#pouting and throwing a fit is a key part of our writing process

[jayparked]

writing is going well

[emmyhem]

good stupid (l.r.h)

a/n: hi again! this is a short and sweet luke x student fem!reader imagine, and my first time posting smut,, i’m planning on posting some angsty stuff pretty soon sooo i wanted to have something pretty fluffy up but as i wrote it became clear to me that smut would fit well. so with all that being said, i hope you enjoy - emmy <33 (p.s, requests are still open but i am working on quite a few already and they take me slightly longer to write than my own pieces because i want to be sure i’m doing them justice. but all requests are extremely appreciated as well as any feedback on my writing. and i’m always up to chat, if you ever have something on your mind, no matter how random :)) 

pairing: luke hemmings x student fem!reader 

summary: an innocent but important secret sparks a competitiveness between you and your boyfriend, but it may end in both of your favor. 

warnings: smut, oral sex (female receiving), cursing, but mainly just fluffy romantic sex 

word count: 2.2k

Luke’s head was in your lap as you read from your textbook intently. Your eyebrows were tugged together and your lips pouted in concentration. 

“You’re pretty.” he hummed, a sweet grin on his face. 

You glanced down, scrunching your nose in fondness. 

“You too.” you responded, poking his cheek.

“Stop, I’m blushing.” he joked, hiding his face behind his hands.

You laughed before turning your attention back to your studies, but Luke’s eyes remained glued to you only breaking contact occasionally to blink. You could feel his eyes on you, making it extremely hard to focus.

“Luke.” you scolded. 

“What?” he whined. 

“You gotta stop staring. I'm trying to study bub.”

“No can do, lovie. M’studying too.” he protested. 

“And what are you studying?” you questioned. 

“You.” he said matter of factly. “Happens to be my favorite subject.” 

You pressed your lips together tightly to avoid smiling like an idiot. The two months you’d spent with Luke had been the best of your life, for the first time you felt like things were just right. It was as if you had been made for him and you kept finding yourself having to actively avoid blurting out the big L word. It was like it was always at the tip of your tongue threatening release, any time he would compliment you, or hug you tighter than normal, and it was especially hard when he kept looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. 

So caught up in your lovestruck haze, you hadn’t noticed that you had sat your book down next to you on the couch and were staring off into space.

Luke sat up and pulled you to his chest.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he poked, pressing a swift kiss to the top of your hairline. 

“Just thinking.” you mumbled into his shoulder. 

“Bout what? You gotta tell me I’m trying for an A in y/n studies.” 

You laughed while shaking your head. 

“I’m thinking about saying something stupid.” you said timidly, pulling out of Luke’s embrace to look him in the eyes. 

“Good stupid or bad stupid?” 

“M’not quite sure.” you answered, moving back into Luke’s arms. 

His eyes flashed with mischief as he leaned away from you.

“I’ll give you a kiss if ya tell me.” 

“I can get one of those whenever I want.” you replied, chasing his lips with your own. 

“Nah, I think I’ll hold out for a while, can’t have you keeping secrets.” 

You laughed, knowing how needy your boyfriend could get, “We’ll see how long that lasts.” 

“Heyyy,” he drawled out. “No laughing, baby I’m serious. You won’t be getting any action till you spill.” 

You just pretended to zip your lips shut and throw away the key in response before continuing your work.  He would give in within the hour, you were sure of it. 

This has been the longest 3 days of your life. You had no idea when kissing Luke had become such a big part of your everyday routine but it was becoming abundantly clear to you that it was. 

Like this morning, when your alarm woke you up for class and you rolled over to kiss him without even thinking about it. You were centimeters away from making contact before a smile broke on Luke’s face and he rolled over to mumble, 

“No kisses for you.” before closing his eyes once again. 

Or when you dropped off lunch for the guys at the studio, you had been expecting at least a peck to express his gratitude for your favor, but all you got was a quick kiss on the back of your hand and a sly, 

“Thank you, baby.” 

Tonight you were determined, and  there was no way in hell you would be the one to give in. You were cooking when he got home, freshly showered and wearing only one of�� his favorite shirts. Luke heard you before he saw you, humming to ABBA from the kitchen, he chuckled to himself  before turning the corner. 

