face was turning red. despite him being angry, his grip on my hand was light, yet strong.

soon enough, we arrived at the car and we were brought in immediately as the doors opened.

i looked down on my lap as soon as we sat down. i couldn't bare hearing the words in real life, i never expected them to actually say it... a few tears drop down my cheeks and sunghoon was quick to notice.

he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and stroked the side of my head, mumbling words such as, "you're better than this yn," "don't let them get to you," "i'll always be here for you."

after sniffles and sobs, i slowly began to feel tired. and that's how i fell asleep in sunghoon's arms while we make our way to mubank.

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hhs’ notes! sunghoon appreciation chapter..! my heart did tons of twists and turns writing this HOOOO also my apologies for this late chap ㅠㅠ and the length of it ㅠㅠ ntmy — nice to meet you,, ntmyt— nice to meet you too

error !! slide 4— it's got mobbed not his mobbed.. i messed it up im sorry😭

taglist (open !! do leave a comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist !!)

in orange — unable to tag :(

@sleepyzce @seunghancore @sngleehee @kookify @rikitachiquita @yourssincerely-mimi @sol3chu @erisasleep @yawn-zi @coffeeprincejaehyun @dreeki

[coryosmin]

Ooooooo!!!! Could u do SnowJanus x Jealous Reader where someone was flirting with both boys and she gets upset and they notice so show her who they belong to with some smut🤭🤭

-🐍

nsfw | mdni (in a world where sej goes to the university giggles), illusions to smut

you guys were at a party for the university. dr gaul was celebrating the accomplishments of her students and therefore, coryo was required to attend. and being his girlfriend, you attended alongside your other boyfriend, Sejanus. coryo and sej were talking to people within the event, all important people of course. and as they did so, one of coryo’s fellow classmates who’s also studying under dr gaul began to very clearly flirt with both sej and coryo.

she was gripped their arms, laughing too hard at their jokes. you could help but frown. only you could do that to your boys. they’re only yours after all. you were definitely jealous.

so later on, when the three of you went home to your shared apartment, you were grumpy. you weren’t sure if they picked up on it or not, talking amongst the themselves about the people they’ve met at the party. you didn’t speak as sejanus unlocked the apartment. you walked in first, immediately going to the bedroom and closing the door behind you.

which definitely caused them to be concerned. sejanus frowned but offered to coryo that maybe you were just overwhelmed and needed time to yourself. but coryo shook his head, exclaiming that you seemed upset. so they walked into the bedroom as well, seeing you stripping out of your dress. you were wearing a pastel pink lingerie set, one that coryo had gifted out a few days ago.

“darling,” coryo spoke softly, walking up to you. you were struggling with the zipper of your dress so coryo unzipped it for you, letting the material fall onto the floor. “what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing his hands up to undo your necklaces.

you had a pout on your lips as sejanus walked into the room as well. he moved to stand in front of you. “did we do something to upset you?”

you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. “yes.” you admitted. because ultimately, communication is huge in a relationship, especially one where three people are involved.

coryo finished undoing your necklaces, gently taking them off of your neck as he brought them over to your jewelry box, putting them away. he walked back over to you, wrapped his arms around your waist. “what did we do, darling?” he murmured, press in a kiss to your shoulder.

you frowned, still pouting. “allowed some girl to flirt with the both of you.” you mumbled, slightly embarrassed by how jealous you are. maybe it’s because now they’re both doing on you. sejanus had wrapped his arms around your waist as well, hugging you from the front as coryo and sej intertwined their arms together.

“we allowed some girl to flirt with us?” sej asked into your ear. “what makes you say that?” he asked, looking into your eyes.

“that girl that coryo works with in dr. gaul’s lab,” you spoke more clearly. “she was all over the both of you, laughing at your stupid jokes that really weren’t that funny. it-she wanted you.” you explained, furrowing your eyebrows. “only i can have you.” you added quietly.

coriolanus chuckled in your ear, unable to help himself. “sej, isn’t she so cute?” he teased, looking at his boyfriend. “she’s jealous.”

sej gave coryo a sharp look, narrowing his eyes at the blond. “don’t tease her, coryo. she’s genuinely upset.” he exclaimed, moving his gaze back onto you. “princess, you have nothing to worry about. we only want you.”

coryo hummed, nodding his head as he pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck. “i could only ever imagine myself with you and sej. everyone else is beneath me, darling.” he murmured into your ear.

the two men pulled away from you slightly, enough to look at you fully. their arms left your body. and coryo moved to stand next to sej. “should we show you that we belong to you?”

you nodded your head. sej and coryo each took one of your hands, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. and as soon as you sat down, coryo got on his knees in front of you. “we’re gonna make you feel so good, darling. so good that you’ll have no doubts in your mind that we are wholeheartedly belonging to you.” he murmured, pressing kisses along your upper leg and thigh.

sejanus positioned himself behind you, pressing your back against his chest. “yes, we’re going to make you feel fantastic, princess. we could never belong to anyone but you.”

and that night, they indeed showed you that they belong to only you and no one else.

[mockerycrow]

UNDERCOVER VII (Soap x GN!Reader)

undercover series masterlist — previous | next

summary: taking a break from telling your experiences, Soap and you spend the day together. He takes you from your room as to allow you to see more. Unfortunately for the both of you, Soap didn't bother to inform anyone of this decision. 3.8k words.

a/n: HELLO!!! YES!!! you are not imagining things! chapter seven is FINALLY out. i went on two separate impromptu hiatuses and i am going on another one at the end of this month until around november, so i wanted to get this out for y’all. i appreciate all of y’all’s patience. i love you guys. during this flashback/ptsd attack, bolted italics are present when characters are speaking russian. [THIS DOES NOT FOLLOW REBOOT MW CANON.]

[WARNINGS; light fluff(!!!), ptsd, death/suicide ideation, angst, hospital setting, death and gore, reader is not a good person morally, military inaccuracies, overall TRIGGER WARNING.]

“Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?” ― Clarice Lispector.

Lucky for me, my internal request about being left alone was granted. I skipped a meal, despite the worried glare of the main nurse taking care of me. I’m sure they wanted to put the feeding tube back into my throat—they surely looked like it. Or was that the look of genuine worry? Did I forget what it looked like? When I woke up this morning, they certainly made sure I got some food in me. I appreciate the nurses and the doctors and their efforts in taking care of me. I recognize I cannot be an easy patient by any means; whether that means the paperwork, the security… My behavior? I applaud them.

I wish I could get them a gift or something. Maybe once I’m out of their care. Is that weird?

I’ve always woken up pretty early—courtesy of Makarov’s strange routines—so when I woke up and didn’t see Soap by my side, I wasn’t too surprised. He probably has drills and routines of his own. Woke up, ate breakfast which looked absolutely immaculate, however I’m in a very weird.. flux right now. I’m not sure how to exactly describe it, but the food looked great but felt like flavorless blobs. Perhaps my tastebuds are deceiving me, or what they gave me was just pure shit. Hm.

Before he left last night, Soap assured me today was a rest day. I couldn’t help myself, but I winced at his statement. It probably wasn’t for my benefit, but for theirs. Any information I have can be a lot of paperwork, a lot of.. Meetings, I guess. I don’t know. I’m bitter, but I’m grateful for the break. 

By the time 0900 rolled around, Soap strolled into my room. Fucker had the brightest smile on his face, his lip curling just enough to expose his gum around his right upper canine. “Back on babysitting duty?” I ask, my tone flatter than usual. Soap chuckles, his boots clicking against the waxed tile as he approaches my bedside. My eyes scan his attire; dark grey t-shirt, tucked into a dark grey pair of cargo pants and regular boots. Belt, holster with the gun. Huh, surprising. My eyes glance back up at his face as Soap spoke.

“Don’ be like that, aye? Ye don’t hafta think of it like that.” Soap insists, his hand grabbing my shoulder, gently might I add. I huff—his touch burns until he removes his hand. “Look, I’m sure ye don’t want t’be held in here all day. I have an idea.” He proposes with a twinkle in his eyes. I raise an eyebrow, unable to disguise how intrigued I actually am. “Oh?” I ask, my voice low like earlier. There’s a funny feeling in my stomach. Soap throws his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the stationary wheelchair that’s remained in the corner since last night. “Why don’t we take a walk?” 

My lip curls for a moment, my eyes darting between him and the wheelchair. “You mean ‘wheel around’?” I raise an eyebrow, poking fun at him. Soap lets out a tsk and shakes his head. “Haud yer wheesht.” Soap utters before turning around, crouching down to unlock the wheels of the wheelchair. “Jokes on you, I dunno what that means.” I reply snarkily, unable to keep the smile out of my voice. “It means ‘shut up’.” He replies as if he’s gracing me with great information.

I roll my eyes, cautiously pushing the blankets down off of my legs. I wince for a moment and Soap’s legs as well as the wheelchair come into view as I get myself settled. “I’ll wheel ya, you just need t’hold the.. The fuckin’ IV thing.” Soap mutters, gesturing to the IV pole. “Soap.” I say, my tone flat.

He looks back at me with his big blue eyes—all innocent like. Fucker. “It’s a pole to hold IV bags on. So, what is it called?” I ask him like he’s a child, my tone high pitched and overly nice. Soap’s face tints pink and taps the wheelchair with his foot, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “You have an attitude, might I say.” Soap lets out a nervous laugh; he’s embarrassed and nothing is making me happier than this moment right now. I grunt as I allow Soap to help me into the wheelchair. My legs happen to be fine, but my stomach and ribs are still quite tender and sore.

“It’s called an IV pole, Soap.”

“Jesus Christ, I know.”

I hate to admit it, but Soap is a pretty good babysitter. I don’t think many people would willingly take me out of my room and help me get some fresh air, at least not like this. We’ve gone a couple of laps around the ward I’m allowed to roam and in a way, I’m appreciative of him allowing me to grasp more of the area I’m in. I wonder if he’s ever been in my position, or has known someone to be in a similar position? Bedbound, anxious? …Paranoid?

I wonder.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts as I hear a light beep from my right. I turn my head to where my IV pole, the little electronic box attached to it is lit up. “Hm?” Soap hums, his eyes trailing to where I’m looking. He grabs the pole and spins it towards himself, eyes scanning over the screen. Soap’s lips part for a second in understanding, but my eyes stay on the scar hidden underneath his mess of stubble. “Jus’ administerin’ more painkillers. It’s on a timer.”

