#no one asked for this but i just wanted to talk :3

[jiminrings]

four seven eight, phase 3 (1)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 9k

glimpse: jungkook's secure when it comes to being a husband and a dad, knowing that he grew to love being both after everything you've been through. what he isn't so secure about is the possibility that it's everything he'll ever be.

alternatively, jungkook pursues his dream of making a film, even if it means making your rival his main lead behind your back.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ the return of 478jk (derogatory), major angst, fluff, the weight of devotion except jk's mean this time, flashbacks to phase 1 (im so sorry), the both of them r in an identity crisis, The Return of yoongi, yearning and the ache of unfulfillment all over, eventual redemption ]

notes: FINALLYYYYYY after a long wait, phase three is finally here :-) the og era of 478 is a time i'll truly never forget so now that i'm putting them in Several Inconveniences again, i look forward to creating another era with u citizens!!! mwah thank u love yew

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook likes to be needed.

He likes to be needed fully, sometimes even all at once to the point that every mention of his name makes him think that his assistance is needed. He wants to be needed like the way you rummage through your old film canisters that you dumped in a large drawer just to retrieve a specific picture of him; needed like the way you sigh in relief when you find said roll.

Jungkook wants you to seek him in a crowd, past all the banners of your name from your fans and lanyards of your staff, and ask specifically him for a cold water bottle he keeps in his bag for you. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t even mind if you ask it from him indiscreetly — he wants to be needed, even if neither of you are alone with each other.

He’s used to the feeling of being needed because it’s practically routine for him. The way Jungkook loves you has changed and evolved (needlessly to say for the better) through the years, and although he tries to look for the balance in it all, there’s a tiny, tiny part of him that wonders what would’ve happened if neither of you changed.

It’s perhaps the change in seasons, or maybe it’s the build-up of the stupid little things Jungkook’s seen recently; one of those things happen to be a ridiculously long thread by your fan, who happens to also be a fan of Yoongi, assuming that your marriage with J*ngkook (that’s exactly how they typed his name out) is ending, hence your recent collaboration on a brand deal. Jungkook, of course, has half the mind to go on his secret stan account and snark at said poster before reporting, but even then, there’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch.

Whatever weather it is outside nowadays or whichever stupid little thing pisses him off online, Jungkook can’t shake off the nagging question of what if in his mind.

When Jungkook cleans your water bottle every night for you to take to set the next day, he wonders if the two of you would still be together if only he didn’t rush to your place by the exact second your month-long break ended, right when he takes off the rubber from the cap to clean the ridges thoroughly.

When he blowdries your hair (even if you tell him not to bother) after you begrudgingly take a shower because you can’t sleep in bed after going outside and not washing up the second you come home, he wonders if you would’ve kept loving him even if the very incident with Sora didn’t push him to change, right when he sees you close your eyes while his hands scratch your scalp.

When Jungkook sounds out syllables to Hwayoung and tries his very best not to baby-talk her (he can’t help it sometimes) as he recounts his day to the toddler, he wonders if you would’ve even had a daughter with him if he stayed the same silent lover that he used to be, right when she parrots your name back to him with a smile.

“Young-ie’s probably starting to need me less and less,” he sighs to you with a pout, eyebrows knitted in concern as he gives you his rookie version of a blowout he’s still trying to perfect. Jungkook can’t flick his wrist the way professional hairstylists do, just in the same way you can’t pick up why he’s brought up the thought out of nowhere.

“How could you say that? She’s the biggest daddy’s girl ever,” you chuckle, placating him with the truth despite your initial confusion. If you weren’t fully awake awhile ago, you certainly are now — mostly because Jungkook springs up an unbelievable idea, and partly because whenever he tugs the brush at your hair, your whole head comes along with it.

“Not really. More like biggest mommy’s girl, you mean,” he defensively scoffs, apologizing quickly when he hears you wince at a particular experimental tug he does on your ends.

“Should we wake her up right now and let her decide?” you murmur, your eyes locking with his on the mirror.

Jungkook, at his most comfortable state, wearing ratty oversized pajamas and glasses on his face that he’s yet to update the prescription on, has never felt more competitive in his life.

“Well we could-…”

“I was joking,” you deadpan, the silence between the two of you getting long enough to the point that you suddenly find yourself laughing, effectively getting Jungkook out of his daze.

“… I knew that.”

You may have had an inkling about Jungkook feeling slightly off before in the past weeks, but all it took was his random, unprompted question tonight for you to solidify that seed of concern in your chest.

Jungkook likes to be needed, even if he can’t say the same that you need him as much as he thinks you do. He thinks it’s a perfectly rational feeling to want to be needed by both your wife and your daughter, and although he’s not as receptive to being needed as much by anyone other than his family, the feeling still stays the same.

He has all the time in the world. You’ve enabled him to do so even if he’s the one mainly looking after Hwayoung while you worked, but despite that, Jungkook doesn’t feel needed enough.

There’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch with neither your constant affection nor Hwayoung’s grabby hands. There’s an unplaceable, agitating urge in Jungkook’s chest to put a pause on everything and be back to who and what he used to be, despite your affirmation that he is needed.

There’s that tick going on in Jungkook’s brain that amplifies everything he does to seem wrong; that makes him grumpy when he wakes up to prepare you breakfast whenever you had early shoots, that makes him purse his lips when his daughter asks him to watch the same movie with her for the third time in the week.

All of the uneasiness in him, however, disappears when Namjoon, the acclaimed screenwriter that he has for a friend (whom he actually met through you), calls him up with an offer that Jungkook can’t refuse.

It’s an offer that releases the ache from his bones, makes him want to blowdry your hair better, and watch the same movie over and over again with his daughter — but Jungkook postpones saying it to you when you come home and want nothing more than to be in his arms, and for Hwayoung to be in yours.

( ♡ )

Jungkook could wait more.

He convinces himself that he can because although there’s a date set for the short film that Namjoon’s pitched for him to produce, it hasn’t grown yet to become the unstoppable force against Jungkook’s immovable object: family.

He knows he needs to tell you eventually and that he’s not really asking for permission in the first place, but there’s a sense of guilt in him whenever the thought of breaking the news to you comes into mind. He’s not nervous per se because he knows you’re as supportive of him, if not more, like he is with you.

It just happens that it’s within the fine details that Jungkook truly feels hesitant to tell you that he has to leave for awhile.

Jungkook could wait more, and although that means he has to deal with the occasional voice in his head telling him that lying to you (even under the guise of protecting you) has the capacity to bite back at him, he manages. He swallows down the words whenever you unintentionally give him an opening to tell you about the news of him going abroad, and just settles for holding your hand.

He could wait more because telling you now wouldn’t be the right time, now when you’re on your day-off as you’re close to wrapping up your current project before moving to the bigger, more exhausting one; not now when you have a time of reprieve to spend with your family before taking on the biggest project of your career to date.

Jungkook hums to himself as he looks down on Hwayoung who has a tiny shopping cart to herself, her strikingly round eyes that she got from him (Hwayoung looks more like him the older she gets) looking up to his own.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he lulls, mumbling loudly enough for only her to hear. “You’d understand if appa left for awhile, right?”

“Left?” she questions, holding up her left hand at the mention yet she reels at his query, brows furrowing as she seems to digest the question. “Why?”

“Yup. That’s your left. Good job, baby,” Jungkook praises, the knot in his throat growing when he looks to his daughter who looks confused at the sudden query, again, that came out of nowhere. “You would, won’t you?”

Hwayoung hums because she doesn’t quite understand, but that’s the thing that Jungkook fears most — she’s young and smart and although he wants to use those facts to his advantage, he realizes that Hwayoung being the age that she is in now could also prove him to be dispensable.

Jungkook likes being needed, but he’s much too afraid of the possibility that Hwayoung won’t even recall him as soon as he leaves.

Your husband’s snapped out of his reverie when you go downstairs with a skip in your step, the tell-tale mischievous tone to your voice already predicting that Hwayoung would make the two of you chase after her in the backyard all day. “What are the two of you plotting again?” you ask playfully, hands on your hips as Jungkook chuckles at the sight of his two girls.

“Nothing!” Hwayoung giggles, the word slipping out of her seamlessly as she even shakes her hands fervently, accustomed to what you mean exactly with your tone of voice. She’s young and bright and you see so much of Jungkook in her, even if Jungkook would argue otherwise.

Jungkook’s dazed this morning with the way his gaze locks in from far away, his bottom lip bit between his teeth more often than not as if he’s always at war with himself.

“You okay, Kook?”

“Mhmm. Couldn’t be better,” he hums half-heartedly, his lips grazing your temple as he guides you to sit down on the carpet with him. “You finally slept for more than eight hours. That’s good,” he says as an afterthought, the pauses in between his words growing in distance as his gaze is fixated on everything but you.

Jungkook looks at your daughter who’s now pushing Miso around the house in her shopping cart, and while your cat (who’s always seemed to hate your husband) looks more than pleased at being played with, she meows to Jungkook and only at him with a hiss at the end of her spiel as if in warning — as if Jungkook is guilty of something that only the two of them know about.

Almost as if out of everyone in the room, it’s only your cat who knows that Jungkook’s lying.

Jungkook can wait, but he’s certain that he can’t wait any longer because if his brain is unoccupied for long enough, he’ll start to hear Miso cursing at him through her yowls.

“Hwayoung doesn’t look like she needs you any less,” you say gently, your line of sight following Jungkook’s as he tenses at your words.

“Oh,” he sighs, jaw grinding down to a halt. “Right."

Your words seemingly came out of nowhere, even if the both of you know deep down that they’re influenced by his impulsive thoughts from last week.

“You can say the same for me,” you add, not as an afterthought, but as a lesser-known fact that Jungkook seems to forget every now and then.

There’s a weight in his chest because all of a sudden, Jungkook can’t wait anymore. The itch in his mind has already been scratched too much that it had already bled and scabbed.

There’s a weight in his chest that reminds him he can’t wait anymore, because in hindsight, the weight of him and everything that comes with him settles on his shoulders.

Maybe, Jungkook doesn’t want to be needed as much.

( ♡ )

Jungkook drops the news on you while you’re folding laundry.

He was meant to go for sincere but the way the words leave him, right when you’re in the middle of folding Hwayoung’s pajamas that she’s about to overgrow in the soonest, it sounds as if he’s been dying to tell you; now that he has, he sounds beyond relieved.

“Namjoon offered me a script,” he announces, taking the pajamas from you to put in his pile as he sees your eyes widen, the remnants of the heavy mascara they used on you on set awhile ago highlighting your surprise. “He wants me to produce.”

“What?” you punctuate, tilting your head as you try to make sense of what Jungkook’s saying. You know he’s speaking and you’re familiar with said words; you just never expected for them to be compacted in the same sentence, meaning the way that he makes it out to be. “Kim Namjoon, as in the producer for In Terms of Eternity?”

He chirps at that, posture straightening as he tries to jog your memory. “Yeah. You’ve worked with him before and introduced us, then turns out Jin’s also a friend of his and-…"

“I mean I know Namjoon and that you’re friends with him, Jungkook,” you interrupt, trying to reel yourself in as you’ve lost your focus trying to fold Hwayoung’s clothes and talk to your husband at the same time. “But I didn’t know you were that close for him to ask you to produce something for him.”

Jungkook doesn’t completely crash from the high he’s in over finally telling you the news, but there’s that spike that flashes briefly over his face, the frown on his lips letting on more than he shows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?"

You sigh at the impossible position the both of you are in, the words that try to line themselves up in your temple being no match to the way they translate out-loud. “It means nothing. I’m just… surprised that he’d ask you to be a producer for his script, that’s all. It came out of nowhere.”

Jungkook recoils at that, a stubborn brow raised as he tries to keep his composure. “Because you don’t think I’m capable of being a producer?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you inhale sharply, gripping a random article of Hwayoung’s clothing beside you to pace yourself. “Namjoon’s.. big. He’s established, and well, you’ve never become a producer before.”

“And you have?” Jungkook digs, even if it’s unnecessary to do so, and the way his face falls at the forthcoming regret that creeps up to him lets you know that he thinks so too.

“Jungkook,” you try again, quirking your lips to the side as you try to manage with the pace he’s set you up on. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. This is all new to me. All new to you, even. If anything, it’s nice that Namjoon trusts you a lot.

“He does. We’re close,” he nods, clearing his throat as he feels that the both of you could move on to the other phase of the news you had interrupted him at. “As a matter of fact, we’re taking it on a global scale.”

Jungkook doesn’t get why your face falls.

He doesn’t get why your shoulders rise and fall, not in relief, but out of controlled tension that threatens to pour over.

“What?”

“The script. The film,” he smiles, trying to get you to finish his sentence and connect the dots together but to no avail. “It’s… it’s — we have to film in the US for a few months.”

“What?” you repeat, the knot in your throat tangling up more and more hesitance in you the longer it stays there.

“I said, we have to-…”

“No, I heard what you said,” you interrupt, jaw clenching tightly as you try to grasp everything Jungkook has said.

You don’t get why Jungkook’s smiling.

You don’t get why he’s completely at ease and only in confusion as he sees you piece everything out.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Kook, all of this is new. Everything you’ve just said is and will be new,” you chuckle humorlessly, running your hand through your hair in frustration as you try to relax. “I’m happy for you, believe me, but Jungkook, what you’re saying is serious. It’s a lot to take in,” you pause, eyes wide as you repeat the words to yourself. “You. Producing. In the US, of all places, a-and for months.”

There’s not one exact emotion that runs through you because the longer that Jungkook looks at you, ecstatic, while you’re weighing what he’s just said like a bag of bricks — you feel even more conflicted.

Your husband wrings his hands together, nervously smiling at you as if he’s asking for permission, but the both of you know that his mind’s already set. He thinks the opportunity of producing a short film that’s been drafted by his friend is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, eager to take off even if he’s had no experience at all in the industry.

“I don’t know, baby. It’s just been so long since I got this excited and alive, y’know? It’s a nice change of pace and I get to do something nice-…”

“Isn’t being with your daughter nice?” you ask abruptly, unable to mask the conflict that’s been brewing in your mind ever since Jungkook pulled you aside to talk. You feel hesitant; disconnected even from wrapping your head around his wording.

Even convincing yourself that you’re just spent from working sunrise to sundown doesn’t work. No matter how hard you try, Jungkook’s tone remains as is.

“Y/N,” he sighs, lips in a tight line as he screws his eyes shut. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything, Jungkook,” you grit, crossing your arms in defense. You feel guarded more than ever, not because you’re the one whom he’s pertaining to, but because your Hwayoung is involved and you won’t sit around for it. “It’s just that when you put it like that, it sounds like taking care of Hwayoung is a chore.”

You used to be sure awhile ago that you were seeing double because in between memorizing scripts and going from schedule to schedule without any time to rest in between, you’ve been worried sick because Jungkook hadn’t texted you the whole day. You were shocked enough to come home to your daughter playing by herself downstairs (with Miso watching her the whole time), even more-so when you saw Jungkook engrossed in a highly-enthusiastic phone call.

Jungkook sighs as if talking to you completely exhausts him, pinching his nosebridge before muttering under his breath. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Excuse me?” you blink in surprise, tilting your head in sheer confusion. You’re about to shrug it off but he does that thing again, the one where he almost rolls his eyes at you but realizes it at the last minute.

“Nothing.”

“Say that again, Jungkook.”

“My god,” Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. He runs his hands through his hair frustratedly, sucking in a rushed breath. He looks straight at you when he gives his grievance. “I’m just saying! Why do you get to live out your dream but I don’t?”

“This is my job,” you bite back instantly, the second it took for you to digest his words being enough time for him to groan again. “If it were up to me, do you think I’d work six days a week? Do you not know how much it kills me to stay away from my family?”

You’re at a loss for words, the tiny bit of insecurity you have being dug up once again. You feel guilty because you actually don’t — you know to yourself that you still dedicate so much of yourself to Jungkook and Hwayoung even if you work full-time.

Jungkook chokes up a laugh in front of your face.

“Then quit your dream if you’re so miserable.”

Your jaw clenches quickly in annoyance, unable to retain the disbelief that builds up in your chest. “My dream is my job! It’s why we’re living this life in the first place, Jungkook! Your dream is this project that was pitched to you like what, two weeks ago?”

“Can I not live my life the way that I want to?” he asks exaggeratedly, eyes wide in defense. “Why am I only your husband and why am I only Hwayoung’s dad? Why can’t I go to the US a-and try things out? Why can’t I be free from all this even for just a while?”

Your mouth falls apart at that, your moment of shock simultaneously being Jungkook’s instance for guilty. He wants to reel it in right then and there, but the small part of his pride grows to hold him back.

“Do we hold you back that much?” you whisper, the headache that has been building in your head since this morning shrinking to the size of Jungkook’s words. “What are you getting so angry for? I’m not saying no. I’m asking you why you’re so hellbent on suddenly leaving to do this.”

A large part of you, if not all, feels more disappointed than angry. Hwayoung has not and should never be an afterthought for the both of you yet Jungkook brings her up with you like mere variables.

You can grasp the fact that being a parent is a full-time job like yours yet what you can’t get a hold of is your husband’s apprehension; his sudden need of pursuing something beyond your family.

“Because I’m scared, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers, exhaling heavily. “I’m scared that this is all what life could ever be for me.”

It’s only when you’re completely silent that he comes back to the severity of his words, the tension that’s been building up in him breaking the moment that you break eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry for being your wife.”

“Baby, that’s not-…” Jungkook tries to correct himself, hot on your heels as you get up from your seat on the couch. You’re not even speeding up yet he catches you just as urgently, the hold he has on your arm doing little to put you at ease.

“And I’m sorry for making you a dad.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m-…”

“You should do this project if you really want to,” you quip, back still turned to him as you enter the bedroom. Jungkook noticeably stops in his tracks, the furrow in his brows fading because you’ve put him on whiplash.

“What?”

“You’ve held down the fort while I was out being the breadwinner. It’ll be nice for you to do your own thing,” you smile tightly, eager to sleep on the whole thing just so you don’t stay hung-up for too long.

“What about Hwayoung? What about your film? They want it to be an entry for the Academy, right?” he asks in concern, different from the worry he had awhile ago when he thought you were against him leaving.

You nod, easily shrugging despite the weight on your shoulders. “I’m her mom, of course. She’s gonna come first. And for the film, I think I can still do it. I’ll juggle them both if I have to.”

Jungkook nods, eyes set on the floor. He didn’t think this far at all.

“Do you want to hire a nanny? I know a friend.”

“I’ll pass. I don’t trust nannies.”

There’s an overwhelming silence that engulfs the both of you, the white noise machine in your nightstand unable to fill it completely. Jungkook looks at the ceiling while you look at Hwayoung who’s sprawled in the middle of your bed, clutching Miso like a teddy bear — she already fell asleep waiting for the both of you.

“I didn’t mean what I said awhile ago, I’m sorry. It came out the wrong way,” Jungkook apologizes after some time, hand darting out to hold yours while you only hover above your vanity, taking off all of your jewelry except for your wedding ring.

“When do you leave?” you ask, still unable to meet his gaze.

“Next week,” he clears his throat. “When do you start filming?”

You nod, coming into terms that Jungkook would leave no matter what you say. “Next week.”

You’re arranging the covers when your husband tries to hold you again, voice strained and rushed. “Y/N, I really am sorry. I love being your-…”

“Shh,” you interrupt, pursing your lips. “Hwayoung’s sleeping.”

( ♡ )

You asked for a day off.

You’ve rarely ever asked for them throughout your entire career because you were built on the mindset that at the end of the day, you’re also an employee no matter what gig you land. Be it the cameos you used to book with Yoongi or the titular characters you take from studio after studio, you’re still the employee who had worked her way up fairly.

You didn’t ask for it during that instance when you fell sick after back-to-back shoots because you didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. You didn’t ask for it when you woke up with the type of fatigue that settled in your body no matter how hard you closed your eyes or laid your head against the cushions.

You’ve never asked for it for your sake, but you’ve asked for a day off now because Jungkook’s leaving for a place you can’t come and go to as you wish.

Unlike your house or the hotels you book for him and Hwayoung to be at whenever you have to film out of town, Jungkook’s out of reach. He’s one call away, granted that your timezones match up and there’s a connection strong enough for it to continue without a hitch. He’s far from your grasp and he will be for months on end, and you don’t think you can ever stomach working on the same day he’s leaving.

“Are you seeing me off at the airport?” he asks during the car ride, voice audible enough for only you to hear and not Hwayoung who’s sprawled across both of your laps, sleeping soundly with her plushie that resembled Miso.

“I will, but I don’t think I can see you off near the gate. I can only manage up to here,” you answer honestly, willing yourself not to break down even if the both of you are still in the car, away from any prying eyes of the media that lurks outside. “So can Hwayoung,” you add, a large part of you being grateful that she’s asleep when Jungkook has to leave so neither of you would hear her cries.

Jungkook sees that hesitance in you, the same kind that softens him into fragments.

“It’ll only be for awhile, okay? Just for a few months,” he smiles tightly, rearranging his backpack next to him, the keyring that held Hwayoung’s second-favorite toy (not the ultimate favorite because she won’t ever let him take it) clattering loudly. “I love you,” Jungkook murmurs. “Do you know that?”

“Mhmm.”

“Say it back.”

You refuse to do so because saying it back feels finite, perhaps even forced, because although you love Jungkook, saying so at the moment only weighs you down as reality sinks in. “This is gonna be easy for us, right?"

“It’s not like we’ve never been in a similar set-up before,” he shrugs, the pout on his face casual as he tries to level with you.

“But this is different, Jungkook. This is beyond different. We have Hwayoung and now, we’re both working,” you stammer, chest rising and falling as you wrap your head around everything. “This— this isn’t Seoul to Jeonju. This isn’t a leave by day, come back by night type of trip. This is-…”

“You’re freaking out,” Jungkook interjects, his soft yet stern voice cutting through your thoughts as he lays a hand on your thigh, the platinum of his wedding band looking right up at you.

You surrender in defeat, not because you’re fighting with your husband, but because there’s simply no other answer he could ever conjure for you as to why this is happening.

“Why aren’t you? Why am I the only one scared?” you whisper.

“You’re not supposed to be.”

“Of course. It’s not like you— we put everything on the line,” you clear your throat, looking down on your shoes as you convince yourself. You ignore how you’re still not entirely aware of what’s with Jungkook’s project, other than the fact that Namjoon’s the screenwriter, all in favor of giving you a semblance of sanity before Jungkook leaves you and Hwayoung. “Right?”

( ♡ )

You wonder if Jungkook already ate breakfast.

You wonder if he ate the supposedly excellent in-flight meal that comes with first-class tickets, or if he ate the ramen he’s always had a penchant for eating especially during your trips, whether by land, sea, or air. You wonder if he’s grumpy with the altitude and the way he has to pop his ears ever so often, along with the way he always seems to be too long for airplane seats turned into beds.

You call but Jungkook doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll never not purchase in-flight wifi because he’d rather knock himself out than have to read a book or something of the sort. You message, but then again, your husband doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll much rather reply via text than to record a voice note because he’s shy with people hearing him in public spaces, albeit closed.

Hwayoung waits patiently beside you, swinging her legs back and forth on the couch as Miso stays up with her. She should’ve been in bed half an hour ago but you let her stay up with you, all in the pursuit of getting Jungkook to respond.

“Appa?” she asks again after a minute of you trying for her dad but through another app, her pout reminding you of Jungkook’s who’s unreachable.

You try not to frown in front of her, leveling yourself as you settle for kissing her forehead to cover up the sigh that originates deep from your chest.

“Not yet, Young-ie.”

.

.

.

There’s no text from Jungkook when you wake, but there is a picture of him in the buffet of the private lounge he’s staying at during his layover.

Atleast Jungkook did eat breakfast and Hwayoung was able to sleep without him (the first of what you dread is many), nevermind the dull thrum in your chest in Jungkook’s absence.

( ♡ )

Hwayoung's been behaved the whole time you were on set.

With Jimin prioritizing his voluntary role of being a babysitter to your daughter over his position of being a manager to you, you became instantly comforted at the reassurance that you're not in this situation alone.

It's only been a week since you started working right after Jungkook left, his absence rearranging every system you've previously had in place. You do your very best to have Hwayoung still thriving, and even just the reminder that you are succeeding at being the only present parent for the meantime melts all of your fatigue away.

Your trailer's more equipped for her than it is for you, the space apparently reminding Hwayoung of home so much that it's enough to make her remind you that Miso should go join the both of you sometime. Your dressing room's always been hers, and so has been the affection of everyone close to you.

“I take my role of godfather very seriously.”

Yoongi explains even if you haven't asked him anything. In fact, you weren't talking to begin with. It's not in his nature to talk for the sake of talking (that's Jungkook's), but even with Hwayoung in his arms and you still being lost in your thoughts, he can't help but to feel concerned.

“I can tell," you snicker, finally taking notice of the sight in front of you. The earpiece that was previously on Yoongi is now slung over Hwayoung's shoulder, obviously too big on her. She wanted it as an accessory (it reminds her of the toy stethoscope she'd put on Miso as a collar) and with Yoongi being himself, he can't bring himself to say no.

Your shooting day's nearly over and although today wasn't as long as your previous record of hours on end, you already seem exhausted. Yoongi, of all people, knows what scenes wear you out. You hated doing monologues as a rookie and still despise monologues (but with random, out-of-place advertisements in between) as a veteran — you’ve done neither today.

"What's with the frown?" he asks gently, not only because Hwayoung’s been quiet for the past two minutes and she’s getting groggy, but also because if he were to ask you any louder, he feels as if you’d break.