“Hi baby.” you greeted, spinning on your heel while you sucked a bit of pasta sauce off your finger. 

Luke groaned at the sight of you before sauntering over and wrapping his arms around your waist as you stirred your cooking pasta. 

“You are making this extremely hard for me.” he hissed in your ear. Emphasis on the hard as he pressed himself against your back. 

You squeezed your thighs together at the feeling but held your composure as you spun to face him. 

“I dunno what you're talking about, Lu.” 

“Tell me your secret and we can go upstairs.” he whined, tugging you away from the stove.

“And let my dinner get cold?” you teased, waving a disapproving  finger. 

As you finished cooking Luke sat at the table, his eyes following your every move. 

“Food’s ready.” you announced as you pulled two plates from the cabinet. 

When no response came you looked in his direction. He nodded and beckoned you forward with the curl of two fingers. You took a seat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“What’s a matter, baby? Aren’t you hungry?” you cooed in his ear. 

Luke clenched his jaw and ran a finger along your thigh, “I’m begging you to fess up. You’re looking way too pretty not to kiss and I don’t like to give in.” 

“Me neither” you countered, your forehead pressed against his. 

“Baby,” he whined. 

“You really wanna know?” you said, your feet carrying you back to the counter as you got an unexpected surge of confidence. 

“You have no idea.” he sighed from behind you. “Please put us both out of our misery, hm?” 

“I love you.” you admitted, holding your breath as you stared at the marble countertop in front of you. 

You could hear Luke stand up and felt his breath on the back of your neck within a second. 

“That’s my secret.” you continued.

His hands ran down your sides before settling firmly on your hips, which he used as leverage to spin you in his direction. You kept your eyes to the floor once facing him but he was quick to change that, using his thumb and pointer to tilt your chin up. You looked up through your lashes to meet his eyes. 

“And I love you more.” he returned. And there he went again with that look, as if you were his favorite thing in the entire universe. 

You let out a sigh of relief, one that was cut short by Luke’s lips moving urgently against your own. You both seemed to melt into each other as his tongue worked its way into your mouth. He was quick to pick you up and set you on the counter, this way he wouldn’t strain his neck to kiss you. The kiss was breathy, needy, and exactly what your body had been craving for the past three torturous days. 

“We are never ever doing that again.” he spoke into your mouth between kisses. 

“Mhm.” you agreed as his hands groped at your thighs, pushing his shirt that you had on up in the process. 

“Wrap your legs around me.” he instructed as you pulled away to breath. 

“Lu, dinner.” you protested. 

“I know, lovie. Later, I promise but right now m’hungry for something else and I can’t wait any longer.” 

“Okay,” you agreed breathlessly, wrapping your legs around him tightly as he carried you into the bedroom. 

Once in the bedroom he laid you out on the bed muttering out broken praises as he kissed down your neck. 

“Hardest three days of my life.” he admitted as his hands slid under your shirt. 

His palms were warm and rough on your skin and the only response you could muster was a soft whimper.  

Once he found his way to your nipples you were a moaning mess beneath him. 

“Off” you sighed, sitting up a bit so he could remove the shirt, leaving you completely bare. 

He ran a finger down your stomach as he spoke, “So pretty for me, angel.” 

You shuddered at his words feeling more needy by the second. 

“Lu, please.” 

“Feeling eager, baby? Me too. But I just wanna enjoy the girl I love for a bit.” he continued, as he settled between your legs. 

Your heart skipped a beat at the word love, and you couldn’t help the dopey smile that appeared on your face. 

He began peppering light kisses on your thighs each one slightly closer to where you needed him most. You started to squirm impatiently causing him to pull away and hover over your face, 

“I love you.” he declared. 

“I love you too.” you affirmed, straining your neck leaning to kiss him. Once you pulled away he grinned before returning to his previous position. 

He wasted no more time before attaching his lips to your clit, working it furiously under his tongue. 

Your head immediately threw back in pleasure, and if it weren’t for Luke’s hands holding you down you were sure your hips would’ve bucked up. 

You were whimpering relentlessly as he hummed in content against you. 

“Taste’s so good, baby. Missed this so much.” 

You only mewled in response, feeling your first orgasm begin to creep up on you already. 

“Lu,” you moaned, your hands finding his hair and tugging lightly causing him to grunt. “M’close.” 

