#what does he need those juicy cherry lips for? to kiss men???
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I got bored while drawing. WIP. 😭💀
#awoooooo 🐺🐺🐺 I'm going alpha mode!#whose Discord wolfboy is this???#what does he need those juicy cherry lips for? to kiss men???#WHY AM I ACTUALLY KINDA GOOD AT DRAWING THIS MF#he looks lowkey cute here. for a criminal and a horrible person.#yucky him!#my art#Burzum#Varg Vikernes#black metal#I'm not sorry. not really 😁
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Jimin from Hollister (pjm)
The first time Jimin saw you was at his old job at Hollister. It was a quiet Monday, and the blond had a hangover throbbing in his temples, pills, and several empty water bottles next to the cashier waiting for someone to enter. His co-worker was on break, and the store was all to himself, which meant one thing: he was in charge of the music.
Give It Up To Me by Sean Paul echoed in his poor ears as he walked among the T-shirts arranged on the hangers, running his hands over the cotton. His head moved along with the bass. Even though the hangover was deteriorating him, he couldn't miss the moments when could play music for him.
Walking down the men's jeans aisle, there you were: the shortest skirt he's ever seen, a coat that hugged your tits deliciously, and the most delicate earring dangling from your navel. You looked at the pants, moving your waist slightly, looking at the prices. Jimin wanted to reach out slowly, grab the belt loops of your mini skirt, and move you gently, pressing his now hard-on on you.
"How come I haven't seen you here before, doll?" He said, getting closer to your ear.
You opened your eyes, and the boy in front of you was chewing gum and wearing a white T-shirt, a small metal ball in the center of his tongue. 'Hello, my name is Jimin,' read a small card on his exercised chest. You smiled.
"What did you say?"
"I asked if you need help," Jimin spoke louder, once again having an excuse to get a little closer.
"Will you do it?"
The bubble Jimin was making exploded in his mouth when you dared to look him up and down. He nodded, a smile appearing on his features.
"I need a gift for my boyfriend."
Boyfriend? No surprise, you were a little piece of molded heaven. It's not like he cared, either. Jimin knew that he could take what he wanted, he had done it before and had no regrets.
"What does your boyfriend do?"
"He's a law student."
"Boring."
Surprised by his bold response you could only laugh with him. You hadn't realized but his body was so close to you that you didn't need to shout over the music.
"Is this part of your job?" You asked.
"What?"
"Giving opinions about customers."
"If I'm interested, yes." His responses were quick, he grabbed the gum from his mouth and threw it down a hallway. "Now, where do you work? Juicy or Spencer's"
"I study." You responded.
"Interesting, smart girl. I haven't been with one of those before."
"My friend warned me about Hollister employees." You mumbled, earning a chuckle from Jimin.
"And what do you think of them now?"
You liked what you saw, a lot.
Your boyfriend was a sweetheart, seriously. But he was so stupid, thought he could change the way you dressed, how you put on makeup, or who you went out with. Like you were a project or something.
Jimin from Hollister, though, was ogling you. Eating you. His eyes staring at your waist uncensored, Daddy Yankee's 'Impacto' was ringing in your ears, and the lights were low enough to make you feel like having a little fun.
You raised your hand and Jimin took it without a second thought. You turned around and approached his baggy jeans. Jimin bent over until his head was resting on your shoulder, both of you moving with the music, his hands guiding your waist with agility.
The smell of strawberry perfume had Jimin on the verge of kissing your neck, your delicate hair, and the pink lipstick. You were like those Barbies his sister played with.
You turned around again, still moving. Jimin lowered his eyes to where you both pressed. He could see your nipples standing up and prayed they were pierced, too. His tongue passed over his lips just thinking about it.
Your diamond belt falling apart on his fingers without him realizing it out of nowhere.
"Like that, baby, slow. Let me see you." He whispered as your waist began to move slower.
You hissed as both of his hands squeezed your ass, you saw him bite his lip before moving closer to you.
"What flavor is the lipstick?"
"Cherry." You laughed as he pulled you closer. His sly smile had you melting.
"Will your little boyfriend mind if I try it?"
You denied and he wasted no time. His quick footsteps pushed you into a changing room, your back arching at the chill of the mirror behind you. His hands went to your hair, roughening it and undoing your high ponytail. Your Juicy glasses fall to the floor next to your pink bag.
"Won't he mind if I use you either?"
His hand guided you until you had your face resting on the mirror, you moaned as you felt your thong break on his fingers as if they were made of paper.
The rings on his fingers marked your skin as he squeezed the soft, inviting skin on your ass.
"You have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen in this store."
That made you blush, the juice falling to your thighs. You loved being told how pretty you looked, how adorable your tits were in that top, how long your legs could be in your favorite shorts, how you were prettier with cum on your face. What a shame you had to look for your boyfriend's friends and other men to tell you.
Jimin licked his hand with his pierced tongue and rubbed the tip of his cock, red and ready. The sting of feeling his thick member wanting to enter your tight pussy made you see stars, your legs failing.
"No, no, princess. Don't fall yet. Come, I'll hold you." The murmurs were tender as he grabbed your hair tightly and his forearm under your belly.
"B-big, too big."
"I know, sugar, I know. Just take it like a good little slut."
Penetrating completely, Jimin hissed, letting his skillful hips touch that spot inside you to make you wetter.
"You look like a bitch in heat, princess. Has it been long since you felt like this?" He cooed, leaving pecks on your cheeks and neck.
"You have no idea," You whimpered, creating a mist in your reflection with each moan.
"You had to come with a stranger to put it deep inside you, make you a mess," Jimin growled, grabbing your hands above your head, your manicured nails searching for something to clutch. You felt like you were going to explode with every crash against your ass.