"It's nothing," you answer automatically, looking at Hwayoung to ground yourself. "Just usual family things, I guess."

"Trouble in paradise?" Yoongi asks with a chuckle, abruptly stopping his fit of amusement when he gets goosebumps starting from the tail of his spine. He instantly recognizes it as deja vu. "I've asked you this before, haven't I?"

The realization doesn’t hit you until he points it out.

"Mhmm," you hum absent-mindedly, playing with the hem of your dress. “I don't think the problem now is anything like how it was before, though."

One night several years ago, you and Yoongi were sat side-by-side in the booth of a club, the heartbreak you had over what Jungkook’s done (and haven’t, at the time) being the wedge between you.

Now, Yoongi’s standing in front of you while you’re sat down, your daughter with Jungkook in his arms.

“Me neither. I don't know how you and Jungkook can encounter any problem worse than last time, to be honest," he chuckles, shaking his head at the recollection of the hell you’ve been through. "Also, I think I can say that because I literally don't know what's going on with you. But if you do tell me-!"

"You're so nosy,” you snort, the brief moment of playfulness welcome because your head aches the longer that you dwell over your worries.

"I can be the judge to see if what you're going through now is worse than before," Yoongi shrugs to fake nonchalance, unaware that you’re gasping in awe until you kick him lightly in the shin.

Hwayoung’s asleep in his arms.

"She's never did that with anyone before," you murmur, fishing for your phone to take a picture, but not before quickly skimming to see if Jungkook’s sent you any messages; he hasn’t. “She only either sleeps in mine or Jungkook's arms. Not for my parents, not for my in-laws. Just me and him."

Yoongi smiles proudly, stroking Hwayoung’s hair proudly. "What can I say? I'm godfather of the year."

He only sways her gently back and forth, rocking her with the patience and attention that remind you of Jungkook’s when Hwayoung was a newborn.

You’re calm and quiet to see her adjusting so well already, but you can’t help but to feel lost because you feel the exact opposite. No one’s gonna stroke your hair for you and tell you to take your time — those are Jungkook’s tasks alone, yet your grievances are also because of him.

"Jungkook's producing this short film in the US. It's by his friend," you mutter under your breath after some time in silence. Yoongi flicks his eyes up at you as if you’re talking about the weather, careful not to make you feel more conflicted than you already are. “You know… by Namjoon.”

"Since when was he into that?" he asks out of curiosity, eyebrows furrowed because he didn’t know that your opening line would ever transition to this point in the conversation. Yoongi catches a second wind the longer he processes your words, the scoff that leaves his lips making his bangs loose despite the hairspray on them. “Since when did Jungkook and Namjoon belong in the same sentence?”

"I don't know either.”

"So we're both producers now?" he snickers, the teasing already coming natural. "Nepo husband alert."

You roll your eyes in recognition, clearing your throat as soon as the laughter died between the two of you. “We got into this argument and I don't know, I-I realized I was being selfish for a moment because I didn't want him to go at first, you know?" you admit in full sincerity, exhaling the lump that forms in your throat. “He said he was afraid that this is everything he'll be. My husband, Hwayoung's dad. So on and so forth."

Yoongi only listens this time, giving the occasional hum there to remind you that he’s still there.

"And last night, he, uh, he forgot to call," you gulp, already feeling the weight of your worries settle in your stomach. "The call wasn't even for me. It's for Hwayoung because he promised he'll still read her whatever she wants."

The three of you cherish that time together because normally, it happens as soon as you get home from work. Hwayoung’s long graduated from storybooks and has now branched out to the most ridiculous texts that Jungkook indulges her with nonetheless — from the ingredient list at the back of milk cartons, and all the way to Reddit threads of how cats find their way back home to owners.

"He's been secretive about the whole thing and I-I… I do that too with my projects, I get it. But only at first because I'm literally bound to an NDA," you stammer, pinching your nosebridge to get past the frustration. “I’m just-…!" you give up, admitting the truth. "I did some snooping."

"And?" Yoongi prompts, tilting his head in anticipation.

"I think he's been secretive because the main lead's Eunsu."

Yoongi recoils at that, so much so that it almost wakes up Hwayoung.

"Eunsu? As in Park Eunsu?" he repeats, the scowl on his face getting deeper the more that you stay indifferent. “Eunsu as in your nemesis?"

You relent, the mention of her finally hitting close.

"Nemesis sounds a little childish."

Yoongi scoffs immediately, rolling his eyes at your correction. “I mean yeah, because people keep pitting her against you when she doesn't even come close," he shrugs easily, make you tut in warning. "What? I'm just saying what everybody's been thinking."

To know that you can still confide in Yoongi no matter what comforts you — what doesn’t is that this time around, your gut feeling’s stronger than it had been the last time.

"I hope I'm wrong."

"I hope so too," he exhales, shaking his head in disbelief. "What kind of asshole sleeps with his wife's enemy?"

"Don't put that out there,” you grumble, the unintentional yet weird arrangement of words making you dizzy.

"Sorry. It's a metaphor, dummy," Yoongi surrenders, clearing his throat. "Okay. Retake. What kind of husband produces a film featuring his wife's rival?

"Hopefully not mine."

( ♡ )

It takes little effort to love you.

Loving you specifically doesn’t have to be hard.

Jungkook thinks that loving you isn’t hard when you serve as the peace to his otherwise hectic and turbulent mind. You manifest into the comfort he looks for in all seasons, be it the heat pack you wordlessly put in his coat pocket or the scrunchie you put around his wrist no matter the weather whenever his hair got too long.

You don’t text him at every hour of the day whether you were working or not, but you’ve made it a point to always check up on him multiple times even if the both of you are at home, going as far to randomly waking up in the night to pause your breathing and check up on his with a hand on his chest.

It’s easy love — one that could be grasped by everyone because as the world has proved to him time and time again, you’re easy to fall with and for.

You may not coo and awe at every single thing he utters, but the adoration behind your eyes always makes him warm from the inside because you held onto him, no matter how anticlimactic his stories could be.

Neither you and Jungkook are easy, that much he knows.

He knows it because although it’s never been his intention to come home late during his allotted short break between filming (it’s disguised as a break even if he only came back to take care of work-related matters personally), you make it known that you’re irked with him for every other reason.

He knows that you aren’t easy because for the past three weeks he’s been gone, you’ve reiterated twice in the last hour alone how you’ve asked him again and again who will star in his short film. You’ve asked Jungkook repeatedly to give you details outside of Namjoon and the vaguest bits he could ever give you, establishing the fact that he isn’t even bound to an NDA.

It’s the persisting barrage of questions in your head that bothers you without a single break. It’s the hovering feeling of doom above your head because having no answers to any of them, on top of Jungkook closing himself off with or without the physical distance between the two of you and being Hwayoung’s sole caregiver, that your patience ultimately thins.

Your annoyance towards your husband is clearly obvious and it bothers him to the point of frustration. Jungkook’s been convinced since last week that if he just dodged your questions for long enough and blamed it on the connection of your call, he wouldn’t have to answer to you; he wouldn’t have to explain the fine details of the project he’s kept from you.

If he had only avoided you for long enough, you would’ve forgotten about the rumors surrounding Namjoon’s upcoming screenplay that had been leaked to the press, and the roster of actresses thought out to be the main lead of his short film.

If he had only ignored your pleas for long enough, he would have never succumbed to the preliminary guilt that comes with lying to you under the impression that he’s only being protective, pushing him to drink until his vision spins — enough for him that when he admits the truth to you, your face of heartbreak directed at him isn’t as anguishing.

“Fine, fuck it! Since you’re so nosy, yes. Eunsu is my main lead, there! She’s my muse!” Jungkook just about yells, breathless from the burn of alcohol in his throat that spreads all the way to his chest, and from the back and forth he’s been going at with you for the last hour.

“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?!” you retort, fists clenching at your sides as the thought of Jungkook with Eunsu, with her of all actresses, in a foreign place at almost every minute of the workday irking you.

“Would it have made a difference? You’d still be angry at me,” he rolls his eyes, placing a hand on his hip as he tries to stabilize his gaze on you.

“And even then, you wouldn’t do anything about it, right? Because that’s just your nature, Jungkook,” you scoff, your dig at him being incredibly low yet you steel your pride, unwilling to back down at the thought that Jungkook’s been lying to you for three weeks– perhaps even longer.

He presses a tongue to his cheek as you pertain to the past loud and clear, the sarcastic nod he gives you making your breathing tremble.

“Why? Why does it have to be her?” you try again, this time with your jaw clenched so your anger won’t flare up because you’ve been dying to have a decent explanation from Jungkook for weeks.

“Why can’t it be her?” he counters. “B-because she’s what, she’s your rival or something? You’re jealous? Bitter?”

The knot in your chest tightens, the recall you have of the woman who had sabotaged you repeatedly when you were still a rookie putting a metallic taste on your tongue. She’s hindered you in ways that not even Yoongi could explain fully despite being the closest friend to you in the industry, the vitriol you’ve had for Eunsu in the past reviving back to life.

You have no words except for the fact that begs to be acknowledged without a single syllable.

“I’m your wife, Jungkook,” you exhale shakily, the gravity of it seemingly not enough for him because he refuses to use it as a reason to get on your side.

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think everybody knows that by now?” Jungkook spits. “When I’m producing my film with Eunsu, I don’t want to be your husband, Y/N! I’m sick of it,” he seethes. “Eunsu has nothing to do with me. Why should I fight your battles for you? Why do I have to carry your grudges for something that doesn’t even concern me?”

Jungkook’s the drunkest he’s ever been in his life, yet he utters the clearest words you’ve ever heard him say.

“This is showbiz, Y/N. It’s inevitable for you to get caught up with shit.”

“You’re talking as if being my husband and being Hwayoung’s dad is a chore.”

“Because maybe it is!” Jungkook bursts with a cry, the tears that spring out of his eyes momentarily blinding him. “Because maybe, I’m fed up trying to be sickeningly devoted to you all the time.”

There’s something akin to white, hot, searing pain that spreads across your chest all the way to your temple, the tremble of your lips not enough for Jungkook to realize that you’re on the verge of sobbing.

“Sometimes I hate this. I… I-I hate this life I’m living because of you, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers. “I hate how you’re so, so perfect in juggling everything. I hate how I could spend an hour just convincing Hwayoung to eat a single carrot and you come in the room, and she finishes the bowl with a smile on her face. I-I hate how you never complain whenever you need to do late night feedings after a long day because I’m already snoring. I hate how with or without work, you’re still just—…” he stills, looking at you with a distraught gaze. “You’re still so content. You’re still able to be yourself like you’ve always been.”

There’s no words left in you; no thought at all that could ever pick you up from the ground and gather yourself the way you’ve always had whenever you and Jungkook had felt the furthest from each other.

“Jungkook,” you sniffle, even if he waves you off half-heartedly. “I’m sorry if-…”

“There it is. There it fucking is again!” Jungkook whines, foot agitatedly stomping against the floor as he pulls at his hair. “You’re apologizing for being so perfect in life that it’s making me feel bad!”

“But I’m not! I’m far from it, what the hell are you talking about?” you rasp, the sarcastic laugh that goes past your lips making his ears ring. “I’m sorry if it seems that way but I’m telling you myself that everything is not perfect the way you make it out to be. I’m sorry because it makes you feel bad, but if anything-…”

Jungkook raises a finger at you, his jaw tightening the longer he stews in displacement.

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t tell me how content you are with everything despite being exhausted, or how you juggling everything is worth it. Don’t tell me how good of a dad I am."

“Then what can I say to make it lighter for you, Jungkook? What can I say that won’t make you resent me?” you grit in surrender, chest falling so lowly, you’ve forgotten to breathe for a long second. “Do you hate the life that we’re living now so much that you can’t even look at me?”

Love isn’t always a matter of ease and although it’s always stuck to you, you prove now that Jungkook coming home to you at this instance, in this light, that he makes love the most difficult thing.

“Do you hate the life that I gave you so badly?”

“I don’t,” he answers, mouth dry as his vision spins. “Sometimes. Tonight, though — maybe I do. It comes and goes.”

“Then what can we do about it?” you whisper, your vision hazy as you look at him. “Where do we go from here?”

“It’s getting late,” Jungkook only whispers, unwilling to look at the bed you share. “I have an early flight tomorrow.”

[babyyhoneyyy]

Trouble H.S

SURPRISE!!! i have a cutesy little one-shot (if you can even call it that 😭) just for you in celebration of my ONE MONTH TUMBLR WRITING ANNIVERSARY WOOH!! thank you to everyone who ever liked, shared, followed, replied, asked I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH THANK YOU for making me fall in love with writing all over again! i hope you like this one!

The one where Y/N is feeling needy, and Harry’s got the perfect solution for her.

word count: 3.6K

content warning: mature. nothing toooo crazy. meandom!bf!harry (WOOOH) but its no specific pairing <3

The first time Harry met Y/N was through their mutual friend, Freya, who essentially forced the two to go on a blind date.

Harry’s constant moping about how sad and lonely he was what finally convinced his considerate friend that he desperately needed to go on a date and be with someone romantically. Freya knew Harry’s sister, and Freya was one of Y/N’s oldest friends, so when she heard that Y/N was single, she didn’t waste another day to start convincing them to go out with each other.

Freya was always sort of naturally gifted— in the sense that she somehow ended up making the right choices based solely on her gut feelings and intuition.

Apparently she saw a dream; one which left her hell-bent on having her two friends date. She knew Harry was a caring, soft-hearted and friendly guy, and Y/N was an intelligent girl who wore her heart on her sleeve— in her eyes, there was no better match.

After weeks of pestering and convincing the two of them, they finally decided to give in to their friend and go out with each other on a single date.

Surprisingly, the date went way better than they both expected. Harry was lethally gorgeous, someone Y/N would never consider pursuing based solely on the fact that she thought he was way out of her league. His brown curly hair and pretty green eyes were roguishly charming, and he had a way with words that had Y/N constantly swooning.

They both drove to the outdoor theatre Freya bought them tickets for, and the whole time there, Harry was a teenage dream; he took her around the little stalls set up by the carpark and bought her cotton candy and popcorn, said something about her eyes and the lights strung up in the dim area which made Y/N’s tummy flip and tucked her right into his side in the middle of the little pallet he created in the back of his car.

She was blushing when he stroked his hand up and down her side, checking in with her after every thirty minutes to see if she needed anything. She was blushing when he stopped staring at the screen and opted to admire her instead, starting up a whispered conversation so as to not disturb the other movie-watchers, and she was blushing when at the end of the night, he cupped her jaw and softly asked her if it was okay to kiss her.

There was no way Y/N could ever say no to a face like his. Harry kissed her and it was amazing, she had butterflies and an infectious smile that just wouldn’t budge. That night was one of the best she’d ever had, and her heart fattened up tenfold the morning after as he gave her a call, promising her another date at his house.

He courted her properly; took her out on numerous dates before sleeping with her, didn’t play any games when he would text her and began every outing with a bouquet of roses presented to her. He was everything a girl could want, and he finally asked her to be his girlfriend on the fourth date, her hand in his and their ankles looped together beneath the dinner table.

Ever since then, Y/N felt satisfied with her lovelife in a way she never was before. Whereas before most of her past partners struggled with communication, Harry made the effort that both Y/N and him talked thoroughly about any and everything that might impact their relationship. Where Y/N previously felt suffocated sometimes because her partners didn’t give her enough space, she was able to have time for herself with Harry after she let him know how important that was to her.

It was a textbook, perfect relationship, where Harry was a doting boyfriend, and Y/N was treasured like the princess she always wanted to be.

That was until it came to their sexlife. Now, that was a whole other story.

The second the door to their bedroom shut, a flip was switched and Y/N was exposed to a side of Harry she never thought existed. He was stern and dominant, firm in his actions and he knew what he wanted every time they were in bed.

He was careful with her and sat her down (in true Harry fashion) before they first slept together to let her know of his preferences between the sheets. Of course, Y/N was still his girlfriend, and he valued nothing more than his partners consent and comfort when having sex.

It also was not Y/N’s first time stepping into the world of dominants and punishments and bondage and whatnot, but it was definitely her first time engaging in it with someone she really liked. She wanted to be perfect for him, and he wanted to be perfect for her.

Harry lucked out with Y/N, because she was immediately on board with his slightly different requests.

That led to their sexual chemistry being absolutely insane.

A couple of nights together later, Harry felt he knew Y/N’s body like the back of his hand, and Y/N felt she knew Harry’s like the back of her hand.

The first night they slept together, it wasn’t too crazy.

Maybe Harry held her wrists above her head as he fucked her into the mattress, and he might have given her a spank or two as they switched when she was on top. She was able to come whenever she wanted and Harry was ready to give her everything she needed.

The second time they slept together, Harry asked her to hold her arms behind her back while she sucked his cock, and Y/N sweetly asked Harry if he would just tie her hands together instead. The proposal had him stuttering for a second— obviously they spoke about dabbling in bondage before they decided to have sex, but he wasn’t expecting her to be ready to indulge in his tastes so soon.

Nonetheless, he did as she asked and took out one of his basic silk ties to bind her wrists together while he fucked her mouth and came all over her jaw.

Every time they slept together, they were able to take it another step further, and now, eleven months into the relationship, Y/N and Harry were well-versed with each other's sexual needs. They were both at a stage where they had discussed most of the kinks they were into, both willing to try new things if at least one of them was interested.

It was safe to say that they were both equally satisfied with their sexlife as with their practical life. The relationship just worked, and this was something they both valued greatly.

Tonight was one such night where Y/N wanted to celebrate that, i.e, whenever she saw fit, she was planning to ask Harry to kindly pound her into the mattress until she was silly. She was in that stage of her cycle— where she was drooling at the sight of Harry’s biceps and wanted nothing more than to chew on his veiny hands like a puppy.

She would have done something about it when they both woke up in the morning, with Harry looking like he walked straight out of a romcom in her softly-lit bedroom, but then he got a text from his work, on a fucking Saturday, pleading him to urgently hop onto a Zoom meeting which apparently couldn’t wait another forty-two hours. That way Y/N lost a clingy Harry who otherwise would have kept her in bed for at least two more hours after they woke, just making out and talking, touching bare skin and tangling nimble fingers.

Much to her dismay, the meeting ended up running until super late in the afternoon. By that time, Y/N was wet and sticky between her legs, with an angry pout on her face which depicted her intense frustration.

When Harry spotted her brooding in the kitchen, he came up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, “what’s got my girl all tense?” Y/N sighed and looked up at him, letting him thumb away her bottom lip.

Normally, Y/N would easily tell Harry that she was feeling needy and wanted his attention, but she was in a mood, and she felt like being a bit stubborn with him, taking out all her anger on her poor unsuspecting boyfriend. She crossed her arms over her chest, “nothing.”

She shrugged him off and turned around to grab the croissant she was microwaving when he circled his fingers around her wrist and pulled her to him again, “did I do something? Why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry,” she lied, “just… tired.” She put her croissant on a plate and dodged his frowny face as she sat down by the floating island.

“Baby, you know you can tell me if anything is wrong,” he said, “I’m happy to talk to you about whatever it is.” He sat down next to her and twisted his seat so he faced her.

The look on his face would have made Y/N fold, but she felt really mad at him, which was insanely unreasonable (because how exactly was Harry meant to know his girlfriend was so horny she was borderline murderous), but a girl had to release her frustrations somewhere.

“I told you I’m fine. Just tired,” she snapped. Harry was unfazed though— he knew something was up and she was giving him an attitude for no apparent reason. He didn’t react like she expected him to; instead, he knocked his knee into hers, “okay,” he reached to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

A beat passed.

“I’m gonna go see Sam for dinner tonight.”

Now that made Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up.

She had completely forgotten that Harry had plans with his cousin that weekend who was visiting the country from overseas. Harry had told her about it ages ago, but Y/N probably forgot and didn’t clock that it would be tonight.

She literally felt like she could cry at the thought of not having Harry for the night— what had gotten into her? Since when was she so fucking desparate?

Her thoughts surprised even herself as she masked her emotions as best as she could and frowned, “oh,” she bit off her croissant, “have fun.”

Harry’s eyes slightly narrowed watching her chew and avoid his gaze; something was bothering her and he knew her well enough to understand that she wouldn’t spill so easily. He waited for her to swallow before grabbing her jaw and pressing a kiss to her bottom lip. She tasted sweet, like the chocolate filling inside the pastry, and Harry struggled to pull himself away from nibbling at her lip. A ringed hand came up to her nape as he did, “I’ll miss you.”

The kiss did soften Y/N a little bit, so she mustered up a small, albeit sad, smile for her boyfriend. “Me too.”

-

The second Harry left the house, Y/N felt like she was going to die.

Not only did she feel all hot and bothered between her legs, but she was mad at Harry for leaving her in such a needy state to go have dinner with his cousin (in all honesty, it wasn’t the man’s fault, he wasn’t a mind reader for goodness sake, (but Y/N was not ready to admit that)). She huffed and puffed a little bit and rolled around her bed, wondering if she should just give in and touch herself.

The issue was that it wasn’t that simple; ever since she started sleeping with Harry, her fingers or any of her toys just didn’t seem enough. She always found herself craving something else— something warmer, and longer, able to touch all of her favourite spots, throbbing—

She was losing her mind.

She needed a way to channel all this horniness, and the easiest outlet at the moment was being angry at Harry.

All these thoughts lead to a sinister idea that materialised in her head. Y/N was quick to get up from her self-wallow spot on the bed and made her way over to her closet. She pulled open her lingerie drawer and fished around for one of her prettier, darker coloured sets. She spotted one of her favourites— a red three piece, with lace panties and an almost see-through bra. To wear on top was a short little nightie, which was sleeveless and mostly lace and pinned together in the middle or her chest where the two cups of her bra met.

Y/N hurried to the bathroom, giddy to execute the plan she was concocting and put on the lingerie. It was a shade of red that especially enhanced her complexion and sat perfectly on her body. The bra made her tits look luscious, spilling over the fabric and the panties sat high on her hips. To top it all off was the nightie, which reached the top of her thighs and flowed when she twirled.

This was one of her sets that Harry had not been privy to— she only recently bought it on a shopping trip with her friends. She was originally planning to whip it out on their one year anniversary which was coming up, but she thought tonight would suffice too; she’ll get another set for their anniversary or something.

Y/N admired herself in the mirror for a bit. The lingerie did look really good on her. She knew a special someone would enjoy it even more than she did. This was the crux of her plan; she was going to show Harry what he was missing.

Quickly, Y/N grabbed her phone off the mattress and faced the full length mirror that hung next to her closet door. She opened the camera app and turned off the lights, so only the soft lighting of her lamp illuminated the right side of her body. The vibe she was trying to give off was sexy and romantic, and she did just that as she took a couple of photos of herself in the mirror in various poses— crossing her legs so her hips looked more fuller, resting a hand on one of her tits and one of her from behind, with her panties disappearing between her ass cheeks.

After she was satisfied with the photos, she took off the nightie and tugged on one of Harry’s t-shirts, grinning down at her phone. She looked hot, and she knew he would think so too. In an act of defiance, Y/N clicked open her and Harry’s chat and sent him two of her favourite photos; one of her from the front, and one from the back.

Her tummy fluttered with anticipation as she stared at her screen, and a few seconds later it showed that Harry had seen the message. Poor Harry, who probably thought his girlfriend would be asking him what time he’d be home, or telling him how much she missed him… except she was telling him how much she missed him, but her means of doing so were a little bit eccentric.

For a while the screen only showed that he saw the picture, until, about a minute later, she saw the three dots that signalled that Harry was typing. The icon showed for about fifteen seconds before disappearing. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she wondered what Harry was possibly about to say. She anticipated a text from him, still waiting for her screen to show the notification but it didn't— not for the next fifteen minutes, or the next hour or three.

She didn’t hear back from him and just that thought alone had her heart in her throat and her nails between her teeth. What was he going to type back? What did he think of the photos? Did he not like them? Were they only good in her horny, sex-driven brain?

The next three hours were spent pacing in her room, and then panic cleaning the living room and the kitchen. She was feeling antsy, unable to sit down peacefully. Y/N wasn’t one to pull risky moves such as that one, so she had no idea what to expect of Harry and what he thought of her little stunt.

By time she was done vacuuming the whole apartment, it was 9PM . Soon enough, she heard the rattle of Harry’s keys by the door. Her fingers twiddled in anticipation and she awkwardly stood by the kitchen island when he walked in.

He looked handsome as ever, dressed in slacks and a black button up. His hair was pushed back and he was freshly shaved, skin as smooth as a baby’s bum. Y/N nervously walked up to him. She was wary as she met his gaze, “hey. How was dinner?”

Harry looked at her intently, literally peering into her soul— and shrugged, “was fine.”

He went into the kitchen and grabbed a glass to fill it with water. Y/N stood dumbfounded behind him.

Did he not remember seeing the photos?

“How was Sam?” She asked. She walked over to him and leaned against the counter next to the sink so she faced him. Harry didn’t say anything as he finished his water and then took his phone and wallet out of his pocket. He set the two on the counter and then began taking off his rings; first the two with his initials on them, then followed the tiger on his left pinky, and then the golden ring with a blue crystal embedded in the middle which Y/N gave him for his birthday.

The sound of the rings hitting the counter felt like bricks falling from the sky in the oddly quiet living room. Just as Y/N was going to ask if he heard her or not, Harry spoke up, facing away from her, “looked like you had fun when I was gone.”