“Yea? Doing so good, wanna come for me, love?” he questioned, adding a finger as he continued the assault on your clit. 

“Y-yes” you stuttered out, your breath catching in your throat as you reached your climax. You shook under Luke’s hold as he worked you through your orgasm. 

As you recovered he nipped at your neck and left a trail of kisses up your jaw before finally reaching your lips. You kissed him sloppily still feeling hazy from the pleasure. 

“Gonna let me take you?” he cooed, continuing to pepper kisses all over your face. 

“Please.” you nodded. 

“Okay, baby. Lemme grab something.” he said before carrying himself over to his nightstand to retrieve a condom. 

Once he rolled the condom on and made his way back to you he rubbed his thumb on your hip as he lined himself up with your entrance. 

“Ready?” 

“Yea, Lu. Need you” you mewled. 

He began to press into you slowly, letting your body adjust to the stretch as he inched in. Once he was completely in, you clenched in pleasure at the sensation of being so completely full. This caused Luke to grunt loudly, 

“Fuck, so good for me, angel” he praised. “Lemme know when I can move. Okay, baby?”

You nodded quickly as you took your bottom lip in between your teeth. 

“Move, please.” you begged, desperate for friction. 

He started with slow thrusts, they were passionate and so filling you felt like you might actually burst. His thumb found your clit and began rubbing slow circles as he continued. 

“F-faster,” you stumbled over your words, the pleasure overwhelming you. “I need faster.” 

Luke was happy to comply, picking up the pace with each thrust. As he pounded into you harder he pressed further, his head nudging at your g-spot causing you to squeal, your fingers gripping at the sheets. 

“Is that the spot?” he questioned hitting it repeatedly, causing your brain to essentially go numb. The only active thought being, Luke. 

You physically couldn’t gather the strength or power to speak so instead you just nodded, your entire body falling slack as your second orgasm approached. 

“Gonna come for me again, baby? Show me how good I’m making you feel?” 

As if you weren’t already feeling enough, Luke chose this moment to attach his lips to your neck again sucking harshly at the spot he knew made you weak. 

“Fuck, baby.” he groaned, breaking away. “Can feel you clenching around me. Cum for me y/n, I know you can do it. C’mon gimme one more, wanna come with you.” 

You came undone around him as he hit your most sensitive spot over and over again. He followed immediately after, your name falling from his lips repeatedly during his release. 

So completely fucked out, you didn’t even notice when he pulled out, and tied off the condom before throwing it away and flopping down next to you on the bed. 

“How are you doing, my love.” he asked sweetly while pulling you to his chest.

You nodded into him and mumbled, “m’good, really good.” 

“I love you so much.” he spoke into your forehead before pressing a wet kiss on it. “How ‘bout I get ya all cleaned up and then warm us up some dinner to eat in bed?” he questioned, eyes studying your face. 

“Will you shower with me?” you asked timidly. 

“Well, I wasn’t planning on doing it alone.” he teased, lifting you up. 

As he sat on the edge of the tub, you on his lap, letting the shower run over his hand to ensure the water temperature was just right for you, you buried your face into his neck. 

“M’so glad I told you my secret.” 

“Me too.” he laughed. “Though, that whole no kissing thing was stupid.” 

“Good stupid.” you countered.

[softyoongiionly]

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life  

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations  

-They came for the music  

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday  

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso  

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook  

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings  

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set  

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious  

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning  

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building  

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific  

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter  

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something  

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then  

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person  

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok  

-Maybe you do  

-Kinda  

-Pay attention  

-but it’s not your fault!!!!  

-You just  

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing  

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering  

-Crush  

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault  

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus  

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)  

-And teachers have to study very very hard  

-Educating the youth is no easy feat  

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity  

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky  

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way  

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky  

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration  

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away  

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately  

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review  

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so  

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected  

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated  

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way  

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance  

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase  

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins  

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles  

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to  

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract  

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived  

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him  

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this  

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically  

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later  

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-���

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

[connordavidscamera]

Saying Goodbye | Connor Brashier

A/n: What? Tori writing and posting a new fic??? The world must be coming to an end or something. But please let me know what you guys think of this one because it might have a part 2 if you guys like it? I have more ideas for it, so let me know! Summary: Connor is leaving for college and that means having to leave you behind.