Jimin wanted to leave you without panties and let your pussy spill his milk while you walked through the mall that afternoon. That you thought of him every time the inside of your thighs felt slippery.
When he came, he was so hard with your poor little body that he marked the sides of your meaty thighs so you wouldn't move, his cock throbbing and pumping cum until you were overflowing.
"Oh, fuck me. Fuck you, God, this pussy-mm" He mumbled incoherently.
Your used doll face was so sweet, with your drooping eyelashes and your mouth red and swollen from biting it so much. So heavenly.
Jimin zipped up his jeans, fixed his hair in the reflection next to you, and kissed your neck. Your Fliphone vibrated in your coat pocket, and he grabbed it.
"Yes? Yes, this is her phone. I mean...she's a little busy in the fitting room. My name? Jimin." Jimin frowned as the call closed. "Your boyfriend is not very happy. You lied to me, I think he does mind that I used you a little."
You tried to get up but were still weak. The information Jimin told you didn't faze you, your dad would probably get mad, but you didn't care.
"Come tomorrow at five, I'll buy you another one of those thongs if you're good. Yes?"
You nodded and received another grateful kiss. This time soft, sweet, a see you later.
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If you want to read more about this couple here is another drabble about them ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ and ꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡
#bts imagines#jimin imagine#jimin smut#bts#bts fanfic#jimin x reader#jimin fanfic#park jimin#jimin x you#bimbocore#bts smut#tumblr#y2k minnie✧*。#bimbo bunny.。*♡
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Pack Tactics (Werewolf x Reader)
Pairing: Fem!Reader/Male!Werewolf
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Established Couple, Angst with a happy ending
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2896 words
Summary: You are in a wonderful relationship with your sweet partner, Gray. But this far into the relationship, you’ve yet to tell him you have no intentions ever of having kids. You can’t help but wonder, how will your child-loving werewolf boyfriend will react?
Request: I live for very specific comfort! No pressure if this doesn’t inspire you or if you just don’t want to write it obvi.... but could I have a f!reader x m!werewolf where the reader is 100% sure she doesn’t want to have kids ever never ever in any capacity and is worried about how her werewolf bf is going to react, worried she’ll be dumped or something (ya know cause idk I feel like werewolves are built with a breeding kink and like into the whole having a lot of pups) there can be smut if you want!! I love me some dramatic angst comfort :)))))))
A/N: Sorry this took so long y’all, school and stuff has been kicking my ass. But writing this sweet little fic has been a nice reprieve from my work. Hope you enjoy!
“Alright, I’ll get the chicken, the asparagus, and the pasta. You’ve got the wine and the dessert?”
“Sure thing.”
The two of you nod, Gray stepping away from the grocery cart before you call out to him.
“And not one of those huge tubs of ice cream.”
Gray emits a dramatic whine, pouting.
“But the big one is 25 cents cheaper than those little pints. It’s practically free!”
You furrow your brow and pat him on the shoulder.
“Not if we don’t finish them, they aren’t. Now go.” Gray rolls his eyes, clutching his heart and throwing his head back. You playfully push him, walking away with the grocery cart and towards the deli section. You can see the top of Gray’s wild brown hair as he moves into the next aisle, his 6’5” form towering over all the little old ladies who usually crowd the store.
You’re browsing the chicken, trying to decide between 2 breasts or a full rotisserie, when a familiar sound reaches you.
“Oh! If it isn’t ____.” You forcibly paint a smile, fingers automatically clenched around the stellafoam package as you turn to see your next door neighbor Mrs. Star. Her teased, bleached blonde hair teeters on top of her head, bobbing back and forth with the clack of her neon blue heels. While you can respect the 60-year old for digging her feet in and refusing to update her wardrobe from the 80’s, her pension for gossip is a little less admirable. “Shocked to see you out and about, what with that big ol boyfriend of yours.” She says, blue eyeshadow crinkling into a wink and nudging you with your elbow. You wheeze a bit, quickly covering it with a laugh. “Back in our honeymoon phase, Richard and I barely left the bedroom. And he was half-way balding back then, not the babe-a-rama you got going over there.” Mrs. Star’s laugh reaches a pitch almost too high for your human ears to pick up, maybe even giving Gray 2 aisles over a headache.
“Well, y’know, gotta keep our energy up.” You wince, immediately berating yourself for that comment. Mrs. Star throws her hand up in a “oh, you” gesture, letting out another half-whistle half-screeching chuckle.
“Oh I do, honey, I do.” She sends you another dramatic wink, which you return with a shaky smile. The corner of your cart bumps into hers as you begin walking along the meat aisle, trying to forcibly end this interaction. But Mrs. Star pulls off an impressive turn with her cart and strolls alongside you. She does little to hide her wandering eyes, trying to piece together any juicy info from your groceries. “So, are you two trying for kids yet?”
The wheels squeal to a sudden stop, forcing you to choke on your saliva as the shopping cart’s handle digs into your stomach. You keep your gaze locked on the frozen steaks and turkeys, already way past the chicken you meant to grab.
“Uhhh, no. We’re not really in the phase of our relationship yet.”
Mrs. Star clicks her tongue, pressing her hand to her chest in a show of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, dearie. Old habits you see, whenever a new couple moves in together I assume they’re halfway to the wedding already. You young kids like to take it slow, huh?”
You nod, hastily grabbing a package of buffalo wings, hoping for an excuse to escape this conversation.
Mrs. Star continues to walk by you, her cart blocking off any convenient means to leave unless you significantly pick up her speed. Her eyes glance over the sweats sat in a display in the center of the aisle, humming a small tune.
The end of the aisle is approaching, you’re almost home free! You ready your feet to book it with an excuse, but Mrs. Star clears her throat and begins to speak.
“Now dearie, I don’t mean to pry-”
What do you call these last 3 minutes, Star?