I force myself to look away with a nod. I nearly slip back into my thoughts when I feel Soap begin to pull the wheelchair backwards. My eyes widen and I quickly grab the IV pole to drag along. I twist my head to face him the best I can despite the screw in my jaw. “Where are we going? My room’s just down the hall.” I question, turning my head, watching the door get smaller in size. Soap hums, turning the wheelchair around to push to where he was pulling it. He doesn’t answer me.

My fingers twitch around the IV pole and I quickly stop myself. Stop. Soap would’ve hurt me already if he wanted to. He has a pistol in the holster against his hip right on his belt. If he were to wish to hurt me, he would’ve already spilled my brains. Shut the fuck up.

Like you spilled hers?

What?

I blink, a beat passes, and we’re in a different hallway. One I haven’t seen before. “Soap..?” I ask louder, my heart fluttering in my chest. I’m getting nervous. Soap bends down to my ear; I can feel the wheelchair adjust under the added weight on the handles. “S’alright, just goin’ to take a longer walk. New areas, fresher air.” Soap murmurs, his breath brushing against my ear. I let out a harsh breath as he stood up straight, and.. And that fucker is humming. “Is this even allowed?” I ask, my voice quiet as my eyes dart around.

Soap lets out a laugh, slowing down a bit with his walking. “Does it matter? I’ve done much worse, this is nothin’.” 

“I don’t want to get in trouble,” I protest, but my protests are clearly weak because the bastard continues to push me down the hall. Soap lets out an amused chuckle, one of his hands coming down on my shoulder, squeezing it through my hospital gown. I flinch a bit as I didn’t expect him to touch me. “Ye’ll be fine. I’ll take the fall if it comes down to it.” His touch was gentle.

I go to argue with him again because it’s likely that it wouldn't work and wouldn’t matter, but I decide against it. Only then does his hand return to the other handle of the wheelchair. 

That’s one thing I’ve noticed about men like Soap. They’re much more touchy than you would think they would be. Most folks think that military men would have an aversion to touch, they think that these men are the epitome of their versions of masculinity. Men like Soap, though? They have no problems giving each other a hug, have no quarrels giving each other a forehead bump with each other. Hell, when you’re stuck in the middle of a blizzard, you don’t get choices; you huddle and cuddle, or you fucking die.

Soap’s touch, though.. His hand was heavy, big. Radiating heat like a portable heater through my hospital gown. It makes me wonder if his teammates are the same? They’re all in one task force, they must have seen some shit together, been through shit together. Hm. 

Soap could’ve survived the harsh winters I had been through due to him. 

Maybe. Maybe not.

I shouldn’t keep thinking of him right now, not when I don’t have to, but he won’t fucking leave my brain. I can almost hear his voice sometimes and it’s absolutely nauseating. I can’t say that I was the closest to him, but I was pretty damn up there in his ranks. I was always a go-to for a multitude of things. Things I no longer wish to fucking remember. Maybe he should’ve ended me right now. Maybe I should’ve finished the job when I got the chance.

His men were kind of touchy which was never surprising to me. Being under harsh conditions together, relying on each other to keep the other safe? It creates a bond like no other. They tended to be touchy with me in due time, too. I’m not sure how I was able to handle it for so long. Every brush of their hands on my shoulders, every shoulder and elbow bump, it felt like hot irons painfully maiming my skin, branding me for everything I’ve done.

He was touchy at times, too. It made me wanna vomit. 

..Well, now it does. At the moment, though, not really. Which just.. Makes everything worse. One part of me wishes I refused the assignment. I truly fucking feel like I should’ve. Now he’s everywhere in my life, invading the parts he was never supposed to be in. It’s not like I exactly expected this assignment to go incredibly smoothly, no. That’s quite frankly really fucking stupid to do, but I at least expected this to be smoother than it has been. Perhaps that’s been my flaw this entire time, I’m not sure. 

With him, you can never know. That’s one thing that I had to learn pretty damn quick. If you thought you knew what his plans were, you better backtrack five steps and rethink it all because you are definitely not on the right track. I guess that’s one thing I can give him; he’s always been intelligent, so much so to an annoying degree. With every report I gave, it felt like everything I was finding out was contradictory to my previous report. Even now, is the information I’m giving the 141 accurate? 

I’m not even sure anymore, not after the fact that he left me alive in that warehouse. I seriously doubt he left me alive for a reason. He’s the one who’s always put two in the head to make sure the person was dead. That’s perhaps the singular good thing he ever taught me.

I feel those leathers hands on my shoulders in my dreams.

There’s a touch on my shoulder and I jolt out of my thoughts, jerking my shoulder away, causing a lightning bolt of pain to pulse through my arm. I hiss, my hand grabbing my shoulder. “Shit,” Soap’s voice filters through my ears, and it does little to calm my pounding heart. When did it start pumping this hard..? “Are ye alrigh’? Didnae mean to startle you.” 

Fucking hell.

My hand is on my chest, feeling the desperate pound underneath. I realize I haven’t answered him and I give him a little nod. “Just startled me, is all.” I croak out. It takes me a second to look around, to get my bearings. “Was worried for a sec, was talkin’ an’ ya didn’t respond. Couldn’t tell if you were spaced out or ignorin’ me.” Soap jests. We’re still in a hallway, but possibly a different wing?--- The hallway of my ward had a long red strip in the middle of the wall, following the hallway. The stripe on this wall is yellow. I need to focus and pay attention, Jesus Christ. 

“Was thinking,” I utter. “Sorry.”

“About?” Soap begins to push the wheelchair again; my fingers twitch around the IV pole. How am I supposed to explain that? Do I lie? Do I tell the truth? 

How am I supposed to tell him I was thinking about him?

“Just..” I begin, my lip twitching as I rack my brain for an excuse. “I had a—”

“OI!”

I flinch at the booming voice from down the hall, jolting so hard in my wheelchair it scoots forward a bit. My free hand instinctively forms into a fist as suddenly, it was an empty hall and now I’m back in a fucking warehouse with a pistol in my hands. The, the fucking smell of the warehouse burns my nose, the concrete floor caked in blood and somebody’s organs—looks like a kidney, honestly. I don’t fucking know, what the fuck is happening? My hand is shaking; my finger is still on the trigger. My hand is vibrating. I pulled it, didn’t I? I glance forwards where the puddle is and there’s two bodies. I don’t.. I don’t remember their names, but fucking hell. 

“Don’t fret over them. They lived and died like the dogs they were.”

‘They were fucking human beings! They had lives, fucking friends and family, aspirations! Don’t tell me who and what to not fret over, you fucking freak!’ I try to scream at him—he’s behind me. My mouth opens and it’s moving, but nothing is leaving. I cough and choke, dropping the pistol, which rattles against the ground with a clank. My throat is tight and I reach for it, my eyebrows furrowed. I pull my fingers back and they’re slick and hot with my blood.

Fuck. FUCK. 

I blink; he stands in front of me, holding the pistol. His fucking.. Leather gloves, holding the grip, his finger hovering over the trigger. Am I dreaming? 

Please fucking tell me I’m dreaming.

The gun is aimed at my head and my hands naturally raise upwards—fuck, I can’t stop shaking! Cold sweat drips down my temple—he aims at my stomach and the pistol fires, so loud that my ears ring. I flinch, and I feel horrible bile bubble up in my throat as fierce, hot pain lights up my stomach. I try to talk but that vomit decides to bubble and hurl out of my mouth. I bend over, my eyes filling with hot tears.

It hurts—it hurts so fucking bad and none of this makes sense. 

It fucking burns.

I blink—and I gasp, and suddenly I’m back in the hospital. My vision is blurring, I’m laying down on something—it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts—

“I know it does, I know.” A deep voice says. Soap? 

..M–

No, it’s Soap. Soap.

It isn’t him.

There’s hands on my wrists, holding them down at my sides as someone wraps something around my head, something bumping against my nostrils. I feel vomit bubble out of my mouth and—then it’s dark.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been out, but my head fucking hurts. And so does my stomach.. And my back… and my jaw. Along with everything else.

I feel myself laying on a plush surface; there’s some soft beeping present, too. My throat aches and I find it hard to open my eyes. It takes a few minutes, definitely. Once I’m able to open my eyes, I squint to adjust my eyes to the room. The familiar room comes into focus with the red stripe in the room; it’s dark, it’s night-time. My hand comes up to my face, feeling an oxygen tube on my nose. I groan softly and I try to move my other hand, but something is restricting it..?

Don’t tell me.

I lift my head and I look down. My heart drops, seeing one of my wrists shackled back to the railing of the hospital bed via handcuffs. I swallow some spit that accumulated in my mouth before letting my head drop back down onto the pillow. It did nothing to soothe the ache in my throat. “Fuck.” I croak out. Of course—I lose privileges. For something that wasn’t my fault.

I’m alone.

Moments like these make me wish I could retreat into my mind and hide like I did when I was in that warehouse, or when I had committed violent crimes for him. I could blink one moment and I would be in a different room. There’s probably a lot that I don’t remember—I’m not sure how my recounts will be useful. Maybe it’s because when it comes to Makarov, it’s not like he’ll be subjected to an international court.

If they get their hands on the monster, they’ll kill him. Torture him, maybe. I don’t know. Nobody follows rules all of the time, that’s for sure.

I hear the hospital door swing open and my eyes immediately flicker over to it—I see Soap walk in with two plates of food. His eyes glance over to me and he lights up for a moment before he looks a bit somber. “Hey, you’re awake.” Soap utters; his voice is a special type of soft. Guilt, probably. “Yeah.” I respond quietly, my handcuffed hand twitching a bit. He walks over and grabs the rolling over-bed tray, carefully rolling it over my lower body. My eyes track his movements as he does. Soap sets the plate down before clicking a button on my bed, slowly sitting up the head of it.

I glance down at the food. I’m definitely hungry, but I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to hold down. I wince, the pain jaw aching from the angle change. “Sorry.” Soap murmurs, his own plate of food in one hand, the other reaching back to drag a chair closer to my bed. I just hum, closing my eyes for a moment in an attempt to calm the throbbing in my jaw. My eyes open after a moment and I look at the food once more. Definitely more appetizing now, and I notice Soap only got light foods, stuff you can hold down with an upset stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Soap utters, leaning closer, picking at his food. I look at him, seeing how his brow is furrowed and he’s kind of pouting. My lip twitches from the display. He looks up from his plate to me, lifting his plastic fork to dig it into the fat of his lower frowning lip. “You were right, y’know? Handcuffed ‘cause of me.” He mumbles, letting out a sigh. He seems genuinely apologetic, and a bit guilty for what happened earlier. 