Warnings: kinda angsty?

Word Count: 3.3k

***

I knew this day would come. But I didn’t realize it would come so soon.

Being with Connor for the past (almost) two years has been nothing short of a dream. The problem thought? He’s two grades ahead, so he’s leaving for college… next week. Which is why I’m here, sitting on his bed, helping him pack up his stuff. He sets his suitcase on the bed in front of me and sighs, “Okay, so I guess I could start packing up the clothes that I know I won’t be wearing in the next week, right?” He asks, opening the suitcase.

I nod, “Sure, baby. You want to hand it to me, and I’ll fold it? Make sure everything fits nicely.”

He smiles and nods, leaning forward to kiss me. “Sounds perfect. Thanks, kid.”

I’ve folded four shirts and set them nicely in his suitcase when I get an idea. While he’s sifting through his clothes, I quickly move from my place on the bed, into the open spot in front of me and  laugh when he turns around with another two shirts.

He chuckles, “What are you doing?”

I shrug, “Sorry, but there’s no more room for clothes because I’m going with. See? I fit perfectly, right here.”

He shakes his head and throws the shirts on the bed beside me, putting his hands on either side of the open suitcase. “I like that idea. Can I zip you up? Make sure you really fit?” He presses his forehead against mine.

I lean forward and bump his nose with mine. “Don’t be silly, I can’t go in your suitcase. Once you zip it, there won’t be enough air for me.”

He pouts dramatically, “I’ll leave it open just enough. And then I’ll have everything I need if you come with.”

I nod and play with the tufts of hair on the nape of his neck. “I’ll be there. Just give me a couple years, yeah?”

He’s still pouting, but nods. “Okay. Kiss?”

“As many as you want, Brash.”

“And if I want them all?” He questions, leaning back, taking his shirts off the hangers.

“Then you get them all,” I say, taking his shirt from his hands and pouting when I see it.

“Hey, why the long face?”

“You’re taking my favorite shirt,” I say, looking up at him.

He sighs and leans in, kissing my pouty lips. “Thought you already had that one. You literally wore it the other day.”

I roll my eyes, “No, I meant dress up shirt. The rhude shirt is my favorite everyday shirt.”

“So, you don’t really have a single favorite shirt then?” He shakes his head with a soft smile.

“Well all of your shirts are really my favorite. You look good in everything.”

“I could leave the shirt if you want it.”

I shake my head, “No. It’s okay. Just send me lots of pictures when you do wear it,” I say, folding the shirt and putting it on top of the others that are already in the suitcase. I look up at him and smile softly at his pretty face.

“What?” he chuckles. “What’s that face for?”

I reach up and pull him to me by the nape of his neck, bringing him in for a deep kiss. “Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?” I ask when I pull away, eyes still shut tight.

I hear him sigh again before he presses another gentle kiss to my lips. “I promise, I’m gonna stay as long as I possibly can.”

“Help me out of this thing?” I hold my hands out for him and he nods.

“Course I will.”

So, we create a system while I help him pack up his clothes. It’s a slow process because he’s only handing me one shirt at a time just to ensure he’s getting all those kisses he says that he wants. And I’m glad to give them to him. But by the time we get to the fifteenth shirt, the kisses are getting longer and it’s clear that we’re both over this packing thing for now. Which is why when he goes to pull away from the kiss, I whine and pull him back. “Not yet.”

He nods and tosses his shirt behind him, cradling my face as I lean back, pulling him with me. We stay like this for a while, mouths pressed against each other’s in a heated, passionate kiss that neither of us want to break. But we don’t have much of a choice when there’s a knock on his bedroom door and his brother comes in not even a second later.

“I hope you’re decent,” he says as Connor gets off me, running his hand through his ruffled hair. I sit up, covering my mouth with a clenched fist.

“You know, usually people wait for someone to say ‘come in’ before just walking in.”

Dylan shrugs. “It’s not like you’re doing much in here anyway.”

Connor rolls his eyes, “What do you need, Dylan? We’re packing.”

“I know. Mom told me to tell you guys we were going out for dinner.”

“Okay?” he shrugs.