“But I’d at least pop on a ring on that finger soon. Someday someone’s going to snatch that boy up like a piece of meat, saying all the right things. Men got all those suspicions about over-the-hill pregnancies, his eyes might start wandering. That’s how my first divorce went, so I should know.”
You pull your cart to a stop, breathe catching as you look at Mrs. Star, shocked. You can handle some inappropriate questions, but to question your boyfriend’s loyalty and insulting your relationship is crossing another line. Your brows furrow with a simmering anger, your cheeks heating up as you're ready to let loose.
“Well, Mrs. Star, if you must know I have the most wonderful boyfriend on this side of the planet, and unlike your deadbeat first husband, he’s as loyal as they can be.” Mrs. Star looks at you, eyes widened and right hand halfway to grab a pack of oreos. You huff, pushing your cart away from hers and towards the cash register. Right before you leave her sight, you turn back to her with a simpering smirk. “Have a great day, Mrs. Star!”
Your heart is heaving with anger, prepping a rant to Gray about the horrible interaction you just had. On the other side of the store, you spot Gray, his curly hair all tussled, holding a large Rosé and a package of ice cream sandwiches. Just the sight of his back calms you a bit, excited for some delicious food and late-night cuddles. You jog a little towards him, but slow down when you see him crouch down, looking at something hidden from your sight.
You turn your shopping cart slightly, trying to peer behind his massive form, and freeze.
Gray’s sticking out his tongue, pushing up his nose, and making many more silly gestures to a baby in a stroller. The baby laughs, it’s chubby cheeks bright red as Gray blows another raspberry, thrashing its arms up and down with joy. The dad is laughing at Gray’s antics, leaning down and patting his kid on the head.
Gray promptly stands up, sending another big smile to the kid, before waving goodbye. The six-month-old waves back, uncoordinated and decidedly adorable. Gray laughs, turning away and walking towards you.
Your feet feel cemented to the floor, heart down in your stomach.
He’s a natural, you think, nausea building up in your throat.
Gray was the oldest of eight, not a large number for a werewolf family. You adored them, and they you, but Gray had a way of dealing with his youngest siblings. Whether it was letting them climb all over him like a jungle gym, or attending imaginary tea parties, Gray was a pro. He was the guy to cram himself into a tiny chair at the kids table, eating tiny cookies and cracking jokes. ‘Dad’ seemed to be stamped into his very being, the cuddly werewolf with a love of children. He’s any mother-in-law’s dream.
But all those sweet things turn sour when you think about what Mrs. Star said. Gray, moving on without you.
Gray’s eyes light up when he sees your cart, jogging over and holding up the bottle of wine like a prize.
“Hey!” He says, quickly sliding an arm around your waist and giving you a peck on the cheek. “I got your favorite, and those delicious mint-chocolate sandwiches.”
His happy voice and comforting touch help abate whatever it is your feeling, but the way Gray’s brow furrows tells you your discomfort is present in your eyes. “Is everything okay?” His large hand comes up and rubs your shoulder. You give him a shaky smile, fighting away negative thoughts with a bat.
“Yeah, let’s go home.”
---------
Wet fur presses up against your bare neck as you lazily stir the boiling water, Gray’s shifted muzzle now snug in the crook of your shoulder, the white flecks across his dark fur peeking into your periphery. Your free hand instinctively goes back to scratch between his ears, causing him to let out a satisfied huff, hot air blowing across your chest.
“That smells good baby.”
“It’s just salt and water Gray. The pasta’s barely al dente.”
Gray laughs, turning his head slightly so he can press a small kiss onto your cheek.
“You could make even that taste delicious, ____”
You dramatically roll your eyes, pushing away his chin as he continues to peck and nip at your neck. After showering Gray always made sure to rub in some cherry-blossom leave-in conditioner into his fur. The artificial perfumes just lightly touch your senses, but the mental connection they have to Gray make them smell that much sweeter. You turn and give him a quick kiss on the lips, patting his shoulder once more.
“Do you mind setting the table? Maybe get started on those messy dishes?”
“No problem.” Gray mumbles, reluctantly pulling away from you and tugging up the towel that hangs loose on his hips. He barely needs to reach for your fancy plates on the top shelf, his chest muscles flexing and bicep taut. Even with his thick fur, you can see the bone of his clavicle which accentuates his long neck.
God, he’s so hot.
You think, smirking a bit as you continue stirring.
And all mine.
You hum, but the cheery mood you’re in quickly sours once you remember your conversation with Mrs. Star. That small seed of doubt seems to grow and leech from your chest.
2 years into this relationship and the two of you have only danced around the conversation of the future. You of course had agreed on living together, what your career paths looked like, even the potential of getting married in a couple years, but never kids. As two 20-somethings, you felt like you had all the time in the world.
But the thing was, you didn’t really need all the time in the world.
You didn't want kids. Even with your family or your neighbors needing that your opinion “might change some day,” you were confident in that decision. Not that you hated them, you just could never picture yourself being a mom. A fun aunt, maybe, but never a mom. It wasn’t even a point of contention in your own mind; The picture of you, your partner, and maybe a couple of pets thriving into your elders was bliss enough.
You sneak a glance to Gray, now clothed and back turned to you as he sets the table. He’s diligently folding the napkins into fun shapes, a ritual he does every date night. From the hole in his jeans you can see his tail wagging, content as he hums to the low radio playing on the window sill.
A smile crawls onto your face, a small giggle escaping you as you watch Gray’s hips bob to the beat, silently mouthing the words. You snort as he does a dramatic little shoulder shift, Gray’s head whipping back towards the kitchen as you throw your hand over your mouth.
“What, don't you like my moves?” Gray says, shimmering his shoulders again, a large grin across his face.
“They could use some work, Kevin Bacon.” Gray clutches his chest, throwing his head back in mock pain.