“Um… I d—“

“I was showing something to Sam on my phone when you sent those fucking pictures. He could have seen them.” His voice was cold and biting, and when he turned around to face her, his jaw was clenched. Y/N felt her cheeks burn, “how was I supposed to know that?” she retorted.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You know better than to text me nudes when I’m in public, Y/N. I thought you needed something and was about to open the fucking message in front of him.”

Y/N was speechless, feeling her mouth open and close as she watched him approach her and wrap a hand around the nape of her neck, tangling in her hair slightly. He didn't squeeze or anything, just held her and tipped her head back.

A look of realisation came over his face as he darted his eyes across hers, “unless you wanted him to see it too,” he started, voice low, “we already know how much of a slut you are.”

She felt that familiar zing in her lower belly at his words, raising her hands to grab his shirt.

“Hands off.”

Hands off. Easy. She knew how to listen.

Harry let go of her neck and turned her around in his grip, holding her hands behind her and pressing his chest to her back. She could feel his hard length pushed right up against her.

He spoke softly in her ear, “what’s your colour?”

She breathed in sharply, “green.”

Green, green, green.

This was exactly what Y/N was craving the whole day, and she wouldn’t be caught dead complaining about her current circumstances.

Harry sighed, scarily calm.

“Y’know, I felt so bad the entire time I was there. All I could think about was m’pouty girl I left at home,” he confessed. Y/N whimpered at his words and his touch as one hand travelled up to cup her breast.

“I jus’… I missed you and then you had that meeting for so long. I was feeling… needy.”

Harry tsked. “Poor baby,” he mocked, pinching her nipple through her shirt and bra. He pressed a line of open-mouthed kisses to the skin where her shoulder met her neck. The sensation was enough to make Y/N close her eyes and let her head fall back against his chest, “s’that why you sent those pictures? My girl just wanted some attention?”

“Yes, sir.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, his hand quickly slipped higher to push his middle and ring finger into her mouth, deep enough that the initial shock made her gag. He stroked his fingers along her tongue shamelessly and tightened his grip on her hands. “I was gonna come home and give you my tongue. Make you come over and over and over, until you were feeling better. But now, I don’t think you should be able to come at all.”

Y/N whined pitifully over his fingers. She was sort of drooling as well, but Harry didn’t seem to mind. He withdrew his fingers and trailed them down her thigh, finding the edge of her (his) shirt. He left a wet line as he inched higher and higher, until he came in contact with her panties.

He groaned right into her ear when he felt the lace under his fingers, “fuck, you’re still wearing it?”

It was not really a question, because Y/N was not given any time to answer him. Instead, she yelped as he shoved her over the counter and flipped her shirt up. His hand smoothed over her ass and forced her into an arch, coming down on the skin with a sharp smack. Y/N cried into the marble, body jolting forward with the force of the impact. He gripped and kneaded the flesh right after, and then dropped his hand between her legs to feel how wet she was.

“Oh, baby… you’re soaked,” he noted and sighed. His fingers pressed deliciously against the lace, stimulating her clit just right. Y/N whined pitifully, “p—please, sir—“

Harry spanked her covered leaky pussy, shutting Y/N up effectively. She moaned.

“I don’t want to hear a single sound from you,” he ordered, “not right now, not when I’m eating you and not when I’m fucking this slutty cunt. Not a single word, nor a stutter.”

divider by @firefly-graphics

general taglist: @theotherwomannnn @babegoalsreads @harryslounge @angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf

@vashapnin @in-omn1a-paratus @youngpastafanmug @cohnfusedarling

HIIII!! ME AGAIN!!! i hope you enjoyed this tiny little piece teeheehehehe!!! let me know your thoughts i love love love to hear them!! THANK YOU thank you THANK YOUUU FOR ALL THE LOVE YOU HAVE SHWON ME IN THE PAST MONTH!! I APPRECIATE YOU ENDLESSLY!! MWUAH!! RMMBR TO LIKE REBLOG REPLY YADA YADA KISS KISS GOODNIGHT!! ILYYYYYYY

MASTERLIST

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @vgilantee

A/N: Thank you so much for commissioning again! And specially for trusting me with an idea to write it as I want, means a lot! <3

Request: fem/afab cat hybrid reader and first time taking werewolf boyfriend’s knot?

Plug you up to shut you up

Werewolf x cat-hybrid fem!reader || dom/sub undertones, phone sex (kinda), edging, orgasm denial, knotting, oral sex

“It won’t fit,” he told you for the thousandth time.

“Yes it will,” you argued, also a for the thousandth time. Your tail moving around in agitation. You weren’t asking much of him, just for his knot. You two had been dating for a few months, you deserved to be stretched and stuffed, didn’t you?

“No it won’t. Stop asking about it, you’ll get hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you.” His worry was adorable and you wanted to hug him about it, but also scratch his face because he was being way too nice about it.

“I won’t get hurt!” You argued again.

“Yes you will, you are tiny and your pussy is just too tight for it to fit.” His voice was exasperated, like he was arguing with a kid, or like he was a dom arguing with his bratty sub… Which was pretty much what was happening right there.

“Pretty please…” You asked, looking up at him, blinking slowly, trying your best innocent look.

“No,” he repeated. But you saw a hint of a smile in the corner of his lips. He was going to agree, you just needed to try a bit harder.

“Pleaaaaaaaaase…” you repeated, pouting. You caressed his chest slowly and acted all coy. He loved when you did that.

He sighed. “Ugh. I hate you.”

You jumped, happily and hugged him around his middle. “No you don’t, you love me so much you are going to stuff me with your knot.”

He grabbed your wrist and kissed you until you were out of breath. When you broke apart, he told you: “Okay, but we need to do some prep first.”

“What kind of prep?” You asked, already suspicious of his intentions.

That’s how you found yourself wearing a plug in the middle of the day. He bought some kind of special plugs that were made exactly for your purpose. There were five of them and you were supposed to change them during the day leading to the knotting. He did a lot of research before buying them and was so serious about it that you couldn’t be mad about it. He was adorable, like a puppy.

He woke you up earlier that morning, knowing he had to go to work, just so he could eat you out and plug you with the first size. It was a bit uncomfortable to move around, but you could deal with it. It was fine. You made breakfast and worked for a bit before he video-called you.

“Hey darling, what do you want?” You asked, busy with your latest drawing. You had a deadline soon and wanted to do as much as possible as fast as possible.

“It’s time for you to change the plug,” he reminded you. There was an edge in his voice, the exact same edge as the one he had when he was ready to push his dick inside of you. Fuck, how was the tone of his voice so fucking hot? Being madly in love with a werewolf was fucking with your brain, you now got wet when he talked. Just talked. Insane, you were going completely insane.

“Yeah, right. Will do,” you answered, not paying too much attention to him as you reached to end the call.

He stopped you. “Hey wait! I want to see.”

You looked back at the phone like he grew a second head. “What?”

“I called so I could see as you change it. I want to see.” His voice was pleading, but demanding. The idea of him calling you just to see your pussy was making you all kinds of hot and bothered, and it was annoying. But you agreed, because it was making you all kinds of hot and bothered. Fuck, you wanted to cum so bad.

You positioned your phone so the frontal camera was looking at your pussy, your face extremely red as you parted your legs. You could hear his intake of breath as you parted your lips and he saw the base of the plug still inside. His grunt of pleasure made you whimper as you pulled the plug out. Your pussy gaped as he groaned.

“Fuck, kitten, look at you. It looks so puffy and swollen for me. You are going to look so pretty wrapped around my knot.” You blushed harder, trying to insert the second size without knocking off the phone. You whimpered again when it made contact with your swollen clit. “Fuck, do that again. Touch your pretty pussy for me, kitten.” His growl was so deep it made you groan. You complied, running the plug up and down your slit and getting it all wet. You were so ready to come you wanted to beg. “That’s enough, kitten. You can’t come, remember? I told you that this morning.” You whimpered, but obeyed. You wanted to be a good kitten. You pushed the plug inside, feeling the stretch but still comfortable with it. “Good job, you are doing perfectly. How does that feel?”

“Go- good.” Your voice broke down when you lowered your leg and the plug pressed against your G-spot. Fuck. This one was going to be harder.

“I will call you later for the next size. Love you, bye!” His cheerful nature annoyed you to no end. He called you, got you all hot and bothered and then had the audacity to forbid you from coming and then hang up on you. Fucking werewolves (affectionately).

It went exactly like that three more times. Each size up was harder and harder to adapt to. You felt so stretched and needy you wanted to grind against every single surface, unable to sit down since size three. You had been standing around, trying to clean but failing. Every time you bent down to pick something, it pressed against your G-spot and you saw stars. When the fifth plug was inside of you, you couldn’t hold it anymore and had to call him.

He picked up at the second ring. “Please… Please come home. I- I need…” You whimpered, unable to keep talking.

“I’m on my way, go strip and wait for me on the bed. Face down, ass up. Be a good kitten for me.” He instructed. You followed his instructions without even processing them. “Don’t hang up on me, talk to me, tell me what you did today.” You could hear him walking around, closing the door to the car. The anticipation was killing you.

You tried to tell him, to distract yourself so you wouldn’t grind onto the bed until you came all over yourself. You told him about your new project, about the art supplies you wanted to get, and he listened and asked questions. Without realizing he arrived home.

You heard the door closing as he hung up the phone and ran to the bedroom. You were exactly how he instructed, face down, ass up. Your tail was going crazy from side to side waiting for him. You felt on the edge of the biggest orgasm you’d ever felt, and he was just standing there.

“Please…” Your plea broke him out of his stupor, tearing off his clothes as he approached the bed.

“Good goddess kitten, you look good enough to eat. Are you ready? Do you still want this? You can say no.” He was always so sweet that you wanted to cry, but at that moment it infuriated you.

“Knot me already!” You cried out, more than ready. You always appreciated when he asked stuff and asked for consent beforehand, but in that moment you were beyond any questioning, you wanted to be filled. You wanted to be stuffed with his knot.

He didn’t comment anymore, he lowered his pants and threw them someplace behind him. You could hear something breaking, but you didn’t care. He slowly but surely took the plug out as you cried out his name, grinding back against air as your gaping pussy dripped with fresh juices. You were so turned on you could cry. Maybe you were crying already. You couldn't feel anything apart from his hand on your hip and the tip of his cock at your entrance.

He didn’t ask anymore. He pushed right in and you groaned, coming instantly around him. Your claws tearing through the bed sheets. He grunted behind you, not stopping. He held your hips secure as your arms went limp under you and you face-planted to the bed. He kept fucking into you and telling you how pretty you looked, how good your pussy felt around his shaft. You came at least twice more before you felt the knot forming.

“Do you want it? Tell me you want my knot, kitten.” His voice was soft and demanding, and it made your insides melt. You loved that stupid werewolf so much you could squeeze him until he disappeared. But right now you needed his knot more than anything.

“Yes. YES. Knot me!” He didn’t wait anymore. He pulled your tail up, making you scream as he pushed his fat knot inside your pussy. Your eyes crossed and your brain turned off. The only thing you could feel was the stretch of his knot and the first shot of his cum deep inside.

“Does that feel good, kitten? Do you like to be so full you can’t even talk?” He chuckled at your blissed out face. “Guess it does, you love it, don’t you?” He rolled his hips and you opened your mouth to say something, but you could only drool in pleasure, too fucked out to even control your saliva. Embarrassing. But so fucking good you could die impaled on his cock and you’d die a happy cat. “If I had known all it took for you to shut up was to fill you to the brim I would have done it sooner.” You tried to argue with him but when you opened your mouth the only thing that you could do was moan as your eyes rolled back into your head. It was insane how big he felt inside of you, how stretched you felt. It was like you were going to break apart, but at the same time, his knot was the only thing keeping you together.

By the time the knot went down, he was still grinding inside of you, your pussy raw and abused. It felt like pain and pleasure mixed in the most excruciating sensation you’d ever felt. As soon as his knot deflated, he was there, tongue and fingers and playing with your used hole. He licked and sucked and made out with your pussy until you were coming again. And then another time. Your body couldn’t hold you up anymore, and you gave up trying.

“I like you like this, limp and fucked out. We should do that again.” His voice was cheerful and animated, and you wanted to scratch his face for being so fucking annoying. But good lord if you didn’t want to be fucked like that again. “I take that groan as a yes,” he said with a laugh.

Ugh, fucking werewolves.

Reminder that you can also commission me, info here.

[lampiridaes]

♬ now playing: "falling for you"

-> don't you see me? i think i'm falling for you (fallingforyou - the 1975)

summary. various hsr men realizing they're in love with you

chars. dan heng , sunday , aventurine , jing yuan

notes. THIS ONE IS FOR U MIZU-ANON (still gonna call u that despite the username change) had sm fun writing this. i am a biiiiig loser for these types of tropes i need to admit it. I HOPE WHEN U READ THIS U ENJOY MIZU-ANON!!!!!! LOVE U <3

contains. fluff, pre-established relationship, spoiler-free, reader is a trailblazer but not the trailblazer, march & trailblazer mentioned (dan heng), 'pretty' used as a compliment for reader (jing yuan)

inspired by -> this post!

track one: dan heng

staying up late talking to you. dan heng tends to pull all-nighters, but he never expected you to join in one time. it was actually a bonding moment—he felt as if you grew closer since that day. it wasn't exactly a deep talk, it was more like an icebreaker. compared to march and the trailblazer, dan heng was much more reserved, so you saw a different side to him that night. one that you ended up seeing more and growing quite fond of.

always turning their head if your name is mentioned. every morning when the express crew gets up and eat breakfast together, dan heng finds himself always looking over whenever someone calls you. "[name], let's share!" march 7th would exclaim, then the black-haired man's attention immediately turned to your direction.

... and when you notice that a certain someone is staring at you, you make eye contact and smile, which seemed to have flustered him a little. ah, he's growing smitten, slowly.

track two: sunday

realizing certain traits about you that he finds endearing, your curiosity being the most prominent one. with sunday being a halovian, you couldn't help but admire his features, namely his wings. yet you were far too shy to ask if you could touch them—after all, what if he were to feel uncomfortable? but, to your surprise, sunday was the one that offered, finally acknowledging your silent wish. his wings were undeniably soft, but also quite sensitive, fluttering away from your touch. at first, you thought you did something wrong, but judging from the light blush on the oak family head's face, you could tell he actually enjoyed it.

realizing he's in a better mood when you're in a good mood. being head of the oak family, sunday has a tough job. and yet, when he sees you smiling to yourself, sometimes even attempting to help him in any way you can, sunday finds an odd warmth in his chest. one he doesn't experience quite often.

track three: aventurine

the first smile you share. sometimes you wonder whether or not aventurine is serious in certain situations. sometimes you wonder if he's even your friend or if he's using you in a gamble you aren't even aware of. but that one fateful day when he met your gaze and smiled, you could feel your heart skip a beat. aventurine constantly wears a confident smirk, one that makes him seem like someone to be weary of. and that smile of his... perhaps you were the lucky one this time.

flirting with you. actually, your friendship as a whole had some... weirdly romantic undertones, but after a while, the both of you sort of started to truly think about the entire thing. was he serious when he said that you were the only person he wanted? were you serious when you said you wouldn't mind it if he kissed you? only one way to find out, no?

track four: jing yuan

getting things that remind him of you. whether it'd be a shiny trinket he figured you'd like, or even an expensive piece of jewelry, jing yuan slowly started gifting you different things quite frequently. and whenever you'd ask, his response would always be, "it looks pretty, just like you."

finding time for you and spending his free time around you. it's no secret that jing yuan is a busy man, being the general of the luofu. and yet, after those hours are finished, or he managed to catch a break in the middle of the day, he always looks for you somewhere in exalting sanctum and ask if you'd like to take a short stroll with him. you answer yes every time.

[coff33andb00ks]

Lando, 43

43: raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly

requests closed until I catch up <3

"Are you a romantic person?"

He smiles, biting into the chip and casting his eyes downward briefly. "When I - When I need to be," he says with a little smile.

Oh the way fans ate that up. Your feed on Instagram and TikTok and even fucking Twitter were inundated with that clip for weeks, and you still see edits of it, and anytime you post him or include him in your stories the comments come rolling in, asking if he's been romantic lately.

Joke was on them, because he was always romantic. It's wonderful, truly, even if it did frighten you at first. Surely a man that actually did the romantic things was a total red flag? No one really sent flowers for no reason. Or called even when they only had ten seconds to talk. Or wanted to stay on FaceTime while you got ready for the day or ready for bed. No one ever said we don't have to talk I just want to feel like I'm with you and meant it unless they were toxic.

And you knew that no man in the history of ever - except in movies and books - had ever learned the lyrics to a love song from like 50 years ago so he could sing them in a karaoke bar. Or have his friend video it so he could send it to you. And then proceed to sing bits and pieces of it every day.

At least, no man before him. He did.

Lando Norris, the most romantic man to exist.

He's singing it now, and you wonder if he even knows he's doing it because it's soft, under his breath. You smile as you listen to him in the kitchen, dishes softly rattling while he unlaods the dishwasher.

"And you come to me on a summer's breeze, keep me warm in in your love..." He begins humming and you turn your attention back to your work, his humming fading as you focus. It's not until he touches your shoulder that you notice he's in the room.

"Hey," you murmur, smiling up at him.

"Your tea's getting cold, love." He reaches across the keyboard and saves your work. "Screen break."

You obediently turn away from the computer and reach for your tea. "Thank you. Sorry I've been in here almost all day every day this week."

Lando shakes his head. "You don't have to apologize for working. I know how much you love it."

"I feel bad, like I'm neglecting you." You set your cup of tea down and stand, winding your arms around his waist. "How about I fix dinner tonight?"

"Gonna feed me and take me on a walk?" He's teasing so you don't take offense, tipping your head back for his kiss. "I'll help, yeah? Or we could go out."

"But I love cooking for you."

"You just wanna get me fat so no one else will steal me away," he snorts, hands sliding down your arms and pulling them from around him.

You open your mouth to argue that but he's taking your hands in his, humming the song again. Sighing at the gentleness of his touch, you feel warmth and adoration squeeze around your heart as he lifts your hand. And fall in love all over again when he bends to press a kiss to your knuckles.

Knees: weak. Heart: skipping a beat. Eyes: glowing. Butterflies: fluttering in your stomach.

"Let's start dinner yeah?" he asks.

[gloomwitchwrites]

You send him a text "Thanks for the flowers, babe" attached with a photo of a bouquet as a prank. Obvs, he gets jealous/possessive.

Anon, I love this. I cackled the first time I read it, and I've been wanting to get to it for a while. There are so many requests (and I will get to them all), but with my health being shit, I'm trying to select from the pool where I'm not overworking my brain or stressing myself out trying to come up with something. This prompt came very naturally to me.

These are all spicy. Period. I didn't hold back with this one. Maybe I'm ovulating or some shit but I literally couldn't write anything but smut for this prompt. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, dirty talk, praise, spanking, oral sex (female & male receiving), face fucking, restraints, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, jealousy, possessive behavior, orgasm control

Word Count: 4.4k

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it, attention stuck on Price who stands in front of a large map of Europe.

There are pictures—some have a red “X” through them while a couple others have black question marks. The mission isn’t done, but that isn’t surprising. This has taken months to complete. It’s been slow, and entirely too complicated for Simon’s liking.

His phone buzzes again, the vibration pulling his attention away.

When the third buzz comes in, his agitation turns to worry. Simon never allows messages to come through at work unless it’s from very specific people. To have three come through in less than two minutes stirs something in his gut.

Price starts talking again but Simon’s brain is melting. He reaches into his pocket and fishes out his phone. Keeping it next to his thigh, Simon awakens the screen.

Your name is there and 3 new messages.

Simon glances up, but no one is looking at him. Silently, he unlocks the phone and clicks over to his messages, tapping on your name.

At first, Simon doesn’t understand. His brain short-circuits, and then unbridled jealousy comes roaring forward.

The first message is a photo of a beautiful bouquet sitting on the kitchen island. It’s fucking large, taking up most of the space. The flowers are different shades of pink, yellow, and orange. It looks like spring.

Beneath the picture are two texts.

Thanks for the flowers!!

I love you!

But Simon did not get you flowers. He didn’t order these, and he certainly didn’t have them delivered to the flat.

Fuck. What the actual fuck.

Someone else did this.

Simon’s first thought is that Johnny did it to prank him. But Johnny has been a bit subdued today, and his attention isn’t on Simon at all.

No. It’s likely not him.

Simon locks his phone and stews. He can’t just leave this meeting. It’s important, but he’s going to get to the fucking bottom of it.

By the time Price dismisses them, Simon is already out the door, charging toward his locker to grab his stuff. It usually takes him a half hour to arrive home, but today he does it in twenty. When Simon bursts through the front door, he’s ready to toss those flowers right off the balcony.

But then he sees your face—how happy you are—and Simon melts. You throw yourself into his arms, and Simon instinctually responds, embracing you tightly. He presses his face into your hair and inhales.

“Missed you,” you say, grabbing both sides of his face and kissing him. “Thank you for the flowers.”

I didn’t get you any flowers.

Simon smiles because it’s all he can manage. That jealousy from earlier starts to curl back up, twisting around in his ribcage.

“Did you like the note?”

You frown. “What note?”

The way you ask is…odd. It’s far too innocent in the presentation. Simon knows your cues and this seems forced to him. But the sender didn’t leave a message. That doesn’t give Simon much to go on if he’s going to track down who sent them.

“Maybe they forgot,” he replies, kissing your forehead. “Show them to me.”

With a bright smile, you take his hand, guiding him into the kitchen. They’re much more stunning in person and Simon momentarily freezes. Did he forget your birthday? An anniversary? An important event?

Simon recalls nothing for today’s date.

The jealousy rises again but he clamps down on it. Anyone could have sent this, especially a friend of yours or a family member. Doesn’t mean there is someone out there with predatory intentions. And for all Simon knows, you’re having a laugh, riling me up. You’ve done it before.

“They’re lovely,” observes Simon. “Better than the picture.”

Your grin is gorgeous, a thing Simon wants to bottle up. You open your mouth to answer him but the dryer goes off. “Hold on,” you call over your shoulder as you dash away. “Let me change over the loads.”

When you disappear, Simon goes for the bouquet. He quickly checks through every flower and between the stems, even sticks his fingers in the dirt. Simon doesn’t know what the fuck he’s looking for, but he’s grasping for anything.

The only thing of note is the business card which Simon quickly plucks from its holder and tucks into his pocket. Simon steps away from the bouquet when you appear again.

Jealousy is stewing, showing its fangs, curling tighter around Simon’s ribs.

When you reach for him, Simon sweeps you off your feet, planting you on the kitchen island. You giggle, but Simon cuts it off, drawing you to the edge to seize your lips in a fierce kiss.

That jealous viper between his bones tells him to possess you.

Simon’s hands drop to your waist and then your hips. He settles himself between your legs, hands moving down to your bare thighs.

You’re flushed with embarrassment, attempting to hide your face from him, giggling his name as you fist his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” rasps Simon.

Your lips part and Simon slides his tongue inside. You moan, suck on his tongue, and release him. Simon’s grip on your thighs tightens.

“All day?” you ask softly.

Moving his hands to beneath your thighs, Simon tugs you into his arms and carries you over to the dining room table, but doesn’t place you on top of it. He brings you to your feet, and then his fingers curl around the shorts that are little more than underwear.

“Take these off.”

“Simon—”

“Do it,” he growls, releasing them and bringing his hand back to his side.

Slowly, you do as he says. You bring them up so that Simon can see them before tossing them to the side. That viper in him hisses, the venom leaking into his system.

Simon slides his hand between your thighs. You lean back against the table, hands resting on the edge as you part your legs. What his fingers find only makes him groan.

Withdrawing, Simon licks his fingers clean. “Turn around. Bend over the table. Show me what I want.” With a smirk on your lips, you face the table, and bend forward, going up on your toes.

Fuck the flowers and whoever sent them. You’re his.

Simon unbuckles the front of his belt, undoes the zipper of his pants, and frees his aching cock. He needs to be inside you, to hear you say his name, to feel you come around him. He needs to possess because it’s the only thing he can do right now.

Guiding with his hand, Simon rubs the head of his cock through your slickness. You’re already so wet for him—so fucking needy, and he’ll devour it all. Give you exactly what you want while taking something for him.

As he starts to slide in, you whimper. Reaching back, your hand grabs your ass, opening yourself a bit wider for him.

Bloody hell.

Simon doesn’t want to go slow. Using his grip on your hip, he slides all the way in, making you take him to the hilt with one forward thrust of his hips.

Your gasp is choked, and then Simon is lost, pounding into you as if this is the last time he’ll ever fuck you. It’s only your tightness, your breathy moans of pleasure, and the desperate why you say his name. It wraps around him, satiates the viper, calms the rising jealousy until it’s only you Simon can focus on.

Through the haze, Simon finds your clit, plays with it, slows his thrusts until your orgasm arrives, squeezing him so tight he almost finishes right then and there. But once that wave crests and crashes, Simon is back at it. Planting both hands on the table on either side of your waist, Simon stutters out, his lower back tensing, everything draw up.

Simon’s orgasm is an unraveling. All the tension melts as he finishes, and even then, he continues to thrust, pushing his cum deeper inside you. His chest heaves, body shuddering as he draws back a bit. Your breathing is just as labored.

Easing out of your body, Simon admires the bloom of cum at your entrance. He presses it back inside before helping you unbend from the table. Turning you around to face him, Simon claims your mouth in a deep kiss, his grasping the back of your head.

You form to him, and Simon’s hunger flares.

“To bed,” he says, drawing you away with a tug on your hair.

“To sleep?” you ask, smirking.

Maybe you did all this. Planned it all from the beginning.