“We, as in all of us. As in you and y/n need to get in the car because we’re leaving in five minutes.”

“But-“

“Mom said it wasn’t negotiable.”

I stifle a laugh at that because I know she said it exactly like that because she knew Connor would try to get out of it. I stand from the bed and hold my hand out for him. “Come on, bub.”

He locks our fingers. “But you and I can get dinner?” he says, to which I shake my head.

“Dylan, can you give us just a minute? We’ll be right down, I promise.”

Dylan nods. “Yeah, I’ll tell them you’re on your way.” He turns and I wait until the door closes to look back at my boyfriend.

“We don’t have to go,” he says to me.

“Yes, we do. It’s non-negotiable,” I joke.

“But I wanted to stay here with you. Make out a little more?” he pouts.

“And while I would love that too, I’m not the only one that has you for only one more week.”

“Kid-“

“No, I know. We’re still not talking about it. But your parents are gonna miss you too. And even though Dylan won’t show it, he will too. So one dinner with your parents won’t kill you.”

He sighs, “I hate when you’re right.”

I shrug, “Come on, we don’t want to keep them waiting any longer.” I let go of his hand to grab my purse from his (now) sadly empty desk.

---

It wasn’t until after I said it to him that I realized how true it was. I only had a week left with him and then he was off for college. Starting a new chapter of his life, and… we still haven’t talked about if I’m going to be part of it. I mean, I guess part of me assumes that we’re going to try the whole long distance thing, but what if he decides that it’d be best to go to school single. So that he can get the full college experience without me holding him back.

I look over at my boy, who is scrolling through his phone with one hand and stroking my thumb with the other. I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder, allowing his lips to press against my temple and I try not to imagine what life is going to be like without his lips. I’ve grown so used to being so close that the thought of him leaving is severely messing with my head. But I won’t let him see that.

So I put on a brave face throughout dinner, but it’s just a little harder to hide it when we’re back in his room, finishing up with his clothes. But I don’t think he’s noticed.

“That’s the last shirt, kid,” he says, resting his hands on my hips. He kisses the back of my head as he watches me fold the shirt before setting it in his suitcase.

I nod and reach forward to close the top. “Well… guess you’re pretty much all packed up, now,” I say, looking around at his room that is filled with boxes that are already taped shut and labeled.

He looks around too, squeezing my hip. “I guess. Would still like to take you with me though.”

I smile sadly, “Yeah, wish I could.”

“I should probably get you home now, huh? It’s almost curfew.”

I swallow the growing lump in my throat. “Yeah, I should go.”

“Let me get my keys and we can go?”

“Bubba?” I say when he turns to get his keys.

“Yeah?”

“You think we could just drive around for a little bit?”

“But don’t I have to get you home?”

I shrug, “I’ll call them and ask if I can stay a little longer. Tell them that packing is taking a little longer than anticipated?”

“You sure?” he turns his head to the side and looks at me, raising a quizzical brow. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

I sigh and nod. “Okay, but… you think you can sneak in tonight?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “How many nights have you gone without me there?” He questions.

I roll my eyes, “Okay, I get it. Dumb question.”

He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, “Come on, let’s get you home, kid.”

The drive to my house is silent, except for the soft music playing through the speakers. Connor’s hand is placed rightfully on my thigh and he rubs his thumb over the outline of my knee.

“See you in fifteen minutes?” he asks when he parks in my driveway.

I nod. “Window’s open.” I slide out of his car and to the front door, which, like it always is until I get home, is unlocked. When I close the door, Connor pulls out of the driveway, making it seem like he’s going back home, when in reality, he’s parking around the block so that my parents don’t see his car parked out front.

It’s worked for us for the past two years. He hasn’t been caught yet. I smile fondly at the memory of when he first snuck in. He had been over to my house once before while we were working on page layouts. From the second I stepped into that yearbook classroom; he was my go-to. Although, he did kind of make it that way.

“I’ll take the freshman. Get the kid familiar with everything.” He was a junior at the time, and photo editor. He was also insanely gorgeous. Anyone with eyes could tell that he was the most beautiful boy to walk this earth. (Of course, I might be biased though.)