“You wound me. After all these years, you would cut me so deep?”
“Sure would.” You turn back towards the simmering pasta, setting the wooden spoon on the rim and brushing your hands on your jeans. “Oof!” You squeak as you yanked away, Gray wrapping his arms around your waist, twirling you in a stumbling circle.
“And how ‘bout now, m’lady?” Gray simpers, eyebrow cocked. Your hands slap his chest as you laugh. He lets your feet back down on the floor, but keeps his arms locked around your waist. The two of you slow dance to the beat, and when the chorus hits, Gray gives his worst rendition possible. You bemoan and feign plugging your ears, but find yourself singing along anyway.
Everything about Gray is warm and bright, from his goofy grin to his excitable tail to his two left feet. He adds that pep of energy to your daily routine, pulling you out of an exhausting cycle for a quick jog to the beach or an episode of your favorite drama. Gray fills out all of those little spaces, makes them a little less gray.
Your head rests against his chest, feeling the fur through the fabric of his t-shirt as the two of you sway back and forth.
You want it to stay this way.
But that pestering weed squeezes your heart again, forcing images of Gray with a kid on his shoulders. Showing up to little-league football games with a big cooler and a “#1 dad” T-shirt. All those little moments, all without you.
You can’t fight the deep sigh, pressing your face even deeper into Gray.
Just let me have this. Just this moment, just for now.
-------
“Ugh, I think my stomach is going to explode from excess-pasta.”
Gray huffs, laying his head on your lap as the two of you slump onto the couch. His tail wags lazily, flickering back and forth as his legs swing over the coach's side, his long torso bunched up as he curls into you. The fur of his head is soft as you twist your fingers into it. “But I gotta say, what a way to go out.”
You giggle, losing your thoughts in his soft fur. Gray lets out another deep breath, nuzzling his face into your hand. You brush over his cheek with your thumb, admiring the cheekbone you feel just underneath.
But that burning question refuses to leave your mind, and you ask it without even thinking.
“Do you want kids, Gray?”
Gray’s eye’s stay closes, his posture relaxed as he sinks into your massaging fingers.
“Hmmm, maybe. Never really thought too much about it. Why?”
Your throat dries up, mind reeling. It wasn’t even a definitive yes, but your heart is still reeling. Your fingers pause and Gray's eyes open. He shifts his head when he sees the look on your face, concerned. “Babe?”
You nod, eyes still wide, trying to fight off the inklings of a panic attack. Gray pushes himself up on his elbows, paw quickly coming to caress your cheek. “Baby, is everything alright?”
You find the energy to breathe, and suck in deeply. Your heart begins to slow down as you look into Gray’s yellow wolf eyes. You dig your cheek into his large palm, smelling the perfume of his conditioner.
“Yes, sorry, I just-” You pause, taking another deep breath. “I ran into Mrs. Star in the grocery store, and-I’m sorry I’m overthinking things.” You mutter, patting yourself on the cheek as to snap yourself out of your mood. Grays other hand rubs the back of your neck.
“It’s okay, baby, I’m here. Did she say something?”
“No-Well, yes. It’s silly, typical Star things. She just brought up how ‘ought to get started having kids, and it just-” You let out a shaky sigh, pulling away Gray’s hand with your own and looking him straight in the eye. “I don’t want to have kids, ever.”
In Gray’s eyes, you expect to….something. Confusion, disappointment, maybe? But instead, all you see is relief. Gray rests his paw on your thigh, squeezing it.
“_____, is that what you’ve been worrying about?” You nod, throwing your eyes back down, but Gray tilts your chin towards him. “If you don’t want kids, we won’t have kids. Simple as that.”
Your eyes widen and you pull your face back.
“Seriously? But-what if-”
“____, I grew up with eight siblings. I’m going to have to deal with more nieces and nephews then I can count on my fingers and my toes, I think I can handle not having kids.”
A weight lifts off of your chest and you slump forward into Gray, pressing your forehead against his clavicles as you let out a long, relieved sigh. He laughs, patting your back and kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry you had to deal with this all day, I didn’t even realize you were so upset.”
You slap his chest, letting out another frustrated sigh. With him? No, but yourself, and Mrs. Star, for stirring up nightmares for no damn good reason.
“It’s not your fault, it’s mine for being so paranoid.” You press your chin up, pouty lips admiring your boyfriend's face. “I’m sorry for freaking out. She really got me into my own head.”
“No apologies needed baby.” Gray says, giving you a small peck. You send him a cheesy smile, chasing after his lips with a couple of small kisses. A low rumble growls out from his chest as you nip at his jawline. Behind him, you hear his tail begin to hump on the floor.
“Hmm, does that mean you feel better?” You nod, pressing another kiss into his pulse point.
“Yes, thank you for letting me get that out.” Another kiss, now on his Adam’s apple.
“Welp,” Gray says, quickly adjusting himself. In another second, you yelp as he picks you up by your butt, legs quickly wrapping around his waist, “Let’s give Mrs. Star something to talk about, hmm?”
You throw your head back with a laugh, clinging tight to his chest as Gray blows a raspberry into your neck. “That good with you, my lady?”
You nod, giving him another kiss on the lips as he carries you off into the bedroom.
Yeah, you have it good.
#monster romance#monster x reader#reader insert#female reader insert#female reader#werewolf x reader#my writing
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I have been thinking about Bang Chan and his body. Bless the stylists who put him in sleeveless shirts all the time. Those big arms are the death of me 😩 And to think he thinks he is not buff enough or something smh.
He needs some good body worshiping. I don’t think he would initially be into the idea of subbing but he would think about it and one day he would awkwardly dance around the topic until you get what he wants. Blindfold and / or tie him up, kiss all over his body and praise him. He will be embarrassed but really enjoy it. Either he will become very needy and ask for you to give him more or he will be so relaxed that he just falls asleep.