Naughty girl.

Simon shakes his head. “Not yet.”

He releases you, and then smacks your ass for good measure. Squeaking, you scurry away toward the bedroom. Simon stands there for a moment, composing himself. Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws the business card. There is an address and a phone number.

Glancing over his shoulder at the bouquet, Simon comes to a decision. Stalking toward his duffle, Simon secures the business card in a side pocket. He’ll deal with this at work.

Right now, you’re getting undressed.

And Simon is much more interested in that.

Flowers can wait.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You send the final text and lock your phone, leaving it on the coffee table.

It’s just a little prank. A tease.

Kyle is always a gentleman even when he makes your toes curl and pulls unseemly sounds from between your lips. But riling him up can be just as fun. Kyle isn’t one to be jealous or even possessive of you. He’s certainly protective, and his presence always makes you feel safe, but you’re aching for something else right now.

The flowers weren’t all that expensive. And they are pretty.

Your phone buzzes. You ignore it.

It buzzes again.

When you check the screen, you see two new texts from Kyle. You stare at it, and set it back down. You’re going to let him stew and question. If anything, Kyle might think the flowers innocent.

Tapping your fingers against your knee, impatience stirring in your belly, you stare out the patio door. You need to distract yourself, but the urge to look is too strong. Snatching the phone back up, you glance at the messages.

That’s sweet, love.

But I didn’t get you flowers.

Honesty. This man is terrible at lying or hiding his feelings.

You tap out a reply.

Of course you did! Loved the note you left with it!

Kyle’s reply is instant.

Note?

You nearly cackle at the ceiling and when you hit send.

I want you tonight. You know you can have me whenever lol. No need to send flowers about it.

Within seconds of you hitting send, you phone starts to vibrate. Yelping, you nearly drop the thing. Kyle’s name and a photo of him at the beach pop up on your screen. You stare at it, allowing it to go to voicemail. He calls again immediately.

You launch off the couch, pacing as the phone falls back into voicemail. It’s a bit thrilling knowing that Kyle is likely worked up on the other end.

Answer the phone, comes Kyle’s next text, and then, I’m coming home.

Oh shit.

You are all nervous excitement waiting for him. And when he does come barreling through the door, you’re a bit shocked at the sight of him.

Slowly, he shuts the front door, striding into the kitchen where the bouquet is. He stares at it for a long moment before turning his gaze on you.

“Kyle,” you say brightly, walking toward him.

He holds up a finger and walks past you. You hear the opening and shutting of doors, of drawers being opened, and items moving around. Kyle returns, hands on his hips, concern on his features.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I didn’t send you those flowers.”

“Didn’t you?” you reply, innocently, moving toward them.

Kyle shoots forward and begins digging through the stems. “Where is that bloody card?” he mutters.

There is no card. No note. You made it all up.

“Kyle,” you say, but he ignores you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he says, ripping opening the plastic to see inside.

“Kyle,” you repeat, adding a bit of volume behind your voice.

Again, he ignores you, scattering the flowers across the countertop.

“When I find the fucking wanker that—”

“Kyle!”

He turns, eyes a bit wild. Kyle looks ridiculous, and you suddenly feel terrible. You reach for him, placing both hands on either side of his face. “There’s no note.”

Kyle blinks like he didn’t hear you correctly. “What?”

“There’s no note,” you repeat. “I bought the flo—”

Kyle groans loudly and places his entire hand over your face, muffling the last few words. “Bloody hell, baby girl.” He lightly pushes off, dropping his hand, and stepping back.

You grin sheepishly as Kyle crosses his arms over his chest.

“What was the goal?” he asks, leaning forward a bit.

You shrug your shoulders. “To rile you up?”

Kyle laughs, short and clipped. “Rile me up?”

“Yes,” you say slowly.

He leans in a bit more, a smirk on his face. “And what do you think was going to happen once you riled me up?”

You know that Kyle already knows the answer to this question. But he’s indulging you. As he always does.

“I didn’t think that far,” you reply, but it’s far from the truth.

You wanted to rile him up so that he’d come home and fuck you like a man possessed.

Kyle bites down on his bottom lip and you track the movement. “No, love. You did.” He straightens. “And I know what you want.”

Kyle steps into your space, his head dipping as if to kiss you but pausing just before. “You need a good throat fucking. I need an apology. And then I can give you what you want.”

“Kyle,” you breathe.

“On your knees, love. Present your mouth.”

You obediently drop to your knees, and part your lips.

“Wider,” he almost growls.

You do so just as Kyle reaches down and undoes the front of his belt. He doesn’t even look. Doesn’t flinch. The belt is gone and the front of his pants are open by the time Kyle grabs your face and brings you close.

“Tongue out.”

You do so, and Kyle taps the head of his cock against it before sliding it back and forth over your tongue. His hold shifts, falling to the nape of your neck.

“Take it like a good girl. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle draws you forward, forcing you to take all of him. Holding you in place for a few seconds, Kyle only eases you back once your gag reflex kicks in. Kyle adjusts his stance, and your hands grasp the sides of his thighs.

Kyle’s hand on the back of your neck tightens as his other hand tangles in your hair. Keeping you in place, he starts to thrust, fucking your mouth like he would your pussy. All you can do is cling to him, to hold on as he grunts above you.

There isn’t any anger there, just a stern brow and a need for control. It’s delicious. Entirely mouth-watering. Your core warms, a slickness blooming, indicating just how much this turns you on.

To bring Kyle toward his end, you make little sounds in your throat. It makes him stutter. It makes him moan. Beneath his pants, you feel the muscles in his legs tighten. And then he’s forcing you down his length, throating him entirely as he comes down your throat.

Breathing through you nose is the only thing holding you together. And when he slides you off, you cough, wiping at your lips.

Kyle’s hand caresses your cheek, drawing your gaze to him. He arches a single eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

Reaching out, Kyle draws you up to your feet, bringing you close. His smile is soft, and when he comes in for a kiss, it is consuming.

“Now that you’ve riled me up,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Kyle pulls away, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

“Take off your clothes. Kneel on the bed. And bend over. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle drops his hand.

“That’s my good girl.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny’s ears are ringing.

“You better be bloody joking,” he growls at his phone.

On the screen is a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Flowers that you’re thanking him for. Flowers that he didn’t send.

And the card? Bloody fucking hell. That card is going in the shredder. Johnny will tear it apart with his own teeth if he has to. Some fucker had the bright idea to send you flowers like he’s the one you’re dating.

No. Fuck that.

Johnny might be the demolitions expert, but he knows Ghost could dig around for him if he asked. Scratch that. Johnny is asking right fucking now.

“Hey, Lt!” Johnny jogs over to Ghost and turns his phone around. “Can you trace who sent these flowers?”

Ghost’s expression behind the balaclava remains flat. “It’s a fucking photo, Johnny.”

Cursing under his breath, Johnny forwards the image to Ghost. Ghost checks his phone, enlarging the image.

He grunts. “Should be easy.” Ghost glances up from the screen. “Why?”

“Someone making a move on my woman,” replies Johnny, holding back a growl.

“Done,” says Ghost. “Give me a couple hours.”

It doesn’t take Ghost long, and Johnny has to laugh out loud.

“You fucking naughty thing,” mutters Johnny as he unlocks the door to your flat.

When he enters, you’re nearly on your toes, eager for him. It’s cute, but you need to learn first. Sure, the prank is harmless, but you were wanting a rise out of him.

Punishment is needed.

“Johnny,” you say brightly, coming around the counter to greet him.

As you arms reach for him, Johnny removes his belt. Your gaze drops, but he is faster than you. Johnny has the belt around your wrists and secured before you can even protest.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.

“Thought I wouldn’t find out?” Johnny tuts. He yanks you forward, bringing the two of you almost face-to-face. “Bought those flowers yourself.”

Johnny tugs on the belt again. You stumble into him and he spins you around. With another quick tug, Johnny has the belt looped onto one of the coat hooks embedded in the wall.

Reaching down, Johnny palms your ass, his lips pressed to your ear. “Got me all jealous at work. Had Ghost stalking the flower shop and everything.” He squeezes, and then smacks your ass. Hard.

You whimper. “Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies, love.” He kisses your throat. Your skin is soft and he inhales, savoring your scent. You’re freshly showered, and the smell of your shampoo invades his nostrils.

It doesn’t take much to rid you of your underwear. It’s just you in an old shirt and your bare ass on full display. Johnny slides his hands between you clenched thighs.

“Spread them.”

You do so obediently and a primal part of him simmers with pleasure. Johnny slowly drops to his knees behind you. He savors the view, taking his time to enjoy the sight before him. Even from here, Johnny can see how slick you are. How wanton.

He’s going to devour you. Make you beg. Deny you what it is you most want until you’re a fucking mess for him. That’s punishment enough.

Johnny tests by running one finger over your pussy. It comes back glossy. He pops it into his mouth, groaning at your taste.

“Want me to eat this pretty pussy?” asks Johnny, running his finger over you again.

You nod frantically. “Yes. Please.”

That’s a start.

Johnny leans in, the tip of his tongue playing with your entrance. He traces it with his tongue before slipping inside, slowly fucking you with it. It’s not enough, but Johnny knows this. He needs to suck on your clit and give you his fingers to make you come.

But even then, you’ll have to wait.

You’ll have to beg.

Johnny trails upward, swirling his tongue, finding your clit. He teases it. Flicks it back and forth in a steady stroke. You’re already growing wetter. You’re already moaning above him. Too bad you don’t know what’s coming.

Johnny slides one finger inside of you, pumping twice before inserting a second. You’re tight around him. He can feel the stretch.

He works you slowly, lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy as he teases your clit with his tongue. Above him, your moans come unbroken and loud. It’s sweet. He loves the sound. But Johnny knows your tells, and when your muscles begin to clench and unclench quickly, he ceases all movement.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, glancing down.

Johnny chuckles. “You have to earn it love.”

“Johnny, please,” you beg.

“What’s that, love? Didn’t hear you?”

“Please,” you say, drawing it out.

“Please what?” he prompts.

“I want to come,” you murmur.

Johnny smirks and starts fucking you with his fingers again, but doesn’t put his mouth back on your clit. It’s not enough for you. You’re squirming. Wiggling. Needing more.

“You pull another stunt like this again, love, and this,” Johnny smacks your ass with a sharp thwack, “will be red.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. Please. Just—please.”

Johnny teases your clit with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Beg some more.”

You do. All sorts of obscene things fall from your lips. When tears form in the corner of your eyes, Johnny finally gives you relief.

He fucks your gorgeous pussy with his fingers. He tastes and teases until you’re crying out, clamping around him as you come undone.

Johnny withdraws. Straightens.

You’re still hanging on the hook.

He frees you from it, but does not remove the belt from around your wrists. Johnny presses you against him with a flat palm upon your stomach.

“Don’t do that again,” he murmurs.

“I won’t.”

Johnny kisses your throat. “To bed.”

You frown, holding up your bound hands. “But the belt.”

“Stays on,” he says, fisting the tangling leather. “Until I’m done with you.”

John Price

John isn’t one for texting.

You’ll send him a barrage of texts only for him to call you hours later asking what you were texting him about.

Which is why you didn’t think this plan would work.

But then it did, and now you’re bent over John’s lap, bare ass in the air.

John told you that he was working late to catch up on paperwork. Whenever that happens, he always gives you a call to check-in and hear your voice. It’s routine at this point. A comfort. Most of the time, he just wants you on the other side, to have you talk about the day or whatever you want while he’s working. John will usually remain silent, listening, basking in your voice.

You planned it perfectly, knowing that he’d check his phone before giving you a call. You sent the photo of the flowers. A beautiful display really. And they were on sale. You also sent him a picture of the makeshift “note” that you made for it. All it said was “thinking of you” with no name. All of that was follow up by a “thank you” and promises to please him later.

John was calm when he called you—almost eerily so. When you thanked him from the flowers, he didn’t reply. He simply pushed past it. The thing is, John saved all of that energy up for when he came home.

Your ass stings. John rubs the spot he just smacked before squeezing.

“Now, love. Tell me the truth.” He says it so sweetly, like it’s such a simple thing.

And you don’t know how much longer you’ll last under this barrage.

“You bought them for me,” you whimper, keeping up the façade.

John shakes his head. “We both know that’s not true.” He squeezes your ass again, the sting burning slightly when he let’s go.

“I’d guess you’re seeing someone else but that would be lie. Wouldn’t it?”

He punctuates this statement by slipping his hand between your thighs, his fingers running over your pussy, parting your slickness. John dips one finger inside and then another, only to retreat and grab your ass cheek with the same hand.

“I know just how to make you wet, love. You have no one else to run to.”

“I told you—Fuck! John!” You jolt in his lap as his palm comes down on your already throbbing cheek.

“Be honest, love. Or you’ll get a few more.”

You swallow down your pride. You wanted him riled up, but you weren’t expecting this. Not for John to come home, strip you down, and bend you over his lap.

“I bought them,” you grumble.

John’s hand eases. “You what?”

“I bought them,” you snap.

“I knew you did.”

Before you have the chance to form a retort, John guides you up and into his lap. He grabs the front of your throat, bringing you close to him. He does not kiss you. He simply hovers.

“You’re going to straddle my lap and bounce on my cock until I fill you up. You understand?”

You nod, and Price let’s go of your throat.

“Get to it,” he purrs.

John is fully clothed, and you’re wearing nothing at all. You undo the clasp of his belt, pull the zipper, and he flexes his hips enough that you can work his pants down a bit. When his hard length is free to you, you straddle him, lining yourself up.

He remains impassive as you start to sink down. The stretch is perfect—as it always is, and you groan as you seat yourself entirely on his cock. Gripping his shoulders, you roll up and back down, rocking when you can to give your legs a break.

John still stays quiet but his gaze is assessing. Slowly, his hand comes around your neck again, and this time he squeezes slightly. It’s not to hurt. It’s to dominate and possess.

“Who do you belong to, love?” he asks.

“You,” you murmur, sinking down on him.

“Say it again,” repeats John.

“I belong to you,” you gasp, coming up and then back down.

“Again,” and this time there’s a growl in his tone.

“I’m yours, John.”

“Fucking right,” he says, crashing his mouth to yours.

The kiss is a claiming, one that shoots through your body and consumes your limbs and control. You shudder, pussy clenching, and then John is fucking up into you, his hands on your hips.

You’re no longer in control. It’s just John, and his need to possess.

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[ashwhowrites]

Hi, I love ur stories and I had an idea I was hoping you could write. If not I completely understand and respect that. I loved ur fic where Eddie was the popular one instead and everyone thought hellfire/his band was cool. So would you be able to write another popular Eddie Munson x shy/nerdy reader fic but instead it doesn’t deal with the whole upside it’s more so of Eddie is popular and gets paired with nerdy reader or kind of like a 10 things I hate about you sort of thing where there’s a bet and she finds out about it but a happy ending please:) if not completely fine. I hope you have a great day/night and wish all the best for you <3

I think this got a little long because I squeezed it all in one part. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Bet on me

It wasn't a shock that Eddie could get any girl he wanted. And his long list of the girls he dated could back that up. He never had anyone turn him down and that made him cocky. His friends loved it, boys will be boys. And boys love to play games.

"How was the date with Tracy?" Blake asked, one of Eddie's popular friends.

"It was alright. She was easy so that was nice" Eddie smirked, just another girl on the list.

"Well, you aren't the only one that got laid last night. I got Chrissy Cunningham, which puts me above you" Josh gloated. A pleased smile on his face as Eddie rolled his eyes.

"How did you land her? She's like forbidden" Eddie asked, a little hit to his ego.

"Either way, Josh is now at the top of the list. Getting closer to the $300" Blake said, writing down little dashes next to Josh's name.

"No way. I'm not losing $300. Who do I need to date to get me on the top?" Eddie asked, shoving Josh aside as he continued to brag.

"Um, how about..." Blake said as he looked around. Eddie watched as a twisted smirk showed up on his face. He looked back to Eddie with evil in his eye.

"Y/F/N"

Josh laughed out loud. A laugh so hard he smacked Eddie next to him.

"Dude there's no way she's going to agree to that!" Eddie argued. Y/N was the nerd of the school. There were a few nerds, but she was the smartest out of all of them. She was quiet and kept to herself. How the hell would Eddie get her to date him? How the hell would he even get a conversation started?

"Damn, then it looks like you can hand over that $300 now," Josh said, holding out his hand.

"If anyone can crack her, it'll be you," Blake said, encouraging Eddie as he hyped him up.

"I'll add $200 more if you can take her virginity," Josh smirked, knowing Eddie wouldn't shy away from a higher bet.

"Well gentleman, looks like I'm making $500" Eddie smirked as he walked off, heading towards her direction.

~

Y/N finished grabbing her books from her locker. She slammed the locker shut and jumped as Eddie leaned against the metal beside her.

"Y/N right?" He asked, putting on his best charming smile.

"Um yeah," she said quietly, not quite making eye contact with the popular boy.

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out sometime?" He asked, putting his arm near her head as he leaned into her. He felt a blow to his ego when she stepped back.

"I'm sorry but I don't think we have much in common." She spoke quietly that he could barely hear her. But she walked past him.

It looked like Eddie had to put in more work than he was used to.

~~~

Eddie waited a few days before he talked to her again. He didn't want his sudden interest to be that suspicious.

He walked into his math class, heading straight for the teacher.

"Mr. Munson, what can I do for you?" The teacher sighed

"Can I get a tutor? I need to pass this next test or my uncle is gonna kick my ass." He said, not a full lie. Wayne was getting pissed off with Eddie's grades.

"Language," the teacher scolded, "but I'm glad you are finally accepting help. I have a few options, there is Char-"

"I want Y/N," Eddie said, well demanded.

"Y/N? She is my best student but she doesn't take well to tutoring the popular crowd" the teacher explained.

"I'll make her change her mind," Eddie said with a cocky smile

And just like that Y/N was in the palm of his hand.

~~~

It took a few days before the teacher assigned her to tutor him. She tried to fight it but the teacher refused. She was extremely confused as to why Eddie would request her, and the thought made her nervous.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the small trailer. She looked down at the address on the piece of paper, making sure she was in the right place.

She looked up as she heard the door open. Spit caught in her throat as a shirtless and incredibly sweaty Eddie stood before her.

"Sorry. Was doing a workout, come on in" he said, stepping aside as she walked in. He pushed back his sweaty curls and closed the door.

"Do you want me to come back?" She asked. She felt extremely awkward that she interrupted a workout.

"No, you're fine. I'll just rinse off quickly and join you. Feel free to take a seat on the couch and help yourself to anything in the fridge" he said before he headed off into the bathroom.

She sat on the couch, taking in the small trailer. She could see baby photos of Eddie and an older man. The walls were covered in mugs and baseball caps. But it was a place of memories.

She grabbed out her books, pencils, and paper. She wasn't the type to help herself to something in the fridge so she sat and waited. She tried to shake away the thought of Eddie standing in the shower. The water dripped down his toned and tatted chest.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Eddie walked out, head down as he rang out his long hair. A loose muscle tank top covered his chest, and her eyes were locked on his arms. Then she looked down and took in his sweatpants. She looked away as he looked up. He tossed the towel back in the bathroom and walked to sit right next to her.

She shivered as she took in the smell of his shampoo and aftershave. She yelled at herself in her head to get a damn grip. But Eddie was attractive, everyone knew that. And she was simply a girl sitting next to the hottest boy in school, watching him get out of the shower.

"Where do we start?" He asked, smirking as she jumped out of her skin. He loved that behind all her walls, she was still a girl who found him attractive. At least now he knew what he could play at.

"With your last test," Y/N said, taking out his graded test and handing it over for him to look at. "Tell me what you don't understand" She looked up at him as she waited for him to answer.

"How you are so beautiful and don't have a boyfriend" he replied, his eyes looking nowhere near the paper.

"Oh...uh thanks," she said, "but I meant about the math, Eddie."

He sighed as his words seemed to not have any effect. She was able to compose herself and brush him off.

He figured he needed to earn a little friendship with her first. So he sat there for two hours doing math.

Y/N sighed in relief when the sky got dark and she had a reason to go home.

"Well it's getting dark so I better head out. You did very well today. I think we can get you around a C" she said as she stood up.

"Why don't you stay a little longer?" He asked, grabbing her hand and freezing her in her spot. "Maybe talk without it being about numbers?"

"I uh- I rode my bike here so I really should go home." She said, giving him a small smile as she released her hand from his.

She waved bye as she walked out the door.

Eddie sighed as the door closed. She was a lot harder to crack than he thought.

~~~

As the final bell rang, Eddie was already in the parking lot. He stood near the bike rack, not sure which one would have been hers.

"Oh hi, Eddie" she greeted him with a smile as she unlocked her bike.

"I was thinking, what if we put your bike in my van, and I'll drive you to my place tonight. Maybe stay for dinner?" He asked, his cocky smirk made her face heat up.

She looked around as students watched them interact. A few of his friends stared at them, and it made her nervous.

"Then I'll drive you home and you won't have to worry about biking in the dark," Eddie added, the final push to make her sigh and agree.

She sat nervously in his van as the music played through the speakers. She found herself humming along and drumming her fingers against her thighs.

Eddie smiled as he heard her softly singing, he was very surprised the shy nerd would listen to the same music as he did. He turned up the volume, winking towards her as she noticed.

"Don't stop, I like hearing you sing." He said, and for once he was honest.

Wait...did he like something about her?

~

They walked into the trailer and sat on the couch. For the first few hours, he stuck to the math, knowing she wouldn't move on unless they did.

"I'm starving, you hungry?" He asked as he stood up. His brain felt fried for squeezing in math for the past two days.

"I could eat" she smiled

"Follow me to the kitchen, milady" he joked as he held his arm out.

He silently cheered in his head as she laughed and took his arm. He walked them a few steps into the kitchen. He let go of her arm to look in his pantry.

"Mac n cheese?" He asked, taking out the small box.

"Sounds good to me," Y/N said as she took a seat at the small table.

Eddie began to prep the meal, trying to rank his brain for questions to ask.

"How come you wanted me to tutor you?" Y/N asked, her fingers drumming against the table.

"I wanted to get to know you," Eddie said, and it was the truth. He just had a different reason why he wanted to know her.

"But why? You've never noticed me before" She wasn't dumb. She knew Eddie wouldn't magically like her out of nowhere, no one did.

"But I noticed you now," he said, turning to look at her as the water boiled.

She accepted his answer and continued to drum her fingers against the table.

"Nervous habit?" He asked, nodding towards her fingers.

She felt her face blush as she clenched her hands into fits.

"A bit" she shrugged as she looked down

She heard him walking closer to her, her breathing picking up as he used his finger to lift up her chin. She stared at him like a love-sick puppy and he felt himself loving it.

"Why do I make you nervous, beautiful?" He whispered, she gulped as she bit at her lip. Eddie softly moved his hand up, his thumb yanking her bottom lip away from her teeth. A puff of air left her lips as she gasped. She tried not to squirm in her seat as he leaned down.

She was close enough to see every color in his eyes, every freckle on his skin, and just how pink his lips were.

"Is it because you like me?" He whispered. He smirked to himself when her eyes zoned in on his lips. He was cracking her down.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asked, her eyes snapped up to his eyes. He could see the panic, the fear, and the lust swimming together in her eyes.

"I- I've - don't know.." she trailed off, her eyes getting lost in his as the water boiled in the background. The only sound pulling her back to Earth.

"Never kissed someone have you?" He asked, his thumb softly rubbing her bottom lip again. She softly shook her head no.

She felt like she could breathe again when he stood up straight and removed his thumb. Space between them as she sucked in as much air as she could.

"That's a shame. You've got the prettiest lips I've ever seen" he winked, then turned around and finished making dinner.

He was collected, calm, and in charge.

She was a mess, anxiety-filled, and had no upper hand.

She got caught in the Eddie Munson spell.

~~~

Y/N felt awkward the next day at school. Knowing she was seconds away from kissing Eddie did something to her head.

He asked if she wanted him to kiss her. Did that mean he wanted to? Or was it a mind game he enjoyed? She knew his reputation and that relationships were not what girls went to him for.

She didn't have it in her to be used and tossed. She was far too sensitive for causal. As she walked through the hallway, her eyes caught a poster.

Hawkins Carnival

This weekend only

"Are you thinking about going?"

She turned her head as Eddie's voice filled her ears. He stood next to her, dressed to impress in his jacket and jeans.

"Oh, probably not. I'm not the best at those games." She said with a small laugh

Eddie knocked his shoulder against hers

"Half of it is strategy and the other half is physical. Which means if we team up, we could win and get our money's worth." Eddie explained

Did he want to spend his Saturday night at a carnival with Y/N?

Hell no. He wanted to be at a wild party and drinking until he forgot where he was.

But he had a bet to win.

"You want to go to the carnival together?" She asked, her head turned to the side as she looked at him. She felt the need to clarify what he was saying

He turned to catch her eyes

"It's a date then, sweetheart. I'll pick you up tomorrow at six." As always, he left with a wink that had her heart racing.