“Partially my fault,” I respond, trying to minimize the movement of my jaw. “Had a little freak out. I don’t do so well with yelling, it seems.”

“So you say.” Soap immediately quips before he sinks down a little. “Too much?”

“Just a bit.”

He nods in response, eating a little piece of overly cooked steak. “Got it.” Soap chews it and swallows it, eyeing me. “Not eatin’, hm? Pain?”

I let out a tense sigh and I mutter a quick, “yeah”. Without missing a beat, Soap leans over and clicks the nurse button in order for a nurse to come to my room. “Bit weird, I thought it was on a dispensary timer.” He responds, but gives a shrug. His eyes scan my face, which causes me to look away for a moment because his eye contact is, I don’t know. It’s bothering me right now. “Do ye want t’talk about what happened?” Soap questions. I can hear food in his mouth.

Do I want to talk about what happened? Would it be for the record?

“I don’t know.” I respond honestly. “I barely remember it.” That isn’t exactly a lie. “It makes me feel like I’m losing it if I do.”

I glance at Soap and he takes a moment to process my words, chewing whatever's stuffed into his mouth from his plate. “Everybody has their demons, [name],” Soap murmurs, his voice deep and gritty. His words hold a heavy weight to them, and I feel a metaphorical weight on my chest for a second. “There’s no shame.”

I let out a huff. “I’m not the first, and I won’t be the last, huh?” I mumble. “Aye.” Soap responds. He goes to speak once more, but a nurse, the one from the beginning, walks in with a concerned face. “What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice tight. I swallow hard. “My, uh, jaw.. Everything else, it all hurts.” I try to explain, trying to keep my voice steady but there’s an uncomfortable croak to it.

I watch the nurse walk over to the IV pole and fiddle with the lines. I then close my eyes and lay my head back against the pillow properly, the nausea kind of getting to me. I have this uncomfortable, empty feeling in my belly and it’s almost anxiety inducing. Maybe it’s from anxiety in general. I don't know. 

How do you recover from something like this? Do I deserve to recover from something like this? After everything that I’ve done in the name for the “greater good”, something both my handler and Makarov told me.. Two sides to the same coin. Was all of the bloodshed and death worth it? 

Was any of it worth it?

Maybe this is something I’ll be thinking about until I die. Hell, I really did think I would die before coming back here. I thought maybe one day I would slip up on a random loyalty test Makarov would administer and he would be done with me right then and there. I wonder if dying then would’ve been better? Oh, I slipped up and failed my mission, I wouldn’t have to be here to suffer the consequences.

Maybe that’s why I am still here. To suffer any consequence of what I’ve contributed to, and done. I wonder if they will still see use, or value in me once they get the information they need from me. Will they discard me like a toy so easily just as Makarov had? Breaking someone is easy, but it depends on how good someone is able to put the pieces back together. I’m certainly broken, even though I don’t want to think about it.

But will they be able to put the pieces back together?

..Will I?

The pain in my jaw eases as well as my ribs and stomach. I think I can eat now.

🏷️; @hardnutpost @glitterypirateduck @elowynnlane @boycigs @wolfyland07 @escapefromrealitysm @tapioca-marzipan @cj-theyoungling @fullmoon-94 @gothgirl6-6-6 @thriving-n-jiving @paniniii @calloumii @the-spartan-himself @bi-witch-bxtch @dammn-dean @jinxxangel13 @meimhem @hannathetrololol-blog @kool-aidd @aliendous @roarndoodles @supernaturalstilinski @blob-11 @cumbermovels @jisungfanpage @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @p3achfairy @darling006 @nyushkawritesstuff @pepsicolacoochie

this is my undercover series taglist. if you wish to be tagged, let me know. if you are wrongfully tagged or no longer want to be, let me know! absolutely no hard feelings.

[the-guilty-writer]

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Request from @steveharringtonsgirl04: Hey! I have a request you can totally say not to it but it just keeps coming back in my head lol  soo dad hotch x teen reader where she just wants her dad to hold her :( like all the hotch hugs so he takes her to the BAU and nobody knows he has a daughter btw I absolutely adore your writing it’s literally my favorite!

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

Summary: Hard days are always made better by Hotchner hugs.

A/N: I fully admit that I am lacking in creativity at the moment and I don’t love the “secret family” trope, so this is just short and fluffy Hotch being the best dad

CW: reader gets her period, mentions of vomiting, suggestion that reader’s mother is Haley but could always be adopted or from another relationship

---

“Everyone has his day and some last longer than others.”

Well, you were having your day. And it was bad. Before the lunch bell rang for the day you’d already gotten a terrible night sleep, had Jack spill juice on your favorite top, been late for class, gotten locked out of your locker, tripped over your own feet causing you to face plant in front of the upperclassmen, and gotten your period.

It was safe to say that you were having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

You riffled through your backpack, looking for the bottle of Advil to ease the cramps, but when you found it, it was empty. You cursed under your breath.

Terrible. Horrible. No Good. Very Very Bad Day.

With the knowledge that you’d be unable to get through the rest of the day without being in pain, you swallowed your pride and went to the nurse’s office.

“I’m going to have to call a parent or guardian to bring you something,” the older lady told you. “It’s against school policy for me to give students medication without a doctor's note. Is there someone I can call?”

Usually the answer would have been Jessica, but for once she was the guardian who was out of town.

“Yeah, um, my dad,” you said.

The nurse gave you a sympathetic look and left. She came back a few minutes later. “He’s on his way,” she informed you.

Feeling exhausted and uncomfortable, all you could do was nod.

---

When Hotch walked into the nurse’s office an hour later, he thought you might be on the verge of vomiting. While you tried to look as stoic as him, the paleness of your face gave away how you were actually feeling, and the guilt that he couldn’t get there sooner made his heart sink.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted you, sitting next to you on the cot. He pulled a bottle of Advil from his pocket and handed it to you.

“Thanks.” Your hands were slow but your voice was grateful. “Sorry you had to drive all the way here.”

“No need to apologize.” He kissed your forehead before you downed the pills. You leaned into him slightly and he wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

“‘S not your fault,” your voice was muffled by his suit. You leaned into him and he held you gladly. Just like your mom, you’d always liked hugs, even more so when you hurt.

“Do you want to come to work with me?” he asked. “You can come lay on the couch in my office for the rest of the day.”

You didn’t even question it. “Yes, please."

He signed you out at the front desk. You got a few funny looks, probably doubts that your cramps were really bad enough that you needed the rest of the day off school, but nobody was going to question the glock on your dad's hip or the ID on his shirt.

He helped you into the car, always showing you how any future partner you have should treat you. By the time he climbed into the drivers side, you were already slumped against the door, fast asleep. A gentle smile crept over Hotch’s face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, careful not to wake you, and then began driving to the office at Quantico.

---

“Do you need anything?” Your dad asked before he sat down at his desk.

You were curled up on the couch in his office, a warm cup of tea on the small table in front of you and a fuzzy blanket. Halfway through the drive, your dad had stopped to get your favorite food. You had your laptop out so you could relax and watch your favorite movies. Really, you had everything.

“A hug?” you requested. That was the one thing he’d never say no to. He sat beside you on the couch and pulled you into a hug- the safest feeling in the world. As he let go, he kissed your forehead and then pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

You put the headphones on and turned on the movie. Your dad began his paperwork.

It was no longer a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

[cazzyf1]

My favourite/interesting quotes from: Jim Clark Portrait of a Great Driver

"One winter afternoon when I was down there Clark explained that we had to listen for an aircraft around 4.0 p.m. as Colin Chapman, his wife and Jimmy's girl friend Sally Stokes were due to arrive. Chapman had never flown to the farm before and I remember raising an eyebrow when Clark explained how he had told Colin to find the farm. "I told him to fly to Berwick-on- Tweed and then along the line of the River Tweed from the mouth at Berwick. When he saw the first red barns on the north side he was to circle the house until he saw signs of life." At 4.0 p.m. we went outside and scanned the skies but there was no sign of action. At 4.20 p.m. there was the distant sound of an aircraft and we gazed at the slowly darkening skies and finally saw it, a speck in the distance flying in the wrong direction. Immediately Clark scrambled into a Ford Galaxie-Chapman's car, actually and we shot down the narrow farm road, through the esses near the main road junction and turned for Berwick. We had just set off and had reached about 70 m.p.h. when the 'plane suddenly turned and flew towards us. Clark flashed the headlights and Chapman dipped the wings in acknowledgement. A hand brake turn and we were zooming back past the farm and up a side road to the edge of a field filled with sheep. Clark whistled on his dog, jumped the five bar gate and lit out after the sheep with the dog at his heels. Between them they rounded the sheep up and sent them off to the far side of the field whilst Chapman made a couple of passes. On the third he almost touched down then flew off. "He's gone to Winfield", said Clark. So it was back into the Galaxie for another dash across country to the disused airfield, sometime circuit where Clark had run in some sprints in the earliest days of his motor sports career. There we pocked up Chapman and his passengers" - p25-27 Graham Gauld

"In general layout the farm had changed little over the years and it had a family ghost. This was the Grey Lady who Jimmy claimed to have seen when he was very young and taken for his mother. But, on the following morning his mother said she hadn't been near his room. Since then a number of people have been visited by the ghost. Once, when Jimmy and I were preparing some notes for his autobiography, we had a wild session with Jackie Stewart and Paddy Hopkirk. As we talked into the small hours it was decided that Stewart and I would share one room, while Paddy slept in another. Jackie and I thought it was all very funny because we believed that Jimmy had put Paddy into the haunted room but in fact we were told in the morning that we had been sleeping in it..." p27 Graham Gauld

"Clark was the world's worst passenger in any car, in any circumstances with any driver! Indeed, I can only think of one occasion in which I drove him, and then he was kind enough not to comment but just smile wanly every so often" - p46 Graham Gauld

"He once remarked that Indy would be "...fine without the Americans" but in time he made a number of friends over there" - p52 Graham Gauld

"Though to the end he was still a kindly person to those whom he allowed into his confidence, he occasionally displayed a petulance and spite which was generally uncharacteristic. To some people he was cruel, but admist this cruelty one felt that Clark was trying to punish himself for being unable to explain himself. Indeed, if he had an unfulfilled wish, it was to be understood by everyone, but to ask that was to ask for the impossible" - p73 Graham Gauld