PERIOD. He is so fucking stunning and sexy, with that ripped body, that beautiful smile and juicy lips, not to mention the personality that's the cherry on top. He is one of the most attractive men I've seen and it hurts to know he can't see it. He does deserve to be praised, worshipped. Get his body kissed and caressed all over, tell him how wonderful and perfect he is. He deserves to be touched with love. I love Bang Chan. I wish he knew how all of us would do anything to have him.
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Wow, Dustin, another Armiin and Leandro ( @lamb-like-lion)story? When will you stop? Never. Hi I’m super embarrassed about this but WHATEVER.
“What’s the--the occasion?”
Mirth fills the Hunter’s voice as tainted hues flicker their attention, peering down at the various paper bags touched together atop the dining table; neither one quite overflowed, whatever was packed within still a mystery. Armiin raises on his toes, attempting to get a peak around Leandro as he went about digging through his purchases, the sounds of crinkling paper filling the kitchen. Leandro peers over his shoulder, an almost sheepish smile settled to the corner of his lips as shoulders hike and shrug with his own uncertainty.
“I might have gotten a little carried away.”
The San’layn admits with a nervous twinge to his tone, diligently going about emptying the bags and pulling out what he’d brought home; the usual canned and boxed foods Armiin lived off of that they were running low on, though, an unusual amount of perishables. Both men knew such treats would only go rotten within their home, and yet, it seemed someone couldn’t stop himself when eyeing all the old tastes he used to adore. Berries within a weaved container mixed with slices of apples, fresh, still warm breads safely hidden away in their own paper sleeves, and even a few, sweet smelling deserts wrapped up in cloth that is pulled from the last bag. A mixture of other assorted foods are hidden within the bunch, mostly cold, still raw meats that are being tucked away into the freezer to keep, along with Leandro’s own supply of blood that secures its own section of the fridge to chill.
Armiin stands, watching curiously as the papered bags are folded up and tucked to their own corner of the counter top, his partner then sauntering back to the table and both men are locking eyes. The Hunter’s lips press to a thin line, a glance to the various food items, then back up again to his beloved that only offers yet another waning grin and a fold back of shorter ears.
“I fear most of this is go-going to go b-bad.”
He finds himself sounding guilty, knowing that Leandro had the best intention in mind, but also knowing, that he was the only one in the home to even be able to taste the items. There’s a quick moment of silence between the pair, contemplating the situation at hand, and all while Armiin finds himself lost in thought, the sound of chair legs dragging against the cold flooring brings him back to reality. Lashes flutter with a handful of rapid blinks, noticing then that Leandro had sat himself at the table, and an arm is stretched along the width of the wood to motion at the chair opposite from him. A subtle tilt of his head and Armiin’s lips purse, jagged teeth pulling against his lower lip before complying and settling in the seat across from the elven blond.
Silence within the household wasn’t uncommon, it was comforting, actually, so when Leandro goes about unwrapping the goods with diligent fingers, his love is captivated with merely watching and gazing across the tabletop. All day could the raven haired man find himself captured by the beautiful glimmer of those rare blue eyes, so much so that when something cold touches his lips Armiin just about jumps out of his skin. The table gives a noticeable shift and his chair creaks with the sudden movement, a soft, kindhearted yet amused bout of laughter heard from who it was that touched his lips.
“Sorry--I didn’t mean to startle you. Can you open your mouth?”
A dark brow raises, ever curious, though eventually his questions are answered when following that request, pale lips parted and teeth apart, the cold air in his mouth soon replaced with something smooth and sweet. Teeth clamp, removing the treat from its stem before able to properly taste, and soon, he’s knowing of what it is. Cherry. There wasn’t a pit, either, so never was there the worry of biting in too hastily.
“How’s it taste?”
Leandro questions, another piece of fruit already in his fingers and stretched forward, and as soon as Armiin swallows, the second cherry is offered. Graciously does the Hunter accept, sinking teeth into the uncommon treat; ever thankful now that Leandro had been so generous.
“It’s...sweet, and fresh, a li-little tart. No--no pits, either.”
A smile is shared, and then another cherry, and it becomes almost like clockwork where Armiin would taste, and Leandro would ask about the sensation and texture. Though, soon enough, something else replaces the crimson fruit, and instead a crunchy slice of an apple is bitten into. The Hunter hums in delight, his very favorite snack accepted with all the gratitude he could muster, and without Leandro even needing to ask, he speaks.
“Sw-sweet and juicy, ve-very fresh. Crunchy.”
Lips curl into a devilish smirk along the San’layn’s features, pleased to see his partner enjoying himself so. In between bites of apple Leandro sneaks in a few raspberries and blueberries, finding Armiin pleasantly surprised each time with the sudden change in texture.
A few minutes pass, Leandro gingerly feeding Armiin who did so without any complaint, enjoying the rare time to indulge in something other than roasted meats and canned vegetables. That little basket of fruits is slowly but surely emptied, and the man of corruption is lapping at the points of gnarled teeth, another soft hum of delight rumbling deep within his chest.
“--Good?”
The Darkfallen questions softly, fingertips trailing across the table to seek a pale hand to curl with, the Hunter nodding then in return with a sheepish smile all of his own.
“Very. I--I didn’t even know these were in--in season.”
His observation is met with another chime of laughter, Leandro nearly flushed with the joy that settled in his chest, sharing something as seemingly mundane as treats with his Husband, despite not being able to try them himself. It made things feel just a little bit more normal.