He was a cocky sonofabitch. But I couldn’t find it in me to care. Not when I looked at his eyes that just seemed to always be sparkling. Or his hair that was screaming for me to run my fingers through it. Or his lips that seemed to be set in this perfect pout. And when he got me alone? That façade changed. And he was just Connor. He was funny and beautiful, and albeit, a little bit awkward. When we were able to properly introduce ourselves to each other, he stumbled over his words and he couldn’t even look me in the eye as he blurted out, “You’re really pretty.”

I was red as a tomato, I know I was. Because this beautiful boy, who could be in a museum, he’s so goddamn beautiful, thought I was pretty.

That day was the start of his oh-so endearing nickname for me. Kid. I didn’t hate it then. And I still don’t now. It’s probably my favorite thing actually.

We’d been working together for a couple of weeks, when he told me that he had more to teach me, because I was picking everything up so quickly. He asked me if it was okay if he came over to teach me a few things and I agreed. Not necessarily because I wanted to learn more, but because I wanted to spend more time with him. And we did. We probably worked on page designs for a solid fifteen minutes before we got bored of it and just started talking. We were sitting on my living room floor, telling embarrassing stories and laughing, and genuinely getting to know each other and enjoy the company of one another on a different level. It was nice to see him when he wasn’t trying to be so “professional” even though it was only a high school yearbook. But it turns out he did have a goofy side. And that just made him all the more attractive to me.

We soon started texting almost nonstop, flirting here and there. And in the midst of flirting one day, he told me he had taken a photo that made him think of me. I could not have been more smitten with him at this point. I begged him to send it to me, but he said he wanted to show it to me in person. I contested and finally said that was fine.

But I didn’t expect him to show up at my window no more than thirty minutes later. I held my hand to my chest as I hurriedly walked over to my window to unlock and open it. “Connor what are you doing here?” I whispered, looking back to my closed door. My parents had gone to sleep about an hour ago, but I was paranoid they heard him.

“Can I come in?” he asks sheepishly.

“Um, yeah,” I moved to the side, allowing him to come into the room.

He stands there next to me, by the window still, and looks around. “Nice room,” he comments, his eyes landing on the photos plastered to my wall behind my bedframe.

“Connor, how’d you get up here?”

“Climbed your tree,” he said casually, moving deeper into the room.

“But why?” I crossed my arms over my chest, still sparing glances to my door, keeping my ears trained for any sign of movement from the outside. I don’t want either of us getting caught.

“I wanted to show you that picture.”

“Okay,” I nod. “But you couldn’t show me tomorrow in class?”

He shrugged, “I couldn’t wait.” But then he paused when he looked back at me and slipped his hands in his pockets. “I know I should have asked first. Is this okay?”

I scoff lightly, “You’re already here.”

“But I can go if you’re not comfortable.”

I shake my head. “No. You can stay for a little bit. But you have to be quiet. I can’t risk my parents hearing you.”

He motions zipping his lips and I can’t help but laugh.

“Okay then,” I sit on my bed, patting the spot next to me. “Show me the photo.”

I’m still reminiscing on that night when my window slides open and his soft footsteps hit the floor. “Coast clear?” he whispers, closing the window behind him.

I nod. “You’re good, bub.”

“Good. Now I can cuddle you.”

“Yeah, I just need to change first.”

“You can change in front of me,” he wiggles his eyebrows, but he knows it’s a long shot.

“Good one,” I say, taking one of his hoodies that I like to sleep in sometimes and a pair of shorts. “I’ll be right back.”

He sighs softly, taking his shoes off and placing them next to my bedside table.

“Oh, and the shorts you left here last week? They’re in that drawer next to you. So you’re not sleeping in your jeans.”

Connor smiles softly, “You take good care of me.”

I roll my eyes, “Yeah, okay.” I say back before opening my bedroom door and slipping out and to the bathroom.

We don’t say much of anything when I get back to the room and turn out the light. I slide myself into bed and he curls around me, his head in the crook of my neck, his steady breathing aiding in lulling me to a peaceful slumber. However, my brain is painfully aware that this is one of the last nights that this will be like this. Because in only a few days he’ll be off at college, in a new room, far enough away from me and that’s still such a terrifying thought because we still haven’t talked about what’s going to happen when he’s gone.

We should have.