She was going on a date with Eddie.

~~~

Y/N barely slept that night. Her head filled with all the horrible things that could happen on the date. But also she allowed herself to get a little excited. Maybe she needed to not think so harshly about Eddie. Maybe he was a good guy and simply interested in her.

She sat on the front step, waiting for Eddie to pick her up. She took a deep breath as his van pulled up the street.

Eddie got out of his van and walked over to open her door.

"You look gorgeous," he said in awe. For once he saw her as more than the little nerd he met. Her glasses were gone, her hair loose on her shoulders, and simple touches of makeup that she probably didn't even need. He never realized how pretty she was just being casual. She always wore sweaters and skirts, but now her arms were bare as she wore a pink tank top. Her chest caught his eyes as he tried to look away. Then her smooth legs showed from her jean shorts.

"Oh thanks," she said shyly, "you look very handsome, Eddie." He wore a band T-shirt, his wrists covered in bracelets, black jeans with a red flannel tied around his skinny waist and his dirty sneakers.

For once in his life Eddie blushed

~

The drive was comfortable, and both sang along to the music. Eddie never realized how much he enjoyed her company.

The sun was still out and hot as they headed into the carnival. Eddie slipped his hand in hers, not saying a word about it as he walked up to the ticket booth. Once he paid for their tickets, they were walking hand in hand as they walked in.

The loud conversations filled her ears and the smell of popcorn filled her nose.

"Where should we start?" She asked, taking in all the rides and games.

"Bottle ring toss!" Eddie cheered as he walked them over to the small booth.

"Alright, gorgeous. What's my strategy?" He asked, handing the small bills over and receiving the rings.

Y/N leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Aim for the ones closest to you. And aim for the middle, it'll increase the chance that the ring will bounce onto one of the bottles."

She pulled back and stepped back, giving him space to toss.

And he did just as she said, tossing the ring into the middle. The small red ring landed on the bottle. He did it two more times and won.

He bowed as she clapped. The worker grabbed the small stuffed animal and handed it over. Eddie grabbed the small bear and happily handed it to Y/N.

She tucked the small bear under her arm and thanked him. He smiled and slid his hand back into hers as they continued to walk.

~

After two hours, they were hot and tired of walking around.

"Let's take a seat" Eddie groaned, sitting down on the bench. Y/N laughed but sat next to him.

With the moment to breathe, her head was spinning. She couldn't believe how much fun she was having with Eddie. How sweet he was and how he paid for everything, no questions.

"I'm so sweaty and hot" Eddie groaned, his curls all frizzy.

"Here, this might help," Y/N said as she stood up. Eddie watched confused as she walked behind him, and began to lift up his air. He breathed in relief as his hair was removed from his neck. He smiled to himself as she tied up his hair. A comforting feeling landed on his chest.

She used the binder on her wrist to tie up his hair, throwing it in a messy bun. She walked back in front of him and held out her hand.

"Let's go ride some rides and feel the wind"

Eddie smiled and grabbed her hand. He was actually having the time of his life. He was enjoying every second with her. And as he realized that, he felt a heavy amount of guilt fill his body.

Eddie blindly followed, focused on how terrible he felt.

"Ferris wheel?" She asked as they walked near it. Eddie snapped out of his thoughts and nodded. They walked in line and got on the small cart.

Their bodies smashed together as the ride slowly began to move. Eddie felt sick and he didn't think it was because of the ride.

"The sun is setting. Look how beautiful it is!" Y/N said as she pointed off into the sky. Eddie followed her finger and took in the pinks and purples that decorated the sky.

The ride ticked and slowly came to a stop, their cart at the very top. Y/N hummed as she felt the nighttime breeze start to make it's way. Her hair softly blew in the wind as she reached for his hand.

"Eddie?"

He snapped out of his thoughts again, looking over at her.

"Yeah?" He asked. He took in how beautiful she looked as the sun set behind her. The way her hair blew out of her face, and the scent of her perfume made his heart race.

Fuck...he likes her

"I want you to kiss me" she whispered, her eyes looking down to his lips as she leaned in.

Eddie felt conflicted as her eyes closed and she leaned closer. He knew he should have stopped her, and he should have confessed. But he wanted to kiss her, even if it would be the only time.

Her lips touched his and his mind went blank. All he could feel was her lips. Her left hand moved up to softly touch his cheek. He softly kissed her back, his hand landing on her thigh. The kiss was short and sweet, but impactful.

She pulled away, nervously. She just had her first kiss with the most popular boy in school.

Eddie had the first kiss that ever made him feel something. He looked into her eyes as she waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He pressed his lips eagerly against hers, already missing the way they felt against his.

~

Eddie pulled up in her familiar driveway. His stomach filled with endless butterflies. He never knew he could like a girl so much.

"I had a great time, Eddie." She said softly, holding the small bear in her hands. "Thank you" She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then got out of the van.

Eddie watched as she walked into her house. Her lips lingered on his cheek and guilt lingered on his mind.

~~~

A week passed, and Eddie and Y/N spent the week doing math. And now that the weekend was here, Eddie took her on another date.

This time at a house party. Y/N wasn't totally interested but she wanted to be with Eddie.

Eddie was terrified, but he had a plan. He wanted to go on a date somewhere else but his friends forced him to come. He didn't want to cancel with her so he bit the dust and arrived.

He was going to call off the bet with his friends and explain it all to her and hopefully, it would work out.

They walked in and all eyes were on them. Y/N gripped Eddie's hand as she tried to hide his body as they walked through. Everyone took in her small black flowy dress and red lips. She felt pretty and tried to keep her head high.

~

The night went and Y/N was tasting alcohol for the first time. She was a smart girl but didn't know a limit. She lost Eddie in the crowd, but she was on the path to find him.

She was drunk, stumbling around, and about to do something so stupid.

~

"So I need to talk to you guys about Y/N." Eddie sighed, the alcohol doing nothing to calm his nerves.

"Seems to be going very well, my man. Gonna hit it soon?" Josh asked, patting Eddie on the shoulder.

"About that-" but he was cut off when a body slid up next to his. He looked down as Y/N slid under his arm and cuddled into his side.

"I want to talk to you" Y/N whispered as she looked up at him. He looked down at her pouty red lips, craving nothing more than to kiss her.

"Alright. Let's go outside" Eddie offered

"I was actually thinking we could talk in the bedroom." She said, her finger trailing down his chest.

His friends whistled and Eddie was quick to grab her hand and walk her away.

"ATTA BOY MUNSON!"

Eddie groaned to himself as he flipped off his friends. Quickly rushing them up to the bedroom so he could confess everything before it was too late.

As they made it into the room, Y/N had more confidence than ever before. She pushed Eddie onto the bed, landing on his lap as she pressed her lips against his.

Eddie moaned as she rocked against his hips, but he had to focus on what was important. He held her hips still and pulled away from the kiss.

"I really need to talk to you," he said, she hummed but moved her lips to his neck.

"Talk to me," she said as she pulled away. He sighed in relief when she got off his lap.

"I need you to kn-" but the words died in his throat as she pushed down her dress. He felt a growl in the back of his throat as he took her in. The black bra and underwear looked amazing against her skin. He felt his cock grow hard as she unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor as she walked towards him again.

"Know what?" She whispered as she ran her hands up his thighs.

Eddie felt like he had an angel and devil on his shoulders. One side begging to cave and feel her wrapped around him. But the other side telling him to go any further would be wrong.

Before he could think of picking a side, the door flung open.

Y/N screeched and quickly grabbed the blanket off the bed. Eddie panicked as Josh walked in with a big smirk and a handful of cash in his hand.

"Well well well, Eddie you actually did it."

Eddie felt his blood run cold as he got off the bed. He snatched her dress and bra off the floor and handed it over to her.

"I'll be right back," he said before he harshly shoved Josh out the door.

Y/N was fast to get dressed, clipping on her bra as she immediately became sober. She slipped on her dress and cracked open the door.

"I don't want the fucking money. I want out." Eddie harshly whispered

"Oh come on Eddie. You put like three weeks into this bet, gonna quit now?" Josh scoffed

Y/N felt her stomach turn as she took in the words.

"Fine, you dated her so I'll give you the $300, but you didn't fuck her so you owe me the $200."

"You made a bet about me?" Y/N spoke, her voice cracking as she could feel the tightness in her throat. She opened the door wider, and the two boys froze upon her feet.

Eddie closed his eyes as he felt the world crumbling around him. He opened his eyes and turned to look at her. He felt his heart ache as the tears fell down her cheeks and the betrayed look in her eyes.

"Yes but please let me explain!" Eddie begged, his voice wavering with nerves.

Before she could think, her right hand slapped across his cheek. The sound echoed down the hallway and Josh yelled out to the party. People rushed up the stairs as Y/N stared Eddie down with the most hateful look he had ever seen.

"I can't believe I ever thought you liked me. I fucking hate you." She said through her clenched teeth, hot tears running down her face as she shoved him. She was fast as she pushed through the crowd and raced down and out of the house.

"Y/N! WAIT!" Eddie screamed, feeling the sting on his cheek as he pushed through the crowd.

But by the time he made it out, she was gone.

~~~

He showed up at her house over and over, but she never opened the door.

He had no idea how to make things right but he would die trying.

~

Monday morning he was off. He stopped by the flower store, picking out the prettiest ones he could find.

He held them in a tight grip as he walked into the building. Half the school was at the party so eyes followed him as he walked to her locker.

She was back to her normal self. Glasses on and her hair up, a sweater on her body, and a skirt on her hips.

"Y/N?" He said gently

"Eddie don't" she sighed as she looked at him

"Please I can explain" he begged

"Explain? Eddie, I'm not an idiot. You don't think I know that people think I'm a joke? I get it, I was a funny target for your popular games. But the game is over so just leave me alone." She said, tears building in her eyes as she walked off to class.

"But you're not a joke! You mean so much more than that!" Eddie said, following behind her and grabbing her arm. She sighed as he stopped her, the eyes of everyone on them. But Eddie didn't care, he was focused on her.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you would have never looked my way otherwise. You would have never liked me and you wouldn't have tried to get to know me." She said and walked away.

It hurt but Eddie knew she was right.

~~~

Eddie left her alone for about a week. He wanted to give her time to cry, scream, or whatever she needed to feel. But he didn't give up on her.

It was hard for both of them. He watched her every move throughout school, and she fought hard to never look. She dropped out of tutoring, which he felt would happen. He still worked hard at math, wanting nothing more than to prove their time spent together was for something.

He missed her and she missed him. She still has the bear, she cuddles with it every night. Eddie slept with the moments they had.

Y/N sighed as she walked out of school. It was Friday and she couldn't wait to go home and sleep away everything she felt.

But of course, Eddie stood there at the bike rack

"Eddie" she groaned

"I know. You don't want to talk to me or see me. I respected that for as long as I could. But I need you to know that everything I felt was real. I fell for you." He explained, his eyes pleading for her to stay.

"How can I believe you? How can I look at you the same way? I-I...I'm so hurt, Eddie. I knew getting involved with you was a bad idea. From the first night, when all you did was flirt and try to make me one of those girls. You knew I was fragile, and you used that against me. You toyed me along and made me believe for once I could be someone worthy of someone like you. I had my guard up in the beginning, but you were so sweet-" she got choked up as tears fell down her face. "So sweet that I thought I was the bad guy for thinking so little about you. That maybe you aren't a bad guy and I should see where it goes. But you are that guy Eddie. You are that shallow, selfish, and asshole guy."

"I'm sorry, I know! I'm an asshole, I was selfish. I had bad intentions in mind and you didn't deserve that. But I mean it when I say that you are someone anyone could fall in love with. I've never felt the things I feel for you. The way you make my heart race and the way you make me blush. You make me want to be someone better. I don't want the endless girls and be that guy anymore. I want to be worthy to be with you." Eddie choked out, tears building in his eyes as he made himself vulnerable to her.

She bit her lip as she tried to keep her cries inside. Her heart broke seeing him cry and being so torn up about it.

"That night at the carnival changed everything. We were going out even more after that. All those times together were real. Please just let me fix this." He begged.

"If they didn't walk in, would you have slept with me? Complete the bet?" It was a question she was scared to ask.

"No," he said without a thought, "I was going to tell you that night, I swear. I wanted to tell you at the carnival but then we kissed and every thought I had vanished. Then I was going to tell you at the party, and once you wanted to go further I knew I wouldn't until you knew the truth. No matter how hard it was to think straight when you looked the way you did. But I would never have gone through with it."

Maybe it was a mistake and maybe she'd get burned. But just like the last few weeks, she believed him.

"I'm Y/N, the last guy I liked kinda was an asshole. Think you can make me forget about that?" She asked, a teasing smile on her face as she held out her hand

Eddie wiped his tears and shook her hand. "I'm Eddie. And I'm gonna try my damn best to do so."

~

And he did. She wanted to go extremely slow. She made them start as friends, slowly trusting him as the months went on. He was patient, in no rush as he worked to be the best for her.

After being friends for three months, she asked him to kiss her. And he gladly did.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[seungcheorry]

when seungcheol opens the front door of your house, it seems like everything is upside down. the living room looks like a mess with your daughter's toys all spread out - he was kind of guilty about this, i mean, she didn't really need that many toys to play with.

the kitchen is filled with vegetables all over the counter, kkuma is cutely on two paws as she tries to reach it; if only she was human sized, maybe she could...

and lastly, seungcheol could hear your daughter crying all the way from her bedroom, with your desperate pleas also being heard, asking her to calm down a bit.

"what's wrong?", he asks the moment he steps into the lilac colored bedroom.

"appa~", your daughter runs to him, hugging his legs with all the strength she has.

"hey, baby. why are you crying?"

as seungcheol picks her up, you sigh - half in relief, half in frustration. you really wanted to do something nice for seungcheol, especially when he does so much for you, so you tried your best to make a proper dinner, clean around the house, give kkuma a bath, but all these things are extremely hard when you have an hyperactive 3 years old who's, by the way, the biggest daddy's girl to ever exist.

"she keeps asking for mr. cuddles, but won't accept it when i give it to her", you gesture to the plushie you have on your hand.

"babe... it's because that's not mr. cuddles", seungcheol tries to bite back a laugh. "that's giggly, the tiger plushie soonyoung gave it to her on her last birthday. mr. cuddles is the panda plushie i bought her two months ago, remember?"

seungcheol walks with his daughter hanging on his neck to her closet, opening and reaching for mr. cuddles on the top shelf.

"i put it here this morning because kkuma was trying to get it, i'm sorry", and as he hands the toy to your daughter, you're not really sure who he's talking to, you or her.

"thank you, appa", your daughter kisses his cheek.

"you're welcome, baby girl~"

if you didn't love them so much, with all your heart, forever, to death - you would perhaps roll your eyes at the scene.

"why does she have to be such a daddy's girl? i literally carried her for 9 months!"

"aw, it's okay, babe. you're daddy's girl too."

"seungcheol!", you almost scream, but the bastard just smirks at you.

a/n: inspired by one of @cxffecoupx's headcanons about dad girl!seungcheol. please check it out, they're amazing. ❤️🍒

[cupid-styles]

hi here's a late night talking drabble (camgirl!y/n x nerdrry)! just a little fun creative exercise, slice of life type deal. if you read, I hope you enjoy!

nsfw content ahead!

Harry didn’t mean to stay up until 3 a.m., but when there was a brand new DLC for his favorite video game, it was a near given. 

When he finally drags fuzzy sock-clad feet to his bedroom, a rush of warmth consumes his chest when his eyes settle on his sleeping girlfriend sprawled across the expanse of his mattress.

Linen comforter fisted in her hand, her pouty lips parted softly as quiet snores sound from her mouth. He smiles to himself, kind and loving, as he tiptoes over the fluffy carpeting, gentle fingertips reaching out to brush across her forehead. As usual, she’s stretched diagonally from corner to corner of his cozy bedding — he hates having to wake her up in the middle of the night, shifting her sleeping form to her designated side (Harry always sleeps on the left, even when she’s not staying over — it’s hers, through and through). 

He swallows as he tenderly slips an arm around her waist. It’s particularly warm these days, leading bright sunny days into sticky, bleary evenings. Sweat seems to permeate her soft skin as he quietly coos in the shell of her ear; a response to the sharp draw of breath from her nose when she comes to, allowing him to reposition her body with minimal protest.

He tucks himself into her side, assuming the position of big spoon. Their bodies seem to cling together from the honeyed sweat painting each of their forms, but neither mind in the moment. In an hour or two, they’ll wake up on opposite ends of the bed but for now, Harry can’t fathom the thought of not being pressed up against the warm girl beside him.

He’s surprised when a wordy mumble breaks the silence of the dark room. The only other sound is the ceiling fan rotating above them, just fast enough to create an ongoing and much-needed breeze. A “hm?” breaks free from his throat as he reaches up to tuck some hair behind her ear. Unsure if she’s sleep talking or awake, he presses a fluttering kiss to the space just below her earlobe.

“‘S late,” she repeats. The syllables sound thick and groggy but he still understands, nodding into her neck. 

“I know, I’m sorry baby,” he murmurs, “Was really into my new game.”

A sleepy sigh followed by her foot hooking over his ankle — she backs up against his body, her ass to his crotch, her back to his chest. Impossibly closer.

“It’s okay.”

The silence returns as his thumb draws circles into her bare hip, just below where her — his — tee-shirt falls. He thinks she’s fallen back asleep when she hums, eyelashes flittering as she moves onto her back. He looks down at puffy eyes, bedridden hair, fading lovebites peeking beneath the faded neckline of his shirt. A vision of heaven, he thinks.

“You wanna?” she asks, unhurried and hushed. He knows what she means — they do this sometimes when they both wake up in the middle of the night or he’s just ending a gaming marathon. In a gloomy twilight bedroom, her inner thighs burning as she rides him, skin slapping, catching one another’s breathy moans in wet kisses—or her on all fours, filthy sentiments spilling from his mouth while he pumps his cock inside of her, prying her cheeks open for his viewing pleasure. A dirty picture meant for only each other, hours after she bared her body to the open web.

“Yeah,” he breathes, his length already hardening underneath his briefs. It’s somewhat of a rehearsed dance as she pulls his shirt up and over her chest, nipples peaking from the ceiling fan’s artificial breeze. He’s just as fast in his efforts, cock bumping against her lower stomach as he loops thick fingers around the base, squeezing just hard enough to elicit a throaty groan.

Foreplay isn’t needed or wanted for their late night escapades, even if it takes him a few tries to fit his cock between her walls. It only makes her press her fingernails deeper into his muscled shoulderblades; an experiment of slight pain and denial on either side, a test neither of them are interested in failing. Finally, he’s in, balls tight and swollen and snuggled up against her, the sound of her whimpery pants overwhelming his senses.

When he begins to move, it’s familiar and it’s comfortable and good— so good, as he sits up against his heels to watch his length bully itself inside over and over again. Wet and slick, entirely too consuming for them both. 

The only source of light is the moon, high and mighty in the sky, streaming in through the curtained window of his bedroom. It’s like a disco ball shimmering its pride over her contorted face — pretty, nostalgic, and an image he yearns to commit to memory, a permanent Polaroid he tucks into his hippocampus. 

He hopes that the next time the disco ball invites her to party, he’s by her side once again, bright and gleaming. 

[sxorpiomooon]

HOW DO YOUR FRIENDS SEE YOU: PAC READING

paid readings(tarot and astrology)

pile 1 pile 2

pile 3 pile 4

helloooo, all you have to do is pick one of the shells teapot(oml I just realised shells is my name too) the one that you feel the most called towards and read what's written for that pac. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't, hope you have a great day<333

pile 1-

hello pile 1, this is an ambitious pile now isn't it. You are someone who when wants something believes that there is only option and that is getting is. You only care about winning and you only participate to win. Your friends might find it surprising and appreciable how you never give up. I think you've been through some hardships and yet you've managed to not back down. When you want something, you give it your all. You do not back down or look for alternatives you do it the way it's supposed to be, even better if you might ask me. Your friends see you as someone who's resilient you might love titles and competition? Your friends might feel as if you always feel a need to prove or establish yourself? I heard "to make yourself known" however I also see your friends feeling bad for you I heard "not everything has to be a competition and so stressful " they understand why you might feel the need to always prove yourself but your friends might want you to sometimes take a break from it they think that you make situations, people and yourself extremely stressful because of this. Your friends might want you to take a break from always wanting to win and to also back down when necessary I heard "catch a break". They might feel as if in wanting to always be better and prove yourself you constantly compare yourself to others and never feel like enough. My pile 1, i see your friends being very worried for you I keep picturing one girl in particular I wonder if this pile has friends that are silent instead of nagging but still make it known when they don't angry with something, I'm also getting childhood friends and curly hair.

pile 2-

hello to my pile 2!! Some of you either talk too much/interrupt others excitedly while talking or your friends urgently want to keep saying or telling you something but stop. I think your friends feel as if you burdened by something they have no idea about? They don't know what to do. Your friends see you as someone who's come a long way I heard "heavy is the head that wears the crown" someone who's achieved so much with their hardwork and passion but at the same time now have too much on their shoulders. Pile 2, do you have a habit of taking on other people's responsibilities? The intentions in this pile feel a bit weird for some reason. This might not be related to this but I'm getting that you should only take on responsibilities that are yours? Don't take on other people's burden. There is also some financial situation here your friends might see you as someone who's stingy about their money and possession but rightfully so even tho it might piss them off sometimes I think they understand. Haha, has this pile recently achieved something big? Your friends and family feel extremely proud of everything that you've accomplished and if you guys need to hear this, they do want to help you out so if you have been hesitating go for it. I see your friends and family celebrating you I keep seeing a party very happy vibe a girl in orange something crochet or knit sweater?

pile 3-

do y'all forget stuff while talking about it or zone out? Bc I stopped in the middle of the question while shuffling my cards OUT OF NOWHERE 😭😭 my dear pile 3 I hope y'all are doing ok? I immediately got drink some water? Has something happened between you and your friends or you in general? The cards don't look very positive this looks like a chaos to me. I shuffled for more cards and did get positive so perhaps that message was just for the few of you. To the people that actually are going through something with their friends, it will pass it is a time of bad luck that was meant to happen I am so sorry and please keep holding on and drink alot of water it'll pass soon. For the ones who are not lmao your friends see you as someone who brings joy wherever they go I see this pile and their friends being very spontaneous and crazy this is like the squad that's always laughing had a vision of someone in the mall in front of the mirror? Trying sunglasses. A few in this pile are extremely friendlike with their partner too. So much laughter this feels like y'all are living your lives I heard soulmate lmao. Have fun and for those who are not it'll pass<3

pile 4-

HELLLO this is the shell that I liked the most too so lets see AhHahahaha we got good cards pile 4 LETS GOOOO you might be the mother of the group or as I call myself the single divorced mother of the group bc of the stress and everything that you have to control. Your friends see you as someone who's extremely kind and giving I heard generous also someone who's like a mother figure. Someone who's nurturing in her ways and gentle. Someone who's always constantly leaving things that no longer serve them before to look for more. Your friends might believe that you have and serve a bigger purpose that where you are right now. This pile has friends that silently care and think about them alot but might not say or advice alot because there's this sort of "they already know way better than me" sort of thing. There is also something that your friends want you to let go off. Very good makes me feel very good.

Thankyouu!!

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (3)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

all my other works ▪︎ part one ▪︎ part two

Both having busy schedules and working in different cities, the reader and Ewan make an effort to keep contact with each other. Will Ewan ever make his feelings known? Will a possible scandal derail their budding romance?

A beautiful floral arrangement awaits you as you return to your hotel suite in LA.

Luxury red roses preserved in an elegant black velvet box, accompanied by a printed note on the side.

Congratulations on your new project, darling.

All my love, Ewan.

Your assistant had alluded to a special package having arrived just before you came in, and you're met with this.

It's the loveliest of gestures and you instantly wish to call Ewan to express your thanks. However the hour is late, the digital clock face reading 10 pm. You'd had a long day at work, having gone through the entirety of rehearsals once more. Filming will officially begin in September, and your focus is much needed as you step into a new role.

Noting the time difference - it would only be around 6 am in the UK - you decide to put off calling him for tomorrow.

It's only been a week since he first confessed that he misses you, and since then, he's had no trouble saying it each time you speak, almost as if the floodgates are opened and he's more confident in expressing himself with you.

I told you, Phia had simply said when you shared this with her.

The strong possibility of Ewan harbouring feelings for you has caused you to become distracted the past few days. If he does, why hasn't he asked you out yet? Granted, you'll be working long-distance for a while, but still.

You quickly wind down from a long day and soon find yourself comfortably huddled in blankets with your laptop propped open in front of you. Winding down, of course, includes some time scrolling on your phone or watching things without a care.

A new video catches your attention on Youtube's home page. One of the segments from Ewan's Vanity Fair feature.

Ewan Mitchell on his firsts and latests

You smile to yourself before you even realise it.

The video starts with Ewan introducing himself - "Hi, Vanity Fair. I'm Ewan Mitchell and I'm here to talk about my different firsts and currents." - He smirks at the camera. You smirk right back as if he can see you.

"So first ever role?" he says, directed by prompts behind the camera. "Technically, my first ever role was for a very small, short film called Stereotype ..." He laughs, remembering how young and inexperienced he was. "... and my current role - none other than the One-Eyed Prince. So far, my favourite as well I have to say."

He continues with his first and current favourite film, pets, song or type of music to get into character... and so on...

Then he gets asked about - his first ever and his current celebrity crush - "Uhhhmm," he looks to the side bashfully, clicking his tongue as he thinks of the simplest answer, "I don't think I had celebrity crushes growing up. It could have been some of the actors I admired, that inspired me... "

Such a classic Ewan answer, that one. You wonder how he would also dodge the question of his current celebrity crush.

"As for my current crush... well... it might be someone from the cast of House of the Dragon, actually." He smiles knowingly, as if he's aware that your stomach is in knots as you watch. Who will he say? Phia? Olivia?

"I really admire ... " He says your name, and your eyes widen like saucers. "She's an amazing actress - I think we can all agree - and a very dear person to me... "

Ewan, you sneaky charming bastard.