Armiin is expected to stand then, to help Leandro tuck away the remaining perishables, though, before he can even make the motion to stand, there’s a soft tuft of bread that’s being offered his direction. Eyes shift, blink, and shoulders slowly fall back to relaxation as he settles, leaning forward just enough to catch the baked good between his teeth. The San’layn is nit-picky now, refusing to tear away the hard crust and instead, picking out only the fluff to offer his loved, and Armiin has no complaints about it.
Now, he found it more difficult to describe the taste--it was bread, what was there to say? Yet, his partner seems to have no qualms, no longer asking the previous questions and simply feeding the Hunter bit by bit. It feels a bit silly, leaning over the tabletop to steal food from his husband’s fingers, yet, something about it was almost...flattering.
It takes longer now to finish off the given pieces, and even while the crust was discarded, it didn’t exactly make roll small. The pair chats idly, exchanging stories of the day, and in between, teeth take pieces, and every so often, lips press kisses to chilled fingertips. The time passed is forgotten about, but eventually, there’s only a pile of bread hunks with most of the soft insides picked out. Armiin exhales, leaning back in his seat with a small stretch, a sudden exhaustion washing over thanks to the full feeling in his stomach.
“This is m-much better th-than canned so-soup.”
Armiin jests, leaning forward then with arms crossed and rested to the table; sure, fruits and breads weren’t your typical ‘meal’, but, it sure was satisfying. There’s a softness exchanged between lovers, and Leandro’s palms are pressed against the table to lean himself over, seeking a pair of scarred lips to steal a kiss from.
“I bet you taste good.”
The words are exhaled into that kiss, and in that same instant do pale cheeks flare with undertones of crimson and gray, laughter bubbled and swallowed down when their lips part. Leandro sits back with a triumphant grin, and Armiin begins wiping at his face in fear that crumbs may have stuck; but luckily, there were none.
Settling back to his seat, the lithe man gives a slight lean back forward, eyeing Leandro as he goes about tugging over those wrapped pastries; and suddenly, Armiin’s eyes were feeling far larger than his stomach. A palm instinctively drops from the table to hover over his middle, brushing up the hemming of his shirt to trail over the scarred flesh that was somewhat taut; full already from the simple foods. Though, it was difficult to reject Leandro when he’s lifting the plastic fork that came with the goodies, digging the pronged ends into a slice of rich, chocolate cake; the darkly baked piece being lifted up with a hand beneath, being sure no crumbs fell to the table.
As it’s offered over Armiin sits up a little straighter, and with waning gratitude, bites onto the utensil to scrap the piece into his mouth. It melts on his tongue, and the rich, gooey chocolate is blissful after following the dry feeling left over by the bread.
“Mm--...this is re-really good.”
Armiin sighs out, sure to swallow the mouthful before he spoke. Eyes close briefly, relishing in the taste that he rarely was able to enjoy.
“They said it was the best, but I think they were exaggerating.”
Leandro states bluntly, and already is another forkful being held up to Armiin’s mouth, and without much thought is it taken and enjoyed. The desert goes down relatively easy, and the piece is gone within minutes, dazed by the sugary goodness to realize that he was finishing off all that Leandro had bought. Well, at least it wouldn’t end up going bad. Now, though, the tight feeling in his belly was a little more noticeable, and again is that hand slipping down to gently rub at his side. He sighs out, leaning his head back as that bite of exhaustion returns for a second round.
“--How are you feeling?”
The Darkfallen’s curiosity piques, leaning forward now with chin rested to palms, shimmering hues flickered up and down as he watches the Hunter nearly slip into a food-caused coma. He can’t help the smirk that curls to the corner of his lips, watching as Armiin enjoyed some of his past, favorite foods.
“Full.”
Armiin states simply, closing his eyes for a few moments as the sluggish feeling sinks in. Now, he was really ready for a good nights sleep.
Long, pale ears twitch, focusing on the sound of Leandro’s chair being pulled out that’s only replaced then by a few footsteps, and before he can register, there’s two arms draped over broad shoulders. One of Armiin’s eyes crack open, peering up at Leandro with a lazy smile, and the expression is rewarded with a kiss to the forehead. While one hand keeps itself placed upon a shoulder, the other slips to Armiin’s side; resting gingerly over his clothed waist before fingers trail and kindly rub over the hunter’s full stomach. He finds himself shuddering over the touch, a little off guard--but it was taken with stride, and a relief floods over to those soft fingers offering the gentle comfort.
“Better?”
“B-better.”
#My writing#Toon: Armiin B#Other: Leandro#stares at my hands#im embarrassed i wasnt gonna post this but you know WHAT#WHATEVER AM I RIGHT
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Philinda Fanfic: Behind the Scenes, Chapter 11
RATING: T
SPOILER: This is set in a Universe where Phil quit his Tony Stark babysitting duties after the first gig and returned to active field work. So, basically their backstories stay the same until after the first Iron Man Movie.
SUMMARY: After her former partner Phil Coulson almost got killed in action, the traumatized SHIELD agent Melinda May returns to duty. She and Phil go undercover as contestants of the celebrated TV show “Forever Love” to catch a stalker and to trip a traitor.
NOTES: See Chapter 1. This took forever because a) Life is still nuts and I’m usually too tired after work to do much of anything and b) this chapter is a monster! Thank you all for your support! I had fun writing this (we’re finally getting to the more juicy bits!) and I hope you still enjoy it too! Please let me know what you think. :)
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o0o
Chapter 11: One on One in which Diane finally gets her date.
She hadn’t noticed anything. Nothing.
How the hell could she’ve missed the connection between the Rebecca and Anisa?
And why?
Because of Phil Coulson and acting powers and her stupid heart. This was a job and she was better than this.
She should’ve noticed something!
Melinda wiped away some sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand as she ran.
Sure, Phil usually was better at that relationship stuff and he didn’t pick up on it neither, but he hadn’t been living with Anisa for almost two months!
God, this was bad.