"During those times it was a very hard job getting him to believe in himself" - p82 Ian Scott Watson

"The little things you remember are his smile, the way his whole face lit up, and his springy walk and the way he bit his nails. He was an incessant nail biter, which completely baffled me; although he had a slightly nervous disposition this completely dropped when he stepped into a racing car" - p90 Graham Hill

"Whenever I was driving he was either biting his nails or fast asleep. When he was awake there was the occasional sharp intake of breath and the odd remark 'For God's sake, look out'. He was a very nervous passenger. It must have been particularly agonising for him to sit beside me doing 800 miles in thirteen hours or so. When he was driving and made the odd mistake he could never understand why I didn't say anything and he used to say 'For God's sake say something' We were just different that is all" - p91 Graham Hill

"In personal matters, he was not a great one for revealing too much, ans he was a bit clam-like which I think may have been a Scottish trait in him? He was canny, and didn't go around saying too much to people. Very often you found out he had been somewhere or done something, which you would have never known about just talking to him" - p92 Graham Hill

"They were called the Terrible Twins, the Poison Dwarfs and many other ames. But at the height of their friendship they were inseparable" - about Jim and Jackie

"It was also at this time that I started to live in John Whitmore's flat in London with Jimmy. From that day on we called it the Scottish Embassy" - p101 Jackie Stewart

"Though Jim led something of a monastic life, I must say that put there he was a real swinger, living a very busy life" - p101 Jackie Stewart

"In fact we spent so much time with one another that we became known at Batman and Robin - and I kept calling him Robin" - p102 Jackie Stewart

"Jimmy Clark was also very nationalistic, indeed we both had this trait and we were quite sincere about it. It really had to be Scottish. If anything came up wherein he was called English he was at pain to correct it" - p103 Jackie Stewart

"When reflecting on the future that Jimmy had in store I feel that he was not going to go back to full-time farming in Berwickshire. He was living the life of an international figure and no matter what might have happened in later years, I don't think he would have returned to Duns permanently. He had become a very sophisticated person. He played pretty hard and his tastes were very high and these he wasn't going to satisfy in Duns. I am sure he would have kept the house and that from time to time he would have loved to go back up there, but I don't think he would ever have gone back and settled down in the way a lot of people would have liked to imagine that he would. This just wasn't on and this is why, when people told me that Jimmy was thinking of retiring, I know that this was not the case. We talked about this a lot but he really didn't know what he wanted to do in the future. He didn't let anyone know what he was doing." - p105 - Jackie Stewart

"He was much more conscious of his personality than most people realised. It you went into a restaurant with Jimmy he did want to be recognised as Jim Clark. He didn't want it from the point of view of people asking for autographs but, like any human being, he did want the benefit of best table" - p107 Jackie Stewart

"His most difficult task in life, however, was making decisions.It was completely incomprehensible to find that someone who was so accurate and definite in his actions in a racing car was so completely inadequate when a decision had to be made outside a racing car. The number of times we have missed dinner because the restaurants have all been closed because Jimmy hadn't made up his mind which restaurant we should go to are legion, and the same is true of movies. One story is so typical of Jimmy. We were coming back from one of the American races and driving along a road where you cross a railway line with a ten mile straight one side and a ten mile straight on the other side. Jimmy is at the wheel of this Ford Galaxie and he gets to the crossing and stops. He looks one way then the other and there isn't a train in sight ten miles one way and ten miles the other then he turns to me and says 'well... what do you think?" He wouldn't dare make a decision without all sorts of drama. " - p107

"He was very keep to read everything said about him, and to make sure that there were no mistakes (this was a characteristic of Jimmy - he was most insistent that even the smallest of mistakes should not be made). He would spend half the afternoon reading sitting on a chair half in hand out of the little office. Sometimes if there were too many people talking in the office he would even shut himself in it" - p120 Gérard Crombac

"He met most of the French drivers in motorracing and the parties he went to were motor racing parties. He seldom went out on his own" - p122 Gérard Crombac

"He was no gourmet but he was becoming one, and he was very fond of French oysters we usually ended up in a sea food place " - p122 Gérard Crombac

"But although he was very generous, he remained the canny Scot of legend and he was not one to waste any money. I remember that he didn't want a house maid in the flat, so if one turned up in the middle of the morning, one might find James Clark Esq., O.B.E, pushing the vacuum cleaner through our living room" - p125 Gérard Crombac

"I thought his rather strong Scottish accent was fading with the time, until an incident when he was invited to patronise the opening of a French pub, which was to be done in style with the help of a pipe band. When Jimmy turned up and realised these people were fellow Scots he started chatting happily with them and I could hardly understand what he was saying as his accent had come back strongly and so suddenly." - p126 Gérard Crombac

"Jimmy's Scottish upbringing had instilled in him a rather restrained attitude towards girls, and I think he was very very shy with them in the early part of his career. But he was also tremendously attractive to them they would come up to him for autographs, and would leave no doubt as to their true intentions. In part he enjoyed this, but I also think he was put off in a way by this ruthless approach, so that he had absolutely no respect for most of them. So as a result, there were times when he wasn't the perfect gentleman." -p126 Gérard Crombac

"There was also a time he found a packet of cigarettes in a tent, gathered a bunch of boy scouts around him and gave them the cigarettes. He then had a picture taken of all these boy scouts lined up a cricket team smoking cigarettes with Jimmy in the middle holding a half gallon of beer." - p136 Bill Bryce

"I think Jimmy drove like a ballet dancer, he had the lightest feet and hands on earth. He had immensely strong shoulders and arms but this was the only part of him that was strong physically. He was a great dancer in motor cars, gentle with them, kind with them and I feel that the reason he was a great driver was that there was always the feeling of participation with the motor car, so the driving almost became sixth sense with him in many cases." - p145 Walter Hayes

"All this stuff about Jimmy the Shepherd with his little flat cap was nonsense. He wasn't a great Shepherd. He liked to go back to the family every so often to rediscover who he was" - p146 Walter Haynes

"When I first met Jimmy he found it extremely difficult to speak in public and he was exceptionally shy about it" - p148 Walter Haynes

"I remember just before his accident, he was talking about his future and what he was going to do when he stopped racing, and he said he finally made up his mind that he wouldn't in fact go back farming. He still loved it, but I think after the excitement and turmoil of racing, flying and the life he had been leading. I think he wanted to settle down in some branch of the aviation business" - p164 Colin Chapman

[pichiru]

The Sun Also Smiles - Chapter 5

Chapters - [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Summary - With Mabel and Dipper's 16th birthday party on the horizon, Grunkle Stan takes to online dating to find a date for the party. Things start to get real weird real fast.