" ... so yeah," he shrugs, nonchalantly, but he surely knows he just sent you - and the entire fandom - into a tailspin. "I guess you could say she's my current celebrity crush."

Curious, you pick up your phone and get to scrolling. You've turned all your notifications off, not wanting to become occupied because of them during work.

Sure enough, it's an endless flurry of likes, comments, and messages.

In your most recent post, tons of people comment about Ewan's interview, trying to bring it to your attention.

hotdpolska29: girl, go watch Ewan's Vanity Fair video RIGHT. NOW.

melodygellerr: be honest, is this photo for Ewan???

peraltajake99: now she has to say that Ewan's her celebrity crush too !!!

cassiethemendler: forget Ewan... guys she's acc with jacob frickin elordi. Did yall not see the pictures

There's simply too many comments to go through. One statement and already everyone has formed their own opinion, their own conclusion about how things are in your personal life. It's one of the drawbacks of being in the public eye, and you still don't fully know how to handle it.

As part of PR for your new film, you and Jacob had been tapped to make appearances in public together, photographers hired to make it seem like the two of you are on a date.

The whole thing confused you. You're friends with Jacob, and naturally you hang out with him anyway. All this celebrity subterfuge seems unnecessary. But he was kind enough to guide you through it. "It's just part of the job," Jacob assured. "This whole Hollywood thing is silly, isn't it?"

Since you're both single actors, it wouldn't hurt for people to believe you might be dating. It attracts attention and any publicity is good as they say.

As long as you know what's true, then the public can believe whatever they want.

You end up liking and responding to some comments, and ignoring most of the other ones that pry too much into your private life. Never mind the haters, who also give their own two cents about your alleged involvements with Ewan or Jacob.

Suddenly, the screen is brightened from an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye . You are still pleased with yourself about the name. Your excitement is spiked as you press answer. Having a crush never gets old.

"Mornin', you," you greet him. 11 pm for you in LA, 7 am for him in England.

"Evening, darling," he says with a smile. He's still in bed, with one hand behind his head while the other has his phone pressed to his ear. First thing in the morning, and he feels compelled to call you. If that's any indication, the boy doesn't lie when he says he misses you every day. "You about to go to bed?" he queries.

"Mhmm," you hum, lying down and mirroring his position. "By the way, I think I've got a secret admirer or something."

"What? Who?"

Struggling to hold back a laugh, you continue, "I think you're missing the point of a secret admirer."

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. "Anyway, what's going on? Are they bothering you?" He sounds worried already, but a bit more should be fun.

"No, but I found a box from them in my room."

"Did they break in?" He sits half-upright, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you breathe out a tired laugh. "Ewan, I'm - " ... kidding, you want to confess, but he rambles on.

"If you need me, I can take the next flight out."

"Ewan - honey - I am messing with you. I do appreciate the floral arrangment box, by the way, thank you."

A beat of silence. He slumps back down on his pillows. A smile creeps up unrestrained on his lips. He fondly thinks that his girl almost gave him a heart attack at 7 am.

And he loves it.

"You're welcome," he replies. "And if I wasn't fully wake before, then I am now. Good work, darling."

You're pleased - he didn't deny the admirer bit of it all.

"Seriously now, thank you. They're the best surprise after a long work day."

"I'm glad you like them," he says sincerely. "Rehearsals still going on?"

"Yup, two more weeks of this, then a month-long break, and finally filming in Atlanta."

"Hmm," he says, then pauses, framing his next question as best he can. "Are you... do they... that PR relationship business, is that - "

You help him to it. "Well, technically, yeah," you respond. "But they're not laying it on thick with Jacob and I. Everything is alleged by the media and no one will make any sure statements."

When you shared the truth of the pap walk, he had a bunch of questions about it. He had sounded detached and cold at the beginning of that call. Then you complained about relationships for publicity, and he quickly got the gist. You'd think his mood took a complete 360 then.

From sounding completely disinterested with Jacob, Ewan then took to reassuring you that he's a good guy who would respect your boundaries. He's still not a fan of the whole thing, but it's your job.

And... well... it's not like he's your boyfriend or anything. What claim could he have over you?

"And something you said has the public divided," you add.

"What did I say?" he smirks, playing it coy.

"Ewan."

"You're going to have to elaborate, darling."

An idea pops up in your mind. Two can play at this game, Mitchell. "Listen, I'm flattered that I'm apparently your celebrity crush, but you can't say shit like that! I don't think my boyfriend Jacob would appreciate it. He's very protective, you know."

A full minute passes, you hear his heavy breathing on the other line. He wants to curse out at the picture you presented but holds back for you.

Then, "You're so funny, darling."

You laugh genuinely, and all his worries dissipate. "I know."

"A downright comedian."

"Thank you."

"I can't believe you're my celebrity crush," he sighs dramatically.

"You put that on to yourself, mate."

"Hmm." He sure did. He wasn't lying in that interview - you are his celebrity crush, but that seems reductive. He likes you, he misses you, he loves being around you. "The only right answer would have been you. You're the one I think about all the time."

He says things like this, so sweetly, and it's everything. It drives you off kilter that you get tongue-tied at work when you think about it.

But he hasn't said or done anything more. The flowers were a nice touch, sure. Maybe he's gearing up to it? Does he have something up his sleeve?

In the moment, it appears not. He's flirty, as he always is, but you've had a damn long day and the butterflies in your stomach are exhausted too.

"Ewan, I'm gonna go to bed."

"Oh. Right."

"Long day tomorrow. You know how it is."

"Of course. I... I miss you, darling. Sleep well."

"Mhmm," you find yourself responding, not mirroring his statement. "Bye, have a good day."

You end the call, wondering if he caught on at the end. Perhaps you sounded a bit too dismissive, but a voice in your head says, hey - if he wants you, he gonna have to show you. It'll take a lot more than flattery and banter to win your heart completely.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

That night in London, Ewan sits in a corner booth of a pub with Tom, Luke and Elliott and it's relatively causal, with the boys just catching up over a few pints.

Until Luke mentions you and Jacob, questioning whether that whole story was real or not.

"Absolutely not," Ewan says immediately, shifting in his Adidas tracksuit as if to take up more space so the boys will pay attention. "I talked to her about it and it's all just PR nonsense, trust me."

"Look at this one gettin' all defensive." Tom claps Ewan on the back in jest.

"Well it's true," Ewan just shrugs. "They're not together."

Elliott jumps in, eager to rile Ewan up even more. "For now at least. I've heard that these PR couple things eventually get a little too real, if you know what I mean. The lines tend to get blurred."

Ewan slings his pint back, before engaging. "What do you mean?"

"Well, look at it this way," Elliott explains. "She hangs out with the guy a lot. They laugh, dine and work together. Maybe they even have to make out several times for the film. It's easy for feelings to spring up from all that business."

"Life imitates art, innit?" Luke offers.

"Yeah, maybe soon it won't just be PR. I've heard of some celebrity couples who did that," Elliott says.

Luke adds, "Wasn't there that one PR couple that got married and all? Who was it - I can't remember now - "

Tom intervenes, wary of the way with which Ewan grips his pint glass. "That's all nonsense, come on. Surely that's not a common occurence. I worked with all you guys, and I can't stand any of ya. If anything, she'll be so sick of Jacob after they work together." That earns him a laugh from the twins, who then assign him to get the next round as payment for that jibe.

Ewan stays silent, his mind whirring. Usually, the boys wouldn't mind. They know it's just his way, being a focused and observant lad on and off set. But they sense something else underneath.

The twins share a look, a bit guilty due to Ewan's expression.

Ewan looks up and reassures the table, "Hey, it's alright. Whatever she chooses to do, I get it."

"But come on, mate," Tom says. "Everyone knows you like her. Literally everyone. Even she knows it, I bet. Why don't you just make the bloody move already?"

"I dunno," Ewan starts, not sure of the answer himself, "it just didn't seem like the right time, with her being off across the pond for the rest of the year."

"So what, you're just going to let it slide? Do you want her or not?"

"Mmm, I do." Ewan keeps to himself most of the time. But Tom's got a way to loosen his taut edges.

"Well, as promised, I'm gonna get us all another round," Tom declares, earning cheers from the twins.

Two pints turned into three, then six, seven and so on. Pretty soon, the lads get properly and well smashed. Ewan's never been the biggest drinker, but when the social situation calls for it, he can put them back just as well as the next guy from the Midlands.

"So come clean, mate," Tom drawls, his arm slung around Ewan's shoulders. "Are you in love with her already or what?"

Ewan laughs, rubbing a hand over his face to wake up a little. It doesn't work - the glare of the warm overhead lights is strong and make him feel woozy.

"Could be," he says. "But that's none of your business." Smirking, he points at Luke, "Or yours," then at Elliott, "or yours."

"Hey! C'mon," Tom protests, feigning hurt. "Am I not going to be the best man at the wedding?"

"No way, Aegon the Magnanimous," Ewan shakes his head. "My brother'll be the best man."

"So there will be a wedding," Luke says. "Does the bride know about it?"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet," Elliott teases. "I triple dare you to ask her out right now. Right fuckin' now, Ewan."

"No," Ewan says, but in his sloshed out state, he secretly considers just doing it. "I gotta go for a smoke, lads. Tom was right, I can't stand you anymore."

"Oh, boo!" Tom shoves him out of the booth. "Hurry back, lover boy."

Ewan makes his way to the alley behind the pub. He's thankful that a pub at midnight offers the perfect setting to disappear into anonymity. Everyone's just as drunk or they simply don't care about celebrity culture.

He takes a few puffs of his cigarette, the nicotine quickly reawakening his nerves. Thinking back to the twin's suggestion, he thinks, why the hell not? Why shouldn't he ask you out already? Who cares about the PR shite? If word gets around that you're his, the facade about you and Jacob will get shelved.

With his cig lodged between his teeth, he has to take extra care to call you, the glare of the screen not doing wonders for his inebriation.

The lines beeps, and he's met with your voicemail. You must still be at work or just getting off it.

Still with Jacob. Something in him stirs, and it's not just the bloody alcohol.

He clears his throat, prompted by the notification to leave a message - "Hey, darling. Hey... beautiful... I guess I'm missing you and I... I miss you, isn't that funny?" he starts, proud of himself for making the joke. "I'm out with the lads right now... had a couple of pints. Maybe one too many? I don't know. And... uhhh - "

He stomps his smoke under his shoe, nervous ticks getting the best of him. Here he goes, make it or break it. "I was thinking about you. As I always do. Because I've never felt like this about anyone before. Ever. And I'm sorry it took me this long to ask, but I want to be with you. No - that's not right, it's too quick... I mean, yes, I want to be with you, but I gotta do this right. I want to take you out, properly, on a date. Will you... will you please? I've got some business stateside and I could have that scheduled sooner, and I could come see you. And we could... I just want to see you. So fucking badly, baby. I - I - okay then, I suppose that's all. Good... good morning? No - evening. You're beautiful and I just..." he sighs deeply, because words will never do you justice. "... goodbye."

The line cuts off and he tucks his phone away. Smiling to himself, he feels euphoric from getting that off his chest. The message was coherent enough, he thinks proudly, and it couldn't have sounded better all things considering.

If he could pat himself on the back, he most definitely would. He can already see it, the perfect first date with you.

The lads are going to go nuts over this, he knows for certain. He makes his way back inside the pub, a boy renewed.

A lover boy, as Tom and Phia call him.

No truer words have been spoken.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

It's 10 pm yet again when you make it back to your suite. Having notifications on your phone turned off while you're at work, you're met with a barage of messages and the usual social media frenzy.

But only one thing stands out - a voice message from Ewan One-Eye, sent just around 4 hours ago.

You settle in for the night, making sure you're all prepped to go to bed before playing it, thinking you can maybe call him afterward.

You hear the beep, and the message starts - "Hey, darling... uhhhh so hey, I - uh fuck I'm missing you right now, must be at work eh? And I miss you - " You note how he sounds drowsy but his words are punctuated. Like he's making an actual effort to simply speak. You realise he must be drunk. What's a drunk Ewan doing calling you? " - that's so funny, innit? Which suits cause I'm just a bloody joke cause I took too long... to tell you... that I... I think about you all the time, I'mcrazyboutyou y'know... I wanna be with you... withyou - " He's drunk, you keep reminding yourself that he's drunk. But the effect of his words aren't diminished. He's got you hooked. " - I got work out there too... so I'll - uhhh - see you then and... take you out then and - fuck - kiss ya... I want to kiss you so fucking badly, baby. You're perfect for me, and so beautiful, and I wish Aemond would wed your character cause - as th'twins said - life imitates art!" He snickers at his own remark, and it's the most endearing thing ever. "So... yeah, good, darling. Goodb - " and the line cuts off.

"What the fuck," is all you can speak out into the quiet room. Lying back on your pillows, you actually laugh out loud and kick your feet like a puppy-love drunk highschooler.

The sun is rising across the pond and Ewan has probably just made it back home, immediately collapsing in his bed all wasted.

But he's getting a call tomorrow - and you pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that his intentions are clear, drunk or otherwise.

Kismet is a funny thing. Once a fan of the show, you're now an actress on it, about to date the Aemond Targaryen.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Ewan's eyes flutter open. The sunlight is weakly coming in from the window shutters in his room. Confused, he glances at the digital clock face and it reads 6:18 PM.

So he slept through the whole day. Brilliant.

It's unlike him to mind his phone first thing after waking up, so he trudges to his bathroom to douse his face with cold water and brush his teeth for a good long while, trying to recall the events of the previous night.

It had the usual workings of a proper pub night with his lads, and he barely remembers the last night he got that sloshed. But anyway, all in good fun, and he genuinely enjoys their company so it must be worth the pounding headache he feels right now.

The lads... an unknown and possibly excessive number of pints... Oasis playing on the speakers... Tom generously buying a round of drinks for everyone in the pub... and of course, you.

The memory has his attention, and he thumbs through his phone as he makes his way to his kitchen to prep his staple black coffee with seven sugars.

He remembers it - kind of - leaving a voicemail, and he's pleased that he finally, finally asked you out. Never mind that it took him getting drunk off his noggin to do it.

But there's nothing from you. Not a message, nor a missed call, nor a voice note.

He tries not to let it worry him right away, but it does. Maybe you didn't hear it yet. Maybe you were too tired from work and weren't checking your voicemails.

Maybe... maybe...

His phone suddenly buzzes in his palm and he mumbles, fuck's sake, out of surprise. But it's not you calling. It's his publicist.

"Hello, good evening. How are you doing?" he greets cordially.

"Ewan!" she exclaims. "Finally! I've been trying to get a hold of you all day."

"Oh, right," he says guiltily, "I'm so sorry, I just had a long night and - "

"I know, Ewan, I know. The whole country - no - the whole world knows by now. Bloody hell, it's always The Sun, isn't it? Those idiots, I swear."

He straightens at that. If a tabloid is involved, it can't be good news. "What's happened?"

His publicist sighs, ready to relay the news, "The Sun did a story on you and the other cast members. About having a wild night out in the pub. It's useless fodder, really, nothing wrong with having a night out."

"Right, right... but - " Ewan says, sensing there's something more. Something worse.

"There's a picture of you with a girl - "

"What?"

"I think I've seen her before. She must be a cousin of the Tittensors? You know her, of course."

"I... I don't - "

"Anyway, according to the paper, you and her were flirting it up a storm at the pub. She had her arm around you and everything. Do you want to look it up now? I can give you a moment. I'll stay on the line."

"Fuck," Ewan mutters to himself as he does a quick search of his name. The headlines make him wish he never did so.

House of the Dragon Stars On A Wild Night Out: INSIDE SCOOP!

EWAN MITCHELL SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY LADY

Aemond Targaryen IN LOVE? See PICTURES Inside!

"I don't think I remember her," he swears to his publicist, "I was just drinking with the lads and there might have been others that joined us but I - what the fuck - I don't - "

"It's okay, Ewan," she reassures him. "We can deal with this. This bullshit just comes with the job, as you should know. It'll be fine."

No, it's not fine.

Because it dawns on him why he hasn't heard back from you.

"Fuck."

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @uwuuness @strbellz @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @rhaenys-nyra @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @cardiganlovesblog @strangersunghoon @darktrashsoulbear @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @chixnugg22 @athenafaes

Not drunk Ewan thinking his voice message sounded a lot better than it did! 😂

The story will extend further than 3 parts, as it turns out! In the next one, the reader and Ewan will be reunited - any guesses on what will happen?

Comment and let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist 💕

[kcrossvine-art]

hi friends! This recipe/review was delayed at first from- well it was a different recipe originally, technically bat tempura should be the next item but id like my first tasting experience of bat to be made by someone else who knows what bat should taste like. The recipe after bat tempura is living armor and id intended to use geoduck to mimic the scale. Living armor is interesting with dunmeshi as they used the suit of armor in 3 different ways; grilling, steaming, and souping.

Affording geoduck, a PNW delicacy, is a stretch for one dish, let alone 3. With my write-ups id like to offer a chance that readers will actually be able to make what we talk about. So I opted to use regular clams instead. I feel myself above the fire so we're still sticking with one dish, the dish that doesnt require a grill or a helmet-esque plating arrangement.

Today in our delicious dungeon, we're going to be making Living Armor Soup!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into Living Armor Soup?” YOU MIGHT ASKThe ingredients used in the show didnt give much to work on, quoting "medicinal herb" and "special sauce".

1 lbs Mussels

Shallots

Garlic

Bay leaf

Curry powder

Chicken stock

Cream

Eggs

Its important to use cream as your dairy, the higher fat content gives you leeway with boiling and acidity to avoid curdling. Any cream should do. Still bring it to temp gently but rest assured in the moo moos protection. 

AND, “what does Living Armor Soup taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

A smoother, buttery-er cream of chicken soup

The mussel meat itself feels like a simplified version of chicken hearts- structurally and in taste

Its not bad. You could hard sell it to a picky eater 

Green onions would bring crispier top-notes much needed

And maybe building a roux base for the soup would fill out the low end?

I dont know what drinks would pair well with this. My heart wants to say red wine but im not a grape fan and cant get more specific than that

I think the hassle of procuring seafood is why when i ask my friends their opinions, the responses are middling to negative. You cant build a palate for it if you dont eat it enough. If i'd had fish stock i wouldve used that rather than chicken, while it doesnt turn the soup disgusting or make itself known much at all, awareness of its presence draws unfavorable comparisons to food I'd rather be eating. And eating for cheaper too (...besides the chicken hearts).

. Some mussels out of a bunch will inevitably be DOA, you wont be eating exactly a pound of them. This and waterweight are the nature of seafood. . Lay easy on the salt until the end before serving . If you have enough mussel stock left after straining, you might not need additional stock

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

From deciding to cook to sitting and eating, the process took about an hour and a half. Not bad but not great, considering this dinner left me feeling full for all of about an hour after.

And the mussels were mostly usable/alive too! I discarded maybe 3 of the whole pound! Sure seafood can be light eating- youd think the dairy and vegetables would hulk it up more. The science of what makes food filling isnt entirely understood, as is most nutrition and gastro science, so i dont know what to blame. Stunning that 1lbs of mussels was not enough to keep a 110lbs person full for an hour.

If i were to make this again, i would serve it with fresh dinner rolls (or another carb). Breads and seafood are joined at the hip in my mind. You want more delicate tastes from your fish? I got just the thing. An entire family of food with varying flavors and textures that just so happen to all work pretty well with the third thing people eat often with seafood; butter.

I give this recipe a solid 4/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) It needs workshopping beyond being recognizable to the show.

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 lbs mussels, cleaned and de-bearded

Butter

3 shallots, finely diced

3 garlic cloves, crushed

2 bay leaf

Curry powder to taste

120g chicken stock

100g heavy cream

2 eggs

Method:

Wash your mussels. Remove any beards and barnacles. Discard any mussels with open shells.

Finely dice your shallots and garlic.

In a saucepan, brown your shallots and garlic in some butter over medium-low heat. Once softened add your stock, bay leaves, and curry powder to the saucepan. Increase the heat to medium.

Add your cleaned mussles to the saucepan, the liquid should cover them but if not add more stock. Bring to a boil, and then cover and reduce to a simmer.

Keep simmering until most/all of the mussel shells open. Discard any that still havent after about 6 minutes of simmering. Set aside the remaining mussels.

Pass the liquid in your saucepan through a strainer and return the liquid into the saucepan.

In a seperate bowl, combine the eggs and cream together. Carefully stir the egg/cream mixture into the saucepan until incorporated.

Remove the meat from the mussels, either discard or save some shells for garnishing.

Place the mussel meat on the bottom of serving bowls and pour the hot broth overtop, add your garnish (if any) and enjoy!

[ellecdc]

Poly!moonwater are the type to be relieved when plans to go out are cancelled. Rem will say loudly as he's talking on the phone- oh no, you can't make it? And reg and r will already be changing into comfy clothes and getting snacks and they'll all be cuddled together before the phone call even ends

mimi: *sends in thoughts/request* mimi: *waits 3 months for lexy to respond* sooorrrrryyyy for the wait! I loved this prompt and hoarded it until inspiration struck

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who loves cancelled plans

Regulus was crouched in front of you as he helped you slide your heels on when Remus’s phone started ringing.

“Hello?”

Regulus tapped your left foot to encourage you to lift it for him.

“Hey Prongs!”

You both paused in your actions and whipped your head towards your boyfriend to see him already looking at you.

“No, no. We haven’t left yet; we’re just at the door.”

Regulus slowly rose from his crouched position; helping you balance in your awkward one-heel-on stance. 

“Oh really! The poor thing…” Remus cooed sympathetically in a manner both you and Regulus knew was mostly for show. “I’m sorry to hear he’s feeling poorly.”

You finally opted to put your shoed foot back onto the ground as your naked-foot leg began to ache in your flamingo stance. 

“Blimey, no don’t worry at all, we’re totally fine to reschedule.”

And that was all it took for Regulus to crouch back down to undo the buckle of your heel as you all but ripped your jacket off of your shoulders. 

“I hope the rest of you don’t catch it, too.” 

Regulus hung both of your jackets up before pulling Remus’ off his shoulders too; you having long since fled further into the flat at the news of your newly free evening. 

“No, Sirius is definitely the worst sick person.” Remus agreed as he bit back a chuckle watching you come sliding (literally) down the hardwood floors in your fuzzy socks (which he’s asked you not to do as you were going to hurt yourself) and what he recognized to be one of his old t-shirts. 

“Well, you could just lock them both in Haz’s room until the flu has passed; save you and Lil’s the trouble.” 

Regulus appeared around the corner then, donned in his own pyjamas before joining you in the kitchen. 

“No you’re right.” Remus agreed, leaning against the doorframe to watch you and Reg in a practised sort of dance through the kitchen as you grabbed wine glasses and he grabbed the wine before quickly exchanging sides of the kitchen for him to grab bowls and you to grab snacks. “That would be cruel to poor Haz.” 

You had the wine glasses in one hand and a bag of crisps in the other as you went to pass Remus in the doorway, pausing to lean up on your tiptoes for a kiss he quickly reciprocated. 

“Alright, no worries. Yeah, no absolutely, not a problem at all. We’ll catch up soon; hope Haz feels better, give Lily our best! Okay, yup, alright, bye.”

Remus all but tossed his phone onto the kitchen counter, turning to beeline it to your bedroom in order to change into his own comfies before joining you and Reg in the living room. 

You were already curled up in the corner of the sofa as you scrolled through movie options while Regulus poured a glass of wine, placing a kiss to your head as he handed it to you. 

“Harry’s poorly; has a fever.” Remus explained as he pressed a kiss to Regulus' hair before settling next to you on the couch.

You both made sympathetic cooing sounds, though neither of you turned to look at him. 

“Do you guys want Thai or Italian?” Regulus asked as he handed Remus a glass of wine with one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other.

You and Remus both answered Thai in unison as Regulus placed an order for delivery. 

“We should do this more often.” You said with a content sigh as Remus cuddled up beside you.

“Yeah?” Remus said with a chuckle. “What? Stay in?” 

“Cancel plans.” Regulus answered for you before sitting on the floor between you and Remus. 

“Technically we didn’t cancel plans, James did.” Remus corrected.

You snorted into your wine glass. “Even better.”

[enchantedbarnes]

Uncle Buck • Part 7

Goodnightmorning

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader

Word Count: 9.3k

Masterlist: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

A/N: Surprise! I hope you enjoy 🤗 I love hearing from all of you, so don't be shy - please spam me with your thoughts. I love gifs and seeing your reactions. 🥰 If you have any ideas for future parts let me know! xo

"I GOT IT!" You call out while rushing downstairs to answer the door, grabbing your wallet from your purse by the door for the pizza delivery.

Opening the door while still fiddling with getting the money from your wallet, you look up and freeze.

"Fuuucking hell," you clutch your wallet at your chest.

"Heyyy, Aunt Y/n," Sam greets while leaning against the doorway holding a stack of pizzas.

"Cute outfit," Bucky smirks while looking you over. He has two pillows tucked under his arm and a backpack hanging from one shoulder.

It's movie night and you're currently wearing a fluffy hooded cookie monster robe (when you pull the hood up it has his goofy looking googly eyes on top), a blue ribbed tank top, black and blue plaid flannel pajama bottoms, fuzzy slipper socks, and your hair tossed up in two messy buns on top of your head.

"Did you guys decide to get a pizza delivery side hustle going?"

"Walked up at the same time as the delivery kid," Sam answers, nodding his head behind them.

"And what exactly are you doing here, besides stealing our pizzas?" You tilt your head to the side, a questioning glare looking over the both of them.