Rebecca may not have been the stalker they had been looking for, but she easily could’ve been!
Melinda switched up the gears on the treadmill and speeded up. She would’ve preferred to go on an actual run to work off some energy, but the work out room of the Forever Love mansion.
Next to her, Audrey worked on a cross-trainer.
Lorelei was on a one on one with Eric right now, which hurt, which was stupid and another reason why she needed to step up her game. She needed to be more focused, more observant.
She was here to protect Maggie and these wonderful women, who deserved so much better than this.
Rebecca wasn’t a threat. She was out of the show to keep everything going, but she wasn’t a threat. Which meant the real threat was still out there so she couldn’t allow herself to mindlessly flirt with Coulson.
Just because she had lost her heart didn’t mean she had to lose her brains too.
“Could I talk to you all for a moment?” Anisa asked from the door way.
Melinda almost stumbled on the treadmill. How the hell could she’ve missed Anisa opening the door?
Audrey gracefully stepped off the cross trainer. “Of course!”
Melinda switched off the treadmill and grabbed a towel.
“I just …” Anisa pulled up her shoulders while she hid her hands behind her back.
“I didn’t know Rebecca would do something like that. If I would’ve thought she’d ever be a threat to Eric I would’ve told them about us, I swear!”
Of course everybody had found out once Garrett had escorted Rebecca off the premise two nights ago. Anisa had been hiding ever since. She looked exhausted.
Audrey crossed her arms.
Melinda just waited.
Anisa sighed. “I never wanted any of this to happen … God, you must hate me.”
“We don’t hate you,” Audrey said.
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Melinda asked. Keeping that sort of information a secret was just stupid.
“We broke up so long ago, at first I didn’t even recognize her, with that camera in her face all the time and …” Anisa shrugged. Were there tears welling up in her eyes? “We didn’t end things badly, I have no idea why she’s doing this.”
A tear rolled down Anisa’s cheek. “I’m so so sorry,” she said.
God, this was wrong! Rebecca and Anisa had done nothing except for not revealing their former relationship.
“You couldn’t know this would happen,” Melinda said quickly.
Audrey nodded and rubbed Anisa’s arm.
“I feel so foolish. I should’ve just said something, I should’ve -” She stopped talking when they heart a group of people coming towards them.
That could only mean one thing in this house.
Anisa quickly wiped away her tears, just in time before Peter, Javier and a film crew appeared in the door way.
“There you are, ladies!” Peter said and spread his arms in a grand gesture as he smiled at them. As always, he looked perfect in grey suit and blue shirt. No tie this time.
That man was ridiculously handsome.
“Did we miss something?” Javier asked. Could you guys go back for -”
That man just pissed Melinda off.
“Nothing happened,” Audrey said quickly. “We just finished our training, right girls?”
Anisa and Melinda nodded sternly. The crew didn’t have to film everything!
“Fantastic, we’ve got a little surprise.” Javier said but he looked at them skeptically. “Could you all maybe freshen up a bit and come to the lounge room in fifteen minutes?” he asked.
An hour later, they were finally ready to start shooting. All of the five women currently not on a date with Eric sat around on one of the big plushy sofas. At least this time they got to wear jeans and t shirts instead of cocktail dresses.
Peter stepped in front of them as the camera behind them probably captured his perfectly lid face right now.
“Ladies,” he said, “you all look fantastic but unfortunately I only bring a letter for one of you.” He made a dramatic pause.
It took Melinda all her self control to keep her from rolling her eyes.
“Diane,” he said. “Tonight I’ve got a special letter for you.”
It felt like her heart stopped! Next to her, Katherine and Audrey gasped when Peter took out a golden envelope from his jacket.
“Oh my god!” Melinda shouldn’t feel as nervously excited about a fake letter from a fake person, but …
She quickly opened the envelope and pulled out a handwritten note from Phil. God, if that note could just be from Phil, she would be happy.
As she read his words, a smile crept on her face.
“What does it say?” Audrey asked.
“Dear Diane, please dance with me into the night. Yours, Eric.” Kind of cheesy. It was ridiculous to get this happy about a date with a fake person. But finally there it was. Diane would get her one on one with Eric.
“That sounds so romantic!” Anisa said.
“There is more.” Peter said.
All the women looked at him. “More?”
Peter smiled. “Eric had a little present delivered to your room, Diane.”
o0o
Phil clenched his hands just to keep them from tapping against the sides of his legs.
He and Hand stood in front of a beautifully renovated hotel from the twenties with stone walls and golden applications around all the wooden doors and window frames.
The sun was still shining as it was early morning, so the crew had forgone to put up candles on the drive way, but the obligatory flower arrangements were still there.
Such a shame to waste flowers like that, but Phil had to admit, everything looked stunning.
Hopefully Melinda would like it.
For some reason he thought it would be a good idea to kick it old school with Melinda so that was why he stood here in a black tux and fancy oxfords in black and white as Hand powdered his shiny forehead.
Melinda'd probably roll her eyes as soon as she would see him. And this.
Because this wasn't really her style. - Which was exactly why he had planned this date for them. A date for Diane and Eric.
If he would ever get the chance to take Melinda somewhere he would choose something low key, maybe a small restaurant or just a walk somewhere and after food off a food truck.
Or he would cook for her at his place. Maybe she would like that.
He swallowed hard.
No, she wouldn't. Because she didn't have feelings for him. Not like that. And he was a fool.
“Breathe,” Hand mumbled, “and keep your hands still. Shaking doesn't look good on camera.”
He glared at her but said nothing.
“Five more minutes,” Maggie yelled.
Five more minutes until Melinda would arrive.