Word Count - 3,582

Pairing(s) - Stan Pines x OC

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, Mystery

~~~~~~~~

“Sixer, is this really necessary?” Stan panted as he was running on a treadmill in their lab. He was keeping up just fine but of course he was a little winded. Being on a boat nonstop for two years will do that to you.

“Yes, it’s extremely necessary because I don’t want to wake up tomorrow morning and hear that my brother died from over exerting himself if he…” Ford cleared his throat with his fist over his mouth. “Happens to “get lucky” the night before.”

“Why do ya talk about sex like you’re the kids’ ages? Like ya don’t sneak off in the dead of night to be with Fiddleford,” Stan said loudly, unable to control the volume of his voice from running so much.

“Shut it!” Ford snapped as his face reddened from Stan’s words. He was completely unaware that his brother knew about that and now he was self conscious.

Stan cheesed, pleased with himself that he outed his brother the same way he outed him to the kids. “How much longer do I gotta run?? I gotta take another shower cuz of ya!”

“You should wanna freshen up before a date. Anyways, you can stop at any time. Nobody told you to run. I told you to just get on the treadmill. You’re the one who started running like there were demons chasing you,” Ford said in a snide tone.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Stan growled, immediately turning the treadmill down to a comfortable speed before hopping off. “Are your tests conclusive?” He asked as he went to the fridge that was in the lab. Ford spent long hours down here since they were back and Stan thought to get a fridge installed so he could stay hydrated at least. He saw a jug of water and sighed in relief.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ford said with his back to Stan, waving his hand dismissively. “You’ll do just fine if you get lucky tonight. I have no doubts. Just watch that your heart doesn’t start feeling funny,” he explained while he wrote on a piece of paper.

Meanwhile, Stan was chugging the water and let out a loud sigh then burped loudly. He put the half finished jug in the fridge and closed it. He wiped his mouth followed by his forehead to get rid of what sweat he could for the moment.

“If I do get lucky, can I bring her down here? Don’t wanna scar the kids. Not somethin they need to be around honestly,” he half joked.

“Yeah, sure,” Ford said, waving his hand again. He wasn’t paying attention in the slightest anymore. He was too focused on what he was doing to hear any of what Stan was saying.

“Loser says, yeah?” Stan said quickly.

“Yea- Oh, good grief,” Ford groaned, putting his head in his hand in defeat. Stan’s obnoxious laughter could be heard receding as he went upstairs to get ready for his date.

Mabel was sitting in Stan’s recliner when he came up from the lab. He walked into the living room.

“Hiiii, Grunkle Stan,” she said cutely.

“Hi, Pumpkin,” he said, ruffling her hair affectionately as he walked past her. “Bein good?”

“As alwaaayyyssss,” Mabel said with a grin.

“Good. Take care of your brother tonight for me, alright? He seems like he needs a lot of support right now.” Stan started up the steps then stopped and looked at Mabel.

“Can I ask you somethin?”

“Anything for yooouuuuu!” She chirped happily.

“What should I get her for our first date?” He asked shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” Mabel hummed for what felt like centuries.

“Cmon kid, I ain’t got all day,” he said playfully.

“She looks like the type to enjoy flowers if they were very specific flowers,” she said honestly.

“Specific flowers?” Stan asked, intrigued by this thought process now.

“Yeah like don’t get her just any old bouquet of random flowers. I’ve seen rose and sunflower bouquets. The red and yellow look soooooooooooo good together. Also! She just seems like a sunflower kinda lady. You know that special fact about sunflowers right?”

“No?” Stan said in a tone that gave his confusion away immediately.

“Sunflowers always face the sun no matter what. And I think, if I remember correctly, if there’s no sun, they face each other. So you could be all corny, hand her the bouquet, and say, “wow! I didn’t know you were the sun with the way these sunflowers are facing you!” Or something like that,” Mabel mimicked in her best Stan voice.

Stan stared at her with a deadpan expression, not buying it in the least bit. “I’ll get her the flowers but there’s no way in hell I’m sayin all that.”

“Why nootttttt! It’s cute! I think she’d appreciate it!” she pouted cutely.

“I think she’d laugh me out of house and home,” Stan chuckled.

“Noooooo! She’s really nice! I don’t think she’d do that to you,” she said, nodding to emphasize her point.

“If you say so kid. Anyway, I’m gonna go get dressed. Don’t let the tv or the phone rot your brain,” Stan said, walking up the stairs.

“Suuuurrreeee!” She said before whipping her phone out immediately and texting the group chat she had with Grenda and Candy.

Mabel said:

Guuuuyyysssss

Candy said:

What’s up Mabel!

Mabel said:

My Grunkle Stan is going on a date tonight and I kinda wanna spy on them 😼😽

Grenda said:

Spy on them?? How would you do that?

Mabel said:

Welllllllllll the driving age is 16 here and Candy is 16,,,,,,,,,,and she has her driver’s license,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Mabel said:

😼😼😼

Candy said:

I don’t think my parents would let me drive this late in the day

Mabel said:

That’s why yooouuuuuuuuu sneak ouuuuttttt. Just this one time! Please please please please please please pleeeeaaaassseeeeeeereeee 🙏🏻

Candy said:

Sighhhhhhhhh fine. This one ☝🏻 (1) time

Grenda said:

OOOOOOH SPY MISSION SPY MISSION!!!

Mabel said:

Operation Date Night is a go 😈

Mabel hopped up from the chair then hurried up to her and Maze's bedroom. "Maze! Maze, Maze, Maze!" She repeated excitedly but enough to where Stan couldn't hear if he happened to be listening too hard.

"Whaaaaaaaat?" Maze asked in an annoyed tone. He was laying on his bed and reading a comic book when Mabel jumped on his bed.

"Wanna go on a spy mission with me and the girls?" she asked as she got extremely close to Maze's face. Her nose was pressed against his cheek which made her breathe heavily on him over and over again.

"A spy mission? Who are you spying on?" he asked, looking out of the corner of his eye so he didn't move to look at her.

"Grunkle Staaaaaannnnnnnn."

Maze fully turned his head to look at his insanity driven sister. "Mabel, isn't that a little...extreme?"

"Well yeah but don't you wanna make sure that this lady isn't some weirdo freak?" She retorted simply. "I wanna make sure Grunkle Stan is happy and taken care of in his old...er...age. That's all."

Maze sighed heavily. "Okay, even if I agreed to go along with this insane plan, how would we even get there?"

"Candy has her license," Mabel said in a singsong voice as she grinned from ear to ear.

He stared at Mabel for what seemed like 117 business days. "Fine," he said simply. "But if this goes downhill for us, I'm gonna say I told you so. Deal?"

Mabel laughed at that. "Deal!"

"Do you even know where they're going?" he asked.

"I asked Grunkle Ford and he said that they're going to some...wine tasting event at the art gallery. I dunno. Adults are weird," she explained.

"Huh. I knew Grunkle Stan was the artsy type but I didn't think he'd share that so readily with someone he just met. I only found out from Grunkle Ford recently in a correspondence from when they were out on their voyage."

"Mhm, mhm," she responded, nodding her head with her arms folded across her chest thoughtfully. "I'm gonna tell Candy to come get us after Grunkle Stan leaves. I know exactly which gallery they're going to. It's so nice from what I remember."

"Okay. Come get me when they're here and you're ready," Maze said, giving her a quick nod before going back to reading his comic book.

"You're the best little brother I could ever ask for!" Mabel said as she tackle hugged him.

"Hey, hey! Easy on the little stuff!" He said in a strained voice, starting to blush.

"I thought you were over that stuff??"

"Sometimes," he grumbled in response.

"Maze, you're always gonna be the little brother. You just have to learn to live with it at this point," Mabel teased, poking his side which caused him to flinch from being ticklish in that spot.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure," he laughed gently.

About an hour passed before Stan emerged from his room. There was a tolerable smell of cologne wafting off of him and his hair was done perfectly to his standards. He had on a black button up shirt with a fancier than usual, but still simple, gold chain adorned around his neck. His pants were simple but he definitely put on his best pair of shoes for this event. He even put in some old earrings he forgot he had.

Nobody ever really noticed except Ford because his hair was shaggy majority of the time but Stan had six piercings. Three on each ear. One on each lobe and two going up the outsides of his ears. There were two gold hoops and four gold studs. The man even shaped up his beard of all things. He felt amazing and most of all, ecstatic, about this date.

"Kids?" Stan called to the twins in the hallway. "I'm headin out! Be nice and try not to kill each other. Take care of Ford too!" he yelled out to them as he started down the hall to go down the stairs.

"Grunkle Stan!!" Quick and heavy footsteps could be heard closing the space behind Stan. Mabel held up her closed fist at him with her fingers facing upwards. "Give these to her," she said sweetly.

Stan turned to see what Mabel was going on about. "What is it?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow as he stared at her closed hand.

Mabel opened her hand to reveal a pair of well made conversation heart earrings that read, "Be Mine" and "Sweetheart". One was yellow and the other was pink. "She seems like a conversation heart kinda gal. Tell her you commissioned me for these and watch how fast she swoons," she suggested with a wink.

Stan stared at the earrings then took them from her gently. He smiled at the gesture and closed his hand around them. "Thanks, Pumpkin. Appreciate this a lot."  He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

She giggled and blushed shyly. "Let me know how she likes them!!"

"I will. Solana's an artist too and I know she'll appreciate how much work ya put into this, kid." Stan smiled at her gratefully while he patted the top of her head lovingly.

Her eyes sparkled at that fact. "I'd love to see her work some time!"

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind showin ya. Just be patient, yeah?"

Mabel nodded quickly, pursing her lips at the same time. "I got ya!" She winked at him.

"Okay, I gotta get goin," he said as he checked the flashy time piece he had on his left arm. "Don't wanna be late to my first date in years." He chuckled. A date. That felt funny to say out loud.

"Yeah! Gogogoogogogogo!" She urged eagerly, pushing him to go down the stairs faster. "I wanna hear all about it when you get home!"

Stan laughed to himself. As if he'd tell her every single thing. Especially if things were to get a little heated like they did earlier at the store. He made it to the bottom of the stairs intact, no thanks to Mabel still pushing him. She didn't stop until they were at the front door. "Gooooooooo!"

"I'm goin, I'm goin!" he snorted, opening the door to leave. "Be good, kid." Stan closed the door behind himself and walked to his car.

Mabel whipped out her phone immediately and texted the new group chat that she'd made with Maze, Candy, and Grenda.

Mabel said:

Guys. Operation Date Night is a go. 😈

Candy said:

Got it. On my way. 🚗

Grenda said:

I'M SO EXCITED!! 🗣

Maze said:

Ready as I can be to spy on my grunkle

On the drive to the gallery, Stan sang along to the radio to every song that played. Either he listened to the radio too much or they needed to find new songs to play for once. Maybe it was both. He didn't really care either way. It was a way to work off the nerves he was feeling the closer he got to the gallery.

He'd already met her and kissed her but he still wanted to make a good impression on her anyway. He _had_ to. There had to be some way to make for his behavior earlier. Hopefully the earrings Mabel made for her would butter her up even more in his favor. Make it look like he loved his niece and believed in her work. Which does. Obviously.

Once he arrived, he parked the car and cut the radio off to sit there in silence. The nerves were creeping back up on him slowly the longer he sat there in deep thought.

Stan reached in his pocket for his phone to see if Solana messaged him. And by a stroke of luck, she did.

Solana said:

I'm inside whenever you get here. I'm the one in the long and frilly off the shoulder affair 😋🖤 It's all black

Stan 🖤🖤🖤 said:

Alright I'm here I'll be in