Bucky holds up a greeting card in his right hand. More specifically Benji's Christmas card. He flips the card open and holds it up to you. You reach out and take the card from him looking it over.

The front of the card says "MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS" with an edited Home Alone poster showing Benji in the middle with Bucky and Sam in the background. This you already knew, but what you didn't realize was the little shit apparently customized the inside of their cards without you knowing.

The inside of the card reads:

AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

You've been cordially invited to:

New Year's Eve Movie Marathon Night

📍 Location: Attic movie space

⏱️ Time: 3pm set up, 4pm movie selection process

Comfy Attire / Pajamas

Bring your own: overnight essentials - pillows and blankets encouraged but probably not necessary

Snacks and Pizza will be provided

[*Mom knows of this, Aunt Y/n does not...please direct any further inquiries to Mom 718-555-0110*]

"I saw you yesterday, you didn't want to bring this up to me??" You glare over at Bucky, holding the card up.

"Oh you did, did you?" Sam looks back and forth between the two of you.

"Must have slipped my mind," Bucky shrugs.

"I'm sure you were both very busy at this mystery meetup," Sam smirks.

"Yes, it was very eventful," you keep a straight face, "My legs are still sore."

"Oh??" His eyebrow raises as his head whips over to you.

"Mmhm, and there was also a lot more oils involved than I expected."

"Go on..."

"Lots of flowers. Candles. Honey. Fruits... Anything I'm missing?" You look over at Bucky.

"The leather. Can't forget that."

"Of course, how could I forget that. Very sturdy leather, indeed."

"Wow, I just knew you two were a couple of freaks." You can see the wheels turning in Sam's head as he processes this information and tries to decide which question to go with next.

"And then there was that sweet old lady that joined us," you're starting to struggle to keep a straight face, but manage to keep it together.

"Mildred was very energetic for 86 years old," Bucky nods. You finally break and start laughing.

"She probably could have gone another 3 or 4 rounds."

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa," Sam interrupts, holding his hands up in an X motion. "You lost me. Explain yourselves," he looks back and forth between you, an eyebrow raised.

"We went to the farmer's and craft market, obviously. What were you thinking we were talking about?" You sass.

"Yeah, Samuel. What were you thinking of?" Bucky asks, a smirk appearing on his face now.

Sam scoffs. Nora makes her way downstairs and spots their new guests still standing in the doorway.

"Hey, guys! Welcome! Why are you still in the doorway? Come on in," Nora waves them inside. She greets Sam with a squeeze on his arm as she walks by, "Thanks for grabbing the pizzas! Bring 'em on up with you. Everyone's in the attic - you're just in time. Hey, Bucky!" She grins while greeting him with a quick wave.

Nora quickly disappears into the kitchen. Sam sets the pizza boxes down on the entry table temporarily and wraps you in a bear hug, giving you a lift before he sets you back down to snag the pizzas again while making his way upstairs.

Bucky steps inside and hesitates as he closes the door behind him, "Is this ok with you that we're here? I would have told you but I wasn't sure what repercussions would happen if I was the one to spill the beans. Plus seeing the look on your face when you opened the door..."

You grab one of the pillows from him and playfully whack him with it.

"How dare you," you laugh, "And of course it's ok. You're welcome here any time. The fact you keep willingly coming back to this circus amazes me every time."

Bucky just shakes his head and holds his pinky up to you. Those piercing blue eyes staring right at you with his stupidly handsome face.

You smile as you hook your own pinky around his, reminding you of his promise back in the attic during your last movie night together. "Promise you'll tell us if the crazy gets to be too much?"

Somehow we still haven't scared him away. He's gorgeous but you're worried he might be a beautiful idiot.

"Happy almost New Year," you smile as you place your hand on the side of his face, the stubble tickling your palm. He smiles down at you in return, "Happy New Year's Eve." He starts to lean in but you're lost in thought for a moment.

"Wait," You blink and Bucky halts his movement, "Did you guys tip the pizza delivery?"

"It was a young kid, he got a picture with Sam and ran off in his excitement after."

"Damn, that's genius." Note to self, remember that for the next time we order delivery.

You kiss his cheek and hand him the pillow back. "Well, I'm pleasantly surprised and glad you're here. Your continued movie education awaits. You first," you gesture up the stairs, "I'm just gonna go help Nora real quick." Bucky stares at you for a moment, an eyebrow raised as he tilts his head.

He goes to question you but you interrupt as you start to back away, "I'll be right up!"

He gives you a face that looks like you just kicked his dog and you suddenly realize in your frazzled state you gave him the brush off. You step closer again and place your hands back on his face.

"Hi, sorry. Starting over," you crank up the excitement, "I'm so happy you're here. Happy almost New Year!" You move his face between your hands back and forth for emphasis.

"Happy New Year's Eve," he repeats his part in amusement.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer into a sweet kiss. Bucky slowly rests his forehead against yours after, his piercing gaze searching yours with a light smile.

"Sorry for the awkward scatter brain. Was just caught off guard."

"S'fine. Don't do it again though," he jokes with you.

"An eight year old wasn't trying to set me up with a stranger for no reason. He's aware I'm a basket case."

"If you think you're a basket case, I don't know what that could possibly mean for me then."

"Well, the remaining roles available are brain, athlete, criminal, and princess. If you don't understand that reference we'll add it to the growing movie list. But I'm voting princess," you quip and kiss his nose quickly before you step away, "See you upstairs, your majesty."

He glares down at you sceptically, but decides not to bother questioning you. He's sure he'll find out at some point. He shakes his head while adjusting his backpack strap on his shoulder and making his way over to the stairs.

You escape into the kitchen in a flash but wait a moment, listening to Bucky's footsteps make it up the stairs before you say anything.

"Nora, how could you?" You try to keep your voice low while you whisper yell at her.

She clearly knew about this and said nothing this whole time.

"I made sure you looked cute today! Come on!"

"Traitor."

"Why are you even in here? I don't need your help. Go make out with your handsome future husband."

"I'm moving somewhere tropical and far away from all of you," you mutter as you grab a tote bag off the counter.

"Send postcards! Save a guest suite for us," she blows a kiss at you. "Oh, that also sounds sunny! Make sure Bucky gets your back for you when you need to reapply sunscreen."

You send a middle finger (with love of course) her way as you exit the kitchen.

Bucky lets out a low whistle when he reaches the attic space, "Wow."

"How does it get cooler every time we come up here? What is this?" Sam waves his arms towards the fully decorated ceiling.

Benji's previous surprise movie set up had been recreated but on a much larger scale.

The couch was set up much the same with it's pillows lined up, sheet canopies hanging over it, and string lights surrounding the area. However Prudence had helped Benji cover the rest of the space to look like the room was basically a giant blanket fort, with sheets draped and hanging from the ceiling from various strings and pins.

The king size and queen size foam mattress toppers that belong both on your bed and Nora's now took up residence on the floor for some padding along with every cushion that could be found and removed in the house, making one large cozy area. Sam tosses his backpack down, flopping onto his stomach on the padded floor next to it, "I'm moving in."

Benji jumps on top of him, "Heck yeah!"

"Hi fellas!" Prudence greets from her spot on an oversized beanbag chair, her boyfriend Monty next to her.

You make your way up the attic stairs with Nora, the large tote full of snacks and candies in your hands.

You hold the tote open to Bucky with a grin when you reach the top of the stairs.

"Are you sharing?" He asks while peering into the bag.

"I suppose," you tease, "Go ahead and pick your poison."

The lights dim as Bucky goes to reach into the bag and "Get Ready For This" by 2 Unlimited starts playing. The recognizable beat pumping through the Bluetooth speakers.

"Ohh, here we go," you sigh but laugh.

The starting line "Y'all ready for this?" announces Theo's presence as he starts pumping his phone in the air while the lights in the room start flashing with the help from Nora flicking the switch off and on rapidly to the music.

Benji groans. "Every time," he grumbles while crawling off of Sam and standing back up.

"Party peopleeeee!" Theo shouts as he reaches the top of the stairs.

Nora turns the lights back on, "Everyone go ahead and pick out your movie choice for tonight. Try not to share your choice yet."

Sam and Benji move to huddle by a large shelf of DVDs.

Sam silently holds up a copy of Sleepless in Seattle to Benji with an eyebrow raised.

Benji's eyes widen as he continues their silent exchange with a violent head shake side to side.

Sam slowly puts the DVD back on the shelf and gestures to locking a key over his mouth and throwing it over his shoulder.

"I knew that line about soulmates, puzzle pieces and cosmic forces sounded familiar," he points an accusing finger at the small agent of mischief.

Benji smirks and flashes his choice so only Sam can see. They both break into a giggle fit and high five.

Meanwhile across the room, you stand next to Bucky, "Do you have any favorites you'd like to pick out? If we don't have the physical copy we can try finding it online and just hold up a photo on my phone."

"Haven't been big on movies these days. I caught part of a movie recently playing on one of the TV's at the bar? Never saw the end, definitely didn't start watching at the beginning either. Just glimpses here and there."

"Do you know what it was? We could find that one if you are interested."

"Never saw the title," he shrugs.

"Oooh, a challenge," you rub your hands together and turn to face him better, "Let's see... Was it real life or animated?" You lean in, face turning serious in concentration.

He laughs lightly under his breath at your switch in demeanor, "Not animated. It was in space? It had people and robots in it."

"Oh hell yeah, okay. Let's see... Was it like a moon landing situation? Or maybe trapped on a planet?"

"Uh.. buncha people with terrible aim. Like, astonishingly bad aim. They were in a garbage compactor that was closing in..?"

"BUCKY, please shut your beautiful mouth right now. Star Wars????"

"That's the movie people always bring up?"

You grab his arm and yank him over to the many movie collections. You pull 'A New Hope' out and hand it to him.

"Yeah, that's the one. The girl with the hair," he holds the cover up to your face to compare side by side. "Yours are cuter," a sweet but devilish smile appears on his face as he references your hair that's up in two buns.

You swat the case away from your face, "Is this what you'd like to pick? You might get some heat for choosing this... Just a fair warning."

He shrugs while tucking the case under his arm.

"Beautiful mouth, huh?" He smiles slyly over at you.

You fix a playful glare at him, "Now is not the time, Barnes. This is serious business."

"Okay!" Nora announces, "For our esteemed guests, welcome. We're glad to have you join us. Everyone please put your choices behind your backs and line up when you're ready."

You all finish grabbing your choices and gather in a line, standing side by side. You pull on Bucky's arm and direct him to stand next to you. Benji grins up at him and tosses his arms around Bucky's waist, giving him an excited hug. Bucky freezes at first and then relaxes, ruffling Benji's hair. Benji lets go and gives his attention back to what's going on in the room.

"Here's the deal," Theo begins, "We each get a turn. When it's your turn you step to the front and present your choice. When you hold the movie up, we like to say a line from the movie for an added razzle dazzle, you don't have to though. The next person goes up and does the same with their movie. We then vote on which one stays and which one goes. The winner stays and the next entry goes up against them. We repeat until the last movie is standing. Got it?"

You all nod and confirm your understanding of the rules.

"Since we're watching more than one movie tonight, how are we deciding follow up winners?" Prudence asks.

"Well I mean, if you insist, I will choo-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Nora cuts Theo off.

"Guests could choose," Prudence suggests.

"What about the youngest? Hellooo?" Benji cuts in, waving his hand.

"We could go by highest rating on IMDb?" Monty adds.

Arguments break out. You roll your eyes and go back to picking out chocolate from your tote. You grab a snickers and inspect the wrapping and then silently offer a piece to Bucky, tapping his arm with the wrapper to grab his attention. He smiles and accepts your offering while you rip into a KitKat and take a bite. "This could be a minute."

Sam nods over to you and holds his hands up in a stance ready to catch. You reach into the tote again and toss over a random candy for him. He catches the orange Reese's and gives you a thumbs up.

"Alright!" Nora interrupts the bickering, "Raffle style? We pull from a hat."

A chorus of fiiiiine's agree and you're all finally ready to continue.

Theo steps up to present his choice first. "Pockets ain't empty, cuz." He proudly slides a copy of 2 Fast 2 Furious out from behind his back.

Nora rolls her eyes. "Another one?! Again? Why the second one?"

Theo puts his hand over his heart, "How could you? You're my wife, my FAMILY."

"Don't you dare say it-"

"You're gonna turn your back on family?"

Nora's palm covers her face.

"This is the fourth time in a row he's chosen a fast and furious movie," you whisper to Sam and Bucky, taking another bite of your candy.

"I heard that," Theo points at you, "and that is a lie. This is my seco-... No wait, it's the third time."

"And you don't choose them in any order. You just pick random ones! Last time we watched one of the more recent ones, now you wanna go back to not the first but the second movie? Make it make sense," Nora argues. They both stick their tongues out at each other.

Prudence skips up next to Theo, "Well this should be an easy choice then." She holds up her choice over her head: Hot Rod. "You look pretty. What did you say? Uh, I said you look shitty. Goodnight, Denise!" She quotes while mimicking the two different voices.

You laugh while pointing towards Prudence, "Cool beans!" You quote back.

The majority votes for Prudence and Theo dejectedly goes to stand to the side, Monty stepping up in his place.

"You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting," he kneels while holding up A Knight's Tale over his head, "Come back when you're worthy."

"Dang. Sorry Prue," you join the votes and point over to Monty.

"It's a worthy choice, I understand." She moves to the side and Nora steps in her place.

"D-i-g, what's that spell?" She swings the DVD case for Holes like a shovel, "DIG!"

Theo groans, "I'm tired of this, Grandpa!"

"Well that's too damn bad!" Nora shouts back.

Bucky looks over at you with visible confusion written on his face.

"They're still quoting the movie," you answer for him.

He nods but still seems baffled by this movie selection process. You link your arm around his and pat it in a gesture to show your silent support among the chaos.

Votes stick with A Knight's Tale. It was close though.

"If you forget to come back for Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity," Nora does her best Eartha Kitt impression as she moves aside.

Finally it's your turn. You let go of Bucky's arm and make your way over next to Monty.

"I do a great impression of a hot dog!" You scrunch your shoulders up and neck down, holding up Mrs. Doubtfire.

"HelloooOOooo!" Prudence cheers while voting for you.

"My first day as a woman and I'm already getting hot flashes!" Nora points to you as well.

"It was a run-by fruiting," Benji giggles.

"I'm melting like a snow cone in Phoenix," Sam joins in, Benji giving him a high five.

Bucky's eyebrows scrunch together. Benji tugs on his hand and pulls him down to whisper in his ear.

Standing back up, Bucky clears his throat and answers, "Help is on the way, dear?"

"Yeah!" You all cheer.

Bucky blushes a bit at the attention. Benji grabs his arm, giving it an excited shake.

"Alright, alright." Monty surrenders and steps aside.

Sam starts singing in a deep voice as he walks up next to you, "Bow bow, Oooh yeahhhhh," he raises his movie up, "Chick, chicka-chickaaaa!"

His voice goes monotone as he continues, "Bueller..... Bueller......"

It's a strong choice but votes stick with Mrs. Doubtfire instead of Ferris Bueller's Day Off.

Bucky shyly makes his way up next to you. You give him an encouraging nod and smile. His face is scrunched up and unsure, "I'm not really prepared with a quote or anything..."

"Wait! Hang on," you pull out your phone, quickly typing away. "One second... Almost got it... Fucking ads - five more seconds please..." You watch the countdown waiting for 'Skip Ads' to finally appear. "Ok! On the count of 3," you nod over at Bucky. You hold up three fingers, two, one, and then point over at him as you press play.

The intro to Star Wars dramatically blares as Bucky presents his choice.

"Boooo, hiss!" Prudence yells out towards you.

"You coached him!" Theo argues.

"Party foul, bending the rules to your advantage!" Monty joins in.

"I didn't coach shit! This was his choice! So be nice!"

"Then you two really are perfect together," Nora rolls her eyes.

"The rule was I can't choose this movie ever again. Our GUEST chose it!"

Bucky's eyes are wide as he stands frozen, trying to figure out what is happening.

"Uh, we can skip my choice?"

"Of course not, Bucky. So sorry for freaking you out. Y/n has made us watch this a million times. Open the case, we started a tally mark system for them," Nora motions towards the case.

He opens the case and sees the cluster of line tallies filling the inside cover.

"I tried to warn you," you shrug at him.

"At least it's not Lord of the Rings again," Theo sighs.

"You leave my precious out of this," you point at Theo accusingly, "I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

Theo rolls his eyes at you.

"I'm just gonna.. step aside... No votes necessary, really," Bucky assures.

"You're all a bunch of jerks. Bucky, I will gladly watch the entire series with you. You're not getting out of it that easy."

"Wait, have you not seen them before?" Nora asks.

"I've only seen parts of that one," Bucky shrugs and moves back to his original spot.

"Well, that's a different story I guess," Monty shrugs, "but still not enough to sit through it again. Sorry."

"Nerf herders," you mutter under your breath.

Benji dances up to the empty spot. "With it being New Years, I have decided to go with a more New Year resolvation related choice."

"Resolution," Theo corrects.

"Yeah, that." Benji reveals his DVD, holding it up with a wide grin. Uncle Buck.

Prudence lets out a snort that instantly makes her start giggling even harder. "Remember when you showed me his first ultrasound and I told you ' this baby is destined for greatness'?" She asks Nora next to her, "Absolutely knocked it out of the park."

"Well, that was fun. I'm so honored to have the winning choice," you interrupt while shoving Benji's face as you push by him.

"Hey! We didn't vote yet!" Benji protests.

"Are you really sure you want us all to watch this? Mr. 'Where do you live, own or rent?' Hm?" You whisper the last part to him, hinting at you knowing all about his previous kitchen interrogation after prying the info out from Bucky yourself during your first date.

Benji's eyes widen as he gasps. "I, uh, I... Y'know what... I was just being silly. You know meee, just gotta get that title joke in there. I.. take back my choice and pass," he plasters on a nervous grin as he hides the movie behind his back, "Maybe next time!"

Bucky raises an eyebrow but you refuse to look over at him.

"Can I see that?" He asks Benji with a smirk.

Theo and Nora claimed the couch.

On the floor area in front of it Monty and Prudence assembled their own little nest where they gathered some of the extra cushions and blankets around them.

You were next to Prudence, a wall of cushions between the two of you and a stack of pillows from your bed behind you. Bucky is next to you with his pillow he brought with him, the other pillow he carried in earlier was Sam's. Sam is on the other side of Bucky, an empty space left between them for Benji who called 'dibs' on the spot before disappearing downstairs.

While Theo sets up your winning movie for Mrs. Doubtfire, you get up to grab some plates and pass out pizza slices with Prudence who passes out the drinks.

You place one more plate of pizza in Benji's open space and sit back down in your spot with your own.

As you're pulling your blanket over your lap, loud thumps and clatters from Benji running back upstairs start to echo and he emerges carrying a bag full of items over his shoulder like a small Santa Claus. He plops everything down immediately.

"Here you go, Sam." Benji grins while tossing a thick rolled up fleece blanket over to him.

"Ayyy! Thanks so much, big guy." Sam unrolls the blanket and tosses it up slightly to spread it over his legs, revealing a large captain america shield on it. "It's perfect," he laughs.

"Do I get a blanket?" Bucky asks, looking over at the blanket and back over to Benji in betrayal.

"I'm all out. Sorry. You'll have to share one," Benji smirks and scurries away.

"I wonder who he thinks you'll share with," you ask in an airy tone while pretending to brush dirt off and pick lint from the comforter over your lap, tucking it closer under your legs with one hand while taking a bite of your pizza with the other.

Bucky gives you a side eye, but you keep a straight face while focusing on your pizza. A piece of mozzarella stretches as you pull it away and place it back on your plate.

Sam makes a show out of smoothing his blanket out as well, pulling it up over his shoulders and giving them a shimmy. "So cozy. Wow. It's like I'm being hugged by a fluffy cloud."

Bucky shakes his head at both your antics.

"You can share with us, BB." Monty lifts a corner of their blanket up with a wink.

Suddenly the large blanket over Prudence and Monty disappears towards their feet. Benji has their blanket tangled at his feet as he walks away. "Whoops," he shrugs while shuffling his feet and the blanket around some more like a plate of spaghetti. You almost break, but manage to keep a straight face still. Benji then grabs two chunky black plastic objects from his earlier pile and you know exactly what they are. One definitely came from your room, the other from his own. He rushes over to the corner of the room and plugs one in, setting the object down on the floor at a slight angle. He then rushes to the other corner of the room and does the same with the second one. He excitedly runs over to the light switch, shutting off the overhead lights, leaving only the movie projector and the string lights lighting the room.

"Sure, I didn't need to see anything," Theo grumps, remote in hand still clicking around on the screen.

"It's a projector, you can see better in the dark," Nora shakes her head at him.

Benji excitedly plops down in his spot and leans over to Bucky. "Are you ready for this??"

"Da na na, da d-da da, na na-" Theo starts singing the same 2 Unlimited song from earlier.

"Dad, stoppppp!" Benji swats behind him at Theo. "Anyways! Watch this!" He holds up two small remotes and presses the power buttons on them.

Two more projectors come to life, but these cast laser dots to look like stars with multi-color aurora light effects dancing around the room.

"Are you kidding me?? I'm forwarding my mail. How much for my share of rent?" Sam asks Theo behind him.

"We'll crunch some numbers and get back to you," Theo answers.

"I could stare at this for hours," Bucky watches in awe as the colors slowly shift and dance around.

"I bought Benji one for his birthday and then immediately bought one for myself. Ceilings are so boring and depressing without them now."

"Can we turn the spinning off? It makes me slightly nauseous," Prudence requests.

"On it," Benji presses a button and the laser stars stay stationary in their positions, they continue to blink in and out softly and the Aurora effect is still shimmering and shifting colors.

"Perfect, thank you!"

Benji starts making himself comfortable in his spot between Bucky and Sam. He has wrapped himself in his favorite fleece blanket that looks like a giant tortilla and has managed to lounge his way across both Sam and Bucky, shoving a large slice of pizza in his mouth.

The 20th Century Fox logo pops up on the screen as the opening music for Mrs. Doubtfire starts playing.

A sense of calm washes over Bucky as he relaxes. Next to Wakanda he thinks he has found a new favorite spot. A feeling catches him off guard. A feeling he hasn't had a lot of experience with in a long time... Home. He has had a similar taste of it when he visits the Wilson's, but he still felt more like an outsider looking in. This though. This felt different. He looks over at you.

You were still sitting up, a bag of chips now resting in your lap while you toss candies back and forth with Prudence. A smile is stretched across your face as the two best friends giggle at each other. Monty retrieved their blanket.

Benji has his head resting back against Bucky's chest and left shoulder, while one leg stretches across Sam's shins. Bucky's vibranium arm rests across Benji's small shoulders, his forearm bent up allowing his hand to rest on top of Benji's head.

You smile and shake your head when you look over and see Benji has made himself comfortable. In his own little chosen people bubble. Wrapped as a cozy pizza-eating burrito.

You give in and lift the edge of your blanket and comforter, tossing it over what you can reach of Bucky.

He looks down in surprise for a moment and then smiles over at you. With his Benji-free right arm, he adjusts the blanket over his legs. You scooch over closer, purely to make it easier to share of course. He nudges you with his shoulder in thanks. You tap him with your knee as your silent reply.

During the movie Benji grabs a bag of peelable red licorice strips that he starts chowing down on. Every few peels he'll hold a couple strings up and offer them to Bucky or Sam.

-

Mrs. Doubtfire wraps up and you all get up to stretch and take bathroom breaks while setting up for the next movie.

You start clearing up some discarded pizza plates.

"Anybody want some cake?" Nora asks.

"Yes!" Benji cheers.

Nora goes to open a cake box, revealing a decorated vanilla & chocolate marble cake made to resemble a clock.

"Theodore, why is the 5 o'clock slice missing?" She points the serving knife over at her husband.

"Uh.. because seven ate five?"

Prudence lets out a snort of laughter. Nora just sighs while shaking her head, slicing into the cake to serve the rest.

"Alright, Benji," you hand him a plastic cup, "I scribbled down the movies on paper scraps and put them in the cup. Go ahead and pick out the next movie."

"How do we know you didn't put Star Wars in there for every entry?" Monty points an accusing finger at you.

Benji reaches in and pulls out A Knight's Tale. You hold a middle finger up while Monty cheers, "Only joking, sweet Y/n. I knew you'd never do that." He cuts his eyes over to Prudence quickly, mouthing "What are the odds?"

"You owe me five," she mouths back while holding up her hand.

Monty gives her a quick high-five, earning an eye roll from Prudence. "That was my fault for not being more specific that I meant dollars, you cheeky bastard."

Monty grins and leans over, stealing a kiss from her.

-

Mid-movie Benji let's out a slight snore-snort as he startles himself awake, sitting up straight. "Wha- is it midnight yet?" He rubs at his eyes.

"It's not even 8pm yet, you lightweight," you toss a smaller pillow at him and it bounces off his head.

"Heyyy. So rude." He yawns while laying back down but instead of leaning back on Bucky again, he burrows into his own stack of pillows.

Bucky takes advantage of his newly freed arm and range of motion, reaching over to steal some of your snacks. You playfully glare over at him in mock offense as he gives you a smirk in return.

Benji pops his head back up suddenly, a new wave of energy hitting him at his sudden thought. His head whips around to look over at his parents on the couch behind him, his eyes staring owlishly wide at them.

Theo whispers over to Nora, "We made that terrifying little being."

"Straight up brought that chaos into this world," she whispers back. "How can we help you, sweet definitely-not-possessed baby boy of ours?"

"Can we play my new board game?"