Maggie walked over the drive way and towards them. “You look great, Eric!” She quickly patted his arm, before she moved on. “Someone move that flower pot to …”
Around them, everybody was moving. The light team was busy setting up extra lamps and those weird white reflectors. The sound people checked out the sound system and three camera teams set up their equipment. He could see Natasha Romanoff set up a camera right in front of the beautiful hotel doors.
Because of course the black widow knew how to operate a movie camera.
“It’s good that Nat is here,” he said. “It’s good. Another pair of eyes doesn’t hurt.”
“Hm.”
“Think we’ll catch them soon? Did Nat say anything to you?”
“No new intel, sorry.”
So he had to continue with this charade. That meant more overly romantic dates with Melinda May. Kissing Melinda May.
Fantastic.
“You’ve never been this nervous with any of the other women.”
“I know.”
“Know what you’re doing?”
“Just my job. And so is she. I know that.”
A black limousine drove up towards the hotel.
Melinda was here.
He was so screwed.
o0o
She stepped out of the limousine and his heart skipped a beat.
“You look breathtaking,” he said and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Absolutely beautiful!”
Her hair was pulled up in a loose bun, her eyes looked soft and her lips looked so cherry red, he could only think about tasting her.
“Thank you.” Melinda smiled at him and twirled in her golden ball gown with lacy details around the sweet heart neckline. The full skirt with tiered ruffles swayed as she twirled. “So this is what you’d like to see me in?”
“Which little boy doesn’t dream about dating a Disney princess?” He grinned.
She raised a brow. “Well, enjoy it while it lasts because as pretty as it is, I won’t be able to keep this look up on a daily basis.”
“That’s alright.”
“Too generous,” she said dryly and he felt himself blush.
One moment he thought he was doing well flirting with her and the next he just put his foot in his mouth again. “No, I mean I like your dresses and how they show your legs and …”
“So you’re a leg men, hm?”
Oh good, she was just mocking him!
She smiled at him. “If you treat me well, I might just show you a little bit of my ankle before the night is over.”
“Be still, my heart can’t take this!”
She laughed and he just felt happy.
Ten minutes later they walked into the big ball room, her hand resting on his offered arm.
Melinda stopped as soon as they walked through the swing doors. “Oh …”
“You like it?”
“It’s … ” She swallowed and nodded.
The room was big enough to hold two hundred people but now it was empty except for a single table and two chairs. White roses everywhere in the room. Hundreds of them. He knew microphones and cameras were placed in some of them. And of course there was Nat following them with a camera.
The table was set beautifully, too. White porcelain and polished silverware. Crystal glass.
“Not too much?”
“Definitely too much! But I like it.”
“Very good. Because I won’t be able to keep this up on a daily basis either.” He tilted his head and raised a brow. “May I lead you to our table?”
o0o
After dinner, the sun started to set. As two waiters cleaned their table, three violinists showed up in black dresses and started playing music a romantic tune. Lightly treading people in black carried in at least thirty candle holders in various sizes and distributed them around the room.
“You really went all out, didn't you?” Melinda asked.
“Go big or go home.” He stood up and reached out his hand.” Would you like to dance?”
“I'd love to.” She took his hand and he lead her to the middle of the room. - Since they had all this space, why not use it?
They got into position and started to dance. A slow waltz.
This felt familiar. This felt like their early days. He swirled her around and pulled her back against him.
“This is nice,” he said.
“Definitely not our worst date.”
“Worst date?”
“You made me cook!”
He grinned. “And we all survived.”
“You’re not as funny as you think.”
His grin just widened.
“You’re just lucky you’re so handsome.”
Yeah, that was definitely Diane talking, still it made his heart skip another beat.
He saw Nat following them with a camera as he turned them around again. - This was a show. This wasn't real.
He cleared his throat. “So, tell me about yourself.”
“Very smooth.”
“That’s me, smooth and handsome – your words. And humble, of course.”
She snorted. “Of course.”
“But seriously, what brought you here?”
“On the show?”
“Every week that passes and you stay … I can’t believe my luck.”
“Your eyes.” She lifted her chin and looked up to him.
Nothing would be easier to lean down and to kiss her. With Nat's camera on them – and most likely two other hidden cameras – she would kiss him back.
And that was exactly why he didn't do it. He wanted it too much for the wrong reasons.
“I saw your video and you’ve got very kind eyes,” she said quietly. “And the world can be a cruel place … “ She gave a little shrug. “You seemed like someone who worked to make it better.”
Something in her tone made him perk up. By now they were swaying on a spot. He wasn't sure if it qualified as dancing any longer.
“I loved my job. The … the army. I loved to fight. I loved it.”
She pressed her lips together and he just waited.
“I went to some dark places and …”
He rubbed her back and she looked down and over his shoulder. He made sure to move them so that Nat would catch his face instead of hers. He knew what was next. Diane's backstory wasn't pretty and though it was fake, fake Eric knew better than to expose Diane to any obvious camera.
“We were in this village and there was this girl and she …” Melinda pulled in a breath. “She had a bomb. She would’ve … She could’ve hurt so many people.”
The hairs on his neck stood up. This wasn't part of Diane's story.
“We thought the girl was a victim. We were wrong.” Melinda looked at him again. “I didn’t know how else to stop her.”
The girl? Oh my god. Bahrain. She was talking about Bahrain. “You saved them,” he said. “You saved the village.” Weak words. He wished they were alone. He wished he could talk to her as himself.
She looked at him again. The expression in her eyes broke his heart. “I killed a child,” she whispered.
He knew what ever had happened had been bad, after all the girl had died, but this … this was so much worse. No wonder she had quit after that.
He wished he had known. He wished he could've been more useful afterwards.
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” he said and felt stupid.
“Still think you’re lucky I stayed?”
“Very.”
She pressed her lips together, tears welled up in her eyes. When he pulled her closer, she leaned in and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
He held her tight for the longest time.
o0o
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