Solana smiled at the message before putting her phone back into her purse and waiting for Stan. She was just as nervous as he was, surprisingly. She started fidgeting with her hands to try and work some of the energy off.

Breathe in.

It's okay.

Breathe out.

He's a nice guy. He won't be weird.

Breathe in.

What's to be nervous about?

Breathe out.

What if he thought she was…promiscuous…for throwing herself at him?

Breathe in.

He definitely thought that.

Breathe out. Breathe in.

Oh God.

Breathe out. Breathe in. Breath out.

He does.

In. Out. In. Out.

He does???

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In…

He does.

The speed of her breathing quickened alongside the speed of her thoughts. It started to become overwhelming almost immediately. Everything around her started to sound extremely deafening but unintelligible gibberish at the same time. Her head started spinning the longer she sat there with herself. It became unbearable.

"...ana?" A voice said through the fog.

"Huh?" She said softly, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

"Solana?" Stan's voice said clearly, snapping her back to reality promptly.

"S-Stan," Solana said softly as she tried to compose herself. She adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. After shaking her head a little to reduce the fog in her brain, she saw Stan clearly. Smelled him too. He smelled so...*good*.

Stan was standing there with a bouquet of roses and sunflowers like Mabel suggested with a distressed look on his face. He was worried sick about the state Solana seemed to be in at the moment.

“Wow, you look fucking amazing,” she complimented as she looked him from head to toe a few times over. “The sexy black shirt. We just so happened to wear all black and match? That’s cute. And oooh, the earrings? You really pulled out all the stops,” she rambled, trying to get the residual nerves to go away at this point.

Stan’s entire face turned red at the compliments she rapidly fired at him. He was completely speechless.

“I…uh…speakin of earrings. I…I had these commissioned for you. From my niece,” Stan said after clearing his throat. He pulled earrings from a little part on the bouquet and handed them to her in a decorative baggie. The florist did him a solid and gave him a mini bag for them.

Solana took the baggie gently and opened it then poured them into her hand. A soft look plastered itself on her face. It was an expression that held admiration for Stan and happiness that he’d even think of something like this so quickly.

“Stan, I…”

“Oh! It’s not me askin ya to do anything ya don’t wanna,” he said quickly, his embarrassment becoming much clearer the longer they stood there in silence. His neck and ears heated up.

Solana stepped forward then stretched onto her tippy toes in her heels to place a kiss on his lips. Stan cleared his throat to hide the pride he felt in getting another kiss from her.

“Thank you. I love these. I’ll put them on right now, actually.” And she did just that. As she was putting them on, she finally turned her full attention to what was in Stan’s hands.

“Flowers? For me?” She asked, tears clear in her tone. “Homemade earrings and a bouquet of flowers so delicately made and designed? For me?” She asked again as she started sniffling.

“WAIT, why are you cryin!” Stan said, holding his free hand out at her. Admittedly, he didn’t know what to do with her like this so he waited until she told him what she needed.

“Should I get ya some tissues??” He asked worriedly.

“No, no. I’m fine,” she said through her copious amounts of sniffles as she pulled a jet black and lace trimmed handkerchief from her cleavage. Stan blinked at that motion. That was…kinda hot. Solana started dabbing her the waterline of her eyes with the cloth then patted her cheeks dry.

“I’m sorry. It’s just so sweet of you to do all of this and I don’t have anything for you.”

“S’fine, toots. I don’t need anything,” Stan deflected quickly.

Solana rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I asked or said. Now I have to get you something as equally or even more amazing than these gifts. Can I?” She asked, holding her hands out for the flowers.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. They’re all yours,” he said while putting the flowers into her hands gently. “I got ya sunflowers cuz ya been lightin up my life like the purest ray of sunshine since we met and sunflowers always face the sun no matter what. So…yeah.” He took Mabel’s advice but he tried to doctor it up a little from what she originally said.

“Stan, that is…” She started sniffling again. “That’s the sweetest thing a man has ever said to me. You got game, old man,” she joked through her stifled tears.

“Yeah, you know, I try,” he said with a shrug and charming half smile that could only be interpreted as him trying to be humble but failing miserably.

Solana giggled at his attempt to seem nonchalant. “You’re so funny,” she sniffled once more, wiping her eyes and cheeks again. After she did that, she folded the handkerchief up and put it back in her cleavage.

“Are you…ready to get this show on the road? It’s a night of fine wine and fine art beside a fine man.”

“With a fine lady on my arm,” Stan added before holding out his arm for her to take.

She let out an excited but quiet “ooh” sound then took his arm just as he wanted her to. “Wanna get the wine before or after the art?”

“After. I don’t wanna be tipsy for this,” he said honestly.

“I respect that so much,” she said sweetly. “Lead the way?”

“Glad to do it, toots.” Stan started towards the beginning of the gallery with his date on his arm and his confidence through the roof. He leaned down closer to her ear. “Ya look great by the way. I’m diggin the whole goth vibe. It’s sexy,”he said in a low voice.

“Oh!” She said as her face flushed. “Thank you.”

As they walked deeper into the gallery, Mabel, Maze, Candy, and Grenda were peeking around a corner and watching from afar. Mabel and Candy were borderline crying at how Stan managed to pull everything together and make it cohesive.

“I am so proud of him!” Candy nearly sobbed.

“The sunshine line was my idea. He just dressed it up a bit,” Mabel said in a wavering voice as her bottom lip quivered.

Maze rolled his eyes and, of course, put his hands in his pockets. “You guys are so mushy.”

“Guys, they’re getting away from us! We have to focus!” Grenda said as she grabbed Mabel’s face and held it tightly in place. “We have to see,” she whispered.

“Grenda’s right. We gotta go!” Mabel said in a louder than she should voice. Maze immediately covered her mouth.

“Do you wanna ruin your own covert operation??” He asked her. She shook her head. “Then we gotta be quieter so we don’t get found out. Got it?” She nodded and he removed his hand from her mouth.

“Let’s go,” Candy whispered, sneaking forward to try and catch up to Stan and Solana at a reasonable distance. Everyone else crept beside her.

[aclowntiny]

Sunflowers and Snapdragons- Woozi x Female!Florist!Reader

Word Count: 5700 | Flower Shop, Fluff, Some Quiet/Sunshine Vibes | Warnings: a lil language & a couple naughty jokes oopsie

This latest photoshoot required going to a flower shop. It was this one specific one in Seoul that had three walls of flowers that made perfect backdrops. A lot of people already went to it for instagram shots, so there was some work cut out for them to make it unique, but everyone was confident carats would like it.

Seungcheol was really excited to visit the shop, having seen a lot of posts about it, and Minghao was admiring blossoms the moment they walked in. No one was at the counter yet, so they had some time to roam. Jihoon wasn't frustrated, though- they'd arrived with the crew over fifteen minutes early to scope things out. He strolled through one of the color-coded aisles, fingers gently brushing a delicate white bloom as Mingyu passed him by with a massive rose in hand.

"Are you using that for the shoot?"

"I'm not sure," Mingyu shrugged and grinned, "but if I'm not, I kind of want to buy it anyway. This will make great photos, too!"

As Jihoon glanced around, he could see that several members were already taking their own selfies with the flowers. Seungkwan had chosen a sunflower, Joshua was posing with a rose in a way that (at least, to Jihoon's eyes) only made him look like James from Pokémon, and Soonyoung looked like he was about to eat a marigold. To each their own.

Maybe he would join them later, but for the time being Jihoon was content to wander over to the pre-arranged bouquets wrapped up near the front. One was a splash of fall colors, reds, oranges, and yellows bursting from it, while another was a passionate, romantic red. This is red, too jokes aside, it was amazingly crafted, asymmetrical with one side waiting while the other burst like a firework, the perfect representation of an anatomical heart newly beating for its object. Who had such eyes as to create a work like this, Jihoon wondered as he leaned a bit closer, scanning the flowers and catching the fragrance of one of the small, thin roses making up the still-subdued half.

Right then, a figure came bouncing out of the doorway behind the counter, spinning in a circle in the air and making several small leaps to the counter before executing a few more clumsy, uncoordinated, unadulterated joyful dance moves. Several grooves later, your eyes flew all the way open and you jumped, hastily pulling a pair of airpods from your ears and straightening your apron again.

Jihoon A. kind of wanted to know what you were listening to B. was surprised to see someone like you running this elegant floral shop. You were young, surely close in age to him, and if your clumsiness, huge smile, and eager wave told him anything, not the usual personality one saw in a florist. Not that he ever made a habit of going to flower shops. He barely went anywhere, frankly.

"You're here for the shoot, aren't you?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper, and Jihoon was surprised just how pleasant it sounded.

Giving a hum in response, he nodded. “Is this shop yours?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied with a salute, “I studied the language of flowers for years and now I translate it for everyone!”

A very unique way to look at that. “I see. Alright, then, er, what are these saying?”

“Oh, those?” Your eyes fell on the largely peach-toned bouquet he pointed to and widened. “Uh, you know what’s funnier than those? This bouquet over here is my gag gift.”

Jihoon cocked a brow. “Flowers this beautiful as a gag gift?”

“Yeah, so like the yellow carnations mean ‘you disappoint me’ and the orange lilies are for hatred, oh and geraniums mean stupidity, so this one is the ‘screw you’ bouquet. People either get it with the gag card or just don’t tell the person,” you reply with a grin, hand waving over both the autumnal bouquet and his question.

“Ok, that is funny,” he agreed with a chuckle, unable to resist imagining getting one for one of the members without them realizing.

Before you could say any more, though, one of the photographers approached you, causing you to turn his way.

“Hi,” you waved, bouncing on your heels, “you’re here for the shoot, right? Which wall were we setting up at again? I made sure they were all ready.”

“We were planning on starting with the pink one.”

“Oh, good!” You clapped. “I was hoping you were going to use the pink one! Let’s go get started. …see you in a bit!” You called to Jihoon as they took him back aside to prepare.

Wow. Lot of energy. As the stylist got ready to check him over, he ended up next to Minghao and Seokmin.

“You sure seemed to hit it off with the florist,” he commented matter-of-factly.

“She just seems…really chatty,” he replied with a sheepish smile, “not how you usually think of a florist being.”

“Maybe not, but it’s kind of nice. A florist with a flower-like personality!” Seokmin said with a smile. Leave it to him to find an angle like that- such was his charm.

“I think you two would get along really well,” Jihoon told him with a teasing eye roll.

~

For this shoot, Soonyoung went first; he was paired with white flowers, which really made the pink backdrop stand out. The other members watched, some cheering and some cringing, as he posed, the lovely style of the shoot surely something carats were going to enjoy. That was how Jihoon thought of it, otherwise it wasn’t exactly his style, but thinking of bringing smiles to everyone’s faces was worth almost any concept.

After Soonyoung was Mingyu, who had yellow. At the professionals' prompting, you handed him a big yellow hibiscus, which he accepted with a smile.

“Your skin is so pretty!” You gushed. “And your smile is very nice.”

Mingyu looked quite pleased with himself, pulling himself up to his quite full height. “Well. You aren’t so bad yourse-”

“You remind me of my brother!” You added with an innocent grin, adjusting your name tag, which Jihoon saw read (y/n).

“Ah, right, thank you,” the tall rapper accepted the compliment sheepishly. Everyone else snickered behind him as you bounded back off, completely naïve to it all.

“You’re not going to be in front of the pink wall,” came a sudden voice at Jihoon’s side, sending him jumping back a bit.

Turning to face the sound, he was faced with the sight of you at his side motioning to his outfit. “You’re wearing red. That wouldn’t look good with the pink wall. You’re going by the white or the red one, huh? Oh, uh, not that you don’t look good, just color theory and all. You look really nice in red. If you don't usually, then you should wear it more often.”

He found himself flushing into the whirlwind at the compliment. Why, he couldn’t say- it wasn’t the first he’d heard, but something about the words coming from a florist stuck with him. “Thank you,” he replied stiffly, unsure what else to say, “I am going to the red wall. A few of us are going monochrome.”

“It’ll look great!” You cheered him on, handing him a single red rose.

"Oh, you don't need to-" Jihoon held the flower back out, but before he could finish you were bouncing off again at the photographer’s behest.

You talked to the others, too, but didn’t seem to give out any more flowers, just danced around the makeshift studio suggesting flowers and making adjustments, flitting around like a dandelion seed on the wind. Curious.

~

When the formal photoshoot was over, Seventeen gathered in front of the white floral wall to take group pictures with you in thanks. You insisted on doing 'a silly one', prompting some of the members to get really wild with their poses and wow Jihoon had no idea you'd be able to stretch your leg as high as you did. He held out your flower like a magic wand, having kept it in his hands the entire rest of the shoot- it was such a perfect rose, they even let him use it as a prop for some of the pictures.

A part of him still wondered why you gave it to him. Another part of him wondered what song you had been listening to when he first saw you. A third and final part just wondered why he cared when he had everything else in his life to think about.

Two was bigger than one. The only way Jihoon would ever find time to go back to that shop would be necessity, like if he left something behind, forcing him to return. Glancing, he saw the original jacket he'd entered the florists' with hanging on a peg behind the counter. Then promptly set his gaze drifting far from that, perusing a row of chrysanthemums as he followed the sea of men that was his members out the door.

"Goodbye!" You waved to them, apron flapping back and forth with the motion. "You were great models! I'll buy your pictures!"

A few cheers rose from the guys, Seungcheol, Joshua, and all three members of Booseoksoon at least. A wave of pride crashed over Jihoon's chest, probably because you were so earnest. Not because of the way the color of your eyes was brought out by the stars in them.

"We'll keep buying your flowers!" Seokmin called, waving the little bundle of pink azaleas he'd bought at you.

The last of you Jihoon heard as he exited your viral shop was a bright, musical giggle that echoed in his mind several times over.

~

Hands in his pockets, Jihoon made his way to leave the dorm the next day and go collect his jacket.

"You're leaving?" Soonyoung. Unabashed shock colored his tone, his mouth wide open.

"You're doing it too," Jihoon teased in response, a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, but I'm me. I go shopping, I take walks, but you? You never leave. Where are you going?"

"I left my jacket at the flower shop yesterday, the long one I had on over the red? So I'm just going to see if they still have it."

"That's one of your favorite jackets," Soonyoung commented as he opened the door, ushering the both of them past the threshold.

"I know, so I hope they still have it."

"You never forget things like that," his bandmate pondered with a tilt of his head.

"They must have put it somewhere weird," Jihoon shrugged in response.

The jacket conversation died there, but Jihoon couldn't help hoping his tiger-loving friend didn't suspect anything as he strode along the sidewalk, hailing a taxi.

~

No longer reserved for a day's shoot, your shop had some business. A teenage couple was taking pictures in front of the pink wall in the chaste embrace of first love, a man alternately held up bundles of white and red roses, clearly trying to make a decision, and there you were behind the counter, shimmying with one airpod in as you secured some daffodils with twine for an older lady. It seemed like Jihoon was going to catch you dancing every time he saw you.

Glancing further behind your counter, he saw his jacket hanging on the peg where it was left the day before. Bingo. Striding forward, he got in line behind Daffodil Lady, who was just finishing up handing off some won to you before you gave her a receipt. When he stepped forward, your face lit up so bright it sent a whole swarm of butterflies fluttering inside him.

"Hi!" You waved, popping out your single airpod and placing it back in its case- interesting that you did that now and not when you were helping the old lady- before leaning forward on your wooden counter. "Woozi, isn't that right, sir?"

He chuckled. "Oh, just call me Jihoon. Sorry to bother you, but I think I left my jacket here?"

You waved a hand, still smiling brightly. "Oh, you're not bothering me. You could never bother me. Well, unless you were, like, burning my shop down or something- that would bother me. No arson on my florals, please!"

Jihoon just chuckled with a shake of his head as you bobbed over to the wall rack that housed his jacket, plucking it off the peg. "This one, right?"

"Yes," he nodded, "thank you."

"Of course, Jihoon," you replied, using his name, "anything else I can help you with?"

Maybe it was the way you said his name, the fact that just showing up, taking his jacket, and leaving seemed lame, but suddenly he felt a strange bit of conviction wash over him. Turning around, his eyes scanned the rows upon rows of blooms, taking in the fluttering rainbow of roses and carnations, sunflowers and snapdragons, tulips and hyacinths, before locking on a soft purple bundle. He walked over and took them gently in his hands, returning to your counter.

"These are really pretty," he comments as he hands them to you, "I'd like to get some of these for my studio."

"I'll put them in a vase then," you replied with a nod as you trimmed them and stood them up, "great choice! Lilacs are pretty, and they symbolize new love. Maybe they'll help you write a love song."

Your eyelashes fluttered a bit as you spoke, and when you said goodbye, you told him you hoped you'd see him again soon. He was almost tempted to forget something again.

~

"These are nice. When did you get these?" Seungcheol waved his hand over the vase of lilacs on Jihoon's desk, head tilted inquisitively.

"I bought them when I went back to that flower shop to get my jacket."

His leader smiled. "Oh, from the really friendly girl? You bought flowers?"

His face felt a bit warm. "I felt weird leaving without buying anything. Having something to decorate is kind of nice anyway," he answered with a shrug.

"Well, it's nice to bring a little outside in, especially since you never go out," Seungcheol teased, elbowing him lightly.

"I do, too...sometimes."

"Oh yeah? When was your next plan to leave here?"

Shit. "Er, ah..." Light bulb. "To get lunch!"

Seungcheol raised a brow. "You always get that delivered."

"Well, fine," Jihoon teasingly huffed, crossing his arms, "then we'll just have to make do bringing outside in, won't we?"

"Nothing wrong with that," the older man replied, leaning back into the lilacs and inhaling their scent lightly, eyes dropping closed a bit, "I wouldn't mind having a vase or two to brighten up my brother's place."

"I could get you some," Jihoon blurted out, cursing his own response's speed.

That smile of Seungcheol's was no good. "Oh yeah?"

Jihoon's face warmed, but he didn't back down, doing his best at a flippant wave of the hand. "Sure, I mean...you were the one who wanted me to get out more, weren't you?"

"Yeah," the rapper replied with a fond glance Jihoon had to roll his eyes at, "I suppose I was."

~

You were dancing again when he came in, this time with more of a formal choreography- Vixx’s G.R.8.U, if he wasn’t mistaken. The moment you saw him, though, you popped out your airpods again.

“Were the lilacs mean to you?”

“What?” Jihoon frowned slightly, eyes fixed on the way you fell into a forward lean over your counter, peering at him with your chin in your hand.

“I’m just messing with you. Wondering if you gave then the boot and are looking for a replacement or something. Maybe they talked back.”

“Oh, I forgot, you think flowers can talk.”

“Don’t make me sound crazy!” You protested, eyes widening in what Jihoon hoped was mock-offense, “I just mean flower language like from the Victorian days!”

“I know, that’s why you have ‘screw you’ bouquets and whatever the ones you wouldn’t…” Jihoon trailed off, hand waving over the infamous peach bouquets from visit number one, either new ones or somehow you were magically keeping them fresh for days on end, probably the latter. They were in a different position, individuals parted this time, revealing a card attached to the wood backing that revealed their price and identity. Those particular bundles, filled with coral roses, tiger lilies, and the occasional carnation and dotted with coriander flowers, were dubbed the “Let’s Get Down to Business” bouquet.

“Not red?” Jihoon mused quietly out loud.

Your gaze drifted diagonally downward; clearly you heard him, faint panic rising to your eyes as they fell upon the very-directly named arrangements you’d made.

"Those weren't my idea, just my translation! It was a popular request! Er, and no," you stammered, not meeting his eyes, “red’s more romantic than…uh, well, forward. Red is usually more for true love.”

You look really nice in red. If you don't usually, then you should wear it more often. “I see." His own stare trailed to the floor. "Well, are there any flowers just for friendship? I don't know if you remember S.Coups from the shoot-"

"One of the other red guys, right?"

He had been placed at the red wall. "Right."

"Medium tall? Black hair?"

Rather than point out that that description would match multiple members, Jihoon just nodded. "Yeah, the leader."

"Say the name guy," you agreed, mirroring his nod.

Say the name guy. He exhaled in amusement at that. Cute, but totally accurate. Jihoon was going to use that sometime. Seungheol would get a kick out of it too.

Fingers gently caressing a lily, he repeated what you said with a nod of his head and a twinkle in his eye.

“So S.Coups needs flowers now?”

“He said he wanted some after he saw the lilacs.”

You lit up. “Yellow roses are perfect to show friendship! How are these?” You asked as you pulled out a vase of yellow flowers.

“Perfect.”

“And I’ m really so honored you guys like my shop,” you added with a little bow as you started ringing up the vase.

“I’ll never go anywhere else for flowers,” Jihoon told you with a smile, “also, I have to ask- what music are you listening to?”

You glanced down at the counter again sheepishly, but a big smile spread across your face. Cute. You should tell her. No, shut up. That’s weird. “Well, I like upbeat stiff a lot. Right now I’m listening to-”

“Vixx-sunbaenim? G.R.8.U?”

Your eyes widened. “How do you- Oh, wait, I guess you would,” you chuckled nervously, “yes. That first day I was listening to MCND’S H.B.C. I guess I like acronyms!” At this, you gave a full-blown laugh, that sound better music than anything your airpods could have come up with.

“I guess so,” Jihoon said, and with that he left, wishing he knew what else he should have said.

"Oh, and here. Since those aren't for you, this one is," you stopped him before he left, leaning forward with a large camellia in hand.

As he waited for another cab, Jihoon snuck a glance into the wide windows of your shop and saw you, airpods back in, twirling around again behind your counter, heart constricting at the sight.

~

“Wow, that’s a really hype beat! I’m going to have to come up with a fast dace, aren’t I?” Soonyoung waltzed into Jihoon’s studio with a teasing groan.

Jihoon paused the instrumental immediately, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t know, this is just something I’m working on. I felt like making something upbeat.”

“Well, I can see why,” his hyung commented with a nod further into the room, “I think you have a problem.”

Giving a quick dart of the eyes across the room, the composer took in the four vases of flowers placed on two empty chairs and the two empty desk spaces that had once remained. “What do you want me to do?” He replied quietly, curtly. What else could he do, for that matter? He was running out of excuses to go see you. “I can’t think of any other reason to go!”

Soonyoung’s brows furrowed, gaze alternately narrowing and widening. “Huh- oh. Oh!” He smiled, a sight that usually didn’t bother Jihoon, but this one was even more immature than Seuncheol’s. “You want to see that florist again, don’t you? I was just going to tell you you were getting addicted to flowers.”