"That sounds more like a group vote decision, my love."

Benji sits up on his knees sitting back enough to have all eyes on him. The overkill gut-punch pout and large puss in boots eyes appear, "Can we all play my new board game, pleeeease?" He clasps his hands together under his chin making sure to tilt his head and pitifully look at each adult while he begs.

"Man, that is stone cold. How do you say no to that?" Sam asks.

You and Nora sigh at the same time, "You don't."

"Which board game is it, Ben Ben?" Prudence asks.

"I'll go get it!" He leaps up and runs to a closet in the corner

"Are you sure you can stay awake long enough to play a game?" You tease.

"I was not sleeping! I was resting my eyes like Pop-pop! It wasn't my fault, Bucky's arm must have some sort of sleeping magic."

"Sleeping magic?" Bucky and Nora ask at the same time.

"Can't say I've unlocked that feature before," Bucky answers while flexing and twisting his arm back and forth as the plates shift with the motion.

"Please tell whoever made it I will donate my entire body to get some of this sleeping magic. Even if it's just a pinky," Nora pleads back.

"I'll pass that along," Bucky laughs.

Benji runs back in with his new board game proudly held over his head. A box that says... Benjopoly?

"Benji, what is this?" You ask taking the box from his hands to get a closer look.

"It's a custom monopoly board!" He jumps up and down in excitement.

"Hey, our house is on a spot!" You point at a spot on the box, "How cool! Why is this the first time I'm seeing this?"

"He wanted to surprise everyone with it today," Nora shrugged, "I haven't even seen some of the choices he went with yet."

"So can we play, pleeeease??" He begs.

You open the lid and hold the box back out to Benji. He's practically vibrating with excitement as he pulls the board out.

As Benji lays the board out you get a closer look at the property choices around the board. You also catch a glimpse at the little trinkets for player pieces.

"Sweet Jesus...." You sigh and shut your eyes while you press your fingers against them.

"What?" Bucky questions, "You okay?"

You clear your throat, "Fine, I'm fine..." You grab Benji by the back of his shirt and tug him over into your lap. He lands with a thump and gazes up at you with a look of complete innocence, but you know it is anything but. Placing your forehead against his, you playfully glare into his tiny mischievous eyes, "Wanna delight me with an answer on why you chose these places?"

Your house, the library, museum of natural history, a few fancy hotels, the gazebo at a local park, Brooklyn botanic garden, the aquarium, even Disneyland and the Smithsonian were on here. These were all innocent enough until you started noticing things like your childhood family church, city hall, the large barn on your uncle's property where Nora and Theo were married and you finally start to piece together... These were all a variety of wedding venue options. The player pieces? You noticed a diamond ring, top hat, flower bouquet, and a limo amongst them.

He beams up at you in return and rubs his nose against yours. He then pulls you into a tight hug, squeezing the life out of you. "Just some favorite places!"

"Oh hey, it's Uncle Dave's barrnnnn-ooooh..." Nora's sudden epiphany hits next. She looks over at you, her eyes wide but trying to keep a neutral face. She mouths, "I didn't know," over to you and winces.

"Oooh? Oooooh what?" Theo asks her.

"Uh..I was just thinking how long this is gonna take to play... Bubs, I know you're excited about this, but what do you think about something less time consuming? Like maybe Uno?"

Benji pouts and huffs while getting up and going to grab the deck of cards instead.

Nora makes quick work of packing up the board game and discarding the box discreetly under the couch.

At 10:45pm Prudence jumps up and starts lining up plastic champagne flutes, filling them with a sparkling cider. Benji also gets up and grabs a shopping bag from the corner of the room, pulling out a stack of cone shaped party hats, glittery gold paper crowns, and some foil horns to blow into. He passes out one of each to everyone, asking each person, "hat or crown?" while holding each option up.

You try to figure out the best way to make this work with your hair up. You grab two crowns. Bucky takes one from you and helps you adjust the sizes to put a crown around each bun on top of your head. He shakes his head once they're on and pulls his phone out, snapping a photo of you posing with your hands under your chin. Benji and Theo can be spotted in the background giggling as they were also trying to figure out how to give Theo a mohawk look with the party hats, elastic strings meant to go under your chin covering his face at weird angles to accommodate multiple hats going along the back of his head, which only makes them giggle harder. Nora shakes her head at their antics but has a smile on her face as she watches the two in amusement, a crown already on her head as well.

You grab Bucky's phone and go to take a picture of the both of you. He places his arm over your shoulder and smiles for the photo. After you take a couple to make sure you get a cute one you tell Sam to move closer and join in for a photo.

"I don't want a photo of Sam," Bucky argues with a huff. You lightly elbow him and Sam ignores Bucky, plastering a goofy grin on his face for a photo with both of you, while yelling "Misterwives!" as his way of saying 'cheese!'

Prudence checks her phone, "My co-worker lives up the street. She said they're all at the park having a new years party. Looks like there's a projector show of their own set up against the nearby buildings to watch the ball drop with music. Anybody interested in checking it out? We have enough time to get over there."

You trade your cookie monster bathrobe for a long wool coat and slip on your boots on the way out.

Bucky is giving an overtired, sugar-buzzed Benji a piggyback ride. Benj yaps away in his ear as you all walk along the sidewalk

"We have a 'bring your favorite person to school' day coming up soon. Can you come?" He asks Bucky while playing with the cone party hat on Bucky's head.

"EXCUSE me?!" Theo, Nora, and you stop short and yell at the same time.

"I can't pick just one of you. Two of you will get all butthurt. So I'm choosing outside the box.. or roof..? And then you all can be equally butthurt together."

"Unbelievable. The audacity," Nora scoffs and keeps walking while holding Theo's hand.

"Judas," Theo grumbles.

"Good thing we kept the receipts on those Christmas presents."

Benji ignores them and continues, "We eat lunch and they have some games set up around. We would totally crush it." He holds his fist up.

"Am I expected to make some sort of presentation?"

"Nope!"

"I'll think about it, but I think you have better options, pal."

"Nope!" He repeats and squeezes his grip around him.

"I thought I was offended before, now I'm extra offended. The absolute nerve," Theo scoffs.

"I'll text you the info," Benji fake whispers.

You get separated from Bucky at the park. He went to get you a water but he hasn't returned yet. You make a quick sweep through and finally find him, his body language clearly showing discomfort as he looks around. A woman is standing in front of him trying to pull him into conversation. You walk over and see his shoulders sag slightly with relief.

"There you are, we were about to start a search party!" You joke as you walk up to him and link your arm around his. "Hello," you greet the woman standing in front of him.

"Oh, hi!"

"This is the future Mrs," Bucky tilts his head towards you.

Her eyes dart down to your gloved hands.

"Yup, that's me," you play along, "Nice to meet you. Are you the owner of the salon on 8th? I think I've seen you there before? I've had an appointment with Mac before."

"Oh yes! We miss her. She moved back west after the baby was born."

"I heard. I'm happy for her, but she will definitely be missed."

"You'll like Alex, he has the same aura. Very welcoming and highly recommended by clients. His bridal updos are to die for."

"I'll keep that in mind. Happy New Year," you wave to her as you steer both you and Bucky away.

"We lose you for a few minutes and you're nearly on your way to another future wife, you stud."

"Haa-haa," he gives a flat response back, pulling you closer to him. "Can we go find the others before she decides to appear again?"

"What, you weren't enjoying your conversation with crazy eyes? She's loaded, you could have been her sugar baby."

-

The midnight countdown echoes as everyone chants down from ten.

At 'three', Bucky gently tugs you closer while his hand cups your jaw. His vibranium fingers brush gently against your chin, tilting your head towards him. You can feel your heart pounding faster in anticipation. The growing noise of the excited crowd starts to fade as he pulls you into a soft, tender kiss. Your lips fitting perfectly together.

The midnight cheers erupt and echo around you as you fight your own internal fireworks erupting for your new year's kiss. Time feels like it slows to a crawl.

"Happy New Year," you whisper with a grin when you finally pull away. You can't help but let out a laugh.

"Why are you laughing? What's so funny?" He squints down at you.

"Sorry, I don't wanna ruin the moment... This is just so cheesy," you bite your lip while holding back another laugh at the stunned look on his face.

"Cheesy? Cheesy?? You think this is cheesy, huh??" He squeezes your waist, while he playfully taunts you. With each question his face inches closer to you.

You break into laughter as his fingers tickle into your sides.

"I'll show you cheesy," his grip tightens as he dips you backwards, pulling you in for a breathtaking kiss.

Bucky lifts you back up and you both take a moment to breathe before he interrupts and pulls you back in for a more passionate kiss.

Benji makes his presence known by blowing a foil horn at both of you. The loud sound startles you away from the kiss. "Ew, was his tongue in your mouth? Or was that your tongue? Either way, tongue was involved here." He holds an accusing finger up at the two of you as his face twists in disgust.

Theo places a hand over Benji's forehead and directs him away. "Stop making things weird. Keep moving."

"I'm making it weird?? But that can't be sanitary!"

You hide your face against Bucky's shirt, both of you shaking with laughter. Tears fill your vision from a combo of the cold weather and your laughter. Your face burning up from both the exertion of laughing and the embarrassment of being called out by your nephew.

You finally look up and go to wipe your eyes but Bucky beats you to it. His finger slides along your cheek first and then gently swipes his thumb under your eyes. He takes extra care to wipe some of your smudged eyeshadow at the corners and he smiles warmly at you in the process.

"Are you gonna finally let me call you mine, or will Benji need a 12 step plan drafted up to help convince you?"

"I dunno, I might have to update my cootie shots and consult with the counsel. It's a whole to-do."

He growls and goes to squeeze your sides again, playfully nipping at your chin and cheek, "C'mere."

You giggle as you try to back away but he only squeezes you closer, "I'm still waiting for an answer," he locks his arms around you, holding you in place.

"How could I say no to this face?" You try to go squeeze his face but he has your arms pinned to your sides.

"That's not a proper answer," he squeezes tighter. "Are," he leans closer, "you," and closer, "my girl," his nose brushes against your cheek, "or not?"

"Yes."

You let out a surprised squeal as his bends slightly, moving his grip around your hips and upper thighs, lifting you off the ground and giving you an excited spin.

You gather the group back up and start to head back to the house. This time Theo gives a dozing Benji a piggyback ride.

You squeeze Bucky's hand and smile over at him. He squeezes back and pulls you closer as you both continue walking behind the group. You still can't believe how this all started. You're still expecting to blink and this all was one big hallucination.

Nora unlocks the front door as you return to the house and you all make your way back upstairs after discarding your coats and shoes.

Theo and Nora grab their pillows from the couch and decide to go sleep in their room. Theo's snoring would keep everyone awake. Although you're surprised Nora doesn't want to stay. She claims without Theo's snoring it's too quiet for her to fall asleep.

They offer Sam the couch, "If you stay down there, Benji sleeps like a starfish and moves around as if he's fighting crime in his sleep," they warn him on their way back downstairs.

"I do not," Benji grunts as he sits up while rubbing at his eyes. He reaches a tired hand up and pulls at a dangling string. A series of sheets pinned to the ceiling fall and section you all into your own little separate fort areas.

The couch area is almost completely covered, and both sides surround you and Bucky into a somewhat tent-like section together.

You hear snickering and look over to see Benji and Sam making shadow finger puppets at each other through the sheets.

Bucky moves to kneel while he grabs his pillow, and starts to shift as if he's going to stand up.

"Um, where are you going?" You ask.

"Home?" He answers, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"What do you mean home? It's late, just stay here?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why? Do you turn into a green ogre like Fiona?"

"I hate that I understand that reference now."

"You loved that movie and you know it. Stay and we can watch Shrek 2."

"They made another one?" He looks baffled at this fact.

"Oh, my sweet Fiona," he rolls his eyes at you, "there's a whole franchise. At least 4... or 5? Maybe 6. I'm honestly not sure at this point, but we're going to find out."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," you grin and grab the remote. You reach for his hand and tug him back down.

Everyone has settled into their spots. Monty and Prudence have already fallen asleep by the time you find the movie.

"Hey, Shrek 2!" Sam cheers quietly.

Bucky places a hand over his face. You try not to laugh as you grab his pillow from him and place it back in it's spot behind him. He moves his hand down to look over at you and shakes his head. You continue to grin over at him as you press play.

-

"You're still awake?" You whisper. The movie ended at least 15 minutes ago. Everyone else peacefully snoozing around you. Well, it's 50/50 on how peaceful Benji actually is, judging on the awkward position he's contorted and passed out in. Oh to be a kid and not worry about your neck and back again. You're already positive you're gonna be regretting this floor slumber later today, even with the foam padding attempt under you.

It's not that Bucky doesn't want to sleep, he just...can't. Too many people in the room. Too self conscious of having a nightmare and potentially disturbing the rest of the sleeping occupants. The last thing he wanted to be was a burden or a nuisance. His mind is also telling him to stay vigilant as he watches the staircase entrance.

He shrugs as his short answer, not wanting to voice his thoughts out loud.

"Sleep magic run out on you?" You joke, trying to lighten the mood when you see the dark look in his eyes, the wheels turning in thought behind them. You can tell he's fighting his answer, a look of uncertainty on his face, but a lazy smile appears. He shakes his head at you.

Laying on your side, you scoot closer and grab his right arm, hugging it against you. "Can I borrow your sleep magic then?"

Bucky smiles over at you as you drift off. He tugs your pillow closer and tucks it against his arm some more so your head and neck are more comfortable. He places a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment. He slowly tilts his head back up towards the ceiling. However, he continues to stay awake. Silently watching the stars and swirling patterns dance across the room. Soaking in the comfort and the feeling of being surrounded by people that care for him. In their own dream worlds.

Benji starts to stir with a slight grumble. Bucky lazily turns his head and watches the shadow of a small lump shift slightly closer to him behind the sheet.

"Un Buc, m'gumdrops. Gone," he mumbles together in his sleep. "How dare...th's m'ne. Hmmph." He shifts again, an arm and leg flailing as he turns over and starts to settle back into a deep sleep. Bucky shakes his head in amusement and goes back to watching the ceiling.

-

Hours later, Bucky is still awake when everyone starts slowly shifting and waking up. He hears Prudence and Monty shift around as they quietly make their way downstairs.

You start to stir and stretch next to him soon after. He watches as you rub your eyes and then bury your face into both your pillow and his arm. He waits a moment to see if you're awake. You finally peak up at him, giving him a slurred greeting.

"Mornin', " he greets back with a tired smile. You clock the dark circles under his eyes.

"Please don't tell me you've been awake this whole time."

"Course not. I feel fresh as a daisy."

"Liar."

You sit up, grab your pillows and drag him downstairs.

"Where are we going?" He asks at the bottom of the stairs. You ignore his question and approach the door to your room. "Can't drag me to your bed fast enough, huh?"

"Oh baby, you're about to get hours," you pause and look over at him, leaning up closer, "and hours," you lower your voice and kiss his knuckles quickly, "of great sleep. Let's go." You pull on his arm again and direct him over to the bed. You give him a push towards it and take a step towards the side table. He sits on the edge of the bed and watches as you open the side table drawer, pulling out a small spray bottle. Uncapping it, you give two quick spritzes over the pillow areas and one more in the general area over the bed behind him before putting the cap back on and tossing it back in the drawer.

"What the hell was that?" He blinks at you.

"Lavender spray," you shrug and walk over to your dresser. "It's supposed to be calming and relaxing to assist you with falling asleep." Opening a bottom drawer of the dresser you pull out a water bottle and set it on the side table.

Bucky watches in amusement, observing the other bright colored packages of what looks to be a snack stash in the same drawer before you close it.

"Are you one of those doomsday preppers? Or is it a hoarding thing? What else do you have stashed around here?"

"Look, I'm just trying to survive in this household. Benji and his little friends eat everything. I'm terrified when puberty hits. Also, I don't feel like going all the way downstairs when I'm thirsty," you shrug. "Now will you lay down?"

You pull the blankets back, "Chop chop. Don't make me dump that whole bottle of lavender on you."

He rolls his eyes and lays back against the pillows.

"Is this ok? Are you comfortable? Do you need space and want me to leave?"

He scoots back and grabs your arm, tugging you onto the bed next to him. You sit on the edge of the bed and he pulls your arm again, and then places a gentle hand on your leg making you lay down next to him. You lay on your side facing him.

"That didn't answer my questions. Do you need music? white noise? a bedtime story? I can go grab the comforter," You continue to ramble on.

"Just a good night kiss," he pouts his lips towards you.

You lean over and place a soft kiss to his waiting lips.

He smiles and wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you to him. "Goodnightmorning," he whispers.

You let out a soft laugh in return and place another kiss to his cheek which gets another smile from him.

You start to lightly run your fingertips up and down his forearm and then repeat again lightly with your nails, back to your fingertips.

He hums in appreciation.

"Goodnightmorning. Sweet dreams," you whisper back as he drifts off.

Dividers by @saradika

[tommyandbuck]

Chimney discovers a recipe for making Buck do whatever he wants him to do. Only 3 ingredients are needed: a daughter, a pilot and a toy.

He discovers it by accident when Buck and Tommy come over for dinner one day. And it’s a special “I need something and only you can help me” kind of dinner. So they go all out making Buck’s favorite foods hoping that he’d agree to babysit Jee-Yun for a few days while they go away on a shortest, tiniest vacation.

The dinner is over and it’s now or never. Chimney asks Jee-Yun to show Tommy her new toy helicopter while ‘Mommy and Daddy talk to uncle Buck’.

They start off by saying how much Jee-Yun loves him and how great it would be for her to spend so much time with her favorite uncle. And Buck just says “yes”, no hesitation, no questions, not needing them to convince him. That’s when Chimney realizes that Buck didn’t even look at them once, his eyes were fixed on his boyfriend playing with his niece the entire time.

A theory starts forming in his head, because Buck agreed way too easily. Of course, it could be because Buck loves Jee-Yun and his daughter is an angel (most of the time anyway), but his heart tells him it’s not it.

So, Chimney sets out to prove his newfound theory.

At Bobby and Athena’s house he ask Jee-Yun to go up to uncle Buck and Tommy and ask Tommy to give her a piggyback ride. Meanwhile Chimney asks Buck to take over his firehouse quarters’ cleaning duties next shift. Buck agrees.

At the Wilsons’ house Buck agrees to loan Chimney his precious car for a week.

At his house Buck agrees to name his firstborn child Howard.

At the firehouse team and family party Chimney and Maddie once again find themselves asking Buck to babysit Jee-Yun for a couple of days. Buck agrees, looking at them this time, a dreamy look in his eyes. He says he and Tommy love having her around. And they could use the practice.

Maddie jumps up in her seat and asks Buck if he’s thinking about starting a family with Tommy.

Buck shows her his left hand, his ring finger no longer empty. “We already have,” he says, “Asked each other last night.”

Tommy comes over with Jee-Yun on his shoulders, laughing and shrieking “Uncle Tommy” while he tickles her feet.

He sees the stunned expressions on his future in-laws’ faces and Buck twirling his ring, smiling wide.

Tommy laughs, connecting the dots. He sets Jee-Yun down. He grabs Buck’s hand and sits down next to him.

“Maddie and Chim are asking us to babysit Jee-Yun next week,” Buck says happily. “I said sure.”

“Seeing me and her worked like a charm again, huh?” Tommy laughs again while Buck shrugs his shoulders.

Tommy looks at Chimney and Maddie and says, “We’d be happy to,” and adds after a moment, “By the way, Howie. We’re not naming our first child Howard, I’m sorry.”

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"tea" - emily prentiss x fem!liasion!reader

summary: you make a cup of tea to help you sleep

wc: 1.2k

cw: none, really? mostly fluff, & just emily being the best girlfriend ever

a/n: i'm in an emily phase rn and i'm not responsible for the fics i write ok ly all bad

A teal, ceramic mug with I <3 MYRTLE BEACH carved into it is cradled between both your hands as you lean against the kitchen counter. Your sleepovers at Emily’s apartment have become more and more frequent these days, which is lucky for you, really, because now you have a drawer where you can keep your comfortable, printed pajama sets. The set you have on tonight is blue, decorated with cartoon puppies. The shorts ride up your ass a little as you lean against the counter, but it’s no matter to you. Not right now, not when you’re the only one awake.

Or so you thought. 

Emily’s steps are akin to that of a kitten as she pads into the kitchen. Her ivory skin is the first thing you see, standing out in contrast of her dimly lit apartment. Then her dark hair, pulled up in a chaotic bun on the top of her head, leaning a little to the left because she always sleeps on her side. 

“Shit, Em, did the kettle wake you?” You grimace as she treads softly towards you. Her eyes squint to adjust to the light you have on over the range, and she reaches a closed fist out to chuck your chin playfully on her way to the refrigerator. 

“It’s alright,” she says, her voice like sandpaper compared to the usual velveteen you hear all day long. She must have been deep asleep, then. You feel a pang of guilt tug at your heart as you take a long sip of your tea. Emily grabs a handful of green grapes from the bowl in the fridge, popping one into her mouth. She glides to stand against the kitchen island, opposite a small stretch of linoleum from you. “You’re having trouble falling asleep again?” 

You shrug a little, trying to be nonchalant about it, but the truth is, you’ve been unable to fall asleep for a few weeks now. You chalk it up to a bad case about a month ago - unfortunately, both the unsub and their latest victim didn’t make it. You’ve had cases that didn’t end well before, but this victim was a young girl and you can’t help the way this one lingers in the back of your mind, like a bad aftertaste. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, baby,” Emily says before crunching down on a grape, the last one in her hand. You set your tea down on the counter beside you and cross the linoleum street that separates you and your girlfriend, wrapping your arms around her neck. Her satin pajamas tickle your cheek as you press your forehead into the crook of her shoulder. 

You cling to her like a koala and Emily just keeps her hands on your waist, holding you closely as you embrace her. She smells like jasmine and vanilla, and you almost want to chastise her because you know that means she stole your perfume. 

“My head just feels very full these days,” you sigh after a few moments, pulling away. Emily uses her hold on your hips to guide your back against the kitchen island. You hoist yourself up onto it and Emily moves to stand between your legs. 

“It’s that Oregon case, isn’t it?” she asks, tucking your hair behind your ear with one hand, the other palm resting flat on your thigh. 

“How’d you know?” you ask, an eyebrow quirking upward. 

“You asked Reid to help you finish your report on it,” Emily begins. “Two out of three cases since then have revolved around young girls, like you’re overcompensating, and Derek told me he saw you zoning out by the coffee machine while Anderson and JJ were discussing the case.”

You feel pink rush to your cheeks. All of Emily’s evidence is factual, much as it pains you to admit. “Is that all?” you deadpan, feeling a little sheepish. You also want to lay into your coworkers for being such tattletales. As the Communications Liaison, you generally maintain a well-rounded, professional disposition, but you suppose even your attitude at work has been lacking recently. 

“And, y’know, the gut feeling,” Emily adds. “You’ve been a little slower getting ready for work, almost like you’re dreading it.” 

“We agreed, no more profiling at home,” you remind her. She runs her thumb over the dimple in your chin. 

“It’s not profiling, it’s knowing my girlfriend,” Emily bites back with a compassionate sincerity that makes you want to eat her alive. How did you get so lucky? “You’re usually dragging me out of bed in the mornings, not the other way around.” 

You rake your fingers through her hair, meeting her dark eyes in the soft, dim light of the kitchen. This is as romantic a backdrop as any, in your opinion - lovelier than Paris, Rome, and London combined. You’ve always heard that to be loved is to be known, and boy, does Emily know you. 

“Well, I’m sorry for waking you up,” you concede in a slight change of subject, tracing your thumb across her hairline. “D’you want some tea? It’s that herbal stuff for sleep that Penelope recommended.” 

Emily shakes her head, kissing your jaw gently, then your cheek, finally your lips. It’s brief but it carries so many words. “No, thank you,” she says in a whisper, then steps back, grabs your cup from the other counter, and hands it to you. 

You take a drink, the warmth seeping in through your nostrils. “Do you love Myrtle Beach, Em?” you ask with a small laugh as you examine the mug in your hands. It’s obviously handmade, with the splotches of teal paint and weird lumps - and the lack of a handle. 

Emily just laughs, turning around and hoisting herself up onto the countertop beside you. You eye her smooth legs sticking out of those black, satin pajama shorts, and, uncontrollably, you set your mug down and place a hand over her thigh. “I’ve actually never been to Myrtle Beach,” she says. “I bought that at a thrift store.”

“So, you buy designer pajama sets off the rack, but you shop for your mugs secondhand?” you chortle a little, drawing circles into the sliver of pearly white thigh peeking out from her shorts.

“Yep,” Emily confirms, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word and shooting you a sideways smirk. “I like some things luxurious, but other things with lots of personality.”

“And which one am I?” you ask all-knowingly, leaning a little closer so your mouth was mere centimeters for hers.

“Oh, c’mon, now, you know you’re both.” Emily teases, then kisses you softly. 

You smile into the kiss, one hand curving against the smooth angle of her jaw to keep her face by yours for just a moment longer. “I really am sorry I woke you up,” you whisper as you pull away. 

“Don’t be,” Emily insists, resting her forehead against yours. “If it comes down to staring at the ceiling all night or waking me up by making tea, just wake me up. Okay?” 

You start to pull back, but Emily’s hand cups your cheek to keep your eyes on hers. “Okay?” she repeats. 

You nod. “Mhm. Okay, Em.” 

“Good, sweet, lovely girl,” Emily murmurs, pecking your lips once more before hopping off the counter. She offers you a hand to help you down. “Let’s try again, shall we?”