---

I close his passenger side door after putting his backpack in the seat and walk around to the back where he’s stuffing in his last box. I’m not going with him to get moved in. It’d be too hard, we decided. So I’m seeing him off here, in his driveway.

He closes the trunk and turns to face me with a deep sigh. “That’s the last of it.”

I nod, willing myself not to cry yet. I can cry when he’s gone, but I refused to do it while he was still right here in front of me. We stand there for a minute, just staring at each other before he takes my hand and pulls me into his chest. I cling to him, scrunching up his shirt at his shoulder blades.

He holds me tighter as I breathe in his scent that now smelt like home. My eyes start to water and I cling to him even more. He kisses the top of my head repeatedly. “Don’t want to let you go yet,” I mumble into his shirt.

“Me neither,” he whispers. “But we’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna call you and text you and FaceTime you so much. It’s not gonna be as bad as you think. And I’m still close enough that I could come home for the weekends or something.”

I nod, sniffling. “No, I know. I just… how am I gonna get my Connor cuddles during the week?” I choke on a sob as he pulls me impossibly closer.

He runs his fingers through my hair and kisses my forehead. “You’re gonna call me and we’ll figure it out, okay?”

I pull away, wiping at my tears with a scoff. “It’s not gonna be the same.”

He nods, wiping away more of my tears. “I have something for you.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he lets go of me, even though I really don’t want to release him quite yet. Connor walks over to his passenger side and unzips his backpack, pulling out a teddy bear. He holds it out to me sheepishly. He chuckles, “I know it’s not much. And it definitely can’t give you kisses, but maybe, on those nights when you’re missing me a little bit, you can cuddle your bear,” he clears his throat, handing me the bear. “I uh, I even sprayed it with my cologne, just to ensure that you know I’m still here. A hundred plus miles isn’t gonna keep me from you. Okay?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and squeeze the bear to my chest, choking back a sob. “You should get going. Don’t want to hit traffic, right?”

“I love you, kid. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” I swallow thickly. “I love you more. Please be safe.”

“Always safe. Gotta come back to you, can’t afford not to be.”

He leaves me with one more deep kiss before getting into the driver’s seat. I watch, clinging to the bear that smells just like home, as he drives off. I stand there in his driveway until I’ve pulled myself together, and once I have, I get in my car and drive back home. But it feels so different. And even more so when nighttime comes and I’m doing my nightly routine, and I come back to my room and make sure my window is unlocked.

And when I slip into bed and keep my lamp on, like I do every night anticipating Connor’s arrival. But after ten minutes laying with my back to the window, I’m reminded that he’s not coming tonight.

And he’s not coming tomorrow.

Or the next day.

***

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Connor tag: @gangofhoes @verlaneswiftie13

[supporthosechi]

Reflecting on our 5th visit to see Alisha.

Perhaps this is the difficult center now.  The span when the drive down doesn’t seem so long, and we know the highway exit names, when we inadvertently make the same stops on the way down, and deliberately on the way back.  We do not need to bring any particular agendas to see Alisha, and there are no updates directly related to her case which would bring any particular solace, just the same resounding unfinished finality of the lawyers: don’t call us, we’ll call you.  They do not like to lose, sure, and they like good press, of course, but they also do not like to waste their time on menial concerns like the well-being of their clients or the campaign to release her.  We could tell her about the horrors and casualties of the continuing war against those who participate in the same vocation she did a few years ago, the one that nearly got her killed and for which the state continues to try to drain her vitality by inches.  We can always update her on our lives, or talk about her family.  Discussing what the other side of the razor wire and brick, away from the glacial, witless, unfeeling monsters who personify the banality of evil and keep vigil over her every move here is more enjoyable when it is a dream of what we will all do together.  So we, my other component part and I, can ride down without concern over how we will pass the hours.  That is not the difficult part.

The longest timing nightmare yet, which delays us multiple hours and is frustrating beyond any simple expression, is not really the difficult part either.  There is little they can do at this point in service of keeping us from our LeLe which surprises me, though perhaps the guard who watched as I inverted my shoes and who smoothed my pants over my inner thighs actually caught a piece of my gritted teeth in his eye.  Maybe he’ll go home wondering what the overdressed white boy was so pissed off about, and experience the dawning realization that he participates directly in an industry which destroys his own people, is in fact fueled by making them into criminals, defining them as such, and throw himself in anguish off the roof of his apartment building.  Perhaps unlikely, but I’ll grit my teeth and cast fire out of my eyes directly into his just the same.  I don’t think I could take him, so at best he’d have a broken nose, I’d be beat within an inch of my life and meet him again in court.  The defense of “resisting institutional racism” coming out of my counsel’s mouth, while satisfying and accurate, is improbable.