“Addicted to flowers?” Jihoon chuckled into the words despite the slight glare on his face.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve seen you do weirder things for inspiration,” Soonyoung replied with a shrug. “I saw her dancing, are you making a song for her?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s not a bad idea.”

“Well, I’m not doing it.”

“What a couple, you too,” Soonyoung shook his head, “you’re like a sunflower and a snapdragon.”

Two impulses rose, one to correct his tiger-loving bandmate that he and you were not a couple at all and one to state that in fact, you’d displayed those very two next to each other down the aisle of wooden boxes with all the yellow-toned stock. They apparently went together to some people. Maybe that was just offering ammo, though.

“Do you just buy flowers and leave? She’ll never know you like her.”

“She’s not supposed to. I mean, I don’t. Not really. Just a little.”

Soonyoung gave Jihoon his hoshiest cat eyes, shuffling closer with his hands behind his back.

“Look, I don’t have time to date anyone anyway.”

One more shuffle across the hard floor. Every muscle in Jihoon’s body tensed slightly. “How much time out of the week do you spend on trips buying flowers? A dinner or two’s time, you suppose?”

“I’m…I’m not good at saying stuff like you are,” Jihoon finally sighed into the unrelenting cat eyes and lopsided grin. “I should just be happy to go in and get flowers.”

“You want me to do it for you?”

“No.”

“I can. I’ll go in and just tell her how much you-”

“Absolutely not. That would be worse.”

“Well then, if you want it done right, you’re right. The only way is to go do it yourself,” Soonyoung concluded with a nod.

The worst part is that it wasn’t a bad point, damn his Bugs Bunny method. Didn’t change anything though. Time was still short, he wasn’t totally sure you were interested, and the mental image of any discomfort crossing your face on his account was nearly enough to bring a slick of sweat to his tightening palms. Going to your shop was all he had.

“I’m not going to harass her,” he finally spoke again, imagination starting to fade back away into reality.

“Then don’t. Maybe you should try…” Soonyoung paused for dramatic effect, opening his palms in little stationary jazz hands. “Complimenting her.”

“Complimenting her?” Jihoon repeated dumbly, hands opening and sliding back toward his keyboard, yearning for comfortable, familiar territory.

“Sure. Say something nice, see how she reacts. Kindness without commitment.”

Not a bad idea. He didn’t have to say anything stupid, after all. Nothing too weird. Drumming his fingers on the solid edge of his keyboard, he wracked his brain for things to say. What he said would depend on the context of course, because he’d only say something nice in response when it came up, not just blurt it out, and it has to be normal, not something out of the lyrics he definitely hadn’t been toying with writing about you.

“You’re overthinking things now, aren’t you?”

Jihoon opened his mouth fecklessly, no sound coming out, but before he could chastise his friend the studio door swung open again.

“Jihoon, we need to talk about all the flowers all over the dorms, you’re killing the rest of the vocal unit’s allergies and Jun just complained that-”

Seungcheol, the one who opened the door, swung into the room and locked eyes with Soonyoung, who crossed his arms and smiled with a nod.

“I’m on it,” he said.

Jihoon’s head fell into his hand, beat all but forgotten as he cursed his own slip of the tongue. Should’ve had the flowers sent to his mom or something.

~

“I, uh, listened to the songs you mentioned.” Jihoon stood at your counter yet again, hands wringing a bit nervously. He waited a week this time, practically the longest he'd gone, and the sight of your smiling face was like a pitcher of water in the desert. He wished you knew that, but wasn't about to be the one to tell you right then.

"Oh, yeah?"

"I liked them."

"Oh, good! I know you literally make music for a living so it would be pretty embarrassing if I recommended you stuff and you thought it was terrible or poorly made or whatever you call it when they don't produce it right if there's a word for that and I did, well, whatever the opposite of impressing you is."

"You always impress me," Jihoon chuckled.

"Oh, with my flowers, right." With a small unreadable smile, you glanced down at a set of pink tulips you were wrapping up.

"Not just with your flowers."

~

"And then you just LEFT?" Soonyoung burst out indignantly, arms flung open wide.

"What else was I supposed to say? I didn't have some poem to read her, song to sing! That was hard enough," Jihoon shot back, once again sitting with crossed arms in his now even more flower-filled studio.

"Oh no no no," Soonyoung shook his head over and over again, "no no no, this won't do at all. You can't be cryptic like that and just-" He sighed. "You're going back there. Now."

Jihoon didn't even look up from his laptop this time. "And waste all my cab fares?"

"You don't think seeing her is a waste and you know it. Otherwise we wouldn't have these, remember?" Soonyoung loosened one tulip from the pink bundle, sliding it upward from the vase until Jihoon smacked his hand, finally looking up into his triumphantly smiling face. "See? And if you're so worried, I will personally drive you back to her shop."

For once, the impulse to shoot back against the gloating wasn't there. "Do- do you really want this for me that bad?" He asked in a quiet voice.

"Call me a fool for love," Soonyoung replied.

Jihoon gave a small smile. "That's if you're rushing into something for yourself."

"Well, call me a fool for other people's love, then," his hyung grinned.

"Well, if you support it so much, then do me a favor...don't be there watching over my shoulder. I'll go back. Alone." Sighing and grabbing his bag, Jihoon made his way out of the studio once more.

Soonyoung just shook his head, chuckling. "What a couple you two are," he echoed his own earlier words at the composer's back.

Jihoon hailed the second cab of the day with a flush of embarrassment, not that this completely different driver would know why, it just felt like he did. Felt like everyone did. As he sat down, giving the address of your shop, he felt his phone vibrate. Reaching back, he slid it out of his pocket just far enough to see the notification.

Kwon Soonyoung: You got this 👍🏼🐯

All he could do was sigh again, this time with a shaky smile.

~

“Forget something?” If you were bothered by Jihoon’s return, you hid it well as you stood there, hands around your lovely face in a flower pose. A florist with a flower-like personality, just as Seokmin said.

“No. Well, sort of. I just suddenly needed-”

“Flowers for a pretty girl you just saw? I tease but you wouldn't believe how many times that actually-"

His hands involuntarily flexed, eyes scanning row upon row of nature's resplendent bounty as if to find the flowers that would do his job for him. Make it easier. Say all the words that had been planted in his heart on the day he first saw you, even if he hadn't realized how deeply they'd take root.

Wait, flowers did speak. You'd taught him that- there were friendship flowers, true love ones, sex ones apparently...and blooms for budding feelings.

"Lilacs are pretty, and they symbolize new love," you'd told him. That had lived rent-free in his mind for a good few days, even inspiring a few lines of lyrics ever since your sweet voice had spoken the concept into existence in Jihoon's universe, one that seemed far expanded at every one of your floral revelations.

"Yes, that's exactly it. Shouldn't it be lilacs, then?"

For the first time Jihoon had seen since he met you, you stopped fidgeting, standing completely still, jaw parting silently. Your eyes had widened a bit, narrowed with the furrowing of your brow, then blinked once, twice.

“Yes, I guess it should. You- you could also do a camellia bunch if you’re trying really hard,” you offered, head tilting his way with an inquisitive look, "but that's more like you've realized that you are in love."

A camellia. One of those big, pink, beautiful but fragile flowers he enjoyed, but also found inconvenient. Messy. Except he hadn’t minded when you gave him one- oh.

Oh.

Maybe this would be easier than he thought. Maybe, as much as it pained Jihoon to admit it, Soonyoung was right. Maybe dinner was easier than refilling six vases of water every other day.

“Which do you prefer, (y/n)?” He asked with a smile, using your name, which he rarely did, and catching a faint, flickering smile.

“I like camellias myself. The shape is appealing and the meaning is stronger. Though if you’re giving them to a stranger, I mean sheesh, lilacs are probably more-”

“No, I want the camellias. They’re for a pretty girl, remember?”

“I remember.” You weren’t dancing then. Your voice was flatter than usual. Preparing the paper, you cut the nicest-looking pink blossoms that Jihoon could see in the bunch, glancing awkwardly at him a few times before you handed it to him. “Well, alright, she better appreciate these or else she isn’t worth your time. You’re doing something nice after all, and I’ve seen girls complain about flowers their husband got them just because they were from the store and that’s messed up, so don’t you dare let her- Let her…”

Your ramblings trailed off as Jihoon accepted the bouquet, then immediately handed it back. Those usually wide eyes of yours just trailed down to the flowers, brows furrowing once again, the color of them obscured faintly by the motion.

“Is something wrong with them? Or was that the wrong color? Usually pink is the best if you want the love thing to come across, yellow's a bit platonic, but I'm sure whoever she is will like them if she's such a-"

This time, Jihoon cut into your words verbally, even as his eyes faltered, falling to the floor then back up to you, daring to ever so slightly meet yours. "You're the only pretty girl I've seen."

Jaw dropping, you took the bundle of flowers as if you'd never seen anything like them before, pulling them into your chest gently enough not to squash them, but a few petals still drifted to the floor because, well, camellias.

"So you really do like me too?" That wide smile Jihoon had come to miss on off-days, practically having it painted as a mural inside his eyelids, returned in full force as you looked between the flowers and him, knocking down the barrier that kept your counter private and stepping around.

Jihoon's breath hitched, words failing him as he simply nodded.

"Well, you know what?" You asked.

"What?" His voice felt hoarse, stolen now by your proximity, your side brushing his.

"No one's ever gotten me flowers before," you tell him with a grin before the bouquet is against his back, your arms thrown around his neck as you pulled his lips into yours.

Your smile, the way the white lights and sun filtering into your bright shop reflected in your eyes before they drifted shut, the way he could even see the spokes and intricate patterns within them thanks to the illumination, the feeling of you against him, was practically too much for Jihoon, and he quickly felt his head empty of thoughts, giving in only to sensation. No one had kissed him like you were in a long time, maybe ever, and he barely knew what to do with himself as his hands slid down to hold your waist, lips surging forward again and again.

You giggled as you two finally parted, keeping your forehead against his. "I didn't expect you to be a biter!"

If he hadn't already been flushed at the joy in your eyes as they stared into his, he would have been beet red at your comment. "Ah, did I... (y/n), I- I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't be, it's ok," you reassured him, smile not fading a bit, "you're just a bit of a snapdragon."

"You know, that's not the first time I've heard that."

"Oh yeah?" You laughed at that, nose crinkling. "And what am I then?"

"I'd say a sunflower."

A mock-pout fell across your face. "A friendship flower? After all that?"

"Look, I don't do flowers," Jihoon muttered, "I do lyrics."

"Oh, that’s right," you told him, smile returning quickly, "duh. Then sing something."

You barely heard your shop bell ring beneath his voice as he began singing, shakily before his voice found gravity, the two of you shoving off each other at light speed, adjusting your hair and clothes as the next set of customers swung the door open with faint looks of surprise.

"Er, flowers so beautiful you'll sing," you tell them with an unsteady grin, a nervous giggle, and one final, fluttering glance at Jihoon that melted him, spreading your arms out wide, "what can I help you find?"

Jihoon drifted back into a corner, for once not feeling he needed an excuse to stay there even though he had one: he wasn't leaving until he'd actually gotten your phone number.