So part of the difficulty is Alisha herself: effusive, truly interested in my life the same way I happened to take an interest in hers those months ago, and, for want of a better term because it remains nearly unthinkable to me how she remains so: alive.  Our time with her has been shaved to the very quick, it is as much as I can do to hop up and get some palatable food for her and exchange a few laughs before we’re forced back out of the door and to the car.  

I am writing this reflection on December 17th, which is at once fitting and at the same truly dispiriting.  How many other industries require a day to end violence against them?  How many other lines of work require so much skill and emotional labor, harm no one, in fact help many, and face the sort of stigma, censure, harassment, and threat of physical danger as this one?  I would actually prefer if my mental inventorying could yield even one, so that I might consider how its lessons would benefit my friends, loved ones, and those more distant with whom I stand in solidarity, sadness, anger, and, ultimately, resolve.  But I do not think another such industry exists.  So each next embrace with my adopted little sister gets a little longer, and a measure more difficult to detach.  I could say I would sit in those small, dirty rooms and eat that rotten food, stare at the painted brick walls and seethe at my captors who will go home to their miserable-but-technically-free lives after ending watch over my expansive-but-confined existence, but LeLe would never allow that even if it were possible.  So what exactly grows more difficult, if not the ride down, the red tape and the despicable congeniality or dismissiveness of the COs, the conditions I observe someone I care about trapped in, the unjust and almost surreal reasons they are there…?

It’s the ride home.  It is looking in the rearview and not seeing Alisha in the back seat, flipping her hair out of her face and cackling with laughter, raising up her mouth in a playful pout or her eyebrows in a serious “you know I’m not messing around with that” expression of disbelief.  It’s when her voice doesn’t echo in my ears anymore as I turn the key and return to all my own troubles and obstacles, minor triumphs and great joys, earnest attempts to make the world into which Alisha will someday be re-delivered even an iota better, and occasional realization that though it will remain in many ways awful, it will certainly benefit from her presence therein.  Because right now her most active existence outside is in the thoughts and transmitted words of her friends and family.  And I am sick to the back teeth of having to dream about someone as if they’re dead or, closer to the current case, unborn, when I know damn well they’re in a small room, in a place that shouldn’t exist, for reasons that never made sense to begin with.  It’s the vacant back seat that gapes back at me for being too much of a coward to break my sister out, or at least too impecunious and lacking the influence to hasten her release.  It’s where Alisha isn’t that is the difficult part now, and it gnaws at me.

We stood in small circle tonight, the sex workers and I, in Transmitter Park off Greenpoint Avenue, in Brooklyn, by the water.  We wore a lot of black and some red, because we were attending a vigil and a remembrance.  As such, we were sad, but it was important to show one another we were strong as well.  We told stories of workers we had lost, either to death, the state, the medical industry, or to time.  There were three candles in red glass in the middle of our circle, and Manhattan observed us from across the water with its millions of people, and I felt small, as one does and is meant to in the city.  I could not help but think about how the water on the other side of the island held Marsha, and how Sylvia had lived along its shore for a dark interval.  These people, in this circle, were and are not desperate, and they neither required nor rejected my shared sorrow and genuine care.  We heard Alisha’s poem and we held each other, literally and figuratively, because there wasn’t anything else to do.  We all held our own candles, and we trembled from the shared weight and the cold, but we did not bow.  I stared hard at the candles before we processed away, perhaps because I am frustrated when something seems so dearly to require explanation, even when the explanations are so well-rehearsed and unmysterious, and so it is pointless to explain.  I am frustrated by pointlessness, and unwarranted death.

For the moment, though, I’ve had entirely enough of my time without Alisha being free, and, though I know it is no proxy, for all sex workers being free, from incarceration and the cloud of impending potential harm hanging over them.  I’m so lucky to have and have had you workers in my life, up close and from afar.  I miss you, LeLe.

